Chapter One
Having lived her entire life upon Whitby’s rugged coast, Cecily Beckett knew the sea as one knew a living thing. As she looked toward the water, the sharp scent of salt and brine filled her lungs as the wind rushed toward shore, tugging loose strands of her hair across her face.
Before her, the vast gray-blue expanse stretched without end, its surface in restless motion. Waves rose and fell in uneven rhythm, their crests foaming white before collapsing with a hollow crash that echoed against the cliffs.
Cecily narrowed her eyes against the wind, searching the distant horizon where sea and sky blurred into one, her heart tightening with each passing moment that revealed nothing at all.
Her father should have returned hours earlier.
As was his custom, he’d risen and left while it was still dark, hoping for as many hours as possible before the sun set.
Autumn had arrived, bringing with it not only beautiful shades of gold and copper to the leaves on trees, but also shorter days, less sunlight.
Early in the afternoon, the fishing boats dotted the horizon, bobbing on the waves as one by one they returned with their day’s catch to the busy docks where merchants, servants, and others waited to purchase whatever had been caught.
It was rare that any fisherman was left behind, as the men tended to look out for one another, so after waiting a bit longer, Cecily hurried down a jagged path that had been carved into the side of the cliff to the docks in search of one of her father’s fellow fishermen.
Once on the shoreline, Cecily got a closer look at the fishing boats. Although she was sure not to have seen her father arrive, she took in each boat as she passed them toward Thom’s boat, her father’s closest friend.
The man’s heavily lined face lit up at seeing her, his grin erasing his usual firmly set stern expression. “Ay lass, be with care on those rocks,” he held out a hand motioning for her to stop progressing closer.
Cecily complied, although she’d traversed the rocky shoreline since beginning to walk. With her arms crossed, she tapped her right foot impatiently as the older man made his way closer.
There must have been something telling in her expression because he looked around, searching the surroundings. “Is it yer da?” he asked. “Has he nae returned?”
Tears sprung to her eyes. “He has nae. I have been watching from up there. No sign of him.”
Thom shook his head. “I was in a different area today. Nae the usual. Did nae see him today except when we went out first thing.”
Both looked to the darkening horizon, knowing it would be treacherous to go out so late in the day. The sea was becoming choppier, which made it even more dangerous. Still the older man motioned to his small fishing boat.
“We can go around the cove. It is nae far. Perhaps he sought shelter there if something went wrong with his boat.”
It wasn’t the first time either her father or any of the fishermen had been late returning, many even spending the night at sea after being carried away by currents.
Some had sought the safety of coves or had gone farther out to sea to avoid storms. If for whatever reason their vessels were damaged, many survived by working tirelessly bailing water until they were rescued.
It was rare, but there had been deaths. Each time it had been an extraordinary circumstance.
Cecily did her best not to allow fear to overcome her senses. Instead she chose to believe her father was somewhere either awaiting rescue or finding shelter until able to return.
“If the boat is damaged, yer father will nae be too overwrought,” Thom said holding out a hand to help her jump into his boat. “The new one is almost finished.”
“Aye, in a sennight or two,” Cecily replied, settling onto a bench. She eyed the floor and surroundings, noting Thom had already cleaned it. Fishermen were meticulous about their vessels, ensuring they were kept in good shape. The small boats were their livelihood after all.
Thom stood and shaded his eyes in the direction of the setting sun. “Well, I’ll be.”
Perhaps premonition, or that her nerves were already on edge, but at Thom’s words the hair on the back of her neck stood on edge. Not wishing to rock the boat, she stood slowly and turned.
In the distance, a majestic ship had appeared.
Vast white sails billowed in the brisk wind, the expanses swelling as if proud of themselves.
With powerful determination, the huge ship glided across the water, its stern cutting a path through the water, causing waves to form on both sides.
It surged forward, moving closer and closer.
The Wind Dancer would anchor just offshore, and within minutes, the smaller boats hoisted on its sides would lower.
Men would row ashore to be welcomed back by families, wives, and children.
Almost every man who worked aboard the ship was from Whitby, each one with a strong connection there.
Then there was him. The captain.
Every breath left her body.
Gabriel Thorne, captain of the Wind Dancer, and one of the most respected men in Whitby was a local legend. A man who’d brought Whitby from the brink of ruin by making it the primary port for importing coal. And it was rumored that he’d faced off against the most feared local threat.
The headless horseman.
If anyone could help find her father, it was Thorne. His ship could traverse the sea no matter the time or the conditions.
The only problem was that she’d have to approach him and ask. It would be the first time they’d come face to face since he’d broken off their engagement.
“We must speak to Thorne,” Thom said, motioning to the ship. “It could be yer da’s aboard the ship.”
The thought had occurred to Cecily, and she placed a hand over her heart. “From yer lips to God’s ears,” she said quickly, climbing from the boat and hurrying to the shoreline.
Her eyes were locked on the ship, noticing all the movement. Men scampered to and fro, some hanging over the sides, peering down at the gray waters.
Straining to hopefully see her father’s familiar figure, Cecily barely noticed people were beginning to gather around her.
Word was getting out fast. Soon the shoreline would be teaming with villagers.
Most would come out of curiosity to see what treasures were brought, others to greet the men returning.
A few, mostly women, would come to get a glimpse of the handsome captain.