Page 162 of Storm over the Caribbean
“Indeed.”
“Oh joy.”
“Don’t worry.” He reached out and patted my shoulder. “At least there is someone by your side who you know will always protect you.”
“Oh, I know!” Bending down, I ruffled Fence’s fur, scratching behind his ears. “You won’t leave me behind, will you? You’ll always be there to protect me. Good boy! Such a good boy!”
“Woof! Woof, woof!”
With another pat, I straightened once again and gave Mr Rikkard Ambrose a bright smile.
“Mr Linton?”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Why. Is. That. Dog. Here?”
I blinked up at him, innocently. “Dog? What dog?”
He gave me a look. One ofthoselooks. “Mr Linton.”
“Oh,thatdog!” I glanced down, eyes widening in most earnest surprise. “I wonder how that got here.”
“So do I, Mr Linton.”
“Ah, well.” I shrugged, and batted my eyelashes at him innocently. It would probably have been more effective if I weren’t still dressed as a fat ship’s cook. “I guess he must have snuck onto the ship to protect me, all on his own. Isn’t he a brave one?”
The look Mr Ambrose gave me in response was not in the least appreciative of dear Fence’s bravery.
“Follow me.” Turning around, he gestured for me to follow. Curious, I followed as he headed to the captain’s cabin.
“Where are we going?”
“We’ll be heading back into civilization soon. I thought you might want to change. Unless you want to step off the gangplank in your I’m-a-pirate attire?”
Wear my pirate outfit on a pier riddled with town guards, navy personnel and potential lynch mob members?
I shuddered. No. No, thank you. I most certainly did not want to do that.
“Do we have anything else to dress in, though?” I questioned. “I didn’t pack anything.”
“Did you forget so soon?” Pulling open the door to the captain’s cabin, he gestured into the interior. “I’m always well-prepared.”
I looked inside—and my jaw dropped. Inside the small room, countless bespoke suits, uniforms and other kinds of brand-new, shiny clothes were stacked on chairs and hanging from hooks on the wall. Clothes that were a hell of a lot cleaner than what I was currently wearing. Most of them didn’t even have bloodstains on them. And…oh my! There was a bucket of water in the corner. Actual, clean water, and soap! A real, honest-to-god bar of soap!
I didn’t even hesitate a second. Diving towards the heavenly bucket, which right now seemed a thousand times more alluring than all the hot baths I had ever taken, I started to divest myself of my clothes in quick succession. I hardly noticed the click asthe door shut behind me. The moment I was rid of the rags that had passed for my clothing, I grabbed the bucket and started splashing the water all over myself, uncaring of the drops that hit the floor.
Aaaahhh…
This was it. This was what I’d been missing all this time!
It wasn’t like I hadn’t had access to water before—but, as a castaway, I didn’t exactly have much leisure time for bathing at the beach. I was far too busy trying to survive. And later, in the pirate camp, I might have had plenty of time, but I also had an audience of several hundred raunchy pirates. Not my thing, thank you very much.
Now, however…
Now, I was completely, blissfully alone, with the cool, refreshing water running over my sweaty limbs as my only companion. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, until all the dirt and grime of several weeks was gone, and my skin once more felt as smooth and fresh as a baby’s bottom.
“Aaah…!” Stretching, I wrapped a towel around my shoulders and snuggled into the soft fabric. “That was liberating.”
