His eyes lit when the two women and half the occupants of the room turned their attention toward him. “Didn’t you hear?”
Josephine crossed her arms as a wide smile spread across his pock-marked face. “No, tell us.”
The pirate raised his voice. “Thorne has escaped, on the very day he was to be hanged.”
The noise in the room dimmed as the news rippled from one corner to the next. Finally, a man at the next table raised his mug. “To Thorne!” Frothy ale sloshed onto the weathered wood. “And damn the Navy! Hopefully the old bastard took out as many as he could!”
That got the rest of the tavern all riled up. Mugs clanked as a chorus of agreement thundered throughout the space.
Escaped.
Josephine’s jaw clenched. Could Officer Caldwell have survived the first clash with Thorne only to perish during the escape?No. If Thorne had gotten away, the Navy would have thrown everything—and everyone—they could spare into the chase. Yes. That must be it.
Colette raised a red brow. “Don’t get your hopes up, Missy. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”
“Sometimes, I wish I’d never told you about that night.” Josephine began filling mugs.
“No need to take offense. Trust me, I’ve been infatuated withplenty of men in my days.” Colette helped her pour the ale. “I know firsthand how infatuation leads to heartbreak. And you don’t deserve that, especially not from a man who probably hasn’t given you a single thought since that night.”
I will not forget you.
She had not told her friend about that particular exchange. He had said it with such sincerity, Josephine could not believe otherwise.
Was she naive? Perhaps he said that to every young woman he met in port.
A cold heaviness snaked through her belly.
Colette was only trying to look out for her.
She gave a small smile and picked up four mugs. “You’re right. Here, help me carry these to the table in the corner.”
Her friend laughed. “I’m right? Don’t think I’ve ever heard those words out of you before.”
Josephine shook her head and headed toward the table where a new game had started. As she set the last mug down, an arm snaked around her waist and tugged her hard. She nearly fell into the lap of the young pirate she’d won the turtle from.
“Looks like my luck has changed.” The slurred words sent her skin crawling.
Josephine twisted from his grasp and took a big step back in case he tried again.
“Why don’t you head home? I’ll distract this lot.” Colette winked and sat in the still empty chair. She set a hand on the man’s leg and leaned toward him. “There’s a private room upstairs, if you haven’t gambled everything away yet.”
Josephine turned away, a knot in her stomach. Even after spending years watching her friend work, it still made her uneasy. Colette had assured her time and time again not to worry. She picked and chose her lovers each night and charged a hefty price.
While part of Josephine longed for that sort of freedom, she hadnever dared try. Not that Colette would ever let her. Like any motherly figure, her friend yearned to see Josephine find a good man—which wouldn’t happen in the upstairs bedrooms at the Golden Lantern. Not that her chances were higher anywhere else on this God-forsaken island.
With a sigh, she went to the bar and gathered her belongings before ducking into a closet. She made short work of changing from her skirt and blouse into a pair of soft lambskin breeches and a men’s shirt. Twisting her hair up, she shoved a straw hat on. Though she lived only a short walk away from the tavern, walking around at this time of night as a woman could be problematic. After being harassed multiple times over the years, she’d come up with the disguise. No one ever seemed to notice a lone cabin boy wandering the streets.
She made her way to the door and slipped outside. A deep breath of humid air replaced the stink of old ale and unwashed bodies. Floral undertones mixed with an ever-present saltiness and she took another appreciative breath. The small size of the island meant one could never escape the smell of the sea.
Josephine kicked at a stone along the dry path leading to her home. Life on a pirate island should be exciting. When they had moved to Tortuga, she’d been ten years old with visions of adventures and buried treasures filling her head. But, as it happened, girls weren’t allowed to have any of the fun. And no pirate worth his salt would ever think of hiding treasure on the island. Besides, even with the resurgence of piracy in the Caribbean over the last decade, it was nothing like the swashbuckling days a hundred years back. Back then, the island had been the hideout of some of the most famous pirates of the time.
Her fingers drifted to her pocket and brushed against the cool heft of the onyx sea turtle. She sighed. When her mother had gotten sick and passed, her father promised to send her to boarding school in France or America. But time passed with a different excuse each yearand now, at twenty-three, any hope of that had long passed.
If her disguise were truth, she could join a crew and travel the world—feel the sway of a ship beneath her feet, visit ports she had only ever imagined. Instead, being a woman meant she was trapped in the monotony of a life offering little more than domestic routine and evenings spent staring out the window. Marriage prospects hovered perilously close to zero as any respectable merchantmen who passed through never lingered long enough to spark more than a fleeting curiosity. Still, she caught herself wondering what it would be like to sail beside a man whose eyes lingered just a moment too long, whose laugh stirred something in her chest. So she was left to daydream—of distant harbors, of daring adventures, and of a heart brave enough to follow them.
While her thoughts about the Navy sailor had been pleasant, Colette was right, she needed to move on. With a sigh, she pushed open their gate and walked to the steps. At the top, she turned and looked out into the night. Wispy clouds framed the moon and the frogs trilled louder than ever. Whether she got married or wasted away into spinsterhood—whatever happened with her life—the island didn’t care. It would continue on as it always had.
Quietly, she opened the door and slipped inside. When she clicked it shut, a scrape came from her father’s study and he poked his head into the hall.
