Leaving the party had been a mistake.

Course Katie supposed that that fact was something that would have done her more good an hour or two earlier. Back when she was being offered a chance to inspect a state of the art boiler in the mansion's basement. If she'd known then that leaving the ballroom would result in a chloroform drenched rug shoved in her face, and being stuffed into a sack she'd have thought twice about going.

As it was now she'd woken up on a dinghy that was now adrift at seas and being piloted by two smelly burly men who wouldn't be out of place at a thug convention. Land was still in sight and the only thing keeping Katie from just tipping the boat over and making a mad swim for the shore was the rope.

It was thick. It was sturdy. And it was knotted tightly enough to keep her ankles, wrists, and arms held in place.

She'd have screamed in frustration if i wasn't for the gag. A thick linen cloth slipped between her lips and knotted in the back. Her jaw already hurt from trying to chew through it.

All the young girl could really do to her captors without biting off her own tongue or sentencing herself to a watery grave was glare and stay alert for the first opportunity of escape. Sadly, that opportunity didn't present itself.

The dinghy came to a stop by a large intimidating sailing ship, hidden from view from the mainland by a large rocky outcropping.

Katie blinked up at the ship through her bangs. The sea spray had dampened both her hair and clothes causing them to cling to her skin and chill her to the bone. Through the strands of brown she could vaguely make out the heads of men looking down at them and shouting. The men in the dinghy shouted back up at them.

They were shouting something about "payment" and a "trade". Her stomach sank as she guessed what they were talking about. Yet for some reason, the fact that she was being kidnapped didn't dawn on her until she saw the long rope with a hook on the end being lowered down.

On the end a laden bag was tied. One of the men took the rope, unhooked the bag, and looked inside His tooth rotting grin and the glint of yellow in the moonlight was enough to tell her of the contents.

He nodded to his cohort who hauled a now struggling Katie to her feet and hooked her to the rope. After a quick tug, she felt the rope being pulled up.

Panic was a funny thing.

She'd managed remain calm up until now. But now that she was on a hook, above open water, on her way to the deck of an unknown ship instinct finally overcame her legal mind.

Katie screamed through the gag and thrashed around, swinging on the rope like a pendulum. Despite her panicked efforts, she quickly found herself being hauled over the bannister and tossed on the deck. Hands pinned her down and pulled her hair to look up into a face made up of scar tissue, and hair, with beady black eyes, and rotten smelling breath.

A smile, made up of so many black rotten teeth that it might as well be a coal mine, met her eyes.

The captain's hand grabbed her chin.

"Welcome aboard, Miss Holt."

Lance stared at the messenger. The news was too much to bear.

"She's… gone?! What do you mean she's gone?!"

The messenger stood helpless in the doorway and responded. "Late in the night during the party. They must have broken in."

"It was a room full of people!"

"The investigators think she may have been led away-"

"You think?!" He was now shaking with rage. It was an over the top reaction. The terrified face of the messenger told him that. "Doesn't anyone know anything?!"

The man shuffled his feet and didn't make eye contact.

Lance clenched the paper he had in his fist.

"What are you not telling me?"

He hesitated before saying, "A pirate ship was spotted off the coast."

Silence fell.

Lance sat down hard in a chair and buried his face into his hands.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I truly am." The messenger said before taking his leave.

Lance sat there for what seemed like forever just trying to steady his breathing. Finally, when he could exhale without letting out a sob, he shifted his gaze to the letter in his hand.

After the party he'd returned to his room to find the letter slid under his door. He'd been surprised to see it was from Katie.

Professor Holt and his family were renown engineers and scientists and Katie was no exception. A real child genius. Lance's family had funded the Holts research for years. As a direct result he and Katie had practically been raised together.

If there had been anything she'd wanted to tell him why hadn't she brought it up at the party?

He could still remember seeing her there.

Standing amongst the numerous members of the scientific community and looking very out of place amongst all the white beards and bald heads. The green dress and bows in her long brown hair didn't help matters. Even so she had been speaking animatedly and practically dominating the conversation.

Lance, on the other hand, busied himself with entertaining the many young ladies attending the party. He wasn't the oldest, or even most affluent, child in his family. A good match wasn't essential, but it was still important. At least it was to him.

All his older siblings had already successfully courted and married young man and women from all over and had a loving married life. It was something Lance craved for himself and with no arranged marriages to tie him down there was nothing to hold him back from thoroughly exploring his options.

So although the two were attending the party together, Lance had figured it'd be alright to leave Katie to her science talk while he broke the ice with the many bachelorettes present. She hadn't protested at the time but she'd looked at him in a funny kind of way that had stuck in his mind. In fact he could recall her giving him funny looks all evening.

At the time he couldn't figure out why.

Until he read the letter.

She had to have been working on it for awhile. The ink was darker in some areas, some sentences had been completely scratched out, and he could tell from the color that she'd written some bits of it in intervals. It was a messy amalgamation of chicken scratches and ink blots.

But the feelings behind the words were clear.

I love you.

How long had she felt this way?

Was it recent? Had she felt this for months? Years? Since they were children?

How had he never caught on before now?

She had never acted like she was in love with him. Of course, having never been in love himself, how would he know?

He was so accustomed to Katie's mannerisms and presence Lance felt sure he would have noticed. He should have noticed. But he hadn't.

What was more frustrating was that Lance no longer had any idea how he felt about Katie.

Did he feel the same way? Or not?

Lance was a romantic by nature. He'd read many romance novels and committed them to memory. Playing the scenes over and over in his mind. Watching on in jealousy as lovers passed him in the streets.

He had thought that if anyone ever confessed to him he would know how he felt about them immediately. Instead Lance's emotions devolved into a storm of uncertainty. Usually he had no trouble telling how he felt and reacting accordingly. But not this time.

Now Katie was gone. Kidnapped. Carried away in the night.

And it was Lance's fault.

Everyone tried to tell him otherwise. Insisted that there was no way he could have known. Nothing he could have done.

But nonetheless what he should have done haunted him incessantly.

He should have stayed by Katie's side. Escorted her like he was supposed to instead of running off to court a bunch of women he didn't even know and likely would never see again. If he'd just been there she never would have been lured away and taken.

She was GONE and he was responsible.