She took the last step from the companionway to the gun deck, and faltered. Three familiar men stood before her, their gazes blazing with both hatred and desire. It was the men who’d attempted an attack on her a sennight prior.
“Look ’oo it is, boys,” sneered the man she’d stabbed. He was evidently healed and back to work. “Alone at last.”
Heather’s stomach flipped, but she straightened her spine, her notebook clasped firmly beneath one arm as she palmed her dirk in the other.
“We should grab ’er, an’ make ’er pay fer stabbin’ ye, eh wot?” another returned.
The healed man took a step forward, his eyebrow lifting when he caught sight of the dirk clutched in her hand. “We’ve ’eard ye screamin’ yer pleasure fer th’ cap’n. Why not let us show ye how well we can?—”
“Say one more word, and I’ll gut you,” Heather warned. “And this time, you shan’t heal from it.”
With a wary glance at her weapon, the three men withdrew.
It was a disappointment that she couldn’t win the good favour and loyalty of the crew without also giving them leave of her body. Such was fine, she supposed, as she would be free of them soon. But knowing that they hadheardher… A shiver raced down her spine.
Pressing the latch to the captain’s cabin, she opened the door and hurried into the darkness. She set her mother’s notebook upon the table and went to her plants. They were flourishing in these conditions—bright sunlight for part of the day and plenty of fresh water when they required it.
She glanced out the window and saw naught but her moonlit reflection. The time had gotten away from her while she visited Duncan. It was growing late.
“How are you, darlings?” she asked her plants, crouching beside the little clump of roped-together pots.
She touched the leaves and tested the soil with her fingertips, then hummed. Some were too dry. “You’re thirsty today. I shall get you some water.”
Her mind worked as she looked after her plants. If they were to soon reach a pirate port, she didn’t trust the men left aboard to not touch her things. And while they mightn’t be interested in her plants, they would no doubt findmuchof interest hidden within the pages of her mother’s journal. The thought made her uneasy.
All at once, an idea formulated in her mind, and she set about gathering the pilfered documents and various items for sewing. Mayhap it was ill-advised, but in that moment, it felt like the correct course.
She sat at the grand table and removed a boot, angling herself toward the wall of windows so she could see in the milky darkness. With careful precision, she used her dirk to open the inner lining of the cuff. It took a few minutes of squintingand some cautious knife work to cut a section of stitches wide enough, but soon she was able to slip the folded documents inside. All that was left was to close the seam neatly enough that no one would notice anything amiss if her boots were somehow examined.
CHAPTER 16
One more night. Percy’s hands balled into fists at his side as he surveyed the crew through the growing darkness. On the morrow, they would reach theGolfo Mexicanoand their port at San Luis. While he and Heather would still share each other’s company on the journey home, they would by no means have the privacy of the captain’s quarters. They were not even guaranteed a sodding officer’s cabin. And that meant one more night alone with Heather, ensconced in their cabin.
There was no way to know how they would travel on the journey back to England, but one thing was certain: he couldn’t lose what he’d developed with Heather. With every storm, discussion, meal, sparring session, and certainly every fuck, a part of him grew more attached to her presence.
It would be sodding difficult to let her go once they reached England. But the devil knew he must.
As though manifesting from his thoughts, Heather appeared at the quarterdeck’s companionway and sauntered toward him.
“Good evening,” he said as she neared.
“Good evening toyou.” She grinned at him, her gaze dipping to the opened neck of his greying shirt, then down to his tight black breeches, and back up.
Hell, but it put fire in his blood when she looked at him like that. And he’d had her only hours before.
To his relief, she turned to stand at his side and observed the crew with him. She cast a wary glance at the lanterns swaying with the ship’s movements and shifted closer.
“I haven’t been on the quarterdeck on a clear night,” she noted. “How do you see?”
He followed her gaze into the obscurity beyond the bulwark. It was black as pitch, the lights from the lanterns doing nothing to minimize the darkness past the quarterdeck.
“It’s like we’re stationary,” Heather whispered. “Floating in nothingness.”
Percy nodded. “It is. It can be disorienting.”
They stood thusly for countless moments while the pirates continued with their duties around them. The sea was calm, the air warm and filled with the salty scent of the sea. And flowers and earth.Christ, but the woman beside him always managed to fill his senses with her intoxicating love for plants. It was…disarming.
She gasped, and he blinked, returning to the moment. The light dusting of clouds above them parted to reveal a sky swathed in condensed waves of tiny stars. He’d seen the sight countless times in his life, but this view wasn’t available in London, where the air was thick with coal smoke. When was the last time Heather had been to the English countryside and had seen the sky beyond London’s chimneys?
