Chapter Nineteen

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Chapter 19

Extract from Oriana Harmony Brightmore's Journal

Oriana Harmony Brightmore's Inventory of Favourable Qualities One Should Expect in One's Husband

Taken from the section noted as Amendments & Additions:

Twelve: should a lady cast her accounts before and / or upon her husband, he should not show any expression of revulsion.

Two things happened simultaneously that quickly dispelled the contented lull that Oriana had fallen asleep with.

First, she awoke quite suddenly with a wretched feeling of nausea. Sitting up slowly, her world roiled wildly around her and she pressed her hand to her mouth. The light that once filled the small cabin from the window above the bed was now shadowed and dark, her ears pricked with the sound of thunder rolling across the heavens. The floor heaved and she tumbled off the cot.

Lord help her, she was going to lose her lunch all over the floor and there was nothing to mop it up with. Her stomach lurched but with sheer force of will she compelled it to ease while she desperately sought something that would serve as some sort of liquid retaining vestibule. The chamber pot stored neatly under the cot would do. She reached for-

"Ms Penelope Stanley," an achingly familiar yet unwelcomingly furious voice bellowed from the other side of the door, followed by three ferocious fist pounds that shook the frame of her cabin's door. "You are ordered to unlatch this door, or have it broken down! Your captain requires an audience. Immediately!"

From the floor, Oriana knew she had been discovered... and Cole did not sound too pleased about it, either. Anxiety overwhelmed her, combining ominously with her tumultuous stomach. The floor heaved again and she slid away from the cot, away from the chamber pot, and bumped gracelessly against the wall beside the door where her captain was continuing to pound ruthlessly.

The room spun, her limbs felt weak. Good Lord, was this what seasickness felt like? She could hardly move. Bracing her palms against the floor, she resolved every ounce of will to lift her shaking form upright. It was a struggle, her body was shaking, sweating- the floor moving violently against her. She collapsed against the wall, swallowing hard. Not good, she thought feebly, not good, not good.

"God dammit, Penelope," Cole hissed from the other side of the wood, "for the sake of your own impending disgrace, you'd best open this door or so help me-"

Weakly, she reached out a hand, her fingers fumbling and slipping on the latch before she pulled it back and the door burst open. Cole exploded inside, slammed the door shut behind him and latched it closed again. His face, though blurry in her swimming vision, was furious and for the first time Oriana felt slightly afraid of him. He'd infuriated, aroused, annoyed and beleaguered her before... but to be afraid of him was something she did not expect. Resiliently, she straightened against the wall and set her jaw hard, ready to defend herself with reason and rationale at all costs, even in the face of his anger.

"Are you out of your damn mind?!" he roared over a stroke of thunder. "What the devil were you thinking, Oriana, risking not only your reputation but your damn stupid life as well. Do you have any idea of the repercussions of this little bout of obstinance on your part, do you?"

She opened her mouth and had to shut it quickly, slapping her hands to cover her lips. Oh, blast her green stomach, blast it all to hell!

"Of all the idiotic, thoughtless, imbecilic-"

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