Page 55 of Any Duke in a Storm

Narina turned up her button nose in scorn at that. “Hard work is…too hard. Arrghh! I’ll scupper those gutless scallywags if they try to catch me!”

“Piracy is a crime,” Lisbeth said calmly. “You’ll go to jail.”

“All the men on Exuma do it,” she said in that direct way of hers that said she saw and understood more than she should. Lisbeth frowned. Narina was much too observant and smart for her own good. Then again, they were in haven full of criminals, so what did she expect? “They talk about hiding goods all the time and snatching cargo from other ships.”

Lisbeth cleared her throat, searching for the right words. “Some of these men are bad men, Nari, who do bad things. Stealing is wrong.”

“But you do it,” she said, her small face scrunching. “And Saint, too.”

Oh, bloody hell.

“That’s complicated and I promise I will explain itto you someday,” she said. “But there are always consequences for improper actions.”

Narina stared at her for a long time before letting out a loud bellow, stomping her boot, and singing in a singsong tone, “Ohhhh, there once was a lass called Bonnie Bess. She sailed the seas with all the rest, but no one could catch her as she flew. She’ll laugh and shout and run you through, bold Bonnie Bess!” Lisbeth’s eyes went wide at the off-key shanty. “She’s as pretty as a picture like they say, but cold in the heart so best you pray. You won’t come upon her on the sea, or she’ll gut you good and make you pee, bold Bonnie Bess!” She gave another stomp and a spin. “Oh, hai, she’ll make you fly, then cut your ears and make you cry. She’ll take your gold, then peel your bones, bold Bonnie Bess!”

Lisbeth gaped, jaw slack. “Where did you hear that?”

“The old salts on theAvalonwere singing it,” Narina said and then lowered her voice with a puzzled look. “Are you ever going to be Bess again?”

“I’m still Bess, Nari. But you do know that people make most of that up. Bonnie Bess is…”Not real.But she couldn’t say that.

“A formidable sea captain, and I can tell you from experience, lassie, that jail with the company of rats and lice is not fun.” That was from Raphael who had approached on silent feet. Lisbeth caught her breath, that low baritone brushing over her senses like softly lapping waves on a sandy shore. He ruffled Narina’s hair and crouched down, peering at the threadbare coat she’d no doubt filched fromsome poor boatswain and the red sash around her waist. “Which pirate are you today?”

“Captain Kidd,” she replied excitedly. “Did you know he stashed buried treasure in the harbor back in Exuma and in New York, too? We should go on a hunt when we get there!” She wrinkled her brow and peered at Raphael. “Wait, why were you in jail?”

“I was betrayed by people I trusted,” he said.

Narina’s gaze goggled between the two of them, her eyes much too shrewd for her tender years. “Then you need better friends, Saint.”

He laughed and stood. “That is probably true.”

They both watched as she skipped across the dock to natter with the crew of the new ship who were loading fresh supplies into rowboats. She started talking animatedly to the young man Raphael had been conversing with.

“Who is he?” she asked. “He looks familiar.”

Raphael’s brows lifted. “You wouldn’t know him. He’s the disowned son of an English peer. Thorin Alford, a trusted friend.”

“His father is the Duke of Remington,” she murmured without thinking and then froze at what that tidbit implied—familiarity with the aristocracy. She bit the inside of her cheek hard and wanted to kick herself. “I read in the gossip rags that he disappeared years ago. It’s a unique name.”

“It is,” he said, but to her relief, he didn’t say anything further. Perhaps he’d accepted her frail reasoning. With him, she never knew. He let out a small noise of amusement. “Narina has charmed him already, it seems.”

Sure enough, the girl had him bending down and letting her wear his hat. Lisbeth laughed. “I swear, after years on the sea in constant mortal danger, it’s that child who will be the death of me.”

“She’s a handful, but she’s got a good heart,” he said.

Lisbeth nodded, a thick knot forming in her throat. “She needs to…not be here. To be somewhere safe and normal. To play with children her own age, not…be with people who do what we do. This is no life for a young girl.”

“I have friends in New York,” she heard him say. “They own a shelter house for women and children. She could have a place there.”

Lisbeth swallowed hard. “Is that why we’re going there?”

“One of the reasons, yes.”

What were the others? She felt the weight of his stare, but for the life of her, Lisbeth couldn’t look up to meet his eyes. She did not know what she was going to see reflected there…or what she would feel when she did.

“How is your wound?” she mumbled.

“Itches and pulls on occasion, but I’m alive, thanks to you.”

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