Within a Captain's Treasure (7 page)

“Where did you imagine you’d end up?”

Alice looked toward the bow of the ship and lifted her one shoulder again. “I’ve been too busy to give it much thought.”

“You’ve still got weeks.”

She met his gaze and stood a bit taller. “Then a new life in Virginia.”

Her forced determination struck him as odd. “Isn’t it what you wanted?”

“So much has happened.” Alice glanced once more to where Kgosi had lain. “It’s hard to know exactly what I want.”

The long journey should erase any doubts in her mind. And in his. “As I said, you’ve time to work it out.”

“In the meanwhile, what’s my next duty?”

“For the remainder of your time aboard, you’ll be giving our gunnery master a hand in the armory. It takes a sharp mind. You’ll do well. His name is Malcolm MacTavish. He’s a beast of a Scotsman. Red tartan. Braids in his beard. Smells like sulfur. He’s the brilliance of the
Scarlet Night’s
red smoke.”

“You used it during your attack on the
Delmar
.” She nodded. “Stunning effect. How’s it done?”

Quinn snorted. “You’ll have to pry that bit of information out of MacTavish’s dead fist. He shares his secret with no one. Until then….”

He moved closer and crooked his finger. Alice’s eyes widened. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as the lad came from behind her. “Bump will take you to your quarters.”

Was that relief on her face? “Your name is Bump?” She dipped her head when she spoke to him, looking the child in the eye, waiting for an answer which would never come.

“Aye, it suits him.” A few pointing gestures and the lad seemed to understand what he wanted. Quinn patted the boy’s shoulder and urged him forward. Bump slipped his hand in Alice’s and tugged on her to follow him. “He’s not much of a talker given the fact he can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

As Bump pulled her away, Alice shot a hard look back over her shoulder. “Why on earth is a deaf child living aboard a pirate ship?”

Quinn folded his arms over his chest. Ah, the makings of another battle for another time. Why was he deriving so much pleasure out of fighting with this woman? Better to fight than to explore other pleasures, surely. He mimicked the way she shrugged a shoulder. “Someone needed to show you to your quarters.”

* * * *

Of all the flippant… “Did you see the look he gave me?” Alice spoke to the back of the child’s head. Of course he didn’t see. “What is the man thinking? You’re a child. You shouldn’t be aboard even if you could hear. Who’s taking care of you? Protecting you?”

“Good morn,’ Tupper,” Finch called out as they passed.

Alice checked her anger. “Good day, Mister Finch.”

A round of chortles followed as Finch posed like a fine gentleman, raised his battered hat from his balding head, and swept it in a grand gesture as he bowed.

“Bloddy arse, quit grovelin’ ’n get back to work.” Jessup gave Finch a mighty shove.

Alice pulled Bump to a halt. “I apologize, Mister Jessup, if I’ve disrupted your station. I was simply saying good day.” Bump gave an insistent tug upon her sleeve, but Alice held her ground.

Jessup turned on her. “Sayin’ g’day, was ye? Next ye’ll be teachin’ these sots how to knit a tidy cozy fer their teapots. Or how to hold their pinkies when they drink their grog.” He roared at his own joke.

“Actually, I was wondering if
you
could show me a few things.”

Jessup stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes at her. “I ain’t fallin’ fer any of yer games, missy.”

“No games. You see, I’ve shot a pistol a few times now, but for the life of me, I don’t know the first thing about reloading one. And maybe you could tell me the best way to retrieve my cutlass after I’ve buried it deep in a man. I’ve had a devil of a time with that as well. Any helpful tips?”

Jessup spat at her feet and moved closer so he could sneer down at her. The smell of his breath reminded her of Rasher.

He growled low. “I ain’t gonna teach ye nothin’ Stay out of me way and ye won’t get hurt. Keep crossin’ me path, and I be showing ye how fast I ken load me pistol. Bitches die quick as a man. Yer gonna regret tryin’ te make me out te be the fool.”

Bump nearly tore the sleeve off her shirt yanking her away from Jessup until the man tried to backhand him. Alice notched her chin and pulled the boy behind her. “Touch him and you’ll regret it just as quick.” She smiled into his ugly face. “I’m not afraid of you,
Mister
Jessup.”

She turned and followed Bump as he pushed through the small crowd that had formed around them.

“I reckon you’ll be regretting’ that too,” he shouted at her back.

Bump didn’t stop tugging on her until they’d reached a short door toward the bow of the ship. He left her only long enough to shimmy up a barrel and snatch a lantern. Handing it to her, he then turned and opened the door.

The quarters were as tiny as Quinn had suggested. The sliver of a room had been achieved by hanging a bit of sailcloth between her and a storage hold full of kegs and trunks and coils of fat rope. It was only as wide and deep as necessary for a cot, a three-legged stool, and a rickety table, which kept the door from swinging fully open. “Ah, home.”

A tray sat on the table with some bread and cheese and a mug of rum. She offered some bread to Bump, but he shook his head, looking anxiously toward the door.

“Don’t you worry about Jessup. He’s just a rooster fluffing his feathers.” She bent her arms and waved them like she was flapping her wings. Bump’s eyes widen. Alice gave her best
cock-a-doodle-do
and strutted about. The boy ducked his head and gave a little snort of laughter. She pointed above deck and flipped her hand as if she were swatting at a fly before patting his shoulder.

Bump nodded and gifted her with a small grin before he hurried out.

Closing the door behind him, Alice discovered the crude latch and lock that appeared to be newly added. She gave a silent prayer of thanks. For the first time since she had come aboard, she began to relax.

Under the table she discovered a short ewer of water with a bit of cloth hung over the handle. “A bed and private bath? Pure luxury indeed.” She grinned.

After the last few grueling days, Alice wasn’t sure which she needed most. Food, sleep, or a clean face? The rumble of her stomach answered her question. As she ate and drank the sweet rum, she stripped out of her clothing and let down her hair. Using precious little of the chilly water, she wiped the grime from her face and body. Even the icy water was wonderful.

Closing her eyes, Alice sighed. Remembering days past tugged at her heart. When she returned to England with Jaxon Steele and Annalise, she wasn’t called back into service as Anna’s maid. They wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, they treated her as a treasured member of the family. She ate in the dining room and slept in her own chambers. Spent idle hours before Anna had their babe reading and riding through the miles of fields surrounding the manor.

When she’d return, rose petals would be added to her bath. Fat bars of lavender soap and thick drying clothes waited alongside the deep copper tub filled with steaming water. Alice would sink down into the blissful warmth with only her head and the tops of her knees peeking out of the festooned water.

It was heaven. Yet she couldn’t help but think, standing naked in a room little larger than that copper tub and washing with only a few handfuls of frigid water was almost as close. Beyond his insufferable rules and regulations, and questionable decisions where Bump was concerned, Quinn saw fit to give her what few comforts he could. A lock, a bed, and a bath.

“Luxury, indeed.”

A pounding startled Alice out of a deep sleep. The last thing she remembered was wrapping herself in a rough wool blanket and stretching out along the taut canvas of her cot. Bone-deep weariness claimed her, and gentle rocking combined with the song of ship’s wood creaking and the rush of water against the side of the hull had lulled her into a dreamless slumber.

Another pounding. “All hands.”

Was it still night? Without a window, it was hard to tell. She raised the oiled wick on the lantern until the smoke began to soot the glass.

The blinding of the morning’s sun answered her day or night question when Alice arrived on deck. She hadn’t the chance to secure her hair before she jammed the hat upon her head.
Land.

Ribbons of sand stretched into turquoise water. Palms and shorter trees stood twisted and bent into the steady winds bringing the
Scarlet Night
closer. They’d reached the coast of Africa. A handful of men had come down to the water. Given the times, Alice didn’t think they were there to welcome them.

The
Scarlet Night
anchored off shore, as there were no docks within the tranquil quiet cove. Men were placed in twin longboats and ferried to shore. Word must have spread as the first boats landed. Men and women soon lined the beach.

Quinn called all hands to show respect for Kgosi and his people as they left the ship. The prince’s body would be the last to leave. Before lowering him into the waiting boat, Tau approached her. Saying a few words, he touched his chest and offered her a small bow. Alice looked once again to Neo for translation.

“He owe ye a debt.”

Alice held up her hand, “That’s not—”

“To deny is to insult,” Neo clipped.

Instead, Alice nodded her understanding and watched the proud man walk away. “Thank you, Neo. I’m grateful for your knowledge.”

He jerked his chin toward the final boat heading for the beach before walking away from her. “They’re grateful for yer kindness.”

As the shrouded body of their leader returned to their shores, the people stood shoulder to shoulder in silence. One by one, they dropped to kneel in their reverence for their prince as he was carried past. His were a noble, proud people. Alice wondered if they would ever know how much he had suffered for them.

When the beach cleared, Quinn dismissed the crew and gave orders for the
Scarlet Night
to get back underway. The canvas overhead snapped as the sails were set, and each in turn caught the wind. Alice lifted her face to the cool rush of air as the ship lurched beneath her. Rigging creaked and ropes hummed from the strain of holding the great ship back when she wanted nothing more than to break free and become the wind herself.

“Next port, Virginia.” Quinn came to stand beside her.

Those three words brought a rush of jumbled thoughts and emotions. Anticipation, relief, fear. The most shocking was disappointment. What was wrong with her? Virginia was her future. Her safe, fresh future without the anchor of her past weighing her down. A new life. What she wanted and needed. Why was she debating this?

Because it was all a lie. When she stepped on shore again, her life would be one of deceit and dishonesty that would dog her every step. Here she was free of the deception because every man onboard the
Scarlet Night
knew the truth. That was what was different, the illusive sensation she couldn’t put a name to. She was free here. Freer than she would be anywhere. They knew all her crimes and respected her for it. Told the tale like some gruesome bedtime story.

Like changing her skirts for breeches, she had stripped away all the pretense of what she wanted the world to believe. In doing so, she had become what she was truly meant to be.

Oh my God, I’m a pirate!

Alice shot Quinn a look of shock at her realization. He had his gaze fixed upon the horizon. Her heart pounded. This was foolishness. She was insane. Quite mad—and she could prove it.

Standing there, the desire to be a pirate and serve upon the
Scarlet Night
paled only slightly to another desire that washed over her like a rogue wave. It was sheer craziness to want Gavin Quinn, of all men, to sweep her into his arms, crush her against his chest, beg her to stay with him, and then capture her mouth in a searing kiss. Insanity made her want to pull the lacing from his hair and…and ruffle his pristine appearance. She suddenly needed to untidy him.

To keep her hands from acting on such a ludicrous suggestion, she twisted at her ring. Good Lord, what had come over her? Gavin Quinn and a life of piracy? Perhaps there had been something in last night’s rum. Next, she’d be swinging from the rigging and singing a sea shanty. She stifled an amused cough. Heat rose to her face. Her ears threatened to burst into flames. She must be the color of a bloody radish.

Gavin looked over at her. “Are you unwell? You’re flushed.”

Alice tipped her chin and tried to hide beneath her hat. “Yes. No,” she stammered. “I’m, fine.” She put the back of her hand to her burning cheek. “The sun is warm today, don’t you think?”

“We’re standing in the shade of the mainsail. Are you ill?”

“That would explain it,” she conceded before raising her chin and meeting his gaze. Alice was quick to lower hers, convinced the clear gray of his eyes could see deep into her soul and read the wild ramblings of her mind. However, focusing on his mouth was a mistake. It only made the urge to kiss him stronger.

“Tupper?”

Watching his lips form her name tipped her world. She released a slight gasp. He grabbed her arm to steady her. He smelled of spice and salt air.

“Rough seas.” Alice came close to laying a hand to his chest, but checked herself. His buttons winked in the daylight. Without his baldric, the crisp white of his shirt fairly glowed.

He frowned. “The waters are calm.”

Not mine.

Gavin gave her arm a squeeze. “It’s fitting you’re off duty. Take the day and rest.”

She held his gaze for a scant moment longer than was prudent. “Is that an order, Captain?” Her voice turned low and breathy. Alice cleared her throat.

Gavin cocked one golden eyebrow. “If it needs to, so be it.”

Oh yes, he was much too tidy. Her lips twitched as she stifled a grin. “Aye, aye,” she whispered.

Walking away with a newfound brazen attitude put an extra ounce of sway to her hips. Was he watching her? She didn’t look back to check, but took off her hat and slapped it against her thigh. The sea breeze lifted her hair.
Are you watching now?