She broke throughthe last row of buildings, her eyes widening in wonder. In front of her was the vast ocean. It was larger, bluer, and far more magnificent than any words had depicted.
It was worth the price of being bound to a man she had never met. For if she married close to home, she would have gone her entire life without seeing the sea.
Ailsa was content with the union her father had made for her. She would get to travel somewhere new. She spotted the ship,Fortunes Gift. Moored in line with numerous others, there was a gangway connecting it to the dock.
She made her way toward it, knowing that she would never return to what lay behind her. Childhood was over. In front of her lay a myriad of possibilities if she was bold enough to face them.
Ailsa did not look back.
Chapter Two
“Head for theharbor!”
Ailsa heard the captain bellow at his crew.
“Are we there already?” she asked excitedly.
She opened the door of the tiny cabin and ventured onto deck. The crew was hurrying along the edges of the ship, their pace far brisker than normal.
“Clear the deck, mistress!” the captain ordered her. He pointed off to the right. “We’ve a storm to escape.”
A storm? But it was midsummer.
Another crew member came barreling down the deck. Ailsa flattened herself against the wall of the cabin to avoid being run into. She looked to the right and sure enough, there were dark, swollen clouds.
“Sweet Jesus,” Mol exclaimed from the door of their cabin. “Fate has turned unkind. I fear this marriage is cursed.”
The sentiment was ludicrous.
It was ridiculous to be frightened by omens found in tumultuous weather.
But the clouds were very, very dark. Ailsa couldn’t help but think again of the fact that it was midsummer. Not at all the time for fierce storms.
Her logical thinking offered her no reprieve from the onslaught of nature’s fury. A gust of wind slapped into the ship, hitting her in the face while the sails cracked ominously.
The crew was fighting with the canvas, trimming the sails while the captain quickly maneuvered the helm, steering the ship toward land. But the storm was gaining on them.
A chill went down her back when lightning flickered in the black mass of clouds. She shook her head, trying to deny the strength of the storm but the ship rolled violently, sending her stumbling into the rail. As much as it had hurt, she was grateful to not be tumbling into the ocean.
“Here now, let me help you.” Mol was suddenly there.
Ailsa was bent over the rail, her head hanging over the water. Relief flooded her when she felt Mol’s hands on her waist. But instead of pulling her back onto the ship, Mol lifted Ailsa off her feet and sent her right over the rail.
She screamed in fear and astonishment, but the wind’s howling drowned out the noise. She was sorry she’d given into the urge to scream because one moment she was falling and the next her senses were overwhelmed as she choked on salt water. She sank down, down into the ocean’s watery depths, her skirts becoming horribly heavy.
The need to live exploded inside of her, giving her the strength to fight her way back to the surface. The ship was still there, its sails strangely flat and empty.
Mol and the captain looked down at her, filling Ailsa with hope. She lifted her arms, eager for them to throw one of the many ropes along the rail to her. Soon, it would all be but a misadventure.
She’d be far more respectful of the dangers of the ocean now, that was for certain.
Instead, Ailsa watched as the captain stretched out his hand toward Mol. She placed a large leather purse in his open palm. The captain hefted it, judging its weight, before he turned his back on Ailsa, leaving her to the open ocean.
Behind her the thunder rumbled. Like a demonic trumpet, heralding her betrayal at the hands of greed.
They were leaving her to die. Not that it was hard to understand why. She was her father’s eldest child, born to his first wife. Her stepmother had three daughters. All of whom would enjoy the fine match Ailsa had been bound for. Mol clearly knew how to take advantage of the trust Ailsa’s father had placed in her.
Their motives didn’t matter. Ailsa ordered herself to focus on reaching the shore. If she lived, she could ponder why Mol had paid the captain to let her die.
