Stolen Heart

Chapter One

I sit by the window and release a sad sigh...

thinking how time has passed me by.

I recall my youth when life was so carefree...

how days seemed so endless and passed so slowly.

London, 1861

Urry up child, do ye want ta be late fer ye own weddin’?

Pah! What my Uncle Karl sees in that English Prig, I’ll never know. He thinks I don’t know that the man is marrying me for my inheritance. Ha! He’s more of a fool than I give him credit for!

Ah, Ybeth Lancaster, ye’re bein’ too harsh on ye uncle, ‘is lor’ship. ‘Ee raised ye after yer parents were killed. Noaw, be a lamb and put on yer gown. Yer uncle commissioned da best seamstress in London, though ’e canno afford a copper penny.

Ybeth sat with a pout and hugged her knees to her. The old fart should have saved his coin, or spent it on repairs around here, she blurted.

Tsk, child, ‘e done ‘is best, ye’re bein’ ungrateful.

Aw, Nanny Edna, I heard him talking to that English Prig. Now that I turned eighteen and can marry, my husband can get his greedy hands on my money. They made a deal; Lord Prig will give my uncle some of my fortune for my hand in marriage. Damn! All I have to do was to wait until I’m twenty-one, three more years, and I can have my trust fund. Uncle Karl can wait until then and I will gladly give him a share, she spat petulantly.

Edna sighed. Whot can Oi say? Noaw, come on, ’tisn’t as bad as whot ye’re sayin’."

Sure, ‘tis easy for you to say. And do not roll your eyes at me! Ybeth remarked, coolly disapproving. Mumbling, she dressed in her cream colored gown. It wasn’t fancy, no lace trimmings, not even made of silk, but she didn’t care. She looked in the mirror at her gloomy reflection and stuck her tongue out at herself and crossed her eyes. Behind her back she heard her nanny click her tongue. This time the woman rolled her eyes up at the ceiling.

It was good thing, she thought, that she had an inheritance, otherwise no one would marry her. Her eyes were too big, and black as coal. Her mouth was too full and her nose, well, too turned-up, and those damn freckles. Her hair was too orange and, ugh, she pushed back that damn curl that refused to stay off her face, too curly. Bah! Thank goodness she had a great figure, though she was too tall to suit her. No need for a confining corset and all the arguing by her nanny fell on deaf ears. She would never wear one, not even today.

Ye look beautiful, mistress, said Edna, her smile widened in approval.

She was not mollified and tempted to expel a frustrated breath but thought better of it and Ybeth thanked her disinterestedly, but the nanny was just being kind. She loved the servant; the woman was like a mother to her. It had been eight years since she was left an orphan. Her parents were attacked and killed by highway men when they were coming home from the opera. And for what? Their money and jewels! It seemed everything in her life had to do with money. Her parent’s death and her inheritance! She heard the carriage wheels roll over the cobblestones and the butterflies returned to her belly. Looking out her bedroom window she bit her lip.

Are ye ready, child?

Nay, she wanted to shout. Instead she said, Go tell his lordship that I’ll be down in a moment. Edna nodded and left her alone. The hell with this! she ranted aloud. If mother and father were alive, this wouldn’t be happening! She bit her thumb nail. Think! she ordered herself. A rap on the door brought her out of her frustrating thoughts. Aye! she answered.

’Tis Doris, mistress, yer uncle, says ta come down.

She swallowed hard and squared her shoulders and then opened the door. Ybeth grabbed the young servant by the arm so quickly, the girl almost tripped over her own feet. Startled, Doris stared, wide-eyed. Before the servant opened her mouth to speak, Ybeth asked, Would you like to be a lady?

Shocked, the girl stared blankly with her mouth open.

Of course you do, Ybeth answered her own silly question. Who would not? I have seen how you gaze dreamily at Lord Pri...um, Lord Thomas Whitehead. The servant blushed. She was right. Hurry, take off your uniform and put on my gown, you will take my place.

Doris stood motionless in the middle of the room. Huh? Whot? Whot are ye sayin? she inquired skeptically.

Come on, I also saw the way he has looked at you. You two were made for each other. Don’t let this chance slip away. Hurry, you can marry him! Ybeth had no doubts that Thomas would be chasing Doris around the estate after they were wed.

But—-

No buts, Doris, she said firmly. Ybeth was already out of the gown and turning the servant around she untied the apron strings.

’Is lor’ship is goin’ to kill ye, an’ me too! Doris cried.

Not if he likes his neck, he will not. The confused expression on the servant’s face almost made her laugh. Flabbergasted, Doris stood mute.

Oh this was too good. Why hadn’t she thought of his before?

Ybeth was now thankful that she had, and grateful that they were the same size and both redheads with dark brown eyes. Although she was about three inches taller, she gave the girl her high-heel, button-up shoes. Quickly she helped Doris into the gown, and buttoned up the back. The veil was placed on her heard, and then covered her face. Remember, keep your face covered, she ordered. The girl was shaking like a gale wind and she figured that even if this did not work, she would soon be long gone from here. Then a voice of doom commanded, Ybeth, I am tired of waiting!

Her uncle’s voice carried a unique force from below.

Coming uncle, I’ll meet you at the coach, she yelled back and nudged Doris towards the door. Go, and thank you. When I reach twenty-one and no matter what happens today, I’ll repay you. Now go! She gave Doris another shove out the door. As soon as the servant left she quickly put on the uniform and pushed her hair up under the cap. Peeping out the door, and seeing no one was about, she tip-toed down the back stairs and out the servant’s entrance. Once outside, she had no idea where to go.

Now what? she shrugged at her own question then, and had no answer until she remembered her friend, Liana. Her chum will help her, she thought. Liana lived past the docks, a half hour walk. As she strolled, she would have loved to see the expression on her uncle and Lord Prig’s face. Whatever Doris saw in that man, she’d never know, but love is sure blind.

It was two in the afternoon, and the streets were busy with shoppers, people strolling by and children playing. One day she wanted children of her own, but with a man she loved, not one she was forced to marry. Her parent’s married for love and she wanted what they had shared. Oh, how she missed them and her eyes teared. Wiping them dry with the back of her hand, she passed the sweet shop; the smells of fresh baked goodies made her stomach rumble reminding her that she had not eaten all day. What was she thinking of running away without a few shillings? Apparently, she wasn’t thinking, but she just wanted to escape. Thankfully, her friend came from a wealthy family and she would have to relay on Liana’s generosity.

Hurrying along, she caught herself glancing uneasily over her shoulders hoping Doris had not yet been discovered under the bridal veil. In her rush, she bumped into a middle-aged man and mumbled her apologies. As she bent over to help him retrieve his briefcase, he grumbled a few words himself and they were not words of gratitude.

The smell of dead fish was her first clue that she was nearing the docks. Seagulls squawked above and the air was damp and cold; typical London days, dreary and depressing, like her mood. She kept her head low and quickly walked past the tars loading the ships in the port. She received a few wolf whistles and some crude remarks making her apprehensive, but there was safety in numbers, she thought as she hurried along. As she neared the end of the docks, two drunken sailors stumbled out of a bar. An oddly primitive warning sounded in her brain and her panic increased by the minute but it was too late to avoid them. Blimey, the sun hadn’t even reached the middle of the sky and they were foxed already.

Well, l-lookie ‘ere m-mate, if it ‘tisn’t w-wench ‘ust fer us, one slurred.

The other snickered and Ybeth tried to side-step the two foxed men but one grabbed her by the arm. She cried out for help but a blast of a ship’s horn drowned her out. A wave of panic swept through her; it seemed that no one was about and she feared for her life. One bastard holding a bottle of beer licked his dry mouth, and hissed, C’mon, darlin’, yer ‘ust a servin’ wench, hoaw’s ‘bout servin’ us.

He fondled her breasts and she shrieked; then shock yielded quickly to fury. Without thinking of the consequences, she lifted her knee and caught the drunk where it did some damage. He howled and dropped the bottle. The other fool gaped for a moment and then began to laugh. She picked up the bottle and conked the laughing fool on the noggin and ran up a plank, into a vessel. No one was about so she did the first thing that came to her mind, she hid in a lifeboat. She would sneak away when the coast was clear.

Her stomach was still clenched tight as Ybeth shivered from cold and fear and then she went to sleep.

Chapter Two

I think how my life has taken a certain path...

how in my heart the memories will last.

I never gave up no matter what my quest...

and I know I gave life my very best.

Captain Quinn we’re ready ta cast off.

Good, Scotty. Oi miss da salt in me nostrils an’ da wind in me hair.

His first mate had a good laugh since he was as bald as a cantaloupe. Even at the ripe old age of fifty plus, when most men are crotchety old farts, Scotty still had a sense of humor.

Quinn went topside and lit his briar pipe and watched from the poop deck as the crew cast off. England and America were at war, and he was on neither side but his own. He considered himself a Robin Hood of the seas because he’d bring home his loot to Scotland to help the poor in his country.

Quinn, like Scotty, also loved the smell of the sea air filling his lungs. The sun was setting, casting a beautiful display of pink and orange sky. Seagulls squawked above as if to wish him bon voyage. He took a puff and blew out the smoke watching it carried away by the wind, blending with the breeze into nothing but just a touch of the sweet tobacco aroma left.

Aye, he loved the sea, it was in his blood ever since his father took him sailing when his was six. When his old man died, he got a job on this very same vessel as a cabin boy. He and his former captain became very close and at the age of sixteen, he became third mate. When the old salt died, he had worked his way up and because Quinn was well liked by the crew, he took over the ship as captain, renaming the vessel, Sea Mistress. He never married and he had no regrets. His wife was the sea and that was fine with him.

That was over forty years ago and the only original crew member left was Scotty. The man should have retired long ago, he was hunched, and his bones creaked when he walked, but his first mate refused to settle down on land. Scotty didn’t do any manual work, just barked orders to the men that were given to him. Miles from the shorelines he strolled the decks and a sound snapped him out of his musings. At first he wasn’t sure if he heard something, but it sounded again and it was a slight cough. Looking around, he was alone his crew was busy doing their job. Again, he heard the cough and it came from the lifeboat alongside of him. He wondered if one of his men had been napping, sleeping off the booze he consumed while in port. Throwing back the canvas, Quinn was shocked to see a young female huddle in the bottom of the boat.

Whot da ‘ell are ye doin’ in there, Lassie? He didn’t mean to sound so angry, but he was more surprised that irked.

Oh! the stowaway gasped. Sorry, err...I just came in here to hide from two foxed sailors that accosted me. I only meant to stay until it was safe, but I must have fallen asleep. She rubbed her eyes. Sorry, I’ll leave, she spoke in a weak and tremulous whisper.

Quinn chuckled. Ye’re a wee bit late, Lassie. Unless, yer care ta swim. We’re miles fro’ da harbor an’ Oi’m afraid—-

What? The girl jumped up but lost her balance and grabbed the side of the boat. Oh, nay, you have to turn back! she ordered as if she had the right.

Oi’m afraid Oi cannae oblige ye, little lady. Come, he offered a hand and she stared at it for a moment than took it. Oi got ta get ye ta me cabin before any of me crew sees ya. ‘Tis bad luck ta have a female aboard ship. Of course, he quickly added, Oi’m nae superstitious as me men, mind ye, but, ‘urry Lassie!

He was in luck they made it to his cabin undetected. The girl continued to beg him to return to the shore but he continued to refuse. Once inside he said, Here, ye’re shiverin’. He placed a blanket around her small shoulders. Sit, Oi’ll pour ye a shot of whiskey. ‘Twill warm da cockles of yer heart.

She gave him a wide-eyed stare and he had never seen such big dark eyes before. She was a rare red-headed beauty with lips so plump he wished for the first time that he was younger.

Quinn, ye fool, she’s young enough ta be yer granddaughter, said his stern side. He definitely had to hide her sex.

Ybeth was chilled to the bone and was grateful for the blanket. She looked around, still unable to believe all that had happened to her in just a few hours. She felt as if she had jumped from the frying pan into the fire. And a warm hearth right now would be welcoming.

She was a female surrounded by an all-male crew who considered her bad luck! What will happen to her now? She wondered, but of course she was careful not to wonder that out loud. And then she pondered on where the ship was heading, but that was a moot point. It did not matter, what mattered was her life. Thankfully, the captain seemed to be a reasonable man, who appeared to be protecting her. Was he saving her for himself? Dear Lord, he was old enough to be her grandfather. Still, he was a man. A shot glass was placed under her nose drawing her out of her scary thoughts.

Drink, Lassie, he urged her. Oi am Captain Quinn, an’ dinna look so frightened. Oi have nae eaten a wee girl in quite a long time. He chuckled and he had a nice smile and generous with it. She knew he was trying to make her relax. At least she hoped he was kidding. Ybeth nodded and bravely gulped it down. It burned all the way down to her belly. She coughed and it brought tears to her eyes; it did nothing to warm her heart but it sure scorched her lungs.

’Twill warm yer gut, Lassie, he patted her back, but it didn’t help.

I’m all right, she answered quickly over her beating heart.

Verrah weel, He sat on the edge of his desk and asked in a gentle tone, Whot’s yer name, child, an’ whot were ye doin’ down by da docks by yerself?

She wasn’t sure if she should tell him the truth, fearing that when they returned to England he’d bring her home. But then, it would be too late, so she decided to be honest, he was very nice. She sighed, My name is Ybeth Yale Lancaster.

The captain raised a brow again, ’Tis a strange name. There was a slight tinge of wonder in his tone, but