“’Course she is,” James snapped. “But only because I detained her in my cabin until it was too late for her to do anything foolish. She wasn’t on the deck gawking. She was watching her only opportunity to escape recede into the distance…and prob’ly cursing me to everlasting hell.”
“Well, she isn’t likely to make the mistake again—of getting in the way, that is. A clout on the ear usually serves as a good lesson.”
“But it’s set Tiddles against her. Artie, too, was ready to kick her arse a good one, and would have if I hadn’t been there. You should have heard the imperious way she was ordering him about.”
“You don’t suppose the brat’s a lady, do you?”
James shrugged. “She’s an old hand at directing underlings, whatever she is. Educated, too, or else a great mimicker of her betters.”
Connie’s humor deserted him. “Damn me, that puts a different light on this, Hawke.”
“The devil it does.Ididn’t put her in those breeches. And what the deuce did you think she was? A dockside whore?” Connie’s silence was answer enough, and drew a short bark of laughter from James. “Well, you can stow the chivalry, Connie. It don’t sit well on your shoulders any more than it does on mine. The cunning little baggage can be a bloody princess for all I care, but for the time being, she’s a cabin boy until I say otherwise. It’s a role she gave herself to play, and I mean to let her play it out.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as I can bear it.” And then, watching the Scot release his victim, he added, “Hell and fire, not even a bloody blow! I would’ve—”
“Broken his bones, I know.” Connie sighed. “Appears to me you’re taking this a little too personally.”
“Not at all. No one can hit a woman while I’m around and hope to get away with it.”
“Is that some new sentiment you’ve adopted since we set sail? Now, Jamie lad,” he added placatingly when James turned on him. “Why don’t you save those killing looks for the crew, where they might do some…All right,” he amended with ill grace as James took a step toward him. “I take back every word. So you’re a bloody champion of all womankind.”
“I wouldn’t gothatfar.”
Connie’s humor returned instantly at the appalled look that came over his friend’s face. “Neither would I if you weren’t so blasted touchy today.”
“Touchy? Me? Just because I want to see that woman beater trounced on?”
“I see I must point out the little details again, such as Tiddles ain’t even aware that he hit a woman.”
“Irrelevant, but point taken. Child beater then. Can’t stomach either one. And before you open up that yapping trap to defend the little twit again, tell me if he would have been so quick to clout MacDonell out of his way?”
Connie was forced to concede, “I daresay he would have gone around him.”
“Quite so. Now, since you’ve ruled out all the more preferable forms of reprisal for his bullying tendencies, and the Scot has disappointed me, indeed he has, in merely giving him a warning—”
“I believe the wench saw to that.”
“Again irrelevant. Her wishes don’t come into this. So the next time I see Mr. Tiddles, it had better be with a prayerbook in his hand.”
James wasn’t referring to a religious book, but the soft stone used on the hands and knees to renew the deck surfaces that were too small for the larger holystone to get at. After the deck was wetted down, preferably in rainy weather so water didn’t have to be hauled up, sand would be sprinkled over the entire surface, then the large holystone with its smooth underside would be dragged fore and aft by means of long ropes attached to the ends. Having to go through the same process on your hands and knees was one of the more unpleasant deck chores.
“You want him sanding decks that are perfectly spotless?” Connie asked for clarification.
“For no less than four watches…four consecutive watches.”
“Damn me, Hawke, sixteen hours on his knees won’t leave much skin on them. He’ll be bleeding all over the deck.”
Pointing that out did not change James’s mind as he’d hoped. “Quite so. But at least his bones will be intact.”
“I hope you know this will only make him resent yourladthe more.”
“Not at all. I’m sure you can findsomethingabout the chap to warrant such a mild punishment. Even the cut of his clothes or their condition will do. His shirtfront ought to be nicely wrinkled from MacDonell’s fists, don’t you think? But whatever you find fault with, you’re the dear fellow who’ll be resented, not Georgie.”
“Thanks much,” Connie sneered. “Youcouldjust let it go, you know. They have.”
James watched as the two MacDonells headed toward the forecastle. Georgie had her hand pressed to the ear that had been clouted.
