Page 9 of A Pirate's Pleasure

Whitby’s gaze strayed back to Lief, the younger man too focused on freeing himself from the bindings to realize he was the topic under discussion. “Who is he, then?”

“Who is he?” I echoed, playing for time. “No one special.”

Whitby’s snort was loud and exaggerated. “Right? Because you’re in the habit of leaving port weeks early and putting yourself on the line for someone who’s no one special.”

I looked away from his intense scrutiny, turning my attention back to the horizon, sea birds circling above our heads. “Someone I once knew, or at least thought I did.”

Whitby arched a brow. “Ah, I see. That’s him, is it?”

“Him?”

“The one they whisper about behind your back. The one that chose a big house and a title and wealth over you.”

The words embedded in my skin like metal hooks. One, because I hadn’t known people did whisper about me behind my back, and two, because it was true. “Brave of them,” I said.

Whitby gave a lopsided smile. “Or foolish, depending on how you look at it.” He sniffed. “Anyway, can’t say as I blame him. If someone turned up tomorrow and offered to make me a lord, you wouldn’t see me for dust either.”

I gave him the laugh he was after. We both knew it wasn’t true. Whitby had the sea in his blood, and I doubted there was anyone or anything that could tear him away from it. “Well, in the meantime, you’ll have to settle for being lord of the waves.”

“The question is,” Whitby said, “what you’re going to do with him?”

I shrugged. “I’m still working on the answer to that one. In the meantime, can you find him a cabin? Preferably one a long way from mine.”

Whitby let out another snort. “Sure. I’ll just get my saw out, shall I and magic one up? Shall I stick a broom up my arse and sweep the deck while I’m at it?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is that your twisted way of telling me we don’t have any available?”

“Course we don’t. Since when have we had spare cabins going to waste?”

It wasn’t something I usually needed to worry about, so I hadn’t given it a great deal of thought. “Put him in with somebody else, then. One of the cabin boys, or…”

“The cabin boys all share a bunk. Unless he can fold up real small in a corner, that won’t work.”

“So… what’s the alternative?”

Whitby regarded me with barely concealed amusement. “Let’s see. We could put him in with Garrick, as long as you’re not fussy about him surviving the trip.” He ticked another name off on his fingers. “Or Fenton. Fenton would love a new bed buddy. I just hope your friend is up for giving his arse up for the price of a bed. And then there’s Esmond, of course.”

“I get it,” I said, before he could point out that Esmond suffered from night terrors and had a cabin of his own to prevent him from scaring the living daylights out of anyone, like he’d done with the last person he’d shared with. “You?” I asked hopefully.

“That’ll be cozy,” Whitby drawled. “How does he feel about threesomes?” His gaze strayed back to Lief, his once-over, this time far more thorough and considered. “Can’t say I’d mind too much. Can’t speak for West, though. He might not be so keen.”

He probably wouldn’t be, given that Whitby was his type, and Lief was a world away from being swarthy and tattooed. Whitby clapped me on the back. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a companion to keep you warm at night.”

“He can sleep on the deck. I saved him from the noose. I didn’t promise him a cozy bed and three square meals.”

Whitby laughed. “I can see this voyage to wherever we’re going is going to prove enlightening.” He took a few steps away. “Talk to the crew, though. Sooner rather than later.”

“Are you trying to warn me I might have a mutiny on my hands if I don’t?”

“You?” Whitby smirked. “You’re the only captain I know who’s safe from mutiny. No one’s going to take on you and mother nature. I am, however, trying to warn you they’re pissed. And since they can’t direct their anger toward you, they’ll direct it elsewhere.”

He didn’t have to look at Lief for me to work out who he was talking about. I sighed. How many more times was I going to wish I’d just let the soldiers take Lief before this was over?

Chapter Five

Lief

Holding the knife in such a way that I could get any sort of friction of the rope against the blade was awkward, to say the least. It involved contorting myself into an impossible position, when my arms were already hurting from being twisted behind my back for so long. The sweat dripping into my eyes from my physical exertions didn’t help matters either.