Page 45 of Dark Water Daughter


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“Could still share,” he muttered, his huge, mittened hands wrapped around the spokes of the wheel.

I passed the flask on, and over the next few moments, the three of us drank in silence. Then Fisher tapped the empty flask on my arm in farewell and vanished across the deck.

“She’s not all bad,” the helmsman commented, then added hastily, “an’ I mean no offense by that.”

I glanced at the man sideways and grinned. “Still, be careful not to say that in her hearing, crewman.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with all seriousness.

Fisher had already slipped from my mind, though, as my eyes strayed back to the speck that wasDefiance. It was true. My brother Benedict and I had not spoken in years, not since I had resigned my commission. The words we had exchanged on that day were not easily forgiven.

With any luck, this was the closest I would ever come to my brother again.

SEVENTEEN

On the Account

MARY

Iawoke to singing through the deck above my hammock, rumbling baritones accompanied by the steady beat of a drum. Disoriented, I squinted around my dark little chamber, trying to recall what ship I was on and how I’d gotten here.

Lighter female voices joined in and feet stomped right above my head. I heard what sounded like a clap ofthunder—asailfilling?—andthe whole cabin creaked, tipping to one side. My hammock swung, ropes strained, and I braced my hands in a beam above.

Demery. What had I done?

I’d joined a damn pirate crew, that’s what I’d done.

The urge to stay in my hammock indefinitely assailed me, but my bladder was full, my stomach empty and the cold chamber stank of wood and damp and sweat. Besides, hiding wasn’t an option. I had a job to do, and that job was the only leverage I had.

I grasped the beam above my head, slipped my legs out of the hammock, and dropped with awhumpof blankets and skirts. I hadn’t fully undressed the night before, just removing my bodice and loosening my stays enough to sleep. I tightened my stays again with a few tugs as I picked my way over to the lidded bucket hung on one wall and saw to my necessities. Then I dressed, fixed my braid, and stepped out into the main cabin.

It was empty, its table clean, chairs lashed and trunks closed. The windows and balcony door filtered bright sunlight through murky, bottle-bottom panes. Each had a small section that could be opened, and one of these was carefully fastened back.

Salty wind gusted through on a shaft of cool light. I made for it, closing my eyes and letting the clean air fill my lungs. The songs of the crew drifted to me more clearly, the drumbeat steady and punctuated with laughter.

“Ah, you are awake.”

I froze. The voice was familiar, tugging me back to the gallows and rough hempen noose.

Footsteps approached, two cautious paces, and I turned to see Charles Grant standing on the other side of the table, between me and the cabin’s main door. Our eyes met and for a heartbeat he looked appropriately chagrined, then his expression locked into a pleasant smile. The handsomeness of the look was marred only by two bold cuts down one cheek, still crusted with scabs and edged with fresh, puffy, pink flesh.

“What happened to your face?” I asked, stunned. “Why are you here?”

The man’s smile twitched and he rubbed a thumb along his jaw. He ignored my second question. “Speck did. Or rather, he held me down while Kaspin took his due.”

A shard of pity wedged into my heart, but it was easy to ignore after what he’d done.

“Why would he do that?” I asked hotly. “I thought you’d settled your debt by selling me into a life of servitude.”

“A warning. He’s a killer, Mary, and he would have butchered both of us if I hadnot…didwhat I did.” He took another step forward, and my eyes dropped to the cutlass at his hip. “I saved your life.”

“And I saved yours from the noose. How are you here?” Fury rippled through me. If he hadn’t sold me out, if I’d have run off into the snow instead of lingering beside thatriverboat…Mypath would have been so different.

Or would it? Inexplicable as his motives were, Lirr would still be hunting me. And I would be alone, on the run, with no idea what was happening or where to find my mother.

But I’d just awoken on a ship full of pirates, far from home, and come face-to-face with the man who had set that series of events into motion. I was in no mood for fortitude.

“I did what I had to do,” he insisted. “Life is full of difficult decisions, Mary.”

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