Page 27 of Valour

“Does it mean something? The swallow?” She could see he had more than one. A veritable flock. He also had Valour in the face of fear on his arm, not his chest, like Hester. All the crew seemed to have that motto on their arm.

“The swallow marks five thousand miles at sea. You could get one after that crossing,” he said, winking. “Or a King Neptune for your first equator crossing.”

Charlotte bit her lip.

“I’m almost done,” Mei said, wiping a smear of blood and ink away and cocking her head, then bending back over Arnold, dipping the needle in a pot of black ink and poking at the bird’s outline.

“Surely it hurts if you’re bleeding.” Charlotte eyed the bloody cloth Mei was wiping his skin with.

“Well, it can get a bit sore, but it’s not that bad,” Arnold said. “Are you sure you don’t want one? I’ll sit with you while Mei does it.”

Charlotte was tempted to say yes. She chewed more thoroughly on her bottom lip. “But—what will people say?”

“Is that what you’re worried about? Get it somewhere no one will see. A leg, perhaps.”

“My first tattoo was on my upper thigh,” Mei said, sitting back and wiping at the swallow on Arnold’s bicep again. “All done.”

“Be brave, Charlotte. What do you say?” Arnold asked.

Charlotte swallowed. She clenched her fists and nodded once. “On my upper thigh. A swallow. Only small!” Good Lord, was she really going to do this?

Mei smiled and pointed to the chair that Arnold had just vacated. “Take a seat.” She wiped the needle and then held it over a candle flame. Charlotte watched, her hands clasped in her lap, her foot bouncing on the floor. Was this a terrible idea? She thought of what her mother would say if she found out. And that thought spurred her on.

Arnold pulled up a chair to sit beside her, and Charlotte’s eyes widened.

“You’re staying?” she asked, her voice high.

“Would you like me to leave?”

Charlotte’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t want you to see my leg,” she whispered.

“I’ll look away, if you want me to stay.”

She hesitated, but not for long. “Well…alright.” Charlotte rolled up her breeches, and Mei wiped down an area with soap.

“Ready?” Mei asked, needle poised over skin.

Arnold picked up Charlotte’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Ready,” she said.

As Mei started poking the outline of the swallow, Charlotte sucked in a breath through her teeth and gripped Arnold’s hand. “You lied,” she hissed.

His face broke into a bright smile. “Be brave, Boss.”

Hester marvelled at the tenacity of men. How she could spend months planning, and they could waltz in with their privilege and self-confidence. It was galling, to say the least.

They had made good progress on the repairs, but there was still a lot to do. She rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn as she walked across the Valour’s gangplank and made her way below decks to the galley, where the crew were assembled around the table with a red-faced Betty in their midst.

“What’s all this?” Hester asked.

“Guess who got her wicked way with the Intrepid’s engineer?” Fliss crowed, pointing at Betty, clearly delighted that the attention had been taken away from her earlier exploits.

“Betty, you scoundrel!” Hester cried.

Winston appeared at her side and draped an arm over her shoulder. Her nostrils flared as the scent of musky sweat hit her, and she eyed him sidelong. In the absence of Victor, perhaps Winston would do.

“Winston, I need your help with something,” Hester murmured in his ear.