For just a moment, before she went to check on Marcus, she let Erik see the veiled challenge in her eyes.
It would be a long voyage. With no privacy, there was also no danger that either of them would get carried away. And few people were more qualified than Toinette to play with fire.
Five
“The ropes need tarring,” Toinette was saying to Marcus, “especially toward the bow. The spray’s been eating into them in no small way.”
Erik stopped to listen as he came up on deck with a loaf of bread in one hand and a wineskin in the other. He couldn’t have said why he listened—since none of the duties were his, there was no need—save for the pleasure of hearing Toinette speak with utter assurance. He’d always found a certain beauty in watching tasks performed by those who were skilled at them, even when they didn’t possess Toinette’s other charms.
She was standing at the wheel once more, talking to Marcus, with a few of the men nearby. “There’s a bit of the deck there”—she gestured—“needs sanding and oiling. Keep a close eye for woodworm. Otherwise”—a shrug—“the wind’s fair, and we’ll make a good distance before sunset, God willing.”
Marcus took a few of the men off, nodding to Erik in passing. Gervase and a towheaded man with a sharp chin went to fetch a bucket of sand, and only then did Toinette glance in Erik’s direction. “If you’re looking for duties,” she said with a playful smile, “I can likely think of a few. You might even enjoy them.”
Her voice didn’t make it entirely clear what those duties would be, but had hint enough to warm Erik’s blood. If there’d been privacy, he would have investigated further; he’d have wagered a great deal that Toinette knew as much.
Teasing wench. When they returned to Bordeaux, Erik vowed silently, he’d see how far she would follow through on her suggestions.
For the moment, he contented himself with saying, “I’m sure I’d rejoice in any command you gave me,” and letting their eyes meet for a few fraught heartbeats before adding, “by way of making up for the hardship I’m causing you and your men.”
“There’s hardship and hardship, isn’t there?” Gervase said from the patch of deck nearby.
As Erik had seen on land, Toinette let her men speak freely, but he flattered himself he saw a flash of irritation cross her face at the interruption. She stifled it well, though, and only asked, “How do you mean?”
“Well, this voyage we’re on, it’s the Atlantic, and it’s further north than I’d like, and we don’t know the route exactly, no?”
“Aye,” said Erik.
The tow-haired man grunted a “Hunh,” which Erik took for displeased agreement.
“Dangerous,” said Gervase, giving his companion no attention. “But so too are the winds off Tyre, and storms anywhere, and men always. Three times I’ve fought pirates. I lost a good friend and three toes. Then on land there’s war, plague, bad meat, brigands, women—so I say to myself, Gervase, you have the span of years the good Lord gave you, and you know not what that will be, no more than does any man. Best to spend them more eventfully than in taking salt fish from Calais to Dover and back.”
Erik nodded. “‘The coward believes he will ever live if he keep him safe from strife, but old age leaves him not long in peace, though spears may spare his life.’”
“Yes, just so! Your words?”
“No, I’m no poet. A saying of my grandmother’s people. Translated, more or less.”
The other sailor glanced up at Erik from under lowered brows. “A Norseman as well as a Scot, then?” he asked in an English accent. “My lord?”
It wasn’t quite sarcastic, but skirted around the edge. Toinette’s lips went thin. “TheHawkbears a French charter, John,” she said. “You’d do well to keep that in mind, if we’re suddenly minding kings and nations.”
“Captain,” said John, and bent his head back to his work.
“Don’t mind him,” said Gervase. His hands made quick circles as he talked; he worked without looking, a man for whom it was second nature. “You should be bled a week into every voyage, John. It’d improve your temper considerably.”
“For two pence, I’ll improveyours,” said John, but the threat sounded almost genial, and he looked at Gervase without any of the resentment he’d shown Erik.
“No improving perfection. You’re only jealous thatIknow I’ll not drown.”
“Not drown?” Erik asked, both curious and eager to turn the conversation from his allegiance.
“The earring,” said Toinette, and gestured. “Tales say it’s the best protection a man can have, unless he can lay his hands on a caul.”
“And I keep saying you should have a pair, Captain,” said Gervase.
“One day I might. Meantime, I can take care of myself,” she said, and gave Erik another grin before turning back to the ocean and adding, under her voice, “in all the ways I want to.”
* * *
