“Loud, smelly, and full of thieves,” Caleb said dryly.
She smiled faintly.To him, this was just another port, another stop in the endless rhythm of his world.But to her, every cobblestone felt like a step back in time, every face a page torn from history.And somewhere in the tangle of streets ahead, danger waited.She could feel it as surely as she felt the heat radiating from the sunbaked walls.
Chapter 12: The Port of Marigot
Surprising, nay, enchanting.That’s the only way Caleb could describe Miss Starr’s reaction to the town.He’d never seen such childlike fervor in anyone walking through a slovenly, uncivilized place.Though she tried to hide it, her wide eyes, tiny gasps, and swiveling head could not be denied.
’Twas like she’d never seen a port town before.
The thought both amused and stunned him.Could this woman truly be from the future?He’d thought her mad at worst, a spy at best, but now…?He huffed, his thoughts drifting to his Aunt Morgan.Didn’t she claim to also have traveled through time?In truth, he hadn’t believed her or his Uncle Rowan, his mother’s brother.The man had always been a bit unorthodox.Still, perhaps Miss Starr was feigning her reaction.But for what purpose?
Nay, not even the best stage actress could enact such a grand performance.
Turning, he mounted the stairs to the last tavern in Marigot.He’d been hoping a reputable boarding house had opened since his last visit, but he’d seen none.Le Chien de Merwould have to do.’Twas less nefarious thanLa Tête de Mortwhich sat nearer the docks.
Miss Starr hesitated, staring at the swinging wooden sign creaking in the wind.A snarling black hound standing proud upon a ship’s deck was painted upon it with the words,Le Chien de Mer, scrawled in bold French script beneath it.
The reek of roasted pork, rum, and pipe smoke spilled from the open windows, along with laughter, curses and the scrape of a fiddle.
Her blue eyes snapped to his.“Where are you taking me?”
“A tavern.An inn.”Caleb touched her arm, hoping to console her.“You need somewhere to stay while the ship is being repaired.”
“But in a bar?”A wrinkle formed between her brows as her chest rose and fell with heightened breaths.
“A bar?”Hmm.He’d not heard that term in reference to a tavern before.“You have my assurance you will be safe.”
A sailor shoved between them, showering them with breath drenched in rum.“Out of me way, ye bloody laggards!”
Miss Starr stumbled backward, and Caleb gripped her arm to steady her.He’d deal with the drunken sailor later.For now, he must convince this frightened lady that there was naught to fear with him by her side.
He gestured toward the door.“At least have a meal with me.You must be hungry.”
She attempted a smile.“Famished.”
After she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, he shoved through the thick oak door and stood in the entryway, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light.Air thick with the sting of spirits, roasted meat, and unwashed men assailed him.
The lady coughed.Her grip tightened on his arm as she took in the surroundings.
Sailors, privateers, and merchants crowded the room, sitting around wooden trestle tables and benches or leaning against a long bar at the back.Behind it, casks of rum, brandy, and ale were stacked almost to the wooden beams above while workers ladled drinks from open kegs into pewter mugs.Tavern maids skittered here and there, hoisting platters of bread, cheese and mugs of foaming ale to the patrons, who greedily received them as they laughed, sang, or played dice or cards.
To Caleb, ’twas a normal sight.But to Miss Starr, from the shocked, frightened, and oddly amused look on her face, they might as well have entered hell itself.
Dozens of eyes locked upon her as if she were Helen of Troy.
Granted, his sister’s gown fit her quite nicely, and the lady had a comely face, but you’d think these men had not seen a woman for years.
This may be harder than he thought.
Through the smoky haze and dim candlelight, Caleb spotted an empty table in the back and headed for it, one arm extended to Miss Starr, the other hand on the hilt of his blade.
He was in no mood for trouble this night, but he could more than handle it should it come.
Releasing the lady, he gripped the back of a chair and pulled it out for her.
She gave him the most unusual look before she lowered to sit.He took the seat across from her, her gaze still wandering about the room, taking in the old fishing net hung across the wooden beams above, the cracked capstan decorating one wall, and the painting of a mermaid hung on the wall beside them.
A tavern maid slithered up to them, her painted eyes latched upon Caleb.“’Ello love, what’ll it be?Rum, ale?The meal tonight is pork stew and cassava bread.”
