Samantha wanted to keep arguing, but several of the men had drawn near with ears conveniently turned their way. She swallowed her pride. “Yes, sir.”
Head held high, she retreated to her cabin. The door slammed behind her with a loud bang and she stalked to the window. Reckless indeed.
She’d turned the tide to win the fight and Griff responded by demoting her. A growl rumbled in the back of her throat and she kicked at a rumpled blanket at her feet. She’d bested Lieutenant Thompson. A feared and hated pirate hunter. No one else could say the same.
Even when she did everything right, it wasn’t good enough.
The sea is no place for a woman.
How many times had she heard those words? They made her skin crawl. Made her want to throw things.
Just because she’d been born the fairer sex, everyone had been loath to give her the chance to prove herself. Even though she’d worked as hard as the other sailors. She’d fought tooth and nail to get her uncle to allow her this practice run. It had taken years of pleading her case, of proving herself capable on the decks, before he took her seriously. Griff called it a game. This was her life.
She strode to the open window with a scowl. Surely, the great lieutenant hadn’t had trouble getting his foot in the door. Everyone worshiped the ground he walked on. One of the youngest lieutenants, they’d entrusted him with a coveted frigate—a ship usually reserved for seasoned officers. With the navy’s real captains off fighting the war in Tripoli, the governor had seen fit to hand the ship to a wealthy Yankee who had yet to earn such status.
Now she really wanted to throw something. She could probably command his ship as well as he could. Maybe even better. But she was a woman. So, no one would let her see that potential.
Her fingers gripped the smooth wood on the windowsill and her vision wavered. Would she ever gain respect? Even if she got her own ship, her own crew, people would still scoff at her. Never mind there had been great female pirates a century before. Had the legendary Caribbean pirate Anne Bonny faced the same disillusionment as she had?
Leaning into the warm night air, she closed her eyes. She’d thought she had it all figured out. Do a good job, gain her uncle’s approval, captain her own ship. Take control of her destiny. Earlier, it had seemed so close. Now, impossibly far away. She’d lost her course. Like a ship with no sails adrift at sea, waiting for help that would never come.
Her eyes jerked open. Being melodramatic wouldn’t solveanything. Still, a heavy weight pressed on her shoulders. On shore, she had no one she could relate to. Even her best friend, Abigail, had no inkling of Samantha’s dreams. On the ship, her crew followed her directions, but she was the boss’s niece. They didn’t have a choice.
God, was she being naive? Did she have any chance at all? Would she ever captain her own ship?
She took a deep breath. No need to get worked up about it. Not until she spoke with her uncle.
Besides, she had a bigger problem.
Arms crossed, she stared out at the silhouette of theFalconas it grew smaller on the horizon. Her hand dipped into her pocket to touch the warm brass there. With a grimace, she pulled the compass free and set it next to her prize conch. It had been a foolish move, to take something of sentimental value from the lieutenant. In the silence of the cabin, her gut twisted as his first officer’s words echoed in her mind.
He’ll make you wish you’d killed him.
Caught up in the thrill of victory, she’d made a grave misstep. Stepping back, she closed the window and leaned her head against it. She’d broken an important rule: Never goad your enemy.
Chapter Three
“Ishould groundyou.”
The words hit Samantha like a punch to the gut.
“Uncle—”
He wagged a finger at her. “You’d cause a lot less damage if I forced you to stay ashore.”
With him gone on a pirating run up north, she’d had a week after returning to Savannah to formulate her argument. Still, she hadn’t expected Uncle Henry to call her into his study immediately after his return. So much for her hopes Griff wouldn’t tell him everything. Samantha opened her mouth. Yet words failed her.
“What were you thinking?”
Taking a deep breath, she recited one of her memorized lines. “I did what was best. If I hadn’t joined the fight, we’d all be locked up in prison, or worse.”
She winced as his chair screeched back. He stood. “And whose fault is it that there was a fight in the first place? You should have known better and stood down. The ledgers were in order, they would have let you go.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not happy we trounced Lieutenant Thompson. Besides, the men were itching for a fight after so many cargo runs.”
Uncle Henry smoothed his grey mustache. “A good captain doesn’t let his crew’s emotions dictate his choices.”
An icy barb pierced Samantha’s heart and she lowered her head.
