Page 35 of A Prince Among Pirates
“Ye do that,” Renard says as he watches me. “Let me ken when ye do, I’m dyin’ ta ken.”
I take up my quill and the ledger and nod without looking back. I need to find Captain Sharpe and get him to fill in some of these blanks. But first I need to get out of this sun—and out from under Renard’s watchful eye.
“All right there, Kitten?”
No, I am most assuredlynotall right.
I move my arm from my eyes and open them to blink blearily up at Captain Sharpe as he leans over me. Haloed by the orange light of the sunset, he’s more beautiful than ever.
Sunset?
The last thing I remember, I was sitting down on the settee to resume my deep dive into the disreputable misadventures of one Mr. Jeffrey Reuter. How has an entire afternoon passed so quickly? I push myself into a sitting position, and regret washes over me as my head spins and my stomach does a terrible little lurch. I groan and lie back once more.
“Apparently not…,” Captain Sharpe mutters as his shadow crosses over me. I don’t watch where he’s going; I am too focused on not retching all over the rug under the settee.
Then a warm hand cups the back of my neck, and he draws me up into a sitting position once more before I can protest. Moments later there is a cool glass against my lips, and the sweet taste of port flows over my tongue.
Reason dictates that juice or water might be better for sobering me up, but I am not reasonable and this is a pirate ship. I take the glass and drink down more than I should in one gulp, before lowering it with a sigh. “Is it still July the thirty-first?”
Captain Sharpe laughs as he sits beside me on the settee. “Since this morning.”
I frown and turn to him. “Today is my nineteenth birthday.”
He isn’t expecting that. Truly, I hadn’t even meant to say it out loud, but at the moment, I am so grateful for the glass of port in my hand that I might just tell him anything.
“Is it, now?” he asks. He’s too clever to make the mistake of wishing me well.
“Strange, isn’t it?”
“Not that strange.”
“I’m supposed to be married.”
“What… right now?” he asks. I see he’s poured himself a glass as well, and he leans back as he sips from it.
“The day I boarded your ship.”
He chokes a bit and sits upright. “You jilted your bride on her wedding day?”
I nod and don’t even have the good grace to grimace or look ashamed. I’m not ashamed; I still think I did right by her in leaving that day. “She’s better off.”
“I’m sure she is,” Captain Sharpe says. I can tell by the smirk on his face that he isn’t trying to insult me, and I offer him a reluctant laugh in response. “This answers quite a few questions I had about your unusual decision to board my ship.”
“Not all of them, I’m sure.”
“No,” he agrees. “Not all. But many. Well… since you’re drunk already—”
“Nearly sober,” I correct, though he ignores me.
“—and it’s your birthday, we may as well keep drinking and celebrate.”
I’m not opposed; truly, the promise of a few hours of oblivion on the most cursed day of the year is enough to convince me. I take another sip of my wine and set the glass down. “Very well, but if we’re going to drink all night, this time let’s get some food in our bellies first.”
Sharpe laughs and pats me on the back before getting to his feet. “I’ll have something brought up,” he says as he makes his way across the cabin to open the door. I watch as he leans out, shifting his weight until he sees someone. “Trevor, bring up a plate for me.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” I hear Trevor say, then the captain is back inside the cabin, the door shut behind him.
I work loose the knot on my cravat and slide it off, then drop it onto the settee beside me. The room slowly brightens as Captain Sharpe moves around his cabin lighting candles one by one. By the time he returns to the settee, I have slid out of my jacket.
