Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

T he storm came.

Ester had not prayed for it, nor even seriously hoped for it.

Yet it came.

She stood near the prow of the Sprinter holding her father's arm and marveling at the leaping play of dolphins in the ship's wake. To their left was Wales, while Ireland lay distantly to the right. Percival told her that they were crossing the Bay of Cardigan and before they entered the Celtic Sea off the north coast of Wales, they would pass through one of the most dangerous stretches of water in the world, the Menai Straits . Vicious currents would tear at the ship as she passed through the narrow passage between tall cliffs and rocks that would gut a vessel twice as large as Sprinter. Ester had shuddered but had welcomed the gleam of excitement in her father's eyes at the prospect.

"I hope I have the strength to stand here and watch our passage through the Straits," Percival grumbled.

"Well, perhaps you should rest now to ensure you do," Ester suggested.

Percival harrumphed and let his daughter turn him away from the playful aquatic mammals below them. Looking the length of the ship, Ester saw the dark, tall silhouette of Julian. He stood as far away from Ester as he could so as to not antagonize her father. He cut a lonely figure, a thought that made Ester's heart break. She was no closer to an honest solution than when they had been alone together in his cabin. Since then, there had been precious little opportunity, with her father wanting to be up on deck as much as possible and her mother not caring for such things. Percival followed her gaze and halted, leaning on the walking stick that he so heavily relied on.

" That man. I did hear that the Duke was aboard." He glanced at Ester. "You are not to speak to him or associate with him," he chided, sternly.

"I think you misunderstand him, father," Ester mumbled.

"Perhaps I do, but it is a father's prerogative. A man died in my house and the Duke seems to think he is personally responsible. That is not a man of sound mind or character. Or both."

"But he is a Duke and could bring a great deal of prestige to..."

"And a great deal of scandal. Think of Helen. What chance would she have for her debut if her sister is associated with a man who attracts the attention of gutter writers for scandal sheets."

Julian was not looking at the pair but leaning on the railing and gazing out towards Ireland. Ester knew that he had seen her though. His gaze had always been as a physical caress to her being. Without looking, she felt she could point to Julian wherever he was, and tell if he was looking at her or not. But then he nearly certainly always was looking at her, just as she could not keep from staring at him if she entered a room that he occupied.

"Papa, I wish you would be fair," Ester argued, knowing it was pointless.

"I am being fair to this family. To you and your sister. Do not press me. I am not convinced as to the strength of his character or his quality as a man. There is something... of the night about him," Percival retorted.

Behind the ship, Ester noticed the sky was darkening. The wind was growing stronger and she noticed that not only were the sails at full stretch and straining at their ropes, but the masts were creaking under the force of the wind. Her hair was soon whipping about her face, her skirts billowing behind her like a banner.

"Heavy weather on the way. I may not get the chance to see the Straits after all," Percival observed.

Then Captain Anderson, a man with a thick, black mustache and tanned skin, was descending from the poop deck. All of the ship's passengers barring Lady Janet, Helen and Harper were on deck at that moment.

"Ladies and gentleman. I must ask you all to return to your cabins. A storm is overtaking us and it is a powerful one. We will be running before it in an attempt to gain the shelter of the north Welsh coast but it will be a close-run thing."

Percival looked at Ester and she saw the excitement in his eyes. She rolled hers.

"We will take the captain's advice," she said, looping her arm through his, "and avoid getting under the feet of the crew."

As she guided her father towards the ladder to the companionway, she glanced again towards Julian. He was heading in the same direction but holding back, letting Percival descend the ladder before stepping close to Ester. She closed her eyes as his gloved hand slipped into hers. He stood behind her as she faced the top of the ladder, one finger running down her spine and making her whimper.

"What's that, old girl?" Percival called. "It is only a stairway, don't be getting worried now."

Ester bit her smile at the absurdity of the situation and began descending the ladder. As she walked her father along the companionway to the cabin he shared with her mother, she heard the footsteps of Julian beginning his descent.

"You look quite flushed, dear," Percival noted, glancing at her over his shoulder, "don't worry too much about this storm. It's par for the course in these waters."

It was not.

Ester's misguided wish had been granted.

She had safely returned to her cabin when it overtook the Sprinter and began to toss the ship as though it were matchwood. At first, they had laughed as they were lifted from their seats on their respective beds by the ship dropping away beneath them as it descended the trough of a wave. Then the violence that raged around them began to quell their laughter. Helen dashed to Ester's side after a wave battered the ship and knocked her pugnaciously against the wall. She whimpered and Ester hugged her tightly, pushing herself back along her bed by her heels to wedge herself and her sister against the bulkhead that separated her cabin from Julian's.

Any notion of the passage of time was lost. The sun was dimmed by black storm clouds and the ship bucked and thrashed like a wild colt. Water began seeping into the cabin in several places, oozing between the planks as though it were a living thing seeking entry. Ester flinched from the icy coldness and the all-pervading smell of staleness that came with it. Helen began to cry and Ester bit her lip to keep her own tears at bay.

Outside came the sound of orders being barked by the captain at his officers, and of frightened men, men desperate to beat the storm by the strength of their arms alone. The cabin had no windows and Ester was glad of it. If she could see waves that were the size that her senses told her they must be, by the frantic motions of the ship, she would lose her mind in terror.

She screamed as the door opened suddenly, slamming against the wall. Julian stood there, hair wild about his face and blood seeping from a wound on his right temple. He staggered as the ship pitched and caught himself on the edge of the bed.

"I have been on deck. We are entering the Straits at a dangerous speed because of this blasted storm!" he shouted over the raging tumult. "It will be a short passage and then we should be able to find a sheltered harbor on the coast."

"What happened to you?" Ester asked.

"The ship threw me against the wall and I was caught unprepared. It is nothing. You have the right of it. Wedge yourself into a corner to counter the worst of the motion."

Speechless with terror, Helen looked up from beneath disheveled hair and instinctively reached out to Julian with one arm, keeping the other firmly wrapped around Ester's waist. Ester offered her free arm and Julian clambered into the narrow space, putting his arms around both women and trying to shelter them from the violent movement of the storm with his body. Ester buried her face in his chest, holding tightly to her sister, feeling the wetness of Helen's tears against her bosom.

Then came a crack that sounded as if the heavens had split apart to announce the apocalypse. The ship lurched to one side so violently that Julian was hurled across the cabin. He released Ester and Helen and somehow, Ester managed to cling to the bulkhead, holding Helen tightly. The motion had stopped but the deck was slanting to one side. Julian stood, taking stock.

"I think we have run aground. Or onto rocks. Stay here. I will be back."

"Don't go!" Helen cried.

"Hush, Helen. He will not go far and will return for us. I will be here with you," Ester assured her.

Over the sound of the crying wind and lashing rain, she could now hear what sounded very much like running water. The kind of sound that a large volume of water made as it gushed into previously denied area. Ester swallowed, whispered a fervent prayer for her family and everyone aboard the Sprinter. Helen was the first to see the water spilling through the door of the cabin, which hung ajar. She tried to climb higher up the slanting bed, keeping her feet clear of the powerful stream that was collecting at one end of the cabin but rapidly filling it.

Then Julian was back.

He looked as though he had been overboard. His hair hung about his face in dark tails and his clothes were utterly drenched. He stood, now knee-deep in the rapidly rising water, and reached for Ester's hand.

"We are on rocks a hundred yards from shore! There is land but it must be rowed for in the lifeboat. Come, we have to abandon the ship!"

It took some coaxing for Helen to uncurl herself from the protective embrace of her sister, and eventually, Julian had to pick her up bodily.

"What of my father and mother?" Ester shouted.

"The crew are helping them into the lifeboat as we speak. The hull is breached and the ship is taking on water. They had given up on trying to reach this end of the vessel, the blackguards!"

Ester's blood ran cold at the idea that without Julian's presence, she and Helen might have been left to die by panicked crewmen. She followed him closely along a companionway that was half full of freezing seawater. It sloped at an angle of more than forty-five degrees, making the walk more of a climb.

At the ladder, Harper stood, braced with his arm wrapped around the rungs and reaching out with his other arm. Water sloshed onto him from above. He took Helen from Julian who turned and picked up Ester. As Harper ascended, Julian placed Ester on the ladder and shoved her hard in the rump to push her upwards. She scrambled onto the deck.

The lifeboat was in the water, manned by crewmen and full of the Sprinter's passengers, including her mother and father. Harper was handing Helen to a crewman and then staggering back up the sloping deck towards Ester. The slickness of the deck and its steepening angle defeated though. He slid towards the rails, at the mercy of the waiting sea.

Captain Edwards was the one who saved him, grabbing him about the waist and almost hurling him into the boat. Ester hesitated at the top of the ladder, reaching back for Julian. Captain Edwards shouted something to her but his words were utterly drowned by the raging storm. Julian's feet were slipping from the rungs of the ladder and the constant deluge pouring down the deck was threatening to dislodge him. Ester screamed his name and reached out.

Through the water, he saw her and reached back. For a moment, their hands clasped, but the leather was too slick after its soaking. A barrage of water beat at Julian and he was forced to use all his strength to cling to his precarious position.

The glove was slipping from his hand. Inch by inch.

She held on with everything she had, but it was not enough.

Suddenly, he was gone. The sodden leather had slipped from his hand, left behind in hers. She screamed, rendered silent by the fury of the storm. Julian was lost to sight by a fresh downpour of seawater, and for one horrifying moment, she thought he had been swept away, back into the flooded companionway which had now become an almost vertical incline.

But just as panic began to overwhelm her, she saw it—his bare hand, clinging with sheer determination to the topmost rung of the ladder. His other, gloved hand hung on by fingertips only. Their eyes met. Ester flung herself full length onto the deck so that the upper half of her body was fully into the entrance to the companionway.

She reached out for Julian's hand. His uncovered hand.

His eyes went wide as he saw her reaching and he yanked his hand away from her touch.

Before she could react, water slammed into his chest like a hammer and he was swept off the ladder, down into the bowels of the ship.