Chapter One
July 25, 1718
Another huge wave crashed into the
ship sending Roselyn careening to the other side of the cramped
cabin. The captain had ordered the lamps extinguished the minute
the waves became robust and the rain began to pound against the
windows in earnest. Now in the pitch black night, everything that
hadn’t been bolted or tied down was flying around the room.
Including Roselyn.
The prow of the ship dove into the
trough of another wave. Her trunk slid across the planks of the
floor and slammed into her back, knocking the wind from her lungs.
The lady’s maid who’d accompanied her on this voyage had
disappeared to her own quarters early in the storm, wanting to be
sick in private. Before the storm became truly ferocious, the
captain of the British merchant vessel had come to her cabin
several times to inquire into her welfare. Though she hadn’t seen
him in several hours now, she could just faintly make him out along
with the rest of the crew shouting orders to each other over the
roar of the wind and sea.
Roselyn struggled to her
feet, working desperately to gain the bed before another wave hit.
If she could manage to stay on top of the bunk she might not be so
pummeled by the objects careening around on the floor. She clutched
at her stomach and moaned. If everything
would just hold still for a minute….
She reached the mattress, but was
thrown off by a violent upheaval to starboard and bashed her head
against the far bulkhead. This time the ship didn’t immediately
right itself, and she remained dazed in a heap lying half on the
wall. She reached up and felt her fingers become slick with the
blood oozing from her tender temple and cheek. Roselyn pressed her
hand against the wound and winced.
The cabin door burst open. Roselyn was
confused when the door seemed to open from the floor. From his
strange angle, the captain whipped his head around in the darkness,
searching for her. Roselyn didn’t know what to make of her
topsy-turvy world.
“ Miss Weldon!” the captain
hollered into the room. “Roselyn, are you in here?”
“ Umph,” she grunted. “I’m
over here.” She attempted to right herself but the canting of the
room and the gash on her head made her woozy.
“ You need to get up and
come with me right away.” The captain scrambled across the slanted
room and grabbed her by the arm. Rough fingers dug into her flesh
when he yanked her off the floor.
“ Ow!” she complained as he
dragged her towards the door. “What’s happened? Is the ship on its
side?”
“ Not exactly.”
The two of them made it out the
doorway and into the hallway leading to the deck. She realized with
dawning horror they were slogging through water midway up her
calves.
“ Is the ship sinking?” She
tried to control the terror that was taking root. Up to this point,
she’d done a fairly good job of it. Even while being thrown around
the cabin with the wind howling, she had managed to keep some
semblance of calm.
The captain didn’t answer
her; whether he didn’t hear her or was too concerned with steering
her out onto the deck, she didn’t know. The sailors staggered on
the heaving deck, lowering skiffs and
rowboats, their faces taut with fear and terrified determination.
She was accustomed to organized activity on deck where the
well-worn sailors moved with confidence, but this night they
scrambled about verging on chaos. Their show of fear only served to
panic her more.
She pulled on the captain’s arm until
he turned around. “The ship is sinking isn’t it!” she screamed over
the wind. “Oh dear God, we’re sinking.”
Roselyn was in full blown hysteria
now. The blood coursing down her face and neck, which had caused
such dismay before, was nearly forgotten and replaced by a
premonition of the mighty British ship sinking and her body afloat
and lifeless, tossed endlessly by the relentless waves.
“ I can’t swim, Captain. Oh
dear God, I can’t swim.”
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