Page 73 of Go, Rogue

Catherine doesn’t even try to hide her triumphant smile. “Then we’re agreed,” she says. “Bermuda and then Jamaica.”

“Aye,” McNeil says, “but only if we can straighten out the steam pipes. That arsehole James,” he looks at Catherine, “begging your pardon, ma’am,” but she only waves him on. “He put holes straight through two of our pipes. We need a hell of a sealant to fix that kind of damage, red lead or the like, but we haven’t any.”

“Oakum?” Rogers asks, but McNeil shakes his head.

“No junk rope left to make it.”

“What’s oakum?” Catherine asks.

“A mix of fiber and tar pitch to be used as a plaster.” Rogers frowns. “Red lead is best—that’s a powder mixed with linseed oil to make a paste—but without it, oakum would get us to port. And without that, I’m not clear we’re going anywhere.” He turns his attention back to McNeil. “There’s nothing to unpick for the fibers?”

“Nay. Between the fires and cannonball damage, everything’s done for. We’ve no other fabric or rope that’s strong enough.”

“We might,” Catherine says, thinking of the heap of silk and lace she arrived in. “I have my wedding dress.”

Rogers snorts at her but McNeil stops him. “What’s it made of, Mrs. McGann? Silk?” He turns to Rogers. “Silk’s strong, sir. My sister’s a seamstress and has always said it’s the strongest fabric outside of hemp. It could work.”

“Silk is strong,” Rogers agrees, “but unfortunately it’s also rather smooth. The threads won’t take the tar pitch like rope fibers would.”

“It might if we add in lace,” Catherine says. “Which I also happen to have. A lovely piece of French work on my veil. That will work, won’t it?”

“I think we’ve got to try, Mrs. McGann,” McNeil says. “Though I’m sorry about your wedding gown. I know you must treasure it. The captain’ll be right impressed by your sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice, indeed,” Rogers adds drolly but says nothing more after the glare that Catherine shoots him.

“I’ll go and fetch it then.” She strides briskly away to resurrect her wedding gown from the corner grave she’d buried it in.