Surrender the Heart by MaryLu Tyndall Read Free Book Online

cap’n. He’s not a man given t’ jokin’.” She coiled the remaining bandage back into a ball and stuffed it in her satchel. “Truth be told, I don’t know what’s got into ‘im. He’s usually a perfect gentleman. I ain’t never seen him behave so unmannerly towards a lady.”
     
    “I have.” Marianne pushed aside the resurging memories of his cruelty as a child. “Perhaps he wears a mask of civility for the benefit of his friends.”
     
    “Naw. Mr. Hobbs and I have sailed wit’ him for five years. He be a good man, you’ll see. An’ he’ll make a fine husband.” Her cheeks reddened.
     
    Marianne had her doubts about that as well, but she thought better than to voice them. Obviously Noah had fooled this woman into believing he was something he was not.
     
    Agnes patted Marianne’s hand. “Now get some rest. I’ll check on you later.” Then standing, she ambled from the room.
     
    Rest? Marianne closed her eyes, trying to drown out the rustle of the sea against the hull and the sound of the wind thrumming in the sails. How could she rest when all that stood between her and a watery grave were a few planks of wood?
     
    Seafoam rose, stretched her legs, and sauntered to lie beside Marianne. Turning on her side, Marianne caressed the cat’s soft fur. “I thought cats were afraid of water.”
     
    Purring rose to Marianne’s ears as Seafoam nestled against her.
     
    “Well, if you can be brave, little one, then so can I.” Marianne winced at the throbbing in her head even as her eyelids grew heavy.The room began to spin, and she slowly drifted into a chaotic slumber filled with nightmares.
     
    Marianne and her mother and sister were without a boat in the middle of the ocean, thrashing their arms through the foamy waves to keep afloat. A small vessel approached. Marianne’s father and Noah sat within it, rowing toward some unknown destination. Pleading desperately for help, Marianne called out to them as they passed. But neither man looked her way. She continued to scream and splash to get their attention. But both men kept their faces forward and their hands to the oars. Soon, they slipped away and faded into the horizon, leaving Marianne and her family to drown.
     

     
    Noah picked up the lantern and set it beside the chart spread across his desk. Using his divider, protractor, gunner’s scale, and Mr. Grainger’s best weather prediction, Noah had plotted their fastest route to South Hampton. With clear skies and God’s good favor, they’d make port in four weeks. After they reached South Hampton and off-loaded their cargo, Noah had arranged to transport silks and fine china to Nevis in the Caribbean, where he expected the wealthy colonists would pay handsomely for the extravagances lacking in the new world. Then at Nevis, he would fill his hold with coffee and sugar to sell in Baltimore. All in all, he hoped to make a year’s wages with this one voyage.
     
    Perhaps then his father would see him as a more-than-qualified merchantman. Perhaps then, that gleam of approval Noah longed to see would appear in his father’s eyes. Dare he even hope for an added spark of forgiveness? Reaching into his waistcoat pocket, Noah withdrew a handkerchief—his brother’s handkerchief. He unfolded it and laid it across the palm of his hand giving it the reverence of a holy object. To him, it was holy. He traced the deep maroon stains that marred its center and then fingered the lace at the edges. His eyes grew moist. “I’m sorry, Jacob.” He stared at it for a moment then gently folded it into a tiny square and slipped it back inside his waistcoat.
     
    Clearing his throat, he forced back all emotion then laid down thescale and walked to a cabinet built into the bulkhead. Opening the door, he grabbed a bottle of port and poured himself a glass, then wove around his desk and gazed out the stern window. A half moon lingered over the horizon. The ebony sea seemed to be reaching up toward it, trying