“Come in,” came a muffled deep male voice. The captain sounded young.
Danielle held her breath while O’Malley pushed open the door. The second mate stepped inside first. Danielle followed him. She’d never seen a captain’s cabin so grand. It must have taken up the whole aft of the ship. There was a desk, a set of chairs, and a brass bathtub of all things, with buckets hung on pegs near it. A large bed dominated the rear of the space, with emerald-green satin sheets covering it. No small bunk forthiscaptain. The room smelled like lemon wax and a spicy mix of cigar smoke and something else vaguely familiar that Danielle couldn’t quite place. She glanced around, curious for a glimpse of the man who inhabited such a grand space.
“Here’s the new cook’s assistant,” O’Malley said, doffing his hat and gesturing back toward Danielle. O’Malley was a large man. Given her lack of height, Danielle couldn’t see around him.
“Captain Oakleaf,” she intoned. She hoped todieuhe didn’t question why she didn’t doff her hat, too.
“Cross, did you say?” the captain asked.
There was something familiar about that voice. Fear snaked up Danielle’s spine.
“Aye, Cap’n,” O’Malley replied. The larger man stepped to the side just then and Danielle was afforded an unencumbered view of the captain’s tall, broad-shouldered form. He stood with his back to her, but his physique caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. He seemed so… familiar.
“Welcome, Mr. Cross,” the captain said, turning to face her.
Their eyes met and Danielle had to brace her hand against the bulkhead to keep herself steady. Time stopped. Whatever O’Malley was saying was unintelligible noise in her ears. She blinked twice, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. It couldn’t be… Cade. Cade was Captain Oakleaf?
She had fooled the others, but there was no fooling Cade Cavendish. She sucked in her breath and with a small gasp, took an instinctive step back.
Cade betrayed her by neither word nor deed. His eyes didn’t blink, his brows didn’t rise, and there was no gasp, small or otherwise, from his quarter. He stood there, outwardly calm and entirely in control. Damn him. He had to be surprised, didn’t he? He couldn’t have possibly known. The implications of that line of logic raced through Danielle’s brain at a speed that made her head ache. No. No. He couldn’t possibly have known.
“Don’t be afeered o’ the cap’n,” O’Malley said, poking Danielle in the ribs with his elbow and laughing. “He’s a large man, ta be sure, but I promise he won’t beat ye. Unless ye steal sumpin’ o’ don’t do yer duties. Then it’s the cat-o-nine fer ye,” O’Malley continued, still laughing good-naturedly.
All Danielle could do was nod. Nod and stare at Cade, willing him not to reveal her secret in front of O’Malley. She plucked at her shirt again. It was practically plastered to her chest. Had she really ever thought it was cooler here than the galley? Ridiculous.
“Would you care for a drink,MisterCross?” Cade asked smoothly.
Danielle did not mistake the emphasis he placed on her name. She closed her eyes briefly, praying. How long had it been since she’d prayed? No time like the present to begin again.
After a quick knock, the door swung open again and this time McCummins strolled in. The first mate was usually humming and this time was no exception. He stopped as soon as he saw them. “Ah, there ye be, Cross. I was looking fer ye ta bring ye here ta meet the cap’n. Seems me matey Seanny beat me ta it.”
“That’s what ye get fer snoozin’ on the job,” O’Malley replied, still laughing.
McCummins grabbed his tricorn off his balding head and slapped at the other man with it. O’Malley followed suit and a good-natured tussle ensued before Cade ended it with one word that shot through the cabin like the crack of a pistol. “Enough.”
Both men fell into line next to each other and jammed their hats back on their heads. Cade smiled. “I was just about to ask Cross here if he’d like a drink.” He made his way toward the desk. “Where did you say you found Cross again?”
Nearly panting from fear, Danielle couldn’t look away from him. It was as if their gazes were melded together. Would he betray her? Would he? Sweat trickled between her breasts. She clenched her jaw. Why was there a tiny part of her that was… glad to see him?
“I told ye, Cap’n,” McCummins began. “O’Malley met his pa in—”
“No.” Another crack like a pistol. “I’d likeCrossto tell the story.”
Danielle sucked in her breath. She could do this. Grimaldi wasn’t a fool. He’d prepared her well by explaining how she’d come to be on the boat. She expelled a breath and focused on her earlier conversation with the general. It was not possible Grimaldi hadn’t known Cade was the captain of this ship. Known and not seen fit—for some godforsaken reason—to tell her. She was going to gut the general from ear to navel when next they met. Ironic, considering he’d been the one to teach her how to use a knife so deftly. There would be time later to fantasize about how she’d murder Grimaldi.
At the moment, her only concern, her greatest concern, was ensuring that Cade kept her secret. She’d be no better than horsemeat on a ship like this within minutes if word got out she was a woman.
She kept her eyes trained on Cade. “I’ve done a few things I ain’t proud of, Cap’n,” she said, silently willing him to hold his tongue.
His brows rose when he heard her accent. A quirk of amusement? She deftly continued. “Me pa were looking out fer me, wanted ta find me a spot on the first ship what was leaving ’arbor.”
“And that was my ship?” Cade drawled. He crossed over to a cupboard near the desk and took out two glasses. Next, he pulled a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. He splashed a healthy portion of the brown liquid into both glasses.
“Aye.” She still eyed him warily.
He held up both glasses. “Care for a drink, Cross?”
“No, thank ye, Cap’n,” she answered politely, folding her hands together in front of her.
