Isabel pried her eyes open. The Bible stared at her from the table next to her bed, and before her mind fully awoke to the grimness of her situation, a feeling of love surrounded her. God was with her. He would never leave her.
Rubbing her eyes, she sat up. Her breasts ached, reminding her of Frederick, and instantly, terror swooped down, snatching away the momentary peace.
The ship lunged and nearly tossed her to the floor. Clinging to the bedpost, she stood and gathered her wits and her courage for another day. Rain pelted the window, and though only a gloomy haze drifted into the cabin, Isabel suspected she'd slept long into the morning.
After donning a gown, she washed her face and combed her hair. As she was pinning up the unruly tresses, a knock sounded on the door.
"Who is it?"
"'Tis I, with the doctor." Kent's deep voice bore through the oak.
"I told you I have no need."
"Allow Cutter to decide that, milady."