Isaac let out a breath. Not that it made the prospect of a flogging any more enjoyable, but at least it wasn’t a child.
“Well, the sooner we start, the sooner we can be done with this.” He motioned Silas forward.
News had traveled fast and sailors already lined the deck around the foremast, where the two sailors had come to a stop with their captive. Isaac descended the steps after his first officer. With a deliberate slowness in his gait, he made his way to the center of the circle his men had formed. By the time he reached the mast, the crew had fallen quiet. The wind swallowed each intentional click of his boots on the polished deck.
The boy met his gaze and Isaac caught a brief flash of widened brown eyes before the brim of the hat dipped forward to obscure his face. He stared at his boots, unmoving as Isaac came to a stop in front of him.
“What’s your name?”
The boy didn’t answer.
“Alright then. Why are you on my ship?”
Silence stretched between them.
Isaac set his hand on the hilt of his sword, the warm brass a welcome support. “Look at me.”
The boy shook his head and Isaac fought the urge to reach out and yank the youth’s face up. He would keep his composure in front of his crew. With a cough, he cleared his throat and lowered his voice.
“Do you know what the punishment for stowing away is?”
“Lashes.” The word came soft, almost imperceptible.
“You knew, yet you still thought to stowaway on a United Statesnaval ship? I have no choice but to issue the discipline.”
The boy stiffened, but did not protest.
One of his men approached with the whip and Isaac took it. No way to drag it out any further. He nodded to Silas, who pushed the boy to his knees and secured his hands to the mast with a rope.
“Remove his shirt.”
Without fabric in the way, the whip would leave cleaner marks, and Isaac would be better able to judge the intensity. He would make sure to keep the damage to the barest minimum.
Bile burned a path up his throat as Silas took hold of the boy’s shirt. His first time having to mete out punishment as a lieutenant. He’d known it would happen eventually, but so soon? His gaze lifted to the sails as he filled his lungs with salty air. He could pass the task to Silas, as first officers were allowed to administer lashes.
No. If he were to be a respected lieutenant, and someday, captain, he needed to show his men he was more than capable of performing every aspect of his job, no matter how undesirable. He sighed, bunching the corded leather between his fingers and palm. Would it ever get easier?
“Lieutenant?” Silas’s voice cracked. “You’re going to need to come see this.”
Isaac frowned and strode forward, kneeling when his first officer motioned him down.
Silas pulled the billowing shirt up and Isaac’s mouth went slack. He didn’t need to see the strip of linen binding. Because beneath it, smooth skin revealed curves that no man possessed.
“Son of a bitch.” He swatted Silas’s hand away so the garment fell back in place. “Untie her.”
The first officer fumbled with the ropes and as soon as they fell free, Isaac grabbed a slender wrist and yanked the woman up. He had half a mind to rip that ridiculous hat free and expose her to all, but he took a steadying breath. It would only cause a scene and that’s the lastthing he needed.
“Follow me.” The words came out in a growl and he didn’t wait for a response before starting toward his cabin.
He half dragged her beside him, her feet tripping as she struggled to match his long strides. When he reached his door, he flung it open and pushed her inside. He slammed the door behind them, the sound ricocheting through the room as she took several quick steps away from him.
He followed her, coming to a stop directly behind her. “You’ve got exactly five seconds to explain what the hell is going on.”
She hugged her arms around her midsection, but stood rigid and quiet.
“Do not test my patience.” The words rumbled free, laced with warning. Without his crew watching, he reached forward and ripped off the straw hat. Pins went flying and a mess of sleek, dark hair tumbled down. With shoulders straight, she finally lifted her head and slowly turned to face him.
He took a step back, mind reeling as he stared at the familiar face. “Miss Montclair?”
