“Oh! Yes, it’s Georgie.”
He nodded. “That will be Artie with my trunks. You can empty them while I pick through this cold fare.”
“Would you like me to have it heated, Captain?”
He heard the hopeful note which betrayed her eagerness to leave the room, but he wasn’t letting her out of his sight until theMaiden Anneleft England’s shores behind. If she had any degree of intelligence at all, she had to know her risk of discovery was increased by their previous meeting, that even though he didn’t appear to remember her now, he could at any time. In light of that, she was likely considering the alternative of abandoning ship before it was too late to do so, even if she had to swim to shore—if she could swim. He wasn’t going to give her that option.
“The food will suffice. I haven’t much appetite yet, at any rate.” And when she continued to just stand where he’d left her, he added, “The door, dear boy. It won’t open by itself.”
He noted the pursed lips as she marched to the door. She didn’t like being prodded. Or was it his dry tone she objected to? He also noted the authoritative way she directed the cantankerous Artie in the placing of the trunks, earning a sour look from the sailor that abruptly changed her manner back to the meekness of a young lad.
James almost laughed aloud, until he realized the wench was going to have a problem with her temper if she forgot who she was supposed to be each time it sparked. The crew wouldn’t put up with such haughty airs from a supposed youngun. But short of announcing that the boy was under his personal protection, which would have the new members of his crew snickering behind his back, the old ones looking at the lad more closely, and Connie rolling on the deck in laughter, James would just have to keep a close eye on Georgie MacDonell himself. But that would be no hardship. She really was quite adorable in her lad’s togs.
The woolen cap he remembered still hid all her hair from him, though the sable brows indicated her hair would be dark, perhaps the rich brown of her eyes. There were no suspicious lumps under the cap, so either her hair had not been very long to begin with, or she had sheered it off for her disguise, which he sincerely hoped not.
The white tunic was long-sleeved and high-necked, and fell nearly mid-thigh, which effectively hid her cute derriere. He tried to figure out what she’d done with her breasts and, for that matter, the tiny waist he remembered holding. The tunic wasn’t bulky but fit narrowly on her frame, giving her straight lines that a wide belt bore testimony to. If there were bumps to be seen, they remained concealed under the short vest worn over the tunic.
Now that was a piece of ingenious clothing ideal for her purposes. Thick with fleece on one side, hard leather on the other, the vest lay on her like a steel cage, so stiff it wouldn’t flap open even in a strong wind. Untied, it showed only about three inches of her tunic down the front, three inches of flat chest and flat belly.
The tunic hid the rest until her buff-colored knee breeches began. They ended just below the knee, where thick woolen stockings disguised the slimness of her calves. Being neither too loose nor too tight, they made shapely limbs look like perfectly normal boy’s legs instead.
He watched her silently as she meticulously went through each item in his trunks and found a place for it either in the highboy or in the cabinet-converted-wardrobe. Johnny, his previous cabin boy, would have taken armfuls of clothing and just dumped them in the nearest drawer. James had yelled at him enough times for doing just that. But his little Georgie gave herself away with her feminine neatness. He doubted she realized that, doubted she knew any other way to do it. But how long would her disguise last with little blunders like that?
He tried to see her as anyone unaware of her secret would see her. It wasn’t easy because hedidknow what was under those clothes. But if he didn’t know…By God, it wouldn’t bethateasy to guess. It was her size, really, that pulled it off. Connie was right, she really was a tiny thing, no bigger than a ten-year-old, though she had given her age as twelve. Hell and fire, she wasn’ttooyoung for him, was she? He couldn’t very well ask her. No, he couldn’t believe that she was, not with what he had felt that night in the tavern, not with that luscious mouth and those soul-sucking eyes. She might be young, but not too young.
She dropped the lid on the second empty trunk and glanced his way. “Should I cart these out, Captain?”
The grin came despite himself. “I doubt you can, dear boy, so don’t bother to strain those meager muscles. Artie will return for them later.”
“I’m stronger than I look,” she insisted stubbornly.
“Are you indeed? That’s good to know, since you’ll have to be lugging one of those heavy chairs about daily. I usually dine with my first mate in the evenings.”
“Only him?” Her eyes darted to the five chairs about the room, not counting the one he was now sitting in. “Not your other officers?”
“This is not a military ship,” he pointed out. “And I do like my privacy.”
She brightened immediately. “Then I’ll leave you—”
“Not so fast, youngun.” He stopped her on the way to the door. “Where d’you think you’re off to when your duties are only in this cabin?”
“I…well…assumed, that is…you mentioned privacy.”
“My tone of voice, was it? Too sharp for you, lad?”
“Sir?”
“You’re stuttering.”
Her head bowed. “I’m sorry, Captain.”
“None of that, now. You’ll look me in the eye if you’ve something to apologize for, which you don’t…yet. I’m not your father to box your ears or take a strap to you, I’m your captain. So don’t cringe every time I raise my voice or if I’m in a bloody rotten mood and I look at you crossly. Do as you’re told, without question or argument, and you and I will get along just fine. Is that understood?”
“Clearly.”
“Splendid. Then get your arse over here and finish this food for me. Can’t have Mr. O’Shawn thinking I don’t appreciate his efforts, or there’s no telling what I’ll find on my plate next time.” When she started to protest, he forestalled it with, “You look half starved, damn me if you don’t. But we’ll put some meat on those bones before we reach Jamaica. You’ve my word on it.”
Georgina had to fight to keep the frown off her face as she grabbed a chair and dragged it to the table, especially when she saw that he’d barely touched his food. Not that she wasn’t hungry. She was. But how could she eat with him sitting there staring at her? And she had to find Mac, not waste precious time here doing nothing more than eating. She had to tell him the startling news of who the captain actually was, before it was too late to do anything about it.
