Page 10 of A Prince Among Pirates
“Yer a bit overdressed fer this vessel, lad,” a voice says from behind me.
I spin about, alarmed, and find myself face-to-face with a man who looks not much older than me. His eyes are blue and have a mischievous slant to them, giving him a faint fox-like quality.
“Am I? Shoot, I was sure I had packed the right jacket for the occasion.”
The man laughs, and I am pleasantly surprised to see that he has most of his teeth, with one golden one behind his right canine, and his face is quite gentle on the eyes. He has the sun-kissed tan skin of a man who was once fair but is now bronzed, and his hair is a shade of blond just brassy enough to have been red before the sun bleached the warmth from it. He wears onlybreeches and a shirt, his sleeves rolled up despite the chill in the evening air. “So, yer the new lad.”
“Guilty as charged.”
He grins, and I daresay that glint of gold is alarmingly dashing. I find myself smiling with him.
“Dinnae see many lads likeyouon a ship like this,” he points out rather unnecessarily, his upper lip curling into something like a sneer.
I shrug. “I imagine I’m not so terribly different from you, outside of my station at birth giving me a few more advantages.”
“Bein’ born inta wealth makes ye plenty different,” he corrects sharply. Fair enough—but he doesn’t tell me off, so I suppose I haven’t offended him too badly with my feeble attempt at relating to him. “Name’s Renard.”
He offers his hand, so I reach out to shake it, trying to keep my handshake firm like I’ve seen my father do. “Kit.”
“Kit?”he repeats with a note of incredulity.
“It’s short for Christopher,” I elucidate, not bothering to explain that my full first name is, in fact, two names… because apparently my father couldn’t pick only one. “Kit suits me better.”
Renard lifts a brow and looks me over, still holding on to my hand. “Sure ’bout that? Ye seem a bit… fussy.”
“Thanks,” I grunt.
“How’d ye end up on this old boat,Kit?”
I tug my hand free, which is a little awkward. “I’m wanted for murder,” I say with an air of casual dismissal as I turn to leanagainst the port rail so I might watch the last colors of the sunset.
Renard joins me, staring at me rather than the beautiful view as he leans one elbow on the rail. “That so? Then ye’ll fit right in weth the crew of theDeliverance.”
I can only assume he’s joking, so I laugh—but I have nothing clever to say in response.
“But really, what’s got yer prissy britches onthisship in particular?”
Mywhat?
“Ah, well”—I gesture vaguely to where I assume the port was some hours ago—“it required the least amount of walking down the dock.”
Renard’s expression shifts from indulgent to something I can’t quite place. He stares at me, dumbfounded, and squints his glittering blue eyes in disbelief. “Ye…” Suddenly he bursts into laughter—this time a full belly laugh, like he cannot help himself. “Ye didn’t consider the ship at all? Just… picked the nearest one?”
“A ship is a ship,” I confirm with a little grin. “I was tired of walking. If there hadn’t been space for me, I suppose I would have continued on to the next one.”
“Why…” He stops himself, considering his next words. “All right, fair ’nough. I’ll accept that. Ye look ridiculous ’nough ta be tellin’ the truth.”
A little rude, but all right.
“An’ what made a foppish lad like yerself board a ship ta begin weth?”
“I told you,” I say in earnest. “I’m wanted for murder.” I allow my eyes to narrow a little as I smile mischievously back at him. Who doesn’t enjoy a little harmless flirting?
“Ah, aye.” He nods sarcastically. “Ye seem like a cold-blooded killer indeed. I can see it in those dead eyes of yers.”
He doesn’t believe me, but I won’t let up. I’m enjoying my ridiculous lie and the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. “It’s true, I just have that look about me,” I agree. “I am an absolute menace to society.”
“Now, that I actuallydobelieve,” he says.
