Page 46 of Devil of the High Seas
Josephine heard the joy in his voice, the love for the ship that would be his. She was envious. A captain’s bond with his vessel was a sacred thing, and she wished she could have seen him on his beloved ship. She had secretly longed for a ship of her own. As a woman, everything she possessed belonged to a man. The clothes on her body, the food in her belly, even the bed she slept in. What would it be like to have something that was hers and hers alone?
“TheSirenhad never belonged to any man. She’d never even been sailed before. She was shiny and new. The colonists have a knack for building ships that are sleek and fast. They don’t use English oak. Most are built from white oak of the north, but mine, she was made of North American live oak from the south. Few shipbuilders like to use it, but I knew the moment I stepped on her decks that her oak was superior to anything English oak could ever produce.”
He smiled as fond memories softened his rugged features. “I could almost hear the shipyard echoes. The rhythmic thuds of the shipwrights’ adzes, the clatter of hammers, and the hoarse grind of long ripsaws as they shaped the oak and spruce into frames and planking to build my beauty.”
“How did she become yours?” Josephine asked.
“I paid all of what I’d saved over the years and bartered my soul for the rest.” He stroked her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. It felt good to be held by him like this, to feel the warmth of his touch long after the heat of their passionate moment had cooled.
“And what of Captain Harding? Did he let you go?”
“He did, with the promise that I sail theLady Sirenalongside him for a few months. We worked together, taking prizes. We were off the coast of the Bahamas when a storm hit. Harding and his crew were forced to abandon their ship and head for land. We rescued them and salvaged some of the cargo. Harding was a broken man after that. He decided to retire, and gave me the mermaid figurehead we’d salvaged from his ship as a gift for mySiren. I took on some of his crew, and we sailed the seas until my boatswain, a man named Beauchamp, turned most of my crew against me.”
Josephine stared at him when she heard his harsh tone.
“Why did they mutiny? Were you a harsh captain?”
His brown eyes still held shadows as he gazed at her, his face solemn.
“My charter gave equal shares to all men, even me. But our take had been poor the last few months, and Beauchamp convinced them I had lied to them about our fair portions and got them thirsting for blood. The men still loyal to me were slaughtered as we escaped theSiren. Only Ronnie and I survived. That was mere hours before I met you. Abandoning my ship was the worst grief I have ever felt aside from the night Charity chose Griffin.”
She replayed the night they’d met in her mind with fresh eyes, seeing now how terrible that night must have been for him. Betrayed, wounded, lost, and exhausted, he had sought refuge in the only place he’d ever been safe, his childhood home. But instead of finding his twin brother, he’d found her.
As if he could sense her thoughts, he kissed her. “I’m glad it wasyouwho found me.” Then he kissed her chin, the tip of her nose, and when she closed her eyes, he kissed her eyelids. “I’m a selfish man, lass. I don’t let my treasure go so easily.” He held her gaze meaningfully.
Her heart twinged with pitiful longing and the foolish hope that he meant it, that she was a treasure to him. If it was true, did that mean he meant to keep her? Would she have a life of freedom with him on his ship? She dared not ask, not yet. She wouldn’t ask him until she was certain that he would say yes.
“Why don’t you rest, lass? I need to speak to Ronnie.” Gavin settled her under the covers, retrieved his clothing and dressed, and then stole one last lingering kiss before he left her alone. She pulled the sheets up over herself and stared at the cabin door as he closed it behind him.
Her pirate wanted time to savor her, but Josephine had a terrible feeling that they didn’t have much time. It was almost as if she could feel some cosmic clock was counting down the minutes that remained of her freedom.
“You may want to wait, Gavin, but I don’t,” she whispered to the empty cabin.
CHAPTER11
They had been at sea two full weeks before the first sign of trouble appeared. Josephine had grown almost lazy with the peaceful days of good wind and sailor duties and nights spent in Gavin’s arms, where he showed her pleasure over and over until she fell headlong into a deep and restful seat.
On their fifteenth day of the voyage Josephine saw the storm. She was stationed on the lookout post atop the mainmast crossbeams, her favorite spot. With her eyes trained on the horizon, the skies, and the water, she saw the storm coming before anyone. The clouds, once soft and lazy, began to build into a tower behind the ship. The jagged edges of the wispy vapor formations were a clear sign of tossing air currents. She cupped her hands and yelled down a warning to a sailor below her on the shrouds.
“Storm off the port stern!”
The sailor heard her warning and bolted for the deck far below as he passed along the warning. By the time the rest of the crew was aware of the approaching danger, Josephine could hear Gavin bellowing commands.
“All hands, wear ship! Main clew garnets and buntlines, mizzen and brails!”
Every man rushed to take in the mizzen sail and the mainsail. Josephine descended the rigging to join the men on the shrouds below as they worked hand over hand to pull the mainsail into a rolled canvas so it wouldn’t be battered against the mast if the wind reversed and blew directly at them rather than from behind.
“Man weather main, lee crossjack braces!” Another command echoed across the decks.
Ronnie held the helm, where he would ride out the storm because changing the helmsman in the midst of a storm was too risky. Men had been tossed over or crushed beneath a wildly spinning helm when it had been released to let another man take over.
Gavin shouted to secure the guns for bad weather. A group of men followed him down the companionway to the gun deck below, but Josephine feared the command would come too late. A sudden squall raced ahead of the approaching storm, and Josephine sprinted back up the rigging for safety. She wrapped her wrists around the shrouds and threaded her ankles through the lines, trying to hold herself to the stiff ropes as the squall hit.
TheCornish Pixielurched to one side as the waves smacked her port side. The impact of the wall of water made thePixielurch like a man taking a blow to the jaw. The ship pitched, rolling wildly as the wind swirled through the forest of masts and rigging.
Bartholomew clung to the rigging near her. “Hold fast, lassie!” They were like a pair of spiders on quivering webs caught in a thunderstorm. The wind whipped her hair against her face in stinging lashes, forcing her to shut her eyes. The waves surged across the decks, and two sailors were swept off their feet. Fortunately, they crashed into the bulwark instead of going over the side. The men on watch struggled to stay behind the shield of the tarpaulin weather cloths. The moment the wave cleared the decks, the men below finished rigging the lifelines and battening down most of the hatches.
“Bartholomew, will you keep a lookout?” she yelled at her friend.
