“You nearly got yourself killed and by your own admission, you are newly arrived. Despite your size you aren’t very menacing.” The boy shrugged. “And you’re half blind.”
“Yes.” Nick waved to the eye-patch. “I suppose they thought I’d be an easy mark.”
“And the fact you didn’t even try to fight back.” The patrician voice mocked him. “Man as big as you and no weapon? Not even a knife? I thought all you London dandies kept at least a small pistol up your sleeve.”
Not in the whole of his life had Nickeverbeen accused of being a dandy. Ever.
“Good thing I came along. Saved you. Else you'd be dead. I don’t suppose your patroness would appreciate that?”
His rescuer’s smug attitude started to grate on Nick’s nerves, though he wasn’t about to correct it. “Indeed. I am in your debt. You saved me,” Nick said softly. He bowed low as if meeting royalty. “Nick Shepherd, lately of London, at your service.”
“Well, Nick Shepherd, lately of London. Take my advice and take the next ship right back to England where you’ll be more at home. I might not be around the next time you find yourself in trouble.” The words were tinged with dislike and scorn.
Interesting. Usually one had to know Nick for at least an hour before a negative opinion was formed. He thought his savior’s quick assessment to be totally unfair. “Indeed, I am quite terrified to view the island without you by my side,” Nick said, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “I quiver with fear at the mere thought.”
The figure before him stiffened. “You are quite ungrateful.”
“Quite,” Nick agreed with a shrug before leaning back against the wall of the Green Parrot. He pulled a cheroot from his pocket and lit it, tossing the match down on the ground where it landed at his savior’s well-booted feet.
“Well, it's been delightful getting to know you,” Nick said into the late afternoon air, pretending to be totally immersed in his cheroot. “I shall be sure to call out for you if I am in need of assistance. Whatisthe name of mysavior?”He was determined to goad the figure before him. “I shall include you in my prayers."
“Jem.” The name came out choked and angry. “Though I sincerely doubt you pray, Mr. Shepherd.”
“Jem? An interesting name. Short for Jeremiah?”
“Truly,” the voice tightened. “I should have let them shoot you.” The brim of the hat shook in agitation. “I wish Ihadlet them shoot you.” The pistol was uncocked and tucked into the waistband. “And by the way, if you recall, the Cyclops ended up blinded and his brother dead.”
Nick bit the end of his cheroot. “I see you know your Greek myths, Jem. How did you come by such an education in the wilds of Bermuda?”
The loose curl danced in the soft breeze and bounced against the boy’s shoulder. “Good day to you Mr. Shepherd. Have a care for your favorite coat. Your charming personality will no doubt cause you to pawn those buttons for food within a fortnight, if you don’t get killed first.”
Nick opened his mouth to reply, but at that very moment a group of drunken sailors burst into the alley. The sailors were singing a delightful tune about mermaids as they stumbled about in the dirt. Nick stepped aside quickly to let them pass and dropped his cheroot in the process. He straightened after picking it up, only to find that his savior had fled and quietly melted back into the mangrove swap.
2
“Dear God, Mercy. I wish to actually breathe tonight.” Jane Emily Manning grasped the solid mahogany post of the bed and felt wood bite into her fingers. She held on for dear life as her maid pulled the stays of her corset tight.
“Miss Jemma,” Mercy used her childhood nickname, “if I don't pull, you won't fit into your gown. Don't you want Mr. Augustus to think you beautiful? You have to—”
“Yes, of course," Jemma cut her off. “By all means we should make sure that I am properly coiffed—” She winced as the stays cut into her waist. “For Augie's sake. Though I imagine he would prefer that I don’t faint into the fish course.”
Mercy frowned, her coffee colored skin wrinkling across her broad brow, giving her the appearance of a worried tortoise. “You're not too old for me to put over my knee, missy.” The maid gave one final tug, grunting in satisfaction as she nearly pulled Jemma off her feet. "Mr. Augie is agoodman. He’s handsome and has nice manners. He’s the son of the Governor.” Mercy tied off the stays. “And he’s mad in love with you.”
“Mad in love with me? Mad in love with Sea Cliff,” Jemma muttered under her breath, referring to her home.
Mercy strode over to the dressmaker's model where Jemma's gown hung and tossed the layers of frothy, cream colored taffeta over a muscular arm. “Most women would kill to have a man like Mr. Augie. Every girl on the island wishes he were courtingher. So what if he loves Sea Cliff as much as you? It’s gonna be his when you marry. You don’t want him to sell it like Joanna Parson’s husband did. Now that was a bit of a shock to us all. She married a fortune hunter and no sooner did they wed than he sold her inheritance and took her to London.”
“I remember.”
“Well, Mr. Augie won’t never sell Sea Cliff. He won’t leave Bermuda. He’s not some man coming here to make his fortune.”
Not like Mr. Shepherd.Mercy’s words conjured up the image of the large, dark man with the eye-patch, bringing to mind their meeting of little more than a week ago.Hecertainly was just another gentleman hoping to make his fortune in Bermuda by wedding an heiress. Bermuda, situated amongst multiple trade routes, bred wealthy merchants by the dozens. The islands were also a major source of salt for the British Empire. Jemma’s father himself owned several salt operations. The island saw a fresh crop of fortune hunters every year or so. A well connected man could marry his wealth rather than work for it.
“I suppose that’s true.” But Mr. Shepherd hadn’t struck her as the typical fortune hunter either. She obediently stood, arms out, to step into her gown.
Mercy gave a snort. “Itistrue. Besides, I don’t know any other man that allows his betrothed to run around in breeches shooting skinks.”
“Future betrothed.” Jemma frowned. What else was she supposed to use for target practice if not the large lizards that dotted the island?
