The Black Morass (Pirates of the Coast Book 1) by Barbara Devlin Page A

the revelation, Madalene sketched a quick curtsey.  “I look forward to getting to know you, Papa, and what I presume is my future brother or sister.”
    “Thank you, for bringing my daughter to me.”  Papa shook Lieutenant Lowe’s hand.  “Shall we adjourn to the drawing room for a bit of refreshment?”
    After consuming a glass of lemonade heightened with sweet marsala, during which time she shared her woeful tale of the Trident and Captain Hammond’s demise, to her father’s horror.  Madalene recounted her rescue and subsequent travel aboard the Black Morass but omitted her relationship with Jean Marc.
    “Might I be shown to my chamber, Papa?”  Madalene rubbed the back of her neck.  “It has been a terribly lengthy journey, and I am in much need of a nap.”
    “Of course, my child.”  Papa stood and kissed her forehead.  “Miss Hannah will take you to your accommodation, and we will talk more over dinner.”
    “I suppose she wants the best room in the house.”  Scowling, Prudence scrutinized Madalene from top to toe.
    “And so she shall have it.”  To the housekeeper, Papa said, “Install Lady Madalene in the suite at the south end, which overlooks the ocean, and see to her every comfort.”  Then at his wife, he wagged a finger.  “Prudence, do not ever take that tone with my daughter.  Madalene is my firstborn, and her position demands respect.  You will act as befits your station, or you will suffer the consequences of your ill manners.  Do I make myself clear?”
    To wit the not so nice stepmother stomped a foot in protest.
    As Madalene climbed the stairs, Miss Hannah smiled.  “Your grandfather, Mr. Crawford, was a very fine man, if I may say so, Lady Madalene.”
    “Thank you, Miss Hannah.”  She admired the wood grain of the polished balustrade.  “I miss him still.  And Aunt Eileen spoke highly of The Fair Winds.  I am sorry I never ventured here, with her.”
    On the second floor, the landing spread wide, revealing a wide hallway.  At the third door on the left, Miss Hannah propped ajar the oak panel, strolled to the far wall, drew back the drapes, and flung open the sash.  A burst of sea air enveloped Madalene, harkening cherished memories aboard the Morass .
    “Shall I unpack your bags, Lady Madalene?”  The housekeeper stood with hands clasped before her.
    “No, thank you.”  The soul-shattering sorrow that plagued her since Jean Marc broke her heart loomed on the horizon, and she preferred privacy, in that moment.  “I would like to rest.  Would you call me in time for dinner?”
    “Yes, Lady Madalene.”  At the entrance, the housekeeper paused.  “The staff prayed for your safe arrival, and I will tell them of your presence.  I will leave the door open to properly cool the room, and you may close it when you lie down.”
    “Again, my thanks, Miss Hannah.”  Madalene sat on the bed and doffed her slippers.  “I look forward to improving our acquaintance.”
    Gazing out the window, Madalene noted a ship in the distance, and she ran to the ledge.  Was it the Black Morass ?  Was Jean Marc out there, somewhere, thinking of her?  Did he pine for her as she yearned for him?
    Given his rejection, she doubted he spared her a second thought, and that hurt.  A gentle breeze whispered and thrummed, sifting through her hair and kissing the tears that streamed her cheeks.  “How could you?”
    “How could I—what?” Prudence inquired.
    Dragging her sleeve across her face, Madalene whirled about.  “Oh, it is you.”
    “Why did you come here?”  Madalene’s stepmother paced as a caged animal.  “What do you want from us?  The Fair Winds is ours, and I will not let you take it from us, as it is my child’s legacy.”
    “I beg your pardon?”  Anger sparked, but Madalene checked her temper.  “You labor under the misapprehension that this land is part of my father’s entailment, Lady Prudence.  On the contrary, The Fair Winds is one of