Page 97 of Stilettos & Secrets on the 7 Seas

I’d just tied a blue ribbon in my hair when Vane’s sloop pulled alongside. The thunk of gangplanks followed by feet thundered overhead as the men boarded. I peeked out the window. No sign of Marco or Ace.

A knock sounded on the door. “Quartermaster summoned ye topside. Be at yer ready,” Shrug’s gruff morning greeting sounded like he needed a quart of coffee.

A few minutes later, the door swung open. Rowan stood on the threshold. He didn’t speak. Instead, he gave me a get-it-in-gear grunt.

“Women need more than the time it takes to cool your morning tea to prepare for the day.” Good thing I’d already made myself presentable; otherwise, I was certain he’d have me topside in my shift.

He grunt-glared at me and turned on his heel. Shrug held the door open, motioning for me to hurry up.

“Where is Captain Smith?” I asked Shrug, shuffling my half-size-too-small pointy-toed flats toward the ladder to the upper deck. I’d found them in the stolen chest. A perfect match to my hijacked blue dress, but not as pretty as my stilettos. However, they’d make it easier to climb the ladders.

Rowan paused with a foot on the ladder. “The captain had a minor injury during the escape. He’s resting in his cabin and weel join us this evening.”

He was recovering from lateral jumping an entire ship, which took some power and drained a traveler. The more the merrier didn’t hold water when jumping a vessel.

“I hope he makes a speedy recovery.” I struggled up the ladder after him with Shrug on my heels.

My shoe caught on the last ladder rung and I sprawled out onto the main deck, mentally adding pull-ups to my dreaded daily workout routine.

Rowan scooped me up with one hand and plopped me down next to Shrug.

Charles Vane stood with a small number of his crew. The remainder gathered around the deck on theRanger, some hanging from the mast, others tucking and tying away sails, and all of them watching.

Rowan walked to Vane. TheSea Stormcrew crowded behind him, pushing me aside.

“Ye requested Miss Jennifer,” Rowan said. “You have questions?”

Two robust pirates latched onto my biceps and yanked me front and center.

“Aye, I do,” Vane told Rowan, but his eyes took in theSea Storm,the crew, and the slight damage to one of the poles, which I think they called a spar, as if he was planning his attack.

“Go on.” Rowan stood firm, hand on the butt of his pistol.

“How did ye manage to reach the other side of the island before me?” Vane fingered the handle of the sword in his belt. “I sailed from the harbor ahead of you.”

Rowan towered over Vane, but I knew from the history books Vane was a cunning pirate. “The smoke gave cover, thanks to yer ship. We followed ye out and the wind took our sail, moving us around the cove opposite ye in the darkness.”

Vane scratched his beard, possibly contemplating if it could happen. His gaze leveled on me like I had sprinkled fairy dust on theSea Stormand leap-frogged over him. “Tell me more about yer visions.”

Shrug cut through the crowd and pointed a finger at me. “She’s a witch.”

Where was the loyalty?

Rowan silenced Shrug with a menacing stare.

“Are you a witch?” Vane semi-circled around me like a shark, evaluating whether his prey was worth eating.

“No. Like I told you. I have visions. I was right about Rogers blocking the harbor and forcing the pirates to take the pardon, was I not?” I attempted a smug look at Vane, but my insides threatened to turn topside, so I wasn’t sure if I had pulled it off.

“Hang her, or for better, keelhaulin’.” Shrug had hurt feelings after being bamboozled with the pig. A few of the crew cheered. These guys fed on drama like piranhas on an amputated arm. They’d love a good soap opera.

“Shut yer trap,” Rowan snapped at Shrug, who cowered toward the back of the crew.

Vane studied me, possibly debating whether I was a witch, the captain’s woman, or both. “We dinnae take kindly to having women aboard.”

“’Tis a good thing she’s no on yer ship,” Rowan said.

Yeah, good thing.

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