“Ho, Captain,” David called out as William handed him his violin and bow before joining the others across the plank to scavenge the sinking ship.
Swain regarded him with an eyebrow arched in question.
“Where will…” David leaned toward the girl at his side. “What’s your name?”
“Miss Amelia Archer,” she answered, the lyrical quality of her voice as attractive as the rest of her.
“Where will Miss Archer be staying until her family claims her?” he finished. In the hold with the men was out of the question, and as the ship’s musician, he had no cabin to offer.
The captain rubbed his chin for the space of a minute, then nodded. “Procter will give up his cabin for the remainder of the voyage. See it done.”
Procter uttered a curse. The carpenter and sometimes surgeon strode toward them, his balding head shining from the sun’s rays. “I’ll remove my things.”
“My thanks,” Amelia said as he passed by.
Procter ignored her. Dammit. Another crewman with a grievance against her. He’d best be on his guard and prepare himself, for this voyage might prove to be a long one.
Chapter Two
Amelia paced the cabin she’d been given. She should be asleep, but the thoughts churning in her head didn’t allow her any peace. She didn’t even go to the trouble of changing for bed. Despite Mr.… What was his surname? Hmm. Despite David’s earlier heroics, how many of the crew still wanted her gone? A simple lock on a door wouldn’t keep them at bay if they were determined to throw her overboard.
Her attention caught on the bowl of stew sitting on the small table. She cringed. The notion of food turned her stomach. Even if she managed to survive until they reached England, she didn’t want to return. She’d left her home for a reason. To keep her father and her stepsister safe. To finally find a place to live out her days without worrying she’d cause more pain.
Melodic strains of a violin carried through the door. A soft, sleepy song. David. By the sounds of it, he played just outside her cabin. For several moments, she stood still, listening. The music calmed and soothed her frayed nerves as sure as a hand stroking her back.
When the song ended, she opened her door. David sat on a lone chair in the corridor. His dark brown hair was shaggy, as if he hadn’t a care about his appearance. The notes he’d played lingered like the memory of a caress, and her gaze strayed to the deep V of his loose white shirt. It displayed a great deal of his sculpted chest, and his tan breeches… They molded over his thighs, emphasizing his lean muscular legs, and ended at his knees, his calves and feet bare.
Soulful brown eyes stared back at her, and she glimpsed a bruise along his jaw—another injury that could be laid at her feet. Under his regard, a tingling sensation flitted through her belly, and her nerves frayed for a whole different reason.
“Your music is lovely,” she blurted. “Were you playing for me?” Why did I ask that? She’d never been so bold before.
He peered at her with a light in his eyes that gave her the answer she sought, and those tingles sprang to life once more. He glanced toward the ceiling. “Captain Swain’s cabin is above us. Sometimes he requests that I play when he can’t sleep.”
“Not tonight?”
The corner of his lips twitched. “Not tonight.” He set aside the violin and bow. “Although I don’t play much at all anymore unless ordered.”
“Why? Your music is extraordinary.”
He ran his fingers along the strings. “I’ve lost the love of playing.”
“That can’t be. No one makes music as you do without emotion.”
Curiosity wrinkled his brow. “What does it matter?”
She detected a sadness about him that belied his words. It mattered a good deal. “You couldn’t have become so proficient without much practice. At one time, your playing must have been a great passion.”
“At one time.”
What had happened to bring about such change? Especially in one so young. One who appeared to be not much older than herself. “I find it sad to think something that gave you pleasure has now become a burden.”
He turned his attention to the floor. “Did I wake you?”
Very well. He wouldn’t talk to her now, but possibly later. “No, I can’t sleep.”
“Why would that be?”
Why indeed, with Mr. Rixon against her. “Does your captain always invite those he captures to join his crew?”
He shook his head. “We lost many in our last battle, including our old captain. This one was only elected last month.”
One month. Given his lack of experience leading the crew, would the captain’s authority be respected, his orders followed? “Mr. Rixon won’t relent in his crusade to have me removed from the ship, regardless of your captain’s decision to allow me to stay.” Lord knew he’d been an incessant burr in Captain Tuttlage’s side. If Captain Tuttlage hadn’t been so resolute in keeping her safe, Rixon might have already succeeded in casting her off.
“Why? Is he highly superstitious?”
“I suppose that would be one reason.”
“Does he have others?”
She could tell him of Mr. Rixon’s advances, but that had occurred months ago. He hadn’t dared since, not after Captain Tuttlage threatened to toss him overboard if he didn’t capitulate. No, a more likely answer came to mind. “It seems to me that Mr. Rixon likes to have everyone’s ear.”
“Yes, I see that he does.” David scowled. “He’s not on our decks but minutes before he’s flapping his gums about nonsense. No doubt it’s a ploy to raise his importance in the eyes of the crew. If he can somehow make them believe he speaks the truth, they’ll come to rely on his advice more and more.”
Dear God. How soon before he has me thrown from the ship? Her worry must have shown.
David dropped his hand to the hilt of the sword at his waist, and his eyes darted to hers. “I promise I’ll do my best to protect you.”
Something in her chest squeezed tight. Was that why he sat outside her door? Of course. But their journey would be a long one. He couldn’t stand guard night and day. He’d need to rest sometime. “You can’t stay out here all night.”
“I can and I will.”
“What about sleep?”
“I can’t afford to sleep.” His head cocked to the side as if he didn’t understand why she’d question him. “You have the right of it. Rixon isn’t the type to give up because of one defeat. In fact, he’ll likely be more determined than ever to convince everyone of their plight. And the crew, they’re a superstitious lot.”
Warmth spread through her. This man would defend her to the last. “At least come inside. You can sleep knowing you’ll have time to react if someone attempts to break through the door.”
His dark gaze slid down her body and back up, hesitating briefly at her square bodice. “I shouldn’t.”
Her breath caught at his perusal. He was right. It would be improper, but for the best of intentions. “I trust you.” After all, he was the sole reason she still lived.
David swallowed hard. “Perhaps you’re too trusting.”
So she’d been told repeatedly by her father, but this time she was sure. “Please,” she insisted. “I’ll feel safer knowing you’re there.” No man could live without sleep. What if he nodded off and was taken by surprise?
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he released a long exhale. “If that’s what you wish.” He retrieved his instrument from the floor and extinguished his lantern.
She led the way. Although the cabin’s size prevented her from going far, she moved to stand before the small table by the bed. “Where would you like to—”
He strode through the door, his head nearly brushing the top of the frame. He was taller than he’d seemed in the corridor, and bigger, more virile.
She gave him the key. He secured the lock and handed it back, then sat down on the planks in front of the door. “Here will do.”
The tingling had become much st
ronger now. “Good.” Clumsily, she half turned toward the bedside table, her feet tangling. She grasped the table behind her for support and attempted to act as if the misstep had never occurred. “Would you like the light?”
An amused smile raised one side of his mouth, not that she could blame him. “You can extinguish it and settle in bed,” he replied.
In bed…with a man in her room. “Yes, of course.” She straightened and spun about, bending to blow out the candle.
“Wait!” David’s arm snatched her around the waist, and he lifted the back of her petticoat.
“What are you…” She tried to twist away, but he held her in place and pounded her behind with her gown! Dear Lord. What madness is this?
He let out a rush of air, and his arms slackened around her, her hem returning to the floor. “You were on fire.”
“I was?” She looked behind and spied the slightest bit of charred lace.
David peered over her shoulder. “A candle… You’re never to carry a candle without a lantern aboard ship. The punishment is Moses’s Law.”
“I wasn’t carrying it.” She stepped away, his hands on her person unnerving. Yet as soon as they were gone, she wished them back. How long had it been since she’d felt the comfort of a touch? She pushed aside the unwelcome thought. “What is Moses’s Law?”
He blew out the candle. “It’s forty lashes less one on the bare back.” His voice, a low rumble in the dark, released a flutter of moths in her belly.
She cleared her throat. “Why less one?”
“I’m not sure,” he answered.
The window provided almost no light from the waning moon. Only the barest shadow moved when David stepped back to the door. Back to the door. Good. She’d best not become too attached to him. Friends, family, any person who became close to her suffered. Her heart couldn’t take another such blow.
“Some say it’s biblical, that thirty-nine lashes is one less than a death sentence.”
She brushed at the back of her dress, wondering how much damage had been done. “And others?”
“Others say the Romans demanded that their floggers kill a man within forty lashes, and if they didn’t, they would be put to death.”
“Then punishment for carrying a candle without a lantern is not death, just close to death.”
“Yes.”
“A pleasant story.” She climbed into bed and lay down. “No need to go on.”
A chuckle reached her from his side of the room, bringing a smile to her face. From the first moment they’d met, David had seemed too serious by far. How good to hear him laugh. Several minutes passed as she lay wide awake. With David so close, the dark bedeviled her. The silence even worse. “You fought well today,” she finally said, but frowned as guilt soured her stomach. Would he have gone to the trouble if he knew what Mr. Rixon had said was true? He hesitated so long, she wondered if he’d already fallen asleep, or could read minds.
“I’ve been trained to use my fists, but today was the first time I’ve had to put my skills to good use.”
Ah, she’d pushed him into his first fistfight. That knowledge did little to ease her guilt. Then again, he was a pirate. No doubt he’d helped his crew capture ships, and he did have a sword on his belt. He may not have fought with fists before, but he most assuredly had used his blade. Somehow that didn’t make her feel any better. She’d still been the reason he’d argued against members of his own crew, and became her protector.
“What’s your surname?” she asked. The least she could do was address him properly.
“Lamont.”
“Thank you again for what you did for me today, Mr. Lamont.” She sincerely hoped she hadn’t put him in further danger.
“I’d prefer it if you called me David.”
“Very well…David.” After all he’d done, she would allow the same. “You may call me Amelia.”
A soft laugh rode his breath. “My apologies, but I intended to all along.”
…
David accompanied Amelia to the deck, staying close to her side. “You’d be safer in the cabin.”
She raised her face skyward, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. “Then I’d miss this sunshine.” Closing her eyes, she basked in the rays before opening one lid and casting him a sideways glance. “Besides, I’ve been thinking.” She strolled over to the rail and gazed out at the sea. “Your captain must have some say over the crew if they elected him. No one would dare harm me without his permission, unless they’re willing to pay his price, and I suspect the consequences for disobeying him would be significant.”
Amelia was right on all counts, except one. “Unless the perpetrator could do the deed without getting caught.”
The spark in her eyes dimmed, and he cursed himself for planting the worry she now carried. Curse it. Her safety was his responsibility. If he did his job well, she shouldn’t have to concern herself. “Don’t listen to me,” he assured her. “The deck is nearly empty, and even if it wasn’t, no one would be so bold as to threaten you in plain view.”
Amelia’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m sure you’re right.”
As she stared out over the horizon, David scanned the deck. Strange. Why were there so few at their posts? What was meant to reassure Amelia now prickled the hairs on the nape of his neck. All those missing could be congregating, planning a way around the captain’s order, or arguing with Captain Swain to change his mind. Rixon had been so emphatic that she be left behind, he most likely wouldn’t let the matter rest. Still, no mishaps had happened thus far, other than the candle, but no one knew about that. The crew may be superstitious, but their fears would fade with time. And the captain… He wouldn’t alter his decision without good reason, not if he wanted to be looked upon as a decisive leader.
No, something else wasn’t right. He lifted his sights to the blue sky and the slack sails. Slack? His attention had been on Amelia or he might have noticed before. The air was still and stagnant. No wind at all, not even the slightest breeze. Unusual but not unheard of. It also explained the empty deck. The crew could relax with the ship becalmed.
A movement caught his eye.
William stepped from the shadows and headed toward them, his usual smile in place and Rixon’s tricorn on his head—the white plume identifying its rightful owner. “A beauty of a day, is it not?”
“Indeed,” David replied. “Amelia, may I introduce William? William, this is Amelia.”
“A pleasure it is, dear lass.” A dimple appeared in William’s freckled cheek as his smile broadened.
“I see you have a new hat,” David pointed out, “courtesy of our cabin boy.”
William turned his head side to side. “Aye. Do you like it?”
“Aye, I do.” David gave Amelia a wink. Perhaps they wouldn’t have to worry overmuch about Rixon.
“What has happened to Mr. Rixon?” she asked.
Was that concern he detected on her face? Why?
“Never fear, lass. Rixon is quite well, just busy,” William said. “Been emptyin’ the piss tubs and takin’ orders from whoever might give them. It’s been grand fun.”
David’s soft laugh joined William’s. Rixon’s pride might never recover.
“What of his predictions of tragedy and death?”
“Ah, they never end,” William confirmed. “It seems Amelia here has caused our lack of wind, she has.”
Sadness crept over Amelia’s features. Damn Rixon and his stories.
William lifted his hands. “No worries. The crew is payin’ him no heed, not with a celebration upon us.”
“Celebration?” Amelia asked.
“This afternoon we’ll be celebratin’ our latest conquest,” William nodded to David, “with music, games, and drinkin’. All are expected to come and enjoy.” He peered at Amelia. “Includin’ you.”
“I-I don’t know…” she stuttered.
“Of course she’ll come,” David answered for her. He couldn’t adequately watch over her in the cabin if he
’d be required to play for the men on deck.
Amelia didn’t argue. In fact, her face lit up as if well pleased by the news.
“Well, I’d best get below,” William said, a smile fighting to reappear. “About now is my turn again to make a request of our cabin boy.” His smile did break through then. “Maybe I’ll have him rockin’ me hammock while I take a nap. After all, I need to be well rested for the comin’ festivities.” His steps lively, he returned to the door leading below deck and disappeared.
“A party,” Amelia sighed. “It’s been so long since I’ve been to one.”
“This won’t be an elegant social event,” he reminded her. “These are pirates who will drink to excess, sing bawdy tunes, and swear until your ears burn.”
She ignored his warning, the pleased expression still on her face. “William seems like a nice fellow.”
“He is,” David agreed, remembering how the man had annoyed him at first. At the time, William’s jovial disposition had grated. That and his persistence.
“William is the type of man who must be friends with everyone, even with those who have no interest in being friends with him.”
“Why is that?”
He’d asked himself that same question countless times. “I don’t know, but it drives him mad if he thinks someone doesn’t like him. He’ll do everything in his power to change that person’s mind.” At least that’s how William had been with him. “No doubt it has something to do with how happy he is to be on this ship. This is his home now.”
She turned back toward the calm ocean waters, her gloved hands on the rail. “What did he do before?”
“He served aboard a Royal Navy ship, but not by choice.” William had told him the whole story. “He’d been drinking in a London tavern not far from the docks, and when he reached the bottom of his cup, he found a shilling had been dropped into his ale.”
“A shilling?”
“Aye. By the Navy’s way of thinking, it’s an advance payment for joining up.”
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