The Ruby in the Storm

Chapter 2: Storm Bringer

XXX

Clayton Island, 1843

Ross sat up from his bed and glanced out the window. It was the dead of night, but that was normal. He hardly slept these nights, because closing his eyes meant that he had to relive that night. Having to see her go was hard enough when it happened, without having to see it happen again and again every time he closed his eyes.

Ross threw back his covers and stood to his feet, stretching. His body had not lost its strength, but he still felt emotionally weak. Every day without his beloved Lucy broke him down bit by bit. He thought constantly about that she was with, what she was doing, if she was safe, if she was caught... If she was happy. That's all he wanted. If she was happy and safe without him, then he would find it within him to continue to stay away, even if it was the hardest thing in the world.

He ran a hand over his face and stood at the window, looking down at the crashing waves below. He knew he couldn't stay here forever. Charlotte had done enough for him, but he needed to do something, anything! Sitting around and waiting for an outcome to fall into his lap was torture. He knew he couldn't see Lucy, but he at least wanted to find a way to rectify the situation, in whatever small way.

He knew he couldn't leave without giving Charlotte some sort of explanation. Despite their bad blood, she had taken good care of him, and he was very grateful. He did not want to leave without giving her a proper farewell, but did he dare wait until morning?

I have waited this long, what is a handful of hours?

More time added onto his separation from his love, in his twisted reality, and Ross couldn't handle that. He had stood upon those shores too long in vain. He knew Lucy would never come, but the image of it was what kept him sane these long, cold days.

She has the ring. That is all that matters.

It was an important detail, but it still wouldn't stop adverse events from unfolding. Only he could do that.

And he couldn't wait any longer.

XXX

Belmoran Island

Samuel rolled off Leila, during which time she covered herself with the sheets and shied away from him, trying to make some distance. This was the same cycle every night, or most nights at least. She did her part, she allowed him to think that she was receptive to him when they were together, but afterwards all she wanted was some space.

"Are you not yet with child?" Samuel asked, his voice gruff. That was also something he asked every night.

Leila shook her head, blankly staring up at the ceiling. "No."

"It's been a year, Leila."

"What do you want me to do about it?" She asked, dismissively. "Partake in some heathen voodoo ritual to see if that will do the trick?"

"Don't speak to me that way," Samuel warned her. "I love you, Leila, but I am your husband and you will show me respect."

"Sorry," she whispered, swallowing to keep her tears at bay. She knew she had to hold her tongue with Samuel. After all, it was because of him that her family was secure now. "Honestly, Samuel, I don't know what's wrong. I've gone to the physician, I've taken the tonics, I've prayed, I've tried everything."

Samuel must have sensed her sudden distress, because he rolled over and stroked her face gently. "Your efforts are not lost on me, darling. I know you are just as distraught about this as I am. You just need to try harder is all. Money is not an object; I will pay for whatever you need to get this done."