Page 57 of The Worst of Them

“I’ve missed hearing such marvelous compliments in your pretty accent,” she laughed, her low voice resonant. She gave him a light punch in the arm and nodded to Frederick. “Why don’t you say things like that?”

“I tell you the exact same things,” Frederick said. “I just don’t sound like the bloody king of England.”

Maria noticed Cecily then. “Who’s this?”

The others looked at her—save for Jack, who faced his friends.

Frederick smirked and said, “Flavor of the week, Jack?”

They all burst into laughter. Cecily’s lips parted on a silent gasp, her cheeks flaming.

Did his friends think he was using her for fun too? Did they know he was capable of it, and did they find it funny?

Shame ran cold fingers down her back. Sixteen hundred harlots in Tortuga, plus one idiot girl who’d lost all sense in less than two weeks because of a pirate with a handsome face and a sword.

Jack was the only one, aside from herself, who didn’t seem amused. “That’s Cecily,” he said boredly. “Be careful. She cuts.”

“Ooh.” Maria examined Jack’s scar. “Do you know from experience?”

“Unfortunately.”

Maria turned to Cecily, impressed. “No one’s gotten that close to Jack in ages.”

“She’s my friend,” Hester announced proudly. “From prison.”

Fay, who’d been glancing between Jack and Cecily with a deepening frown, suddenly brightened. “What were you in for?”

“Murder,” Cecily said, her voice reedy and weak.

“I thought they hung those,” Maria said.

“Oh, no one would dare,” Hester said, like Cecily was some sort of exciting, legendary creature.

And oh, how she wished she could summon the strength of one, especially as Jack gave a heavy sigh that sounded like, If only. Though the others were eager to laugh and jest, she didn’t think the pirate heir was attempting to be funny.

To his friends, he asked, “Did you all get kicked out of the inn already?”

Bottles and flasks started appearing from pockets and the flaps of their coats as they insisted they didn’t need to be served by a barmaid in order to drink. A beach would be perfectly fine, they said—preferable, even, regardless of whether they were kicked out, which they most definitely had been.

Meanwhile, Hester moved to Cecily’s side. “Are you alright?” she whispered. “You look awful.”

“I’m—” Cecily stopped short of giving the same kind of offhanded assurance she always threw at Hester. Today, she couldn’t seem to embrace her usual lies—not in a way that would convince her friend. So for once, she gave Hester bald honesty with no pretense of strength or fangs or thorns. “No,” she said, the word barely a breath. “I’m not.”

Hester frowned. “What happened with Jack?”

Cecily shook her head. “Not here.”

Instead of pushing, Hester gathered Cecily into her arms and said, “I think you’ll like Fay and Maria.”

It didn’t take long for Cecily to decide Hester was right.

The group set off down a thin trail through the woods. The men led the way, their banter echoing off the trees as they knocked each other off the path with hearty shoves. Jack’s voice trailed back to her, torturously happy as though he hadn’t threatened to gut her only minutes ago.

Her heart thundered in her ears, cursing her as a fool, fool, fool.

Fay and Maria slowed, allowing Hester and Cecily to catch up. Just before they did, Fay whispered to Maria, “We shouldn’t kiss Jack.” At Maria’s questioning look, she said, “Cecily’s English. They don’t do that in England.”

Cecily stiffened. Had she been obvious? Could they tell how she felt? She schooled her features, hoping to appear expressionless.