A Love of Conviction

By Melanie Corona

Eliza Taylor was convicted and transported for the crime of stealing. She suffers being put in chains, locked up and degraded, to the point where life holds no meaning. Kept prisoner in the dark hold of a ship bound for a penal colony, Eliza is at the mercy of men who, at every turn, threaten to use her to their advantage. That is, of course, until fate lands her at the feet of Lord William Townshend. His kindness and loyalty capture Eliza's heart. Oblivious to her growing feelings, William continues his journey on a quest for another woman, one he set his heart on marrying when he was a young man. When the winds of change reveal that his feelings may be turning her way, Eliza doubts her battered and wounded spirit will have enough strength to survive falling in love. Eliza encounters obstacles she never dreamed she would face but is determined to conquer them to gain her freedom. The cost of her freedom is high, and the villainous sergeant in charge will do everything in his power to use her for his own vengeful purposes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melanie Corona
• Release date: Aug 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310976469

Melanie Corona

Melanie Corona was born in Darwin in the Northern Territory of Australia, and raised in Alice Springs (the very centre of the country). She has always loved reading and telling "tall tales" and wrote poetry all the time. Her greatest influence was her grandpa Majid who kept all the grandchildren entertained all the time with his stories, music and passion for writing. Melanie didn't tell anyone she wrote when she started because she was to shy, and now, has no idea why she was like that. She has stories to tell and wants to share them with whoever will read them. “I am not, and never will profess to be an awesome writer, but I will try to entertain, while bringing to life the history of my country, one page at a time.”

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A Love of Conviction

Copyright 2014 Melanie Corona

First Edition

All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976 as well as the Australia Copyright Act of 1968. No part of these publications may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the Author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Cover and Formatting by ShoutLines Design

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This book is lovingly dedicated to the memory of my friend, Carolyn Prickett, better known to me as Caz. She not only helped me with my writing but also pushed me forward and reassured me at every turn because she believed in me and thought my writing was worth it. She was funny and wise, loved her family, and was always there for those who needed her. I will miss her in my life. She was one of the greatest friends I have never met. Because of you, I will push forward. Love you, Sista.

Table of Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Staying Strong

Thrown In

A Chance

Not Idle

About Me

Sea Sickness

A Broken Deal

Dry Land

In the Arms of a Man

Goodbye, My Love. Hello, Friendship.

Interesting

A Heart Torn

The Docks

The Changing Winds

A Wave of Confusion

We're Alive

Broken

A Place to Lay Your Head

His Vengeance

Voices

Girl Talk

Grace and Hope

The Awkward Dinner

My Love

No More Games

The L Word

Epilogue

About the Author

Other Books by Melanie

Sneak Peek of Treasured Land

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I would like to thank all of my readers from Wattpad, particularly those who have supported me from the start. I couldn’t have felt I could do this if it wasn’t for them picking up every chapter and cheering this story on.

A big thank you to my amazing beta reader team. Their input and support is invaluable to me. I couldn’t go through with this process without all you wonderful ladies, including Jo laws, Crystal Gauthier, Brandi Teuscher, Dawnmarie Stevens, Janeane Kay Dee, Janet Opoka, Leanne Carthew, Libby Cercasa, Monica Boots, and Shannon McKinley.

And to Caz Prickett and Robyn Hatchard, I will never forget the time you have both sacrificed to proof and edit this book. Your willingness to help me and see me deliver the best book possible makes me feel humble to have such women as friends. My only regret is that Caz will never get to see the final product, but her mark has forever been made upon the pages of this story.

Thank you to R. A. Mizer from Shoutlines for designing the amazing cover of A Love of Conviction and for formatting the final manuscript. This woman has been amazingly patient with me and brought Eliza to life, making this book sparkle inside and out.

Thank you so much to the amazing Nicole Madison, who edited this story. She polished it till the characters literally jumped off the page. I will forever be grateful to her and highly recommend her editorial services.

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For the thousandth time, my mind went back to the moment I picked up that coin. It looked so shiny and new. The small gold piece caught my eye, being so out of place for where it was. I couldn’t help feeling drawn to it. I remembered how excited I felt holding it in my hand, not really believing my luck. I purchased an apple with it. Sometimes, like now, I can still taste its sweet juice swirling in my mouth and running down the back of my throat. The crunch of its flesh was loud and welcoming as I bit into the blemish-free skin. I enjoyed that piece of fruit, taking longer than normal to finish it off, especially not having tasted anything like it for some time. After wiping the remnants of juice from my lips, I sat back against the old building behind me and closed my eyes, savouring the feeling of having something in my stomach for the first time in over a day.

It was a good memory, a five-minute moment in time that served a hundred days and more after. One I held onto as a reminder that something good did come from choosing to walk down that particular alley that day. I don’t regret picking up that coin. How could I? It was the only thing I actually didn’t regret doing in the time after the dock fires, the only piece of joy I used to get me through the hell hole I landed in.

A voice and the shuffle of feet pierced through my thoughts and the dark silence. I cocked my head to the noise. Soon after, I felt a shift in the air as someone opened the heavy door across from me. A sliver of light touched my bare, dirty feet as Bree was thrown back into our small hold, landing right on top of my legs. I winced at the pain the weight of her body caused as she lay helpless across me, making the steel cuffs around my ankles rub on my raw, blistering skin. I looked to the door, more as a reaction than being interested in who was standing there. As I was just making out the shape of a large man, I felt a damp cloth hit my face.

You’re next. Wash yourself. We have a special job for you, said the man as he closed the door behind him, encasing the room in darkness once again.

It was then that Bree started to cry. I thought she was unconscious, but it seemed I was wrong. She smelt salty from sweat. Even over my own stench and that of the hold, I could smell her. She tried to push herself off my legs, so I raised my chained hands and leaned forward to help her. I pushed at her shoulders and held her arms steady until she was stable.

It’s alright, Bree. It’s over. Her crying came harder with my attempts at consolation. Her chains clanked in the dark as she scooted her body to sit next to me against the back wall of our small cell. I kept hold of her arm to comfort her until she cried it out. It took a long time.

We had been at sea for little more than a month. I had been in confinement with Bree from the start. In a twisted way, luck was on our side until then. At first, we’d stayed in a state of uncertainty, jumping at every sound. When we finally began feeling as though we were relatively forgotten, Bree was abruptly taken away. She was gone for perhaps a day, maybe less. We knew what happened to women in our situation on these ships. We’d been told back in England. The sergeants in charge of making sure we got on the ship made it very clear what we were for. When we were first told what was to happen to us, Bree and I fought to get out of the prison. That gained both of us a whipping and confinement until we were boarded. Our heads were shaved prior to us sailing, and I was glad of it. We might be on the ocean, but I could still hear small creatures move around in the dark. My long black hair would have been a matted mess and infested if not.

It hurts, Eliza. I didn’t know what to say to that because apparently I was next, and I would find out for myself exactly what she meant.

I’m sorry, Bree. That was all I could manage to say to her. Feeling around for the wet cloth that had been thrown at my head, I used it to wipe over Bree’s face. Then, I handed it to her to use as she pleased.

It’s not for much longer now, Bree. Maybe another three to four weeks. Just think how bad it could have been if the ship was smaller and there were fewer of us.

Eliza, we were not forgotten about. I was taken to the captain. It was too much to hope for that they had put us away for the duration of the trip. I let out a deep sigh.

Hmmm… I was curious as to what I should expect, but I didn’t want to push Bree’s fragile state. I couldn’t fear what was to happen anymore than I already did.

The hours passed by the same as they had the weeks prior–very slowly. My ankles had always hurt, but by then they throbbed like they did when I was first chained. In the beginning, I tried to keep them still, so they could heal, and I think it was working until Bree landed on me. Leaning forward, I used my finger to wipe around the place where it hurt and felt a sticky liquid pooling there. I was bleeding again. Not that I was surprised. Bree landed quite hard.

Bree, did you get to see the sun? Bree and I had not seen the sun from the time we were led down into the ship. Our first holding cell was going to be in the open-barred cells with the men, but Bree and I had kicked and screamed. I even bit someone. I was going to fight for the only thing that was mine, and it seemed the only thing I had left to fight for. We were beaten again. Both of us were weaker than we normally were when we were free women, so it didn’t take much for one grown man to knock out two frail women. At least we didn’t get the whip again. A sore head was worth being saved that.

When I woke up, it was in the dark. I remember feeling frantic as I felt around the room, trying to decipher where, and how safe, I was. I was shocked and relieved to come into contact with Bree's body lying on the floor, although I didn’t actually know it was her until she moaned. We were sore everywhere. That was a tough couple of days. I still had a scab on the side of my head, but at least we were together.

They shoved our food in through a hinged flap next to the door. When they came with food, a lantern often accompanied them. Through that flap was the only time we could get a glimpse of each other. The food was awful, mostly being a cool, watery soup, with questionable things floating in it. We ate it anyway. It was better we could not see what was going into our mouths.

No, I didn’t see the sun. It was night, but the stars looked amazing, Eliza.

We will survive this, Bree, and try to escape once we get to shore. Maybe someone will want us to work for them, and then we can skip off when the time is right.

We will see how much you want to survive after tonight, Eliza. I heard the mocking tone in her voice, and she was right. Everything is easier said than done when you are ignorant of something, and Bree had every right to be sour now. Hearing the sound of people coming saved me from replying to Bree. It was probably mealtime, but who’s to know? We waited in silence to find out.

Not surprisingly, I heard the clanking of heavy keys and those keys being used on our door. It creaked wide open, just brushing past our feet as it swung inwards. Bree and I lifted our hands to shield our eyes from the light.

I thought I told you to clean up. It was the same man as earlier. His voice was harsh and intimidating. Go get me a wet rag, he said to someone standing with him. If it weren’t for that pretty little face of yours, you’d be screaming to die right about now.

I felt the small space we occupied close in on me even more, as the thickset, burley, unshaven man stepped over my feet to kneel almost in front of me. His breath smelt like onions. I wanted to gag as it washed over my face when he spoke, and I briefly wondered what my own would smell like. Suddenly, I felt his hand under my chin, and he turned my head from left to right, appraising my face. In that moment, I felt looked over like a piece of flesh for sale. In my current reality, I actually was. Hmm, yes, I can see why. Look at me, wench. I quickly raised my eyes to look this man directly in his, so I wouldn’t upset him. In a previous life, before picking up that coin, I was never one to cower. Listen to me now. Just do what you are told and you’ll be alright. For a small moment we stared at each other, and I could have sworn I saw a fraction of humanity in his eyes. He was trying to help.

Why does it have to be this way? Why can’t you just leave us until we get to land?

A crooked smile revealed teeth. I was surprised he had a full set in front. Even though they were stained, they were in a good condition. This man was rough looking, but he wasn’t entirely grotesque. The only thing I smelt was his breath and a man who hadn’t properly bathed but took the time to sponge himself. For a ship like this one, it was truly unexpected.

Please just leave us here.

I’m awful sorry, missy, but the sergeant in charge of you needs you, he said, letting go of my chin but remaining in front of me. You have spirit, and he could not see that broken, for what he needs you for.

What about me? She is spared, but I am not. Why? Because I didn’t show enough spunk or that my eyes aren’t as blue? Bree spat out. I’ll show you spunk. And then quite quickly, Bree kicked the leg out from under the man in front of me. He fell forward, placing two arms on either side of my body to catch himself.

Why you little... He moved off me slightly to strike Bree.

Please, stop it. Don’t hurt her! I yelled. Bree had her arm raised over her face, prepared for the blow that didn’t come. We both knew how much they hurt.

I don’t think you know how lucky you are, wench. Try having a hundred stinky men want your attentions, rather than just a few. He was right. I looked hard at Bree and shook my head. She took my warning and lifted her chin as she looked away. The man turned back at me.

What’s your name? I asked. I thought that maybe, if we were nice to him, he would return the favour. Already he’d held back from striking Bree. He answered after little hesitation.

Hank. The name is Hank, and you stink. He looked behind him as light from the lantern he left in the passage dimmed when someone stood in front of it.

Here you go, boss, the young man said as he handed Hank a newly dampened cloth. Hank snatched the cloth that was passed to him and none too gently put it in my hands. Your face is right dirty. Scrub it the best you can. Then he stood, turned, and left us alone.

Once we knew no one was there anymore, Bree said, Thank you Eliza, but I wouldn’t have minded, though. Who cares what happens now, right?

You might afterwards, Bree. Don’t kid yourself. Don’t forget, I’m not free of it either, you know. I started to wipe my face. The cool, clean-smelling cloth felt rather nice. I wiped my eyes. They felt horrible from built-up grime. When I got as much done as I could on my face and spikey-feeling head, I turned my attention to my ankles and wrists. I suppose we are lucky they didn’t keep the neck ones on us, I absently reflected.

Yes, they felt like hell, Bree said. Try and get some sleep, Eliza. It might help.

I nodded, even though I knew Bree couldn’t see me. I laid my head back and tried to imagine I was in a bed. It worked, and I was soon asleep.

Later, and I’m not sure how much, Bree shook me awake. Food’s here.

I sat up straight and took the bowl Bree was trying to put into my hands.

Just pretend it’s a stew made of mutton and spices. And the potato is so tender that it’s slipping down into your belly in one smooth swallow. It worked. It always worked. Before long I had finished my meagre serving of mush.

Thank you, Bree. She took my hand in hers, and we held each other until we heard the keys open our door again, and Hank appeared before us.

Come now, wench. It’s time.

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I could not help the unsteadiness of my legs. Months of insufficient food and ankle pain shooting mercilessly up my legs anytime I tried to stand left me sitting day in and out, making my unused legs stiff and weak. I usually only moved to eat or relieve myself, which didn’t take as much effort as standing.

I used the wall of the hold to help pull me into a standing position as Hank waited. When I was finally up, dizziness swept over me and I fell to a heap on the floor again. If I’d had hair, I knew Hank would have pulled me up by it.

Hopeless wench! Get up! Hank yelled. I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me. I kept my gaze focused on the floor, as it was easier to get to my feet. Now, I just have to walk, I thought. I clenched my teeth together and fought the agony each step caused me.

I wasn’t moving fast enough. Hank grabbed my arm and pulled me the rest of the way through the door. I stumbled over my chains, and tried to muffle my painful cry as he continued to pull me down the narrow passage which led us out.

When we reached a ladder, the first thing I noticed was the moonlight softly spilling down through the opening at the top. The beauty of it gave me a flicker of hope. Not truly knowing what awaited me by following that moonbeam up the ladder, I drew in a deep breath to gain a little courage for what was to come. Just to see open space again should renew my spirits. It had to, and I was so close.

I quickly started to feel closed in. Odd, because I had been closed in for so long now. I had kept a tight rein on those types of emotions, and this little glimpse of freedom had me needing to get out of that caving hole. Hank took me by my waist, bringing me back to the moment, and lifted me up as high as he could reach, placing me on a rung. I had to quickly take hold of the sides of the ladder to stop from falling back onto him.

Then, quite suddenly, my forearms were roughly grabbed, and I was yanked up into another floor of the ship. I had no idea how deep down we were, as I was passed out when we were placed in the hold. I looked about me. It seemed to be a storage area of some sort.

Move out the way, wench, Hank said, shoving me to the side with one of his beefy hands, so he could stand on the floor with me and whoever had pulled me up.

I have a name, idiot, I said as I tried to regain my balance.

Call me an idiot again and you won’t make it to the deck. You hear me? My heart skipped a beat at the thought of being denied my breath of fresh air. I didn’t flinch, though, as Hank moved his body right in front of mine. He stared down at me for a moment, unsatisfied with my reaction. He turned to the other man, who was watching us. What are you waiting for? Get up that hole. With this said, Hank pulled my arm to position me in front of him, ready to repeat what he did to get me up to the first phase of our exit.

Once I reached the deck, I immediately looked toward the sky. It was night, a beautiful, clear night. I filled my lungs with a deep breath of fresh sea air and shut my eyes to savour the moment before I was pulled along by my arm again. The only sounds I could hear beyond the waves crashing against the ship were soft chuckles from whoever was on deck and my heavy chain as it dragged along the wooden floor. I was glad of this. It helped as I steeled myself for what was next.

We didn’t have to go far. Halfway down another narrow passage, Hank let go of my arm to walk in front of me. I knew I was expected to follow, but I didn’t. With a decision made in the split of a second, stupid or not, I turned and ran, chains, pain, and all. I had no idea where I was going.

At the end of the passage, Hank caught me around my waist and pulled me back flush against his body. He spoke into my ear from behind, laughing as he spoke. That was stupid. Beyond this passage is a crew of men deprived of a woman’s affection and a whole floor below with men that stink worse than you. I felt disgusted.

Led once again by Hank, and this time he didn’t let go of me, we headed to a door at the end of the passage. The smell of food, real food reached my senses as we got closer, and it made my stomach growl, even though I had not long ago eaten. Hank knocked firmly on the door when we stopped, a sound that made my head hurt for many reasons.

Captain, it’s Hank.

Come in.

Upon entering what was obviously the captain’s quarters, I curiously looked around the space. It was quite large, larger than I thought it would be. Not that I had anything in my knowledge to compare it with. It was actually clean and tidy. Directly in front of us was the captain's desk, with, I assumed, the captain sitting behind it, head down, working on something. The desk was underneath some windows, providing a view of the front of the ship. It was dark, and I couldn’t be sure, but the captain wouldn’t have his cabin at the rear of his ship, would he? One wall was decorated with swords, with handles the likes I had never seen before and some lovely looking pistols. A large map covered most of the opposite wall. The paper was yellowed and the lines outlining the different countries were in black. It looked rather interesting. Behind me to my left was a doorway I would have thought led to the sleeping quarters. Everything was made of a dark wood, which completed a wholly masculine feel. There were other knickknacks on display, possibly collected from around the world. I looked back toward the desk to find the man behind it looking up and straight at me. I glanced at Hank. He was looking at me, too. I must have missed something.

What is it? I asked, at a loss for anything else to say. I turned my attention back to the man behind the desk when he cleared his throat, and waited, maybe a little too haughtily, for him to say something.

Eliza. That is your name, isn’t it? I nodded my head, not taking my eyes off him. He seemed quite young for what I was expecting. Mid to late thirties maybe, and he certainly had that air of authority surrounding him. His hair was blacker than mine, and his eyes were dark and serious. He sat in his chair, leaning into the back of it with his head resting on his fisted hand. He almost looked bored–almost. Do you talk?

Still not taking my eyes off him, I replied simply, Yes.

Will you excuse us, Hank? I looked to Hank. He nodded his head and left through the door we entered. When it clicked shut, the captain rose to his feet. He was a tall man, not as bulky as Hank, but he appeared strong and virile. He wore snug-fitting pants with boots up to his knees, and an off-white shirt that looked so soft I could rub my face in it. He was not particularly handsome. The lines on his face were quite hard. Actually, he made me feel scared. I hope you’ve been treated well.

I snorted my laugh and gave him a sharp look. If being treated well means being knocked out and left for dead in a small, rodent-infested, smelly hole, and fed something that tastes like it has been scrapped off the floor of the galley, then yes, I think you have given us a voyage to remember. My gaze didn’t waver. The captain just gave me a smirk and crossed his arms over his chest. His hair was just long enough to put it in a tie at the nape of his neck. Some of it had come loose, and he tucked it absently behind his ear.

Well then, I’m glad I was able to accommodate you. He was laughing at me. I just raised my chin and waited for him to say what he wanted to say. You know why you are here?

Yes, I’m here because I didn’t look as though I could afford an apple, so it was assumed I stole it. He laughed again, but I refused, at all costs, to admit that I deserved to be living the life I was then.

I knew there was something different about you. I saw it when you came aboard. You should thank me for keeping you in that smelly hole for as long as I did. Truth of the matter is, I was going to keep you there until we went ashore and then feed you to the dogs that wait for fine lady meat such as yourself. But just as I thought I might be, I am in need of your services.

I wanted to gasp, firstly at slipping the chance to have been left alone for the entire journey and then at the way he disregarded the fact that I was a living person. But I didn’t. I slowly blinked and fixed my sights on him again.

And what do I have to give? I said, gesturing to my tattered, stained dress. Fight, fight for what is mine, I thought, and make him say it.

You know exactly what you have. He raised one eyebrow at me. You are going to entertain a certain lord I have aboard the ship.

And what if I refuse?

Then you go below decks.

I knew by the tone of his voice that there was no room for argument. This man was being quite serious. I mulled over what he just said whilst trying to keep my face unreadable. I wasn’t too sure how I was doing since the thought of going below decks frightened me to no end.

It’s not as though you have a choice, he added, just to drive home his threat.

I have choices.

Yes, that’s right. You choose to have yourself beaten, which must be fun for you.

It’s preferred, I said, then watched as the captain pushed himself away from his desk and stepped around it to stand right in front of me. Again I thought, here was another man who probably wished I had hair. I could see it in his face as his eyes scanned my short crop. Instead of being able to force me to keep looking at him by pulling my head back with hair, he roughly took hold of my chin with one of his large hands. At this close, I could smell him. It was a slightly fishy smell mixed with sweat. His shirt still looked soft, but I no longer wished to put my face anywhere near it.

I am going to get you some water, and you are going to clean yourself up. Until we get to land, you are mine, and I’ll do with you as I please. He pushed me back with the one hand that was holding me, and I fell to the floor. That reminded me that my ankles were chained and hurting. He was strong, and I knew there was not much I could do to defy him right then.

So you expect me to seduce a man wearing these? I asked as I held up my hands, showing him the black irons around my wrists. He didn’t look at me.