Page 6 of Escaping Pirates
“Elena,” I corrected politely, trying to force my parched mouth into forming words without rasping too badly. “Like Ellen, with an-uhafter it. And I don’t need a bed, just some blankets and?—”
“You can take a blanket and keep it in the brig,” Blossom said with a sniff. “Handmaidens don’t sleep in the same room as their mistresses. Now read to me.”
“I need water in order to read aloud,” I croaked, hating how weak my voice sounded.
“Take some, then, but wipe the glass and pitcher after,” Blossom said, walking her fingers across the spines of her books to select one for me to read.
I poured a glass and downed it within a matter of seconds, then crammed a scone into my mouth while the girls weren’t looking. I wasn’t sure if I would be allowed more but decided that it would be better to beg forgiveness than permission before my stomach shriveled up. After a second glass of water, I felt marginally better and the shaking in my arms stopped.
“I found one!” Blossom called, handing me a thick tome and reclining onto the settee in what she obviously thought was a refined and elegant manner.
“Is it a romance?” Sugar asked, abandoning the mirror and coming over to flop back onto a bed.
“Yes, it certainly is,” I confirmed, thumbing through enough to know that it wasn’t the sort of book any refined lady would be caught dead with.
“Oh, goody,” Sugar said, rolling onto her front and kicking her feet in the air so her skirts fell to her knees. She placed her chin in her hands and waited expectantly. “Daddy never reads those to us.”
“I wonder why,” I muttered under my breath, then began.
After half an hour of reading, my voice was hoarse and Sugar and Blossom had already grown bored with the story.
“Haveyouever been in love?” Sugar asked me, returning to examine her reflection in the mirror.
“I’ve liked boys, but I can’t claim love for any of them. One of them proposed, but I said no.”
“Did you go to dances with him?”
“Yes.”
“Did he bring you flowers and chocolates?” Sugar sighed.
“Or write you love poems?” Blossom suggested.
“Yes to flowers and chocolates, but no poetry. We only saw each other for a few months.”
Sugar clutched her pillow. “Did you kiss?”
“Once.”
“What was his name?”
“Lawrence.”
Blossom studied me with her stoic, emotionless face. “Was he very handsome?”
“I suppose he was.”
“Then why didn’t you marry him?” Sugar looked shocked that anyone would forgo marrying a man who was handsome, for any reason at all.
“He and I just weren’t very compatible. I think he wanted someone a little more reserved, and I wanted someone who gave more consideration to my feelings. He isn’t a bad person, but he just wasn’t for me.”
“I want someone handsome,” Sugar said. “He will tell me I’m beautiful every day.”
“I want someone clever so he can appreciate my intellect,” Blossom countered. “And he’ll also be handsome.”
Talking about romance wasn’t the worst way to spend my time in captivity. “What are your experiences with men?” I asked, absentmindedly reaching for another scone.
Sugar swatted my hand away. “Don’t touch my food! You’re filthy.”
