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Movement had finally ceased. The world had suddenly come to a shuddering halt. From being tossed endlessly into bulkheads, unable to keep your feet steady under you for more than a step or two, the stillness that now surrounded us, after what seemed like hours, felt like a long-forgotten memory. The Artemis had run aground.
Baxley shook his head, trying to clear the fuzziness. He had been briefly knocked out when the ship had come to its sudden grinding stop. Luckily, he seemed to have suffered no other injury. All around him, the crew and passengers were slowly regaining their own senses or taking stock of the myriad small injuries that they had suffered during the battering taken during the hurricane.
Hogan and Manzetti could be seen on the far side of the mess...they seemed to be alright. Dumez, on the other hand, appeared to have a broken leg. Girard was sporting a rather large black eye, but was seemingly otherwise fine, so Baxley ordered him and Manzetti to search the ship and have the rest of the crew gather here in the mess, so that an assessment of their situation could be made. Hogan was ordered above decks to report back on just where they were and what state the ship was in.
Mr Fraser's companions were slowly making their way into the mess. Young Ian Murray and Fergus Fraser helped the others out of the small room in which they had been sheltering. Apart from some bruising, and other small injuries they seemed to have fared well. Lesley seemed to have injured his left arm in some manner; Hayes seemed to have suffered from the seasickness which had laid Jamie Fraser low during the first few weeks of their voyage. Not that anyone could blame him, Baxley had never seen such seas as they had faced in the last few hours. It was a miracle that the Artemis had survived to run aground.
When all were seated on the quickly righted benches around the mess table, Ian looked around searchingly.
Just then Girard and Manzetti returned to the mess leading the remaining crew and helping their injured shipmates. Luckily, all the crew seemed to be accounted for.
Baxley, noticing the confusion stealing over young Murray's face, asked, "What's the matter, Mr Murray?"
"I thought Auntie Claire would be here helping the wounded," Murray replied. "Last we saw her, she was heading up to..."
Ian looked over at Fergus and Marsali, Hayes and Lesley. They were all aware that Claire's stated need to continue to undertake her duties as ship's surgeon, had only been a small part of the reason she had left them below, to face the storm on deck. Her main reason for going above was to be with her husband. The group were all aware of the twenty years that the couple had lost after being separated at Culloden. There was no way that Claire was not going to be at her husband's side through the storm.
Suddenly they all seemed to realise the same thing...Jamie Fraser and his wife were not there.
"Uncle Jamie! Auntie Claire!" Ian's voice shook. "Where are they?"
Baxley turned and stared at the small family group. He had not noticed when Claire Fraser had come on deck, until he heard her husband calling out to her, telling her to get back below. Seconds later, they had been hit by a huge wave, and he had seen her helping to get one of the hands, Dumez, below decks. With the mast down, and control of the ship quickly slipping away, as they were continually battered by the incredibly heavy seas, they had finally had to bow to the inevitable and tie off the wheel and pray that the crew would be able to ride out the storm below decks.
The last he had seen of James Fraser was when Fraser had pushed him through the louvered door, ordering him to take cover, while Fraser had turned to get his wife, who was floundering on the main deck as she tried to make headway towards her husband.
Moments later the largest wave had hit. It was a miracle that the ship had remained afloat.
Baxley called to Girard and Manzetti. "Did you search the entire ship below deck?"
Manzetti replied, "Aye, Baxley. Everywhere we could get to!"
"And you saw no sign of Mr Fraser or his wife!"
"No," Manzetti quietly answered.
Just then Hogan returned below deck to report that they seemed to be firmly aground on mud flats, and from the state of the ship, there seemed little likelihood of being able to make repairs soon.
With little hope of an affirmative response, Baxley asked, "Any sign of Mr Fraser and his wife?"
"No," Hogan responded, "I wasn't expectin' there to be...I thought they were below."
"We search again. The whole ship, above and below decks. They must be..." Fergus' voice slowly trailed into nothingness. "We search," he repeated.
Baxley stood. "Right! Mrs Fraser, if you will do what you can for the injured. Hayes and Lesley will help you. Mr Murray, Mr Fraser, if you would head aft and check out the captain's cabin. Hogan and Manzetti, you're with me, we'll check on deck. The rest of you, split up and check the rest of the ship."
Baxley stood at the gunwale. In his hands he held a black coat...James Fraser's coat. He had known when he agreed to have the ship searched again that the likelihood of finding the couple was almost nil. There were few places on deck that one person could have escaped notice, let alone two. He had found Fraser's coat behind a barrel, where it had obviously been washed by the waves. But all indications were that Fraser had discarded the jacket himself...there was no sign of ripping, tearing or violent removal.
But the coat was the only thing they had found...of Jamie and Claire Fraser there was no sign.
The only version of events that made sense to Baxley was that Jamie Fraser had discarded his own coat. Why? The man was already soaked to the skin. So was his wife. Baxley could think of only one reason... the man had dived overboard, and the only reason he could envisage for that was that when the wave hit Claire Fraser had been washed overboard. It would appear that Mr Fraser had not met the same fate, but had shed his coat before diving overboard in an attempt to save her.
A highly romantic story, to be sure...but one he could believe.
He had been observing the Fraser's ever since they left Ayr in Scotland. Indeed, they had intrigued him. Landlubbers, to be sure, he had thought. Although there had been some question of Mr Fraser's ability to stave off seasickness, and the desperation in their need to reach Jamaica as soon as possible, they had seemed totally in tune with each other. Indeed, when the Frenchie appeared with the girl, Fraser's step-daughter, in tow, and cabin assignments were quickly re-arranged, he had overheard Mrs Fraser quietly reprimanding her husband over the fact that whilst he might be protecting his step-daughters virtue, he was also apparently protecting hers as well. Fraser, who had up to that point managed well, commented that he now felt sick, which Baxley had attributed to a realisation of what these arrangements would mean for Fraser's own sex life over the coming months. For indeed, if a couple were not sharing a cabin, there was very little scope for finding a private place and enough time to enjoy some connubial bliss.
Still, as the weeks had passed, he had noticed the loving care Claire Fraser had shown her husband. She had tried various methods to cure his seasickness, but it was finally revealed that it was the China man who had found a cure. Still, once he was back on his feet, it was clearly evident to any who chose to look just how close the couple were. The tender smiles that were just for each other, the soft lingering brush of their hands whenever they were close.
He had heard the story, in bits and pieces, from Fraser's men...his adopted son, the Frenchman, Fergus, and the two older men, who had apparently been in prison with Fraser following the Jacobite Uprising of '45. Fraser had been a well-known Jacobite soldier, Red Jamie, a close advisor of Prince Charles himself. His wife had been known as the Stuart Witch. Due to some unknown misunderstanding on the day of the Battle of Culloden, both had thought the other dead. Fraser had been badly wounded and almost executed, but had survived believing his wife dead. Mrs Fraser, believing her husband killed in battle, and not wishing to bring trouble to her husband's family, due to her notoriety, had managed to find passage to the Americas, where she had lived for the next twenty years. Fraser had spent most of those years firstly in hiding from the English, then in prison, and as a paroled-prisoner...never able to move on with his life, until two years ago when he had married the young girl's mother. It had not been a happy second marriage and Fraser had left the home and been living and working in Edinburgh as a printer when unexpectedly his first wife had returned. She had come back to Scotland to visit her husband's grave, only to find out that he was still alive.
Fergus had told them of how he had first met the Frasers, in the years before the Jacobite Uprising, in Paris. He had expounded on how much they had been in love and what a unique relationship they had. It would seem that not even twenty years could alter the love they had for each other.
Baxley was himself married...to Alice, a fine young woman who was the daughter of the chandler back in his home port. They rarely saw each other, maybe a couple of weeks, once or twice a year. She was a nice girl, pretty, and she had a good heart...and a sailor needed someone to come home to. He cared for her...but he was fairly certain that he had never loved her or anyone, the way Jamie and Claire Fraser loved each other.
Whilst the ship had been becalmed on the voyage, he had been going up on deck one evening for some air, when he had noticed the Frasers standing together wrapped in each others' arms. It had made him pause, and turn back below. They had seemed so entirely happy...and yet there had been a shadow of sadness there as well. But for all that there was some sadness there, he had known that together they could handle anything.
It had made him wonder whether his own marriage could handle the extremes of emotion...he had never seen Alice really troubled, unhappy, or outrageously happy either...yes, she seemed sad when he would leave on another voyage...and she appeared happy when he would come home...but there was no feeling of her being bereft if he didn't stay or return.
And then there had been Jamie Fraser's reaction when the Porpoise had taken his wife. Desperation, had been the only word for the look on Fraser's face as he had faced off with Captain Raines, begging to be kept within view of the ship that had taken his wife. It would not have surprised Baxley if mutiny had been being planned...at least by Fraser. The man would have done anything to get his wife back.
It had been a miracle that after all they had been through...running through gales and then into uncharted shoals, a broken mast and dead crew...that Fraser had found his wife after she jumped overboard to warn him of warrants issued against him. He had watched from the ship as Fraser had sprinted up the beach to catch his wife as she flew into his arms. Their love had been on show for everyone to see then.
No, it didn't surprise him at all, that James Fraser would dive overboard in an attempt to save his wife...his heart.
Upon receiving confirmation, from those searching below deck, that no sign had been found of the Frasers, he had advised Fraser's family that Claire and Jamie Fraser had been lost overboard.
All were bereft. Marsali had turned into her husband's arms, dissolving into tears. Young Mr Murray had dropped to the bench, unashamed at the tears which fell from his eyes.
When Baxley explained what he thought had happened, Ian Murray had turned to his family and friends, saying, "Why didn't we stop her? She told us to stay below because of how dangerous it was. How could we think that it would be safe for her?"
Guiltily, they all looked at each other. It was true. They had all known how dangerous it was on deck.
Fergus finally spoke up, his voice ragged with grief. "Milady knew how dangerous it was, it's true. But she would not be parted from Milord again. That is the truth of it. She was not willing to be separated from him again...no matter what happened."
Marsali raised her head from her husband's shoulder. "Daddy...he'd only been my father for two years, but he was everything I had ever hoped for in a father. Except, that I knew he was not happy with my mother. He was always wonderful to Joanie and me, but I could see that their relationship was not what it should be. I know I didn't like Claire when she first came back...I blamed her for disrupting my new family. But seeing them together, it was so obvious that she was his heart and soul. When she came back, he came to life in a way that I couldn't have imagined."
"Oui, ma chere, it was as if the last twenty years disappeared. I can only hope that what you have surmised is indeed what happened. For I know, that neither of them would want to go on...again... without the other."
Baxley felt the family and friends deserved to grieve in private. He made his way back on deck, just as he heard "Ahoy, the Ship." Baxley and Hogan rushed to the rail to see a group of men coming towards them down the beach.
As the men clambered aboard, Baxley introduced himself and asked where they were. "You're in the colony of Georgia...at Les Perles plantation. The plantation house is a couple of miles from here, but we will see that you and your companions are taken there straight away. Mr and Mrs Oliver will be more than pleased to give you shelter."
Baxley thanked them and they started making arrangements to have everyone bought on deck before moving to the shore.
As the group started moving along the shoreline, Ian Murray found himself walking beside Baxley and one of the older men in the party. "Sir, I was wondering...we are missing two of our party, who we believe were lost overboard during the storm. Is there any chance, you may have found other survivors...or bodies?"
George Stone, the overseer of Les Perles, turned to young Ian. "I can't say with any certainty, sir. We have had reports of wreckage all along the coast for miles. We will certainly investigate further for you, once we get you all back to Les Perles."
Baxley placed his hand on young Murray's shoulder, indicating his support. He felt that the young man's question revealed how desperately they all hoped for a miracle...even if it was a very unlikely one.
The End