Page 16 of The Pirate's Daughter

“I think I should wait until all their filth has settled down and the water clears again.” The three small freshwater pools at the back of the mango grove were fed by an underground spring and the water washed out through the groves. It was probably already clear. “Must we return to the shipsoon?”

“No, not at all.” Devin looked around. “This cove saved a great amount of time. The barrels are full and back on board, and there is a good store of fruits in thegalley.”

“You didn’t let them strip the groves did you? A number of pleasure craft stop here for the same.” Mia didn’t think it wise to say so did a number of ships less welcomed in ports. Not all merchant ships sailed completely aboveboards.

“No Mia, we were conservative in what we took. We didn’t need a lot. Just some treats until we do make port.” He turned and smiled down at her and Mia felt a rush of heat. “As I was saying, we need not rush back. I think the hog will get roasted here then taken back. Cook will want the bones for soup. Was there something you wanted to do while here?” Her eyes went straight to the tops of the cliffs. “No, Mia. You won’t be jumping. Am Iunderstood?”

It wasn’t what she’d been thinking. “Devin, it’s fun. It’s like flying. Please. Try it with me.” She moved to stand before him and taking his hand, she tugged. “We can jump in, swim back to the ship and you can—consider me again,” Mia said softly and smiled up at him. Vixen Voydeoux told her once a woman could use her body to make a man comply. Her papa laughed but hadn’t disagreed, only warned her to wait for a husband to try. It was instantly plain to see Vixenlied.

Devin’s face hardened and coldness filled his eyes. When she tried to pull back he snagged her wrist and turned it behind her back. “You listen carefully, Mia,” he started, “we’ll not play these games. You won’t use our marriage bed to manipulate me. I’ll gladly give you what I’m able to when you deserve it. I’ll provide for you without hesitation. But when I say no, I mean no. And should you choose to mutiny over it, you’ll be bent over and soundly,properlyspanked. Offering or denying your body won’t gain you compliance from me. It will, however, earn you the same as any mutiny—a very red and sore stern. Do you understand what I’vesaid?”

“Aye, Captain,” she said, then dropped her head so he didn’t see the tears welling. He could scold worse thanPapa.

“I’m not saying this to be harsh with you, Mia.” He tried to lift her chin. She moved her head so he couldn’t. “Mia.” Again, he tried to force her head up. “Mia, look at me.” Hewaited.

She knew he’d not finish until she did, and she’d not be able to get away until he finished. She lifted herhead.

He put his hand under her chin and lifted more. “I’m not saying this to be harsh. But I suspect, unlike you, I’ve seen more wreckage done in marriages when the bed is used as weapon. It should be neutral ground, an accord of equality, articles of honesty, peace, and of course pleasure.” His knuckles lifted and brushed down her cheek. “I don’t want to see us crashed into the rocks or sunk below thewaves.”

“Lots of people jump from the cliffs,” she mumbled, “I didn’t…” She stopped because she did try to use herbody.

“Mia,” the warning in his tone made the skin on her ass prickle up. “Did you hearme?”

“Aye,Captain.”

“Do youunderstand?”

“Aye,Captain.”

“I’m sure, Mia mine, you’re going to find more than enough ways to turn my hair grey that you needn’t resort to plunging off cliffs.” Mia looked up sharply to see him staring up at those very cliffs. “It was enough to stop my heart seeing you lean over the rail thismorning”

“I’m not a guppy,” Mia said and stomped her foot to make thepoint.

“I don’t know what that is, but I know if you stomp your foot at me again, you’ll besorry.”

“It’s a little, useless fish, only good to look at because it’s pretty.” She heard him chuckle. “Can’t even eatit.”

“No, then you’re certainly not a guppy, because I can eatyou.”

What a strange thing for him tosay.

“No matter, you’ll not be jumping from thecliffs.”

“Mrs. Winthrop,” the man who Mia forgot was collecting oysters stumbled up on the shore wiping water from his face. “You were right.” He dragged the net from the surf, held it up, then had to drop it for its weight. “And I only took the largestones.”

“That’s a good haul,” Devin said, pulling a knife from his belt as the sailor handed him two of the mollusks. He made quick work of shucking both then tried to hand herone.

She shook her head. Maybe if she’d not been scolded a minuteago.

“No? All right, later,” he said then tipped one to his lips and slurped it in. “They’re good.” He handed the other to the man who worked to get them. “Get them back on board while they’re still fresh. Come, Mrs. Winthrop,” he said reaching for her hand. “I’ll take you towash.”

“I’ll go by myself,” Mia said snatching back her hand. Why did he want to come anyway? Probably to scold her more. And she didn’t need that. Why was he so damn hard to please? He was so contradictory with giving his approval of her then voicing his disapproval a moment later. She couldn’t feel more off balance if she was in a typhoon. She bent and snatched up her basket and walked away from him. She pushed through the tangled tree roots and crossed the grove. Why did he want her to be useless, weak? He was a captain. He should know weak people succumb to the sea. He should be satisfied to have a wife as capable as she, and not tell her he thought her so stupid as to tip overboard with only a little chop in thewater.

Testing a few of the sun-drenched rocks around the pond, she found one warm enough and taking out the small metal tin opened the lid and set it out. The dress she wore today was her most simple kind of frock. When she knew she’d not get away with wearing pants she’d wear this. She could don and remove it without any help and it was loose enough she could conceal those forbidden britches. Today she had only her shift on beneath. Slipping from the gown, she tossed it to the warm rocks and sat to remove hershoes.

The basket held a roll of collected strips of sack cloth from which Mia unwound more than a dozen. Reaching for the tin she settled in bent her right knee and rubbed the slightly gritty unguent down her leg then quickly lay a strip over the concoction. She smeared a second line and as soon as the strip was down she pulled the first strip up. She wasn’t as proficient at the process as Azadeh, who when teaching Mia how it was done, could do one entire leg before Mia had three strips on and off. But she didn’t think she’d be getting back to the Persian Sea soon to have the beautiful woman help her pamper her body. How she did miss the warm oils rubbed in after all her body hair wasgone.

Mia was stunned to learn women in the west didn’t follow the practice. Skin was so much more sensitive to every touch. Silk, post depilation, was like a warm breath. Fleece felt like an embrace. More importantly, lice and fleas stayed away and washing took less water, which on a ship was critical. Pulling the last strip from her right leg she set to work on herleft.

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