Page 30 of The Captain of Betrayal
"There's a fierce undercurrent James," Jack Beverly called from a distance. The fisherman, and many of the gathered crowd, were running in the direction of the pier, but no one was as near as James.
If James had heard Jack's warning, he gave no sign. He scanned the turbulent waves, took a deep breath and dived beneath the water.
"James," Polly cried, making to scramble up onto the wall, but strong arms held her back.
"Stay back, lass," Jack Beverly urged softly, "It's a wicked current that runs through the harbour, and it's even worse when there's a storm. You'd be pulled out to sea in seconds."
"Let the current take me then," Polly sobbed; what use was there in staying on dry land, when the two people she loved the most were lost beneath the crashing waves. Her last words to James taunted her as she scanned the water for a sign of either her sister or her friend. How could she have said that she did not know if she loved him, when her love for him was now ripping apart her heart?
Some of the local fishermen had managed to launch their small boats into the water of the harbour. They bobbed through the waves, bravely battling the currents whilst shouting Jack and Emily's names, as the crowd gathered pier-side huddled together against the lashing rain.
Just when it seemed that all hope was lost, a shout went up from one of the boats.
"We've got them!"
Relief coursed through Polly, a feeling so great that her knees went weak and she stumbled, only avoiding falling completely thanks to Jack's strong arms.
"It's alright, lass," he murmured, "They're safe."
Polly lifted her head, to see if he was right, and then from somewhere a piercing sob tore through the air, so loud that it could be heard over the rumbles of thunder.
It was she who had sobbed, for she had seen that the fishermen were indeed hauling two people into the boat, but neither person was moving and both appeared completely still.
Lifeless.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"I must have died and gone to heaven."
"No, you're very much alive--though, I'm sad to say that your poor Hessians met a watery end."
Polly Jenkins stood at the end of the bed, the warm, blessedly soft bed, that James now lay on. He had no idea where he was, the only thing that he knew for certain was that he was not in his own bed and that Polly Jenkins was standing before him, with a look of tenderness in her eyes that he had never seen before.
"Emily?" James struggled to sit up, worry suddenly coursing through his body at the memory of what had transpired and why it was he that was lying in a room that was not his.
"She is in the room next door, composing an apology note for putting you in such a perilous situation," Polly replied tartly, scowling a little at the mention of her sister.
"How did she fall?" James asked, as Polly bustled forward to arrange the pillows better, so that he could sit up.
"She was leaning over the wall of the pier, looking to see how far the boat had travelled," Polly replied, busy pulling the wool blanket up to his chin. "When a rumble of thunder startled her and she tumbled in."
"Thank goodness we were there," James whispered, unable to picture what might have happened if he and Polly had not been close to hand.
"There was no "we" about it," Polly retorted, seating herself gingerly at the edge of the bed, as though afraid to touch him. "It was you, you risked your life to save Emily and I don't know how to thank you."
The words "marry me" were on the tip of James' tongue, but he held back. He did not want Polly to marry him out of a sense of obligation; he wanted her to want him, as he wanted her.
"In the instant that you entered the water," Polly continued, her elegant hands plucking nervously at the blanket. "I realised something."
"Oh?" James raised an eyebrow, hoping against hope that he knew what she would say next, but scarcely allowing himself to think it. It would be too huge a blow to hear her say something mundane, like she realised that she valued his friendship, or--heavens forbid--that she had realised she had left the front door unlocked.
"I realised," Polly said, her eyes cast down away from his, "That in that instant I could not have said who I was more afraid of losing; you, or Emily. For I love you both equally James, and I don't know why it took me so long to understand that."
There were tears in her eyes, which James leaned over to wipe away tenderly. He allowed his hand to rest against her cheek, wishing to comfort her in whatever small way he could. She gave a watery, self-conscious laugh and made to speak, but he interrupted her before she could.
"Please, don't say you're being silly or emotional," he pleaded, his voice low. "Or try to brush aside your feelings because I could not bear it Polly."
"I won't," she whispered, brushing her cheeks with the back of her hands, in an act that was almost futile for tears still fell from her deep, green eyes. "I just cannot believe how silly I have been, that I did not see what was in front of me, until I thought it lost."
