Page 7 of A Prince Among Pirates
“Yes,” he admits—and I can hear amusement in that rich baritone.
The candlelight shimmers across the gold buckle of his belt, the butt of a pistol. I let my eyes rake over the desk, where I can now see more than just papers. A cup with ivory dice sits just under the candelabra, beside a magnifying glass with a tusk fora handle. A string of shark teeth hangs from one of the arms of the candelabra, brushing against a map with a compass weighing it down.
“You didn’t answer my question,” the captain says. His voice has moved behind me now. I turn to face his silhouette in the kaleidoscope of colors from the stained-glass door, alarmed by how silently he was able to move. I think he is trying to intimidate me, but I am struggling to keep from smiling at this dramatic charade.
“Does the sea call to you?” he asks, stepping closer to me. I think I could listen to him speak all day. His accent is slight, almost like he’s worked to cover it up. Which wouldn’t surprise me—it’s a common practice in England for children to be schooled in their accents. Or perhaps he spent a great deal of his youth traveling and picked up on more than one accent in that time—quite likely for a sailor. “Or… are you running from something?”
At first I could have sworn he was an Englishman. But he occasionally pronounces his vowels almost like an Irishman, elongating them. His consonants are sharp, or sometimes dropped altogether—yet at the same time, he enunciates letters I would leave silent. I’ve never heard an accent like his.
I can see him in the orange glow from the candles. He is close enough that the candlelight rivals the faded sun streaming through the stained glass. His skin is the rich brown of beach sand as the evening tide rolls out, and his hair is twisted into purposeful locs, pulled loosely back from his handsome face andfalling over his shoulders. He has a short beard that spreads across his strong jaw, with just a bit of silver streaking through it. There are beads woven into his hair—though some of them look more like shark teeth than ivory.
All at once I am charmed by his attempts to intimidate me with theatrics. A pretty face truly can fix anything. Had he been old and unpleasant in appearance, I am ashamed to admit that I would have laughed at him. Instead I smile slowly and narrow my eyes a little.
“I have a taste for adventure,” I answer. “I want to explore the world before I have to settle down into the boring inevitability of married life.”
The captain chuckles and moves across the room. My gaze follows the sound of his heels, and then, with a rustle of fabric, the room is flooded with light. I squint against it. While my eyes adjust, I watch the captain as he ties back a second curtain. Then I use this opportunity to take in his quarters.
They are richly decorated, with a bed far more luxurious than one might expect on a ship, heavy velvet curtains drawn back on either side. In the center of the room is a settee with a black woven coat draped across the back and a tea table that might once have been beautiful but is now nicked and scratched, and covered in an alarming array of weapons.
“This is not a pleasure barge,” the captain explains as he returns to my side. “You’ll have to earn your keep on this ship.”
That pulls me out of my musings, and I turn to the captain with brows raised and eyes wide. I stare at him long enoughto assess that he is not having another jest, and chuckle. “That’s unfortunate,” I say. “For I am dreadfully allergic to exertion.”
The captain smirks, and I swear I hear a subtle puff of laughter. (Who can blame him? Iamexceedingly charming.) “If it’s adventure you’re after, I doubt you’ll find another ship better suited to that purpose.”
I cannot tell whether he is trying to convince me to stay or go. Or perhaps he does not care either way. His gaze moves over me, and I find myself standing taller as he takes my measure, which is a bit pathetic.
“I wouldn’t put someone like you in too physically demanding a position,” he continues, his full lips pulling back into a smile at my expense. “And I could hardly put you into the rigging. You’d fall to your death immediately—and that would leave me a man down.”
“Charming,” I mutter.
“Can you read and write?”
I blink, and my brow twitches. Is hetryingto insult me? “Of course.”
“And do sums?”
“I was educated at Eton,” I say carefully. I am intrigued now. Working, dreadful and base as it sounds, might actually bring some amusement to my days while on board.
“How is your arithmetic, then?” the captain asks, stepping past me now and moving around me in a half circle.
I don’t give him the satisfaction of turning to watch him. Instead I smirk and stare ahead. “Oh, quite excellent,” I say. “It’sespecially easy for me, as I’ve all my fingers and toes. You’ll have to promise to protect my digits so I can continue to count efficiently.”
He laughs, which is fortunate. My father has warned me on more than one occasion that my mouth will get me killed someday. At least the captain, for what it’s worth, seems to be somewhat endeared by my flagrant insubordination.
“How fortuitous,” he says, a smile in his voice. “I am in need of someone to handle my ledger. The man who previously filled that position…” He hesitates, and I cannot help but turn to read his expression. “Left.”
I mislike the way he paused to consider his words, but his face is impassive. I am nothing if not a lover of beautiful things, and this man is beautiful indeed. A few hours a day doing sums in exchange for escape, adventure, and a chance to occasionally admire him in the sun and wind is something I could put up with.
I grin up at him. “So long as these hands stay soft and intact,” I say, holding them up, “you have yourself a deal, Captain.”
“Hmm. What’s your name, lost little cat?” the captain asks as he pulls out the chair at his desk and drops into it gracelessly.
I clear my throat and clench my teeth. Shit—I hadn’t thought about that. Well, I can’t give my real name. That will lead to one of two things: being dragged back to my father for a reward, or beingransomedto my father and possibly killed once the sum is paid.
I decide I needn’t give my full name. “Kit,” I say at last.
If the captain is suspicious of the delay, he is instantly distracted by his own amusement. “Is that so?”
