Roger crossed over and felt the woman's forehead. "Your right Baroness. She is not well. I'll try to get the doctor, but I am afraid that he is still busy tending to the wounded." He set his tray of food, and the extra clothing, down and hurried out the door.

Five minutes later he was back, with a disappointed look on his face. "He can't come. He's in surgery and has two more waiting. Maybe we should take the blanket off her." He crossed the room and removed the blanket from the woman. Next he took a bowl of cool water, and a rag, and wiped her heated forehead with it. "Do you think you can drink anything?" He asked the woman.

The baroness was a picturesque beauty with soft blonde hair, aristocratic features and was wearing a green dress. She looked as concerned for the strange woman and Mr. Hawthorne.

The ship was starting to toss slightly, as a storm built up. It couldn't have come at a worse time. With injured crew members still being treated, they were understaffed. Roger felt himself getting a bit sea sick and fought down the feeling. Now was not the time. This woman needed his care.