“Wise rule, that.”
Morgan ignored her sarcasm. “When you need light below deck, then use one of the lanterns that are available. But whatever you do, don’t set one down. They are suspended by ropes to keep them from hitting the deck and setting fire to it.”
“An extremely valuable safety tip.”
His glare intensified.
“What?” she asked in all innocence.
“These are serious matters.”
“And I’m taking them as such.” She lifted her hand and counted off his rules. “One, don’t irritate the ill-tempered cook—as if my presence is innately irritating,” she said with a shrug and it was all Morgan could do not to laugh. “But that’s fine, I’m willing to abide by your order anyway. Two, don’t get myself thrown overboard because you might not stop and come back for me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“And three,” she said, ignoring him. “If I need light, don’t start a fire. I think I have it. Is there anything else?”
“Yes. Never—” he leaned close to her and pinned her with a fierce scowl. “Never wander around below deck without me or Barney with you.”
“What about Kit?”
“I repeat, never wander—”
“Without you or Barney. I understand. I’m not allowed to walk topside, nor can I walk below deck. What could possibly be left for me to do? Oh, I know. Die from boredom!”
Bemused, Morgan took a step back, not really prepared to have this discussion with her. But he had to make her understand just exactly what kind of danger she could find herself in. “Miss James,” he said, reverting to a formal tone—anything to hide his discomfort. “I don’t know how much your parents have told you about men and…” He paused, searching for words.
“Their base cravings?” she supplied.
He nodded. “That term will suffice.”
“They gave me adequate advice and warnings,” she assured him, then she paused for a minute as if thinking something over. “You know, Captain,” Serenity said, sitting back and pursing her lips. “It seems to me that we have a problem with these rules.”
“And what is that?”
“That they are made on the presumption that I’m stupid.”
He lifted a brow. “Now, how did you get that—”
“I’m a grown woman, Captain,” she said, rising to her feet to confront him. “I can even walk and whistle at the same time without fainting. I do, after all, work alone in my father’s paper shop, which happens to be walking distance from the wharf. Believe me, Captain, I am fully capable of watching after my own affairs.”
Morgan smiled at her bravado. “I believe you said earlier, Miss James, that an ounce of prevention—”
“Is worth an army of pistols,” she said. “I agree. It is, after all, why the Good Lord gave us brains. I fully intend to keep myself out of harm’s way.”
Grateful for her sense, Morgan nodded. “I know you can’t stay down here all the time, so if you want to go topside, you can. Just make sure you’re not alone for the journey.”
“Aye, aye, Captain Drake,” she said with a mock salute.
She finished up the last bite of her breakfast, then faced him. “Now, Captain, if I may make a small request?”
“The water-closet is—”
She cleared her throat, cutting his words off. Color rose high in her cheeks. “I already found that.”
“Then what did you want?”
“Show me where I may make mischief and mayhem.”
Chapter 6
“I beg your pardon?” Morgan asked, temporarily stunned by her request.
Serenity gave him a huge smile. “Forgive me,
Captain. ’Twas a small jest. I wanted to see the look on your face. And it’s priceless. Truly, truly priceless.”
He groaned. How could she gain so much satisfaction out of making him insane?
“If you’re through with your games, then I have serious business to be about.”
“What a novel idea,” she said, pulling her small book and pencil from her pocket. “If you’ll just—”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
She paused and looked up at him. “I’m going to work. You have a ship to run and I have a story to research.”
Morgan stared at her in disbelief. How she could even think about writing after all that had happened was beyond his ken. “Isn’t writing a story what got you into this trouble?”
Her face lit up as if she were proud. “Absolutely, and if suffer I must, then far be it from me to suffer in silence. I plan to make a great novel out of this ordeal.”
“Ordeal?” he asked, offended by her choice of words. If she wanted an ordeal, he could certainly give her one!
But then he reminded himself that she was sheltered and naive, and to her this was an ordeal.
“Adventure, then,” Serenity amended. “Actually, it’s hard to say whether it’ll be an ordeal or adventure until all this is behind me. Not that it matters right now.” Putting her glasses on, she gripped her book and pencil like a soldier would his musket. “Now take me topside, Captain.”
“I’d rather take your bottom side and spank…” he said under his breath.
Serenity tensed, and gave him a look that said she wasn’t quite sure she’d heard what he said. “What was that?”
He sighed. “I feel blindsided by your chatter, Miss James.”
He watched the comical expression on her face as she tried to match the syllables he supplied her with the ones she’d originally heard.
By her frown, he could tell she knew they didn’t match.
Irritated and yet somewhat amused, Morgan headed out of the room and did his best not to grumble or curse as she followed behind him.
After several steps, Serenity asked. “You’re thinking, ‘Why me?’ aren’t you?”
He paused at her question and turned around to look at her over his shoulder. “How did you know?”
“You have that same look my father gets right before he says it out loud and implores my mother’s soul for help.”
“Does that a lot around you, does he?”
“Well, only every now…hey!” she snapped as she caught his meaning, not to mention his teasing smile. “That was rude. You don’t know me well enough to be so insolent.”
“No, but I’m learning fast.”
She gave him a damning look that told him she probably had a sudden impulse to shove him up the ladder. And under her breath she whispered, “I’ll get you!”
I wish you would, Morgan thought to himself as he turned around to help her up the short ladder that led to the deck. There was nothing he could think of that would be more pleasurable than being had by Miss Serenity James.
“Now, remember rule number two,” he said in warning, “If you fall overboard, I won’t go back for you.”
“I thought you said you would.”
“I said, I never said it. Now I am.”
“Well then, Captain, let’s go see what trouble I can go stir up before I manage to fall overboard.”
Now, that was something to fear. There was no telling what trouble a woman alone could stir up on board a ship of renegade pirates.
Morgan reached out and lightly grabbed her arm. “Remember our talk, Serenity. There are a lot of rough men aboard my ship and I’ve already breached one of the pirate’s ten greatest commandments.”
“Which is?”
“Never bring a woman on board a ship. It’s rather like storing gunpowder in the galley, next to the stove.”
Serenity cocked her head, and too late he realized what he’d let slip. Holding his breath, he hoped she hadn’t caught his words.
“It’s true then,” she asked, “that pirates have a code of honor they observe?”
“Yes, they do,” he answered, thinking the danger had passed.
“And how is it you know about this code?”
So much for that—damn the wench for her intelligence. He should have k
nown he couldn’t slip anything past her. Aye, she was a sly one. And Morgan wasn’t about to divulge his past to her. “I sail for a living.”
“But you’re not a pirate…” She paused and watched him closely as if trying to see through him. “Or are you?”
Morgan decided on the truth. “Depends on whom you ask.”
And with that flippant response, Morgan crossed the deck to speak with Jake.
“Fine,” Serenity whispered. “You go your way, but I promise I shall get to the bottom of all your secrets, Captain Drake. Just you wait and see.”
Chewing the tip of her pencil, Serenity glanced around the deck at the men who were now working quietly. A few of them glanced her way, then quickly looked back at their tasks. None of them seemed approachable.
Who looks like the most interesting member of the crew? she asked herself, looking around.
Serenity glanced up at the sails flapping in the wind. It was a gray morning, uninviting. But at least the light drizzle had stopped for the time being. By the look of the clouds, she could tell the rains would be back.
She walked around the center of the deck. Heavy winds blew at her skirts and hair, making it difficult to walk.
There was a young man of about twenty climbing up a mast with rope curled about his torso. He might have a story, but she wasn’t about to go up the sail to find it.
Maybe later.
Three men were to her left, folding the canvas sails, while another man scrubbed at the decks. To her right was a large, well-muscled black man who sat to the side with a huge rope and some long, thick, needle-shaped tool she couldn’t name.
There was something about the man that warned of danger, but even so he looked to be the crewmember with the most interesting stories.
Which meant he was the perfect man for her to talk to.
Crossing the deck, she stopped directly in front of his stool. “Hello,” she said, offering him her warmest smile.
He glanced up with a feral snarl. “I’ve killed over a hundred men,” he growled out in a low and vicious voice. “Half of them I kill for simply saying hello.”
Her heart instantly sped up.
Run away, Serenity!
Nay, she told herself. A good writer doesn’t turn tail and run. A good writer gathers the story in spite of danger.
Besides, there was something about this man that belied his fierce voice, a kindness in his dark eyes that bespoke a more gentle nature.
At least she thought she perceived that.
On second thought, she hoped she perceived that.
Deciding to test her theory, she asked, “Is that the greeting you always use when someone approaches you?”
He turned his dark stare toward her, appraising her. After several seconds of silence, he grinned. “You are a majana. Maybe we should call you ushakii, too!”
It took her a minute to translate his melodious accent. “Majana?”
“Aye, it means fine child, in my language.”
“Oh,” she said, making a quick note on her pad. “What language is that?”
“Kiswahili.”
Serenity sank to her knees on the deck next to him. “Could you spell that?”
He did and she quickly took notes, then offered him her hand. “My name is Serenity James.”
His huge, callused hand swallowed hers as he shook it. “They call me Ushakii, which means courage.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Ushakii.”
“Please, majana, call me simply Ushakii.” Now there was no mistaking the kindness in his eyes.
Grateful his malice had melted away, she watched as he returned to splitting the rope with a huge iron needle. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I am splicing the rope, then rewrapping it to make it stronger.”
“Is this what you do mostly on board the ship?”
His smile widened. “No, I have many duties. This is just the one that currently needs to be done. We will need more ropes for the storm that is to come.” He stopped his work and watched her make more notes. “What is it you do, majana?”
“I’m taking notes to write a story about Captain Drake and his crew.”
His look spoke loudly in the ancient male domination language—What, you female, write?
“It’s for my father’s paper,” she explained, and then wished she could bite her tongue off. There was nothing wrong with writing for her father. Jonathan did it.
Yet she’d always felt the need to supply that information like some sort of ready-made excuse as to how she, a woman, could get a story published. It should be enough that she was a good writer and that was why she was printed.
But it wasn’t.
Refusing to let it daunt her, she shrugged away the sudden lump in her throat and pursued her story like any man would. “Have you really killed over a hundred men?”
His deep laugh rumbled like thunder out of his chest. “Between us, majana, no. But it is what I tell the others. The mark of a man is not so much what he is, but what others think him to be.”
She pondered his words for a moment. That was the motto that her father lived and died by—protect your reputation at all cost.
Though she might hate the hypocrisy, she knew it was true. People’s opinions did matter, regardless of truth. In private, a person could be the most evil of people, cruel, vicious, but so long as the public never knew, then that person would be touted as a saint.
“Then I shall put you down as having killed over two hundred men.” She made a quick note. “Why is it you wish people to think you’re a cold-blooded murderer?”
He shrugged. “What can I say? It makes them leave me and mine alone.”
Serenity frowned at his words. “But isn’t it lonely to always be left alone?”
He looked up at her, his eyes as wise as a sage. “A man can be in a crowd always and still be alone, majana. I like my own company. You like your own company, too, I can tell. I think you know what you want.”
“Sometimes.”
He gave her a knowing stare. “What brought you to our company?”
“Stupidity mostly.”
He cocked a brow.
Serenity was reluctant to share her dreams with this man. But something in his patient expression encouraged her to trust him not to laugh at her. “May I be honest with you, Ushakii?”
“Only fair. I was honest with you.”
“I want to be a great writer,” she said, her voice heavy with her desire. “I want people everywhere to know my name and long after I die, I want people to read what I have left behind.”
“But you are a woman. It is not for you to want such things.”
He had mocked after all. “Yes, I am a woman. But I want so much more.”
His smile widened. “Like Lou, you are.”
“Lou?”
He nodded up the rigging to the young man Serenity had seen earlier. “Lou came to sea for adventure, too. He didn’t want to be a farmer like his father and brother. He wanted adventure and danger. But he is young. I think one day he will realize the sea hasn’t as much to offer as a place on the earth that you can own yourself. Raising sails is not nearly as satisfying as watching a harvest grow.”
What an odd view for a sailor, she thought. “If you feel that way, then why do you sail?”
“I have no reason to leave the sea. This ship is my home, these men my brothers. Unlike Lou, I have no other family.”
Serenity picked up her pencil and began taking more notes. “How is it you came to sail on Triton’s Revenge?”
Anger flickered through his eyes, stunning her with its intensity. She hated that she had dredged up such an unpleasant memory for him.
“I was being beaten in Cairo by a slaver,” he said, his voice filled with hatred. “The captain stopped him and bought me.”
“You’re his slave then?”
He shook his head. “Nay, the captain set me free. He said no man should be forced to serve another, said I could do whatever I wanted.”
“Why didn’t you go home?”
He sighed and looked out over the sea as if he were looking back into the past. “My village was destroyed by an enemy tribe. I had no home to return to.”
“I’m sorry, Ushakii.” She placed a hand on his arm.
He covered her hand with his and lightly stroked the backs of her fingers in a gentle caress. “Don’t feel for me, majana. Things are good here. Fate has given me this life and I vowed long ago not to dwell on things I could not change, but to focus on making my life the best it can be. I am happy to sail with the captain and see many things.”
She smiled. “I know exactly what you mean.”
Morgan looked over Jake’s shoulder and stopped midsentence when he saw Serenity talking to Ushakii.
Jake turned and followed the line of his stare.
“Well, I’ll be,” Jake said with a low whistle. “I didn’t think Ushakii talked to anyone.”
“He doesn’t.”
“Well, Drake,” Jake said, his voice laced with murder. “You better start worrying. If your woman can get more than yes or no out of Ushakii, she can get information out of anyone.”
Exchanging serious frowns, they turned in unison to see Kit joining them on deck. And each one knew the other’s thoughts as well as his own.
Kit was an easy mark for someone as beguiling as Serenity.
Worse, Kit was the one person on the ship who knew the entire truth about Morgan and Jake.
“What?” Kit asked as he neared them.
“Stay away from Serenity,” Morgan and Jake said simultaneously.
Under more normal circumstances it would have been funny.
“Seduce her, Drake,” Jake said, his gaze returning to the source of their discussion. “A woman in love will go to her grave before she betrays her man.”
Morgan shook his head. “And a woman scorned will cry out your darkest secrets from the highest mountaintop. Which is exactly what she’ll do if I seduce her, then refuse to marry her.”
“Then marry her,” Jake snapped. “Leave her pregnant and at home to tend your brats while you’re away.”
It was a thought. It was definitely a thought. But he’d made that mistake before and to this day, he paid for that mistake in nightmares and guilt.
A Pirate of her Own Page 8
