Page 23 of Any Duke in a Storm

“No, I’ll be fine without it,” he said.

With a grateful nod, she untied the rope keeping her secured to the railing and reached for another that would allow her to make it belowdecks without being washed overboard by a wild wave. Lord knew that had happened before. She’d lost crew that way, good men and women swept out to sea. Over her shoulder, she wiped the water out of her eyes as she watched Saint take the rope she’d untied and knot it around his waist.

She could see him bellowing orders to the crewmen around him, making sure that everything was locked down tight, but his words were lost to the winds. She had to trust that theSyrenwas in seemingly capable hands for the moment. Ducking down the stairs, she untied the rope and hung it on a peg. She made her way to the engine room and cranked open the door.

“Estelle,” she shouted as the muffled sounds of the storm reverberated in the narrow corridor. “Report on fuel.”

Her quartermaster’s soot-stained face popped up at the bottom of the staircase while Lisbeth braced herself against one wall when the ship listed left. Her stomach swooped. “We have enough for a few more hours,” Estelle yelled back. “How bad is it up there? Feels like we’re in a cyclone down here.”

“It’s dreadful and going to get worse. Saint’s at the wheel for a bit.”

“Good,” Estelle said. “Shout if you need me.”

“Where is Narina?” she asked.

Estelle wiped sweat out of her eyes. “Your cabin with Smalls.”

That was a relief. Smalls would ensure the girl’s safety, before his own if he had to. She couldn’t let herself fixate on the extra soul onboard, though nervous energy swirled through her at the defeatist thought that this might be the storm that triumphed over theSyren.

“Not on my bloody watch,” Lisbeth muttered as she made her way to the galley. She’d attempt to fill her belly with the hope that the sustenance would stay down, andwarm up before going back where she belonged. She loathed leaving the sailing master in her place, but this was a much-needed reprieve.

“Shirley, you in here?” she asked, water dripping off her in sheets.

“Aye, Cap’n,” a voice yelled back.

“Where are you? I need some food. And a drink.”

The cook had secured most of the sharp instruments and cooking pans, though some broken dishes and random foods littered the floor. A head of cabbage rolled past Lisbeth’s feet, followed by an orange and some beets. The cook emerged from where she’d wedged herself in between two barrels, her weathered face green. Water sloshed around the floorboards.

With a groan as the ship hurtled down another wave and barreled up the other side, Shirley offered her a thick strip of salted meat and a flask. Chewing the jerky, Lisbeth tipped back some of the liquor. Bitter rum burned a warm path down her throat to her stomach. Forcing herself to finish the meat to get some nourishment into her body, she drank another mouthful of rum and wiped her face with the back of her hand. The spirits warmed her extremities, but too much would cloud her senses. She snagged the orange floating by her feet and nodded her thanks to the cook.

“See you on the other side, Shirley,” she told the cook with a forced, cheery grin. “We’ll get through this. TheSyrencan take it.”

“But I don’t know if I can,” Shirley moaned, rushing for a pot near the barrels.

She wasn’t alone. Lisbeth wasn’t far off from casting up her accounts herself. She crawled her way out of the galley to her quarters, poking her head around the doorframe to where Smalls stood guard, a concerned gaze fastened to the porthole that was obscured by sheets of water. Narina’s small body was huddled behind the drapes on her bed.

“You both all right?” Lisbeth asked over the pounding of the rain and the crashing of waves on all sides of the ship.

“Bess!” Narina shrieked. “Blow me down, you’re bloody alive!”

“As well as can be, Cap’n,” Smalls replied, his eyes tracking her from head to toe, relief in his gaze at seeing her in one piece. “Some squall.”

“A moody bitch of a squall.” She shot the girl a tired grin, reassured to see that Narina didn’t seem too much the worse for wear. If anything, her young face was alight with excitement. “Stay with Smalls,” Lisbeth told her. “I need to get back up top. Saint’s at the helm and we need all the help we can get.”

“We can help,” Narina said. “I’ve been practicing being a pirate.”

“You can help by staying put. I mean it, Nari.” The girl pouted but nodded.

A sudden sharp lurch had the ship nearly listing sideways, and Lisbeth lost her balance, crashing hard into the doorframe as she struggled to stay upright. Narina went tumbling off the bed, but luckily, Smalls caught her in his strong grip before she could get hurt. Through thewindow, the barest sliver of moonlight that wasn’t from lightning broke through the clouds.

“Keep her safe,” she ordered Smalls. “This isn’t over.”

He nodded. “Aye, Cap’n.”

“Bess, wait,” Narina said, but Lisbeth had already shut the door and turned back toward the deck.

Wind and rain pelted her face, the howling storm much worse than when she’d left it barely thirty minutes before. Securing the rope around her waist, she bellowed her gratitude to the drenched boatswains who manned the lines tied to the masts, making sure that none of the beams swung loose. She glanced up, only able to see the tall mast when flashes of lightning drew jagged streaks across the angry sky.

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