Will fulfilling the terms of her contract put Oriel's heart - and life - in jeopardy. March 1895, Oriel had been standing alone at the ship's rail, deep in her own troubling thoughts, when through gauzy shreds of fog, the tall figure of a man emerged. As he took a place beside her, the man nodded. "Looks like we might be in for a rough crossing. Temperamental, the Atlantic, this time of year." His comment needed no response. The ocean, smooth as glass upon leaaving New York harbor three days before, now churned in choppy waves. "We seem to be the only ones braving the storm." Oriel glanced over her shoulder to confirm he was speaking to her. Indeed, they were the only two on deck.