Page 30 of The Worst of Them

Cecily stabbed her needle through the sail. “It’s good for one’s mind to stay occupied.” Steeling herself, she looked at Morgyn and showed her teeth in her best impression of a grin.

Morgyn stared back, eyes unblinking and intent.

Cecily’s stomach curdled. She knew that look. Morgyn was planning something, whether by her own cleverness or some awful bit of information she’d discovered. Did she know about Cecily’s crime? Had Jack said something after all?

She resisted looking in his direction, lest she draw Morgyn’s attention there too.

“I see you cleaning an awful lot,” the prison queen mused. “Jack said it was penance.” A grin. “For cutting his face.”

Cecily held her gaze, breathing evenly. “And?”

Those cunning, dead eyes seemed to glitter. “Were you trying to kill him?”

She swallowed her fear. With Morgyn, a few words could have a dozen meanings and intentions. And while Cecily was so often eager to give in to impulse, it was a concentrated effort to rein her tongue at the risk of saying more than she ought—and giving Morgyn more than whatever she already had.

“Didn’t need to kill him,” Cecily said mildly. “Threats go a long way. Or don’t you remember?”

Morgyn gave a thin smile. “How could I forget how intimidating you always try to be? It was only a few days ago that you last told me you’d like to gut me and couldn’t carry through. Then you botch your attempted murder on the first mate and they didn’t do a thing to you beyond giving you chores.” She moved to pick a fleck of ash off Cecily’s shoulder but ended up pressing it into her shirt. “Lucky, lucky girl.”

Cecily shrugged away from the touch, keeping her disgust from her face. “Didn’t know the articles yet. Weren’t you lurking close enough to hear that day? I could have sworn I felt your evil eye.”

Morgyn didn’t take the bait. She picked at another fleck of ash, and Cecily’s needle almost found its way through her wrist. “What did a lovely man like Jack do to deserve your ire anyway?”

There were more colorful words to describe him other than lovely, many of which Cecily was tempted to lob at Morgyn just now. Unable to help herself, she batted Morgyn’s fingers away. “He was a prick.”

“Because he tried to save you?”

Cecily froze. Morgyn’s smile grew.

“I saw what happened,” Morgyn said, and she settled a tender hand on Cecily’s shoulder. “I suppose I was lurking like you say I was. Really, I thought it was funny—what bad aim you have.” She tsked. “It’s a shame. Most people would adore being saved by a man so handsome.”

Morgyn was goading her. She didn’t know Cecily was a murderer, but rather assumed she was a clumsy little rebel with an aversion to being touched. And because Morgyn had seen Cecily lash out once already, and because it had been with a blade and looked like attempted murder, there was certainly a part of her that knew she could get Cecily to do it again in a way that would earn the captain’s ire.

This was how she would get her revenge—through Copson and his laws.

“Susan was supposed to gut fish today,” Morgyn went on. “I told Jack you might be better at it. At the very least, you could use the practice.”

When Cecily lifted her gaze to Susan, the woman’s eye twitched. A few seconds passed, it twitched again—and for the first time ever, Susan wasn’t shrinking from her gaze.

As though she wasn’t afraid of her.

Shit.

Cecily inhaled slowly, attempting to smother the flames of rage billowing higher. They had done some version of this taunting so many times that it was a wonder how Morgyn still managed to get a rise out of her.

“How kind. Though I was raised around animals, so I’m used to gutting chickens and pigs,” Cecily said pointedly, her words edged. She returned to the sail, doing her best to appear unbothered. “There’s something soothing about the process.”

She had never particularly enjoyed cleaning dead animals, but that was no matter.

“We’ll be happy to give Jack plenty more ideas, if you like,” Morgyn said, inspecting her nails. “He must really enjoy the work you do.”

Cecily stabbed the needle through the canvas, slowly pulled the thread, stabbed it again, and pulled. Behind Morgyn, Jack watched from the quarterdeck, so she smiled at the ladies as though they were all the happiest of friends as she said, “Go to hell.”

Morgyn glanced at Jack. Then she smiled and laughed once. “Lead the way, sweet Ces.”

Cecily continued sewing.

“Why’s he so interested in you anyway?” Morgyn asked. “He wants to know everything. Where you’re from. Why you’re here. Why you’re such an awful little thing.”