Page 22 of Her Perfect Pirate
“I only meant to injure,” he answered Davies, “but the man died anyhow.”
“Rebecca meant to kill.She was fierce.It was her or them.Did she tell you about how she seduced the captain away from the men?”
“Yes.”It sounded much better to think that she had seduced the man than to imagine it—as Chow had been doing for days now—as Rebecca trapped in an inescapable situation.
“She was brilliant.”Again, Davies spit into the ocean in a graceful arc.They were nearing theGhostnow, close enough to see Captain Boukman and old de la Cruz in a discussion on the quarterdeck.“She never should have been there, though.No one as green as she should have boarded theWhimsy.”
Chow glanced behind them to see if the other men in the longboat could hear.With the boat empty of prisoners, they had spread out: he and Davies toward the bow, and Fuego and Pip in the stern.Those two were talking between themselves, easy grins on their faces, no idea that Jack Davies was echoing Rebecca right to Chow’s face.
“It was Captain Boukman’s orders,” Chow hissed.“He wouldn’t hear differently.”
“That’s my point.”Davies lifted his eyes again, but this time, it was to where their captain waited, now leaning against the railing, watching them row.“You’ve always been loyal to the captain, Sharkhead, but has the captain been loyal to you?”
Chow didn’t think of loyalty as going in two directions.At Northfield Hall, people were loyal to Lord Preston, based on his integrity in making people welcome and treating them fairly; therefore, he had decided what crops were grown, where their produce was sold, and when everyone was paid.Now Chow’s loyalty was to Captain Boukman, based on his commitment to pirating against slave ships, and so the captain decided where they went, what they did, and who did what.
It had never occurred to Chow that either Lord Preston or Captain Boukman might owe him any loyalty in return.
“You claimed Rebecca, and I have no doubt you did it with the best intentions,” Davies said.“All I’m trying to say is Captain Boukman has it out for her because of it.You’d best think about who you will be loyal to when it comes down to it.”
The words settled ominously in the air as the longboat came within reach of theGhost.Their conversation paused as they negotiated the ropes to hoist them up to the top deck.They were almost on the ship again when Chow asked Davies on the softest breath, “Where do your loyalties lie?”
Davies shook his head.“I don’t trust a man who gives orders to settle grudges, I can tell you that much.”
Which made Davies the second person on the ship to question Captain Boukman’s worthiness aloud.As they climbed off the longboat, greeted by the crew with three cheers, Chow couldn’t help but fear how many more of the pirates felt the same way.
Rebeccadidn’tlikebeingon the ship without Sharkhead.Suddenly she felt like an orphan again, waiting at the almshouse for someone, anyone, to come claim her.She kept glancing over her shoulder to find Sharkhead, only to remember he had deserted her in order to maroon the slave traders.
He hadn’t needed to go.Jack Davies could have handled the drop without Sharkhead’s supervision.Rebecca didn’t know if he had volunteered for the task because he wanted to avoid her or because he sympathized with the prisoners.She didn’t want to know.She didn’t want to care.
They hadn’t said much more than a word to each other since she had snapped at him those few days earlier, and now Rebecca wasn’t sure they ever would.She didn’t want to desert theGhostand certainly didn’t want to return to Rhode Island, where her life would be reduced once more to trading gossip to protect her place in a household.But as time drew her closer to the Azores, neither could Rebecca imagine staying on theGhost.Not if she and Sharkhead remained in this silent battle.One of them would have to go, and Rebecca was afraid it would be her.
She kept an eye on him as he rowed out to the beach.Anything could happen: the prisoners could revolt and drown him with their chains in the bay; a rogue wave could overturn the longboat; he could decide he would rather cast his lot with the slave traders than return to her on theGhost.
They deposited the prisoners.Sharkhead said something to them as the younger pirates rolled the barrel of rum to the safety of some rocks.And then Sharkhead got back in the longboat and started rowing towards her.
Rebecca was aware—as she knotted and unknotted the same line five times—that the anger she felt so deeply in her body had nothing to do with Sharkhead.Hewas not the one who had seen her as a whore.Hewas not the one who had ordered her onto theWhimsy.Nor was he the one who had sent her alone on a ship from Louisiana because it was too dangerous for her to exist in New Orleans.
Her anger was not for him, and yet she couldn’t help but target it at him.Even when he returned to theGhost, instead of telling him she was glad he was back safely, she greeted him with fury.“I hate the name Sharkhead.It’s a terrible nickname.You should never have let anyone call you that.”
She finished tying the knot—for the seventh time—and turned away, casting about for some other task that would carry her far away from him.
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he replied.
“Everything is wrong with it.It makes it sound likeyouhave a shark head, which you don’t.”She couldn’t help glancing up at his head, of which she had grown very fond, and seeing the frown etched into his face.“And it is a terrible story.What were you doing swimming with sharks?Didn’t you know any better?You should be ashamed of it, not boasting about it.”
He stepped close, his body heat overwhelming her, and took the rope right out of her hands.“Come below with me.I need to talk to you.”
All these days, they had been avoiding each other, even sleeping on different watches, as if to be less than a foot apart would ignite the whole ship.Now, Rebecca followed without hesitation.If this conversation ended,thatwould start a fire.If Sharkhead looked away from her, he might as well strand her on the island with the slave-trading sailors.
It was dark below deck.In the aft, Mrs.Adams bleated.Sharkhead led Rebecca into the little alcove of barrels they called their own.
“If you’re thinking to have your way with me, you won’t,” Rebecca said as the space closed in on them.She didn’t know why.There was no chance Sharkhead would force a kiss.He hadn’t even done that when the whole crew was watching.
And she certainly wasn’t afraid of it if he did.
She was being a brat, same as she always had done.It would get her kicked off theGhostas surely as it had gotten her kicked out of Cook’s kitchen at Placid Manor and out of the senator’s son’s heart in Rhode Island.
Sharkhead didn’t react physically at all.But he had heard her: “All I ever wanted to do was protect you, Rebecca.”
