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“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you implied.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It’s not?” she asked in wide-eyed innocence.
Scratching his neck in discomfort, he ground his teeth. “You cross-examine like a bloody solicitor.”
Pleased with herself, Serenity smiled. Why she enjoyed his discomfiture she didn’t know, but one thing was certain, she loved every minute of harassing him.
Court came forward with her food and a cup of milk. “The milk’s fresh, me lady,” he said with a heavy Cockney accent.
Serenity smiled her gratitude. “Thank you, but I’m not a lady.”
“Aye, mum, but you certainly ain’t a tart.”
Serenity was somewhat stunned by his words. How many tarts had the young boy known?
“We need to talk,” Morgan said, pulling at her elbow.
Without another word, she returned with him to his cabin. Primly she took her food to his table and sat down to eat.
Morgan barely caught her tin cup of milk before a lurch in the ship sent it flying. “This is one of the things we need to talk about,” he said, setting it back by her plate. “We have rules on a ship that everyone must follow.”
“And they are?”
“The first is that you avoid being around Cookie. If you need something from the galley, you find Kit, Barney, or myself and we’ll get it for you.”
“But that’s a waste—”
“Serenity,” he snapped, interrupting her. “Cookie is a surly old seaman and we know how to handle him. You don’t.”
Her eyes darkened in anger. “And you would abandon that child to his care? What kind of mon—”
“Court happens to be Cookie’s son and to date he has never harmed the child. Well, that’s probably not true. I’m sure Court’s hearing has been somewhat dulled by Cookie’s shouts, but he’s never physically harmed the boy.”
“Oh,” she said before taking a bite of her food.
Morgan leaned one narrow hip against the edge of her table and Serenity did her best not to think about how nicely his pants fit him.
She forced her eyes to her milk.
But it was hard to keep her gaze from trailing back to his…
“The next thing,” he said, distracting her, “is that a ship is unpredictable, especially since we have a storm moving in. As you’ve noticed, the decks are constantly rolling, and every now and again a sharp wave or break in the ocean will cause the floor to lurch out from under your feet.”
She gabbed her mug as it teetered once more. “I think I follow that.”
“For that reason,” he said, indicating the mug with a tilt of his head. “I want you to stay away from the railings lest you stumble overboard. We lost our netting a few weeks ago and until we replace it, it’s not safe to stand near the edge of the ship.”
“Wise rule, that.”
Morgan ignored her sarcasm. “When you need light below deck, then use one of the lanterns that are available. But whatever you do, don’t set one down. They are suspended by ropes to keep them from hitting the deck and setting fire to it.”
“An extremely valuable safety tip.”
His glare intensified.
