“We’ve had over a week of downtime while the ship underwent repairs, and even longer to allow the lads time with their families. Sorry to disappoint you, mate, but the little lady herself has asked for us to teach her how to sail. I aim to fulfill her wishes. All of them, not merely the ones she makes in bed.”
Nigel’s grin widened. “So you have been—” James reached for his pistol. “Been enjoying extracurricular activities, that is.”
“What goes on between Belle and me is between us. Kindly ensure it remains that way.”
“By your foul mood, I have my answer, but fine.” His friend raised both palms to him in surrender. “It amazes me that your honor has remained wholly intact after years of piracy. Were you not the same man who claimed to leave no brothel unexplored?”
“That’s different.”
“Have you not had a lover in every port?”
“Quite different.”
“I do recall you were once so drunk you swung around a light post in Ankirith and shouted, ‘Dickings for everyone’ until Joaidane ushered you away into the tower to sleep it off.”
Heat surged over James’s face. “I’d never had their desert fire rum before.”
“What about that merchant woman whose ship we saved from sea poachers two years back. You two were rather chummy.”
“Are you done?”
“Ah, James, you can’t blame me for wondering. You swore there’d be no one for you again, not since you left Rapunzel in Eisland.”
“Rapunzel and I were very young. I’m a far different man now, and I’m sure she’s a different woman.”
“Agreed. You’ve become an even greater man than the scared youngster she once knew. It’s a shame Rapunzel and Joren haven’t made a stand against the king’s barbarism. Regardless, that old life is behind you, and Belle is here now.”
“For a short while,” he said in a quiet voice.
“Then I have another question for you. If this is temporary, if she’s merely to be a woman for a few days, what will you do once she’s small again? Once she returns to her people?”
His shoulders sagged beneath the crushing weight of reality. In three short days, the ideal and perfect woman would be no larger than his thumb again. “I don’t know. I… considered asking her to remain as a member of the crew.” But what he’d truly wanted to do in that moment, when he’d first entered the cabin to find her wrapped within his bedsheets, was lower to one knee and ask her to be his wife.
“She misses the little tyke and her friends. You know that.”
“I do, and we’re headed for Cairn Ocland as soon as we set off, as I promised.”
“That returns us to my previous question. What will you do?”
James gazed at the island shoreline without an answer. The truth was, he had no idea, torn between desire and duty. Sensing his inner turmoil, Nigel pressed no further and left him alone to his thoughts.
* * *
Tink did not like pants, but James had insisted when she emerged from his private cabin in the dress she’d borrowed from Eliza’s lover. When the wind kicked the hemline around her thighs, he dashed over and rushed her into his cabin again.
Then the big silly hadn’t allowed her to leave, although they were quite similar in height. From what she could discern by comparing him to the crew, James stood among the tallest of them. Magic had made Tink his feminine equal, mere inches shy of the captain’s impressive stature. He claimed her dresses to be inappropriate for sailing, each of them far too short.
Cook’s timely arrival with altered castoffs from Eliza’s wardrobe abruptly ended her isolation in the cabin. The older woman provided her with everything she needed to travel among the crew without causing unnecessary distraction or injuring herself.
At first, Tink had thought it unfair that James should require her to wear additional clothing, until he brought up her reaction when admiring his nude body. What reaction? As far as Tink recalled, she’d gone fuzzy and empty-headed the moment she removed his breeches.
“Thank you for making my point, Belle,” James had murmured, making her want to swat the smug expression from him.
Hours later, she looked the part of a pirate, clothed in golden brown breeches stitched with additional fabric and a fitted leather vest over a white tunic. Callum had found a pair of Little Wolf’s outgrown boots from three seasons ago before he’d hit his most recent growth spurt.
“How do the boots feel?” James asked.
“Odd. I’ve never had to wear shoes before.”
“Trust me, you’ll appreciate them after climbing rigging or running up and down the ladderwells. Your feet will be safe from splinters.”
“Now that I’m dressed, what first?” She bounced on her toes, and her gaze darted to the door, eager as a wolf cub. James laughed at her enthusiasm and opened the door with a gallant bow, gesturing her through.
“We’ve left Neverland already,” she cried, dismayed.
“You didn’t miss much,” he assured her. “We are at the mercy of the tides when it comes to certain ports, so it was either leave while the tide was high or wait around hours more, perhaps even another day.”
The distant shoreline resembled a thin strip of pearl curving around thick clouds of dark green flora. With one hand raised to shield her eyes from the sun, she watched the beautiful island grow smaller on the horizon.
Had she possessed the foresight to realize how much she’d miss the island, she would have asked for more time to explore, but one glimpse at James soothed her disappointment. Fate had placed her exactly where she needed to be, on a sea adventure alongside her pirate.
“What should I do first?” she asked. “Tell me everything about the role of a sailor. Does someone have a harder job than anyone else? Who’s the most important?”
“One thing at a time.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Every man on this ship has a duty to perform, and every man is equally important in the ship’s operations. Without Cook, we couldn’t eat—well, we’d eat, but rather miserably, I wager, and that’s poor for morale when the pickings aren’t generous in our raids. On top of repairing our arms, Patrick is a master shipwright, and I’ve seen no one better at the craft. Although Fatima is new, she’s among the first to board another ship, and her enthusiasm inspires the others. I couldn’t do this without Nigel or Callum. They’re next in the chain of command, followed by Eliza, who mends our wounds and keeps us alive when we’ve been injured.”
“What about Little Wolf? He didn’t come with us.”
“Without Little Wolf, we’ll manage, but it won’t be as easy. We’ve navigated these waters for years without him on board, faced down the Eisland Navy, outmaneuvered battleships from the Ridaeron Dynasty, and we’re still here to tell the tales.”
“When will you tell me all the tales?”
James chuckled. “You’ll have to give me the chance first.”
The day passed in a flurry of action. James took her around and introduced her to every aspect of the ship, while the crew went out of their way to make her welcome. Patrick taught her how to work the windlass for the anchor, and Peter showed her how to climb the ratlines to the top of the mast.
Up on the highest point of the ship, Tink almost felt as if she were flying. The wind whipped through her hair, and the rocking motion of the ship seemed exaggerated, as if the mast were a living entity swaying back and forth to throw her off.
“Most people think it’s a punishment to be sent up to the crow’s nest,” Peter said. He clung to the ropes like a monkey.
“How come?”
“Because it sways so much. Most of them get sick.”
“But not you?” she asked.
“Nah, I like it. Sometimes I pretend I’m flying. Is this what it feels like?”
She turned her face into the wind and closed her eyes. “A little, yes. As close as you can get, I suppose.”
“I wish I could fly,” Peter said with longing. “But as long as I can sail, that’s fin
e, too. It’s better than where I was.”
Tink opened her eyes and peered down at the deck far below. James waited close to the mast, keeping a sharp eye on the pair of them, but he didn’t call them down. In no rush to leave, she looked back at Peter and studied his freckled face.
“Will you tell me about it?”
The boy glanced away for a brief moment before looking back at her, his smile gone and his eyes sad. “I’m a Ridaeron, but I came from a poor family. My folks… Well, my father was a mean one, especially when he drank. He said it was ’cause we look nothing alike. And my mother…” He blinked a few times, failing to diminish the tears shimmering against his lashes. “She wasn’t much better. It was her debts at the races that got me sold.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“At first I thought maybe it would be good. No more belt on my bottom and at least one for sure meal a day. It wasn’t so bad until they piled us on the ship so thick you could barely breathe. Captain Hook saved me from that. Saved all of us.”
“The other children all stayed in Neverland.”
Peter’s smile returned. “Tootles didn’t. He’s with Callum in his room. Wanted to come along with him, too, so the captain said it’s all right.”
“And the others?” Tink asked.
“Tiger Lily will find everyone homes. Real homes with nice folk. If she can’t, or if they want to be on their own, they stay in the town and learn trades. Play.”
“So why didn’t you stay?” she asked.
“Because of this.” He leaned out with one foot twisted in the lines and one hand gripping tight, the other stretched out into the air. A euphoric smile spread across his face, making Tink smile in return. She secured herself in the same manner and leaned out beside him, then giggled.
“You’re right. It does feel like flying.”
Later, once they’d climbed down, Nigel and James led her to the gun deck.
“You wanted to shoot the cannons, right?” Nigel asked.
Tink whooped and clapped her hands together. “You’ll let me shoot the guns?”
“A gun,” James said, “but only if you load it yourself. If you want to shoot the heavy artillery, you’ve also got to load them for the complete experience.”
Something about their devious expressions raised the hairs on her nape, but she thought nothing of it and followed their instructions to the letter, already versed with cleaning the guns of gulls’ nests and other debris. Ramming the charge down the mouth of the device wasn’t as difficult as she expected it to be.
“Splendid job, Belle. Go and fetch a ball from the monkey.”
Despite the warning in their amused voices, Tink rushed toward the brass plate designed for holding the stacked pyramid of iron cannonballs. Her fingers surrounded cool metal, and then she balked at the weight of it.
“It weighs a hundred pounds!” she cried.
“Twenty-four actually,” Nigel said between snorts of laughter.
“Why aren’t either of you helping me?”
“As we said, we’re here to teach you, not do it for you, love.”
And teach they did, maintaining a hands-off approach that provoked her into uttering a few of Conall’s favorite words. Her arm muscles strained under the weight of it, and she waddled the entire way to the cannon. How did human men and women survive without fairy dust?
Nigel and James only laughed harder then. “Now you’re a pirate,” James said.
Despite her exhaustion and the sweat beading her brow by the end of it, there was nothing more satisfying than the thunderclap that hurled her cannonball across the sea. The recoil shook the enormous weapon, startling her, but she watched the iron projectile land with a splash.
And that was only the start of her morning. By evening, Cook had prepared an enormous dinner to celebrate Tink’s first day as an official member of the crew. Her arms ached and her legs trembled with every step. Sitting down to eat with everyone had been a relief. When she finally couldn’t stuff in another bite, she gracefully accepted James’s suggestion that she retire for the evening and retreated to the sanctuary of his cabin.
Fear of wasting their water stores drove her from the shower before she was ready to leave. She would have soaked beneath the steaming spray for hours if James hadn’t knocked to ask if she needed help.
“My everything hurts,” Tink whined as he toweled her dry. For balance, as her legs resisted cooperating with her commands, she rested both hands on his broad shoulders while he crouched before her, dabbing water from her shins.
“You asked to learn what it takes to become a sailor.”
“I did,” she admitted. But she hadn’t expected the grueling day he’d created for her. Narrowing her eyes, she peered down at her pirate, aware of how he took his time. “You did this on purpose.”
“Did what?” he asked, voice innocent.
“You created all of that work so I’d be too tired for sex.”
“Would I do such a devious thing to you, my golden bell?”
Yes, she thought, pursing her lips and eyeing him.
“Did you ask to learn how to work on the Jolly Roger?” he asked.
“Well, yes.”
“Did you want to see how hard the men work each day?”
“I did, but—”
“So then, by your agreement, we did everything you asked.”
She huffed and stomped her foot, but James only laughed.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“You did that once before, and I thought it the most adorable thing. I’m glad to see it remains so.”
“I’m not supposed to be adorable,” she grumbled.
He rose and wrapped the towel around her body, always impressing her with the deft maneuvers of his hook in lieu of his right hand. “You’re gorgeous, but the act itself is adorable.” Then he kissed her throat and found a sensitive spot that made her squirm. “Get in bed.”
“I’m not sleepy.”
“You told me you’re exhausted.”
Tink scowled up at him. “I said everything hurts.”
“My mistake. What shall we do, then? A game of chess? I could read more from my book.”
Tink turned her gaze to the windows where the golden light from the setting sun had already begun to dim. “Can we go out and look at the stars?” Eliza had suggested it just prior to dinner.
“Of course we can. Get dressed while I freshen up, and we’ll go out for as long as you like.”
* * *
James exited his quarters to find a deserted deck, empty save for one lone pirate making his way by with a mop. The wood gleamed beneath a fresh coat of aromatic oil, filling the sea-scented air with spice and heat from Samahara.
“Where is everyone?” Belle whispered.
“I don’t know. I’d like to know the same.”
Tom, the youngest member of the crew aside from Peter, picked up speed but failed to duck down the stairs and into the hold before James could address him.
“Where is everyone, Tom?”
“Ah, games have been moved to the quarters tonight, Cap’n. Deck’s all yours. Eliza said you wanted it.”
James had said no such thing, positive he hadn’t inferred it either. A glance behind him revealed Eliza at the helm. She mimed tipping a hat to him.
The blasted woman must have arranged for him and Belle to enjoy a private moment under the stars, and despite his irritation with her for failing to include him in the plan, his affection for her only grew. Eliza was a good friend.
James slid his arm around Belle’s waist and guided her to the rail. “I suppose we have the deck to ourselves to stargaze to your heart’s content.”
“They all look so different out here.” Belle raised one hand up to the sky, finger pointed outward, and traced the different constellations. “It’s almost like you can touch them.”
“You should see the nights when the ocean is completely still. It looks as though we’re sailing amidst the stars.” After moving
behind her, James placed his hand on the rail to her left, his hook propped on it to the other side. It gleamed beneath the moonlight, reflecting the tranquil silver glow.
“I’d love to see that.”
Belle leaned against his chest and tilted her head back, humming a quiet, melodic tune. He’d heard her singing before many times inside her little garden dollhouse, but he’d never asked about the words.
Soaking in her warmth, James wrapped both arms around her midsection and drew her flush with his body. The addictive floral fragrance he associated with her fairy dust wafted from her hair, present even when she was a human. Or was it his imagination and wishful thinking?
“Are you enjoying the night?” he asked in a quiet voice.
She shivered. “Yes.”
“Cold?”
Belle shook her head.
Two streaks shot across the night sky, disappearing beyond the horizon. Belle gasped and leaned forward.
“Shooting stars,” James said. “Have you never seen that before?”
“I have. In Cairn Ocland, the stars are said to be our gods watching over us. When one shoots across the sky, it’s their way of sending us help. Or a gift.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing. You mean that figuratively, yes?”
Belle twisted in his embrace to face him. She tilted her face upward, moonlight reflected in her green eyes. “No, it’s real. The sword they used to kill Maeval came from the stars themselves, sent when Sorcha asked for help. Don’t you believe in the gods?”
Unable to resist touching her, James tucked a golden strand behind her ear and considered his response. “Our gods in Eisland are nothing like yours. They’re beyond reach, and they certainly don’t interact with us to provide miracles.”
“That’s so lonely.”
“I’ve never thought so. It’s taught me to rely on myself. My own decisions and actions.”
Her nose scrunched and lips turned down at the corner. If she’d been in her natural state, there would be a cobalt glow surrounding her, kissed by a hint of purple. How long had it taken him to differentiate her moods? To learn each color and the subtle variances in color to read her emotions?
Belle and the Pirate Page 20
