Loving A Lost Lord. Mary Jo Putney

Divers can ride down inside the bell and swim over to where they work, then reenter the bell when they need to catch a breath.”

      “Ingenious,” Kirkland remarked. “What will they think of next?”

      “Aristotle wrote about an early diving bell, so it’s not the newest invention around,” Will said. “But they’ve improved greatly in recent years. This one has a window to look out under the sea and compressed air so it can stay down longer.”

      Randall frowned. “I hope it can do the job.”

      “It’s likely Ash was in the engine room. If so, we should be able to recover his body.” Will’s voice was calm, though his emotions weren’t. As long as there was no body, he could hang on to the faint hope that Ash was still alive.

      With shouts and creaking timbers the Annie set off on the first leg of the journey. Archie Mactavish had been right: Jamie Bogle of Greenock had a first-rate salvage operation, with all the latest equipment. The diving bell even had a compressed-air line. Bogle also had something more: a personal motive for helping to find the Enterprise. His cousin Donald was one of the men missing and presumed dead.

      “Donald liked working for your duke,” Bogle had told Will gruffly when they’d met to see if Bogle could take on the job. “Said it was the best position he’d ever had.”

      “Then maybe we can bring his body home,” Will had replied.

      “The family ’ould like that,” Bogle had said. “Can you sail on the afternoon tide?”

      They could. The salvage ship Annie and a barge sailed south with Will, Randall, and Kirkland, plus two other passengers: Archibald Mactavish and Davy Collins, two of the four survivors of the Enterprise. With their recollections of landmarks on Arran Island, it took less than a day to locate the steamship’s wreckage. The waters were shallow, which meant the salvage operation should be straightforward.

      Under a damp and threatening sky, the diving bell submerged with two divers, one of them Bogle’s son, Duncan. The time the men were below seemed interminable, though it couldn’t have been too long. The chain of the crane rattled and became taut as it was attached to a piece of wreckage.

      The divers returned to the surface. As they wrapped themselves in heavy wool blankets, Duncan reported, “We found the aft section of the ship, including the engine room. Lucky the Enterprise wasn’t a great thumpin’ sailing ship. I think we can raise her with a bit of care.”

      His father nodded and ordered his crew to start lifting. Chain squealing, the load was raised, water pouring from every crack and crevice when the massive piece of wreckage cleared the surface.

      Will’s fingers bit into the ship’s railing as he wondered if Ash was inside. He had trouble believing that Ash, with his quiet wit and absolute loyalty, was really gone. Which was why recovering a body was so important.

      The crane was swinging the wreckage toward the barge when the chain supporting the load snapped, whipping toward Duncan Bogle. Quick as a cat, Randall tried to yank the young diver out of its vicious path. He was only partially successful. The end of the chain hit Duncan with brutal force.

      The young man cried out and fell to the deck. A tidal wave of water exploded in all directions as the massive chunk of wreckage plunged back into the sea, rocking the Annie.

      Swearing, the captain bent over his son, who gasped with pain from the impact of the violently recoiling chain. “Are you all right, lad?”

      “Right…enough,” the young man managed. “If that Sassenach hadn’t dragged me back, the bloody chain would have cut me in half, I think.”

      “It came close even so.” Randall, who had experience tending wounded men in the battlefield, knelt by Duncan and examined his chest and shoulder. “A broken shoulder and maybe a cracked rib, I think. With binding, he should heal well.”

      “But he won’t be diving for a while.” Bogle frowned. “I can replace the chains, but diving is a two-man job and Wee Geordie can’t do it alone. We’ll have to return to Greenock for another diver.”

      “I can dive,” Will said. “I lived in the West Indies as a boy and learned to swim as soon as I could walk.”

      “Are you sure?” the captain said doubtfully. “It’s hard, dangerous work even for men experienced with a diving bell.”

      “I had experience with a bell when I worked on a salvage ship looking for Spanish treasure in the Indies,” Will replied.

      Kirkland, who had joined them, said, “I didn’t know that.”

      Will smiled. “We all have our secrets. How long until you can send the bell down again, Captain?”

      Bogle assessed the sky and the surface of the sea. “There’s weather moving in, so we’d best do it soon as possible. Maybe half an hour.”

      An amazing amount of cursing was required to replace the chain. Will wished he understood the Glaswegian dialect: the blistering oaths were downright poetic.

      As the bell was readied Will changed into the crude leather suit used to ward off the cold. This was Duncan’s suit, so it was clammy wet and not really large enough, but he’d be glad for the protection when he went under.

      Wee Geordie was a muscular young man as large as Will himself. It was damned chilly in the bell as they sank beneath the surface. As he perched on the cold metal bench that ran around the inside of the bell, Will thought wistfully of the clear, turquoise waters of the West Indies.