Page 58 of The Pirate Lord
Ann shook her head. “I don’t think so. She fights with him, but she pines for him, too. And it’s clear as day he’s got his eye on her.”
With a snort, Louisa swept more refuse into the dustpan. “Oh, of course. That’s why he called for Queenie that night we arrived?—”
“But he didn’t do nothin’ with her. I heard her tell another girl all about it. He sent her to Mr. Kent instead. And I’ll wager it was on account of Miss Willis.”
Louisa stopped short on her way to Silas’s bed to pull off the dirty linens. Sara and Captain Horn? What a dreadful thought! It could never work, those two together. If Sara believed she could handle that pirate captain, she was much mistaken. He was the sort of man to break a woman’s heart, especially one that hadn’t been toughened like Louisa’s. “If you’re right, they’ve certainly been discreet about it. He seems to avoid her, and she does the same.”
“Aye, but they watch each other when they think the other’s not lookin’. One day she was laughin’ at somethin’ Mr. Kent said, and Captain Horn scowled so fiercely at ’em both I thought for sure they’d go up in flames. Right after that was when he put Mr. Kent to helpin’ the men bring lumber from the far side of the island. He’s got an eye for her, and I think she’s got one for him, too.”
“Oh, I hope you’re wrong. He’s not the right man for her.”
“I dunno.” Ann bent to pick up a pewter cup lying under the table. “He’s not so bad as you might think. He was right nice to me when we talked once. Asked me about Ma and all. He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”
“Getting to know him is precisely what I intend to avoid.” Louisa snatched the sheets off the bedroll that lay in the midst of a spartan wooden frame. Captain Horn terrified the wits out of her. He was too much like Harry, her former employer’s son, for her tastes. Although she’d never seen Captain Horn hurt anyone, she couldn’t help believe his bite would be far worse than his bark, which was fierce enough. She had no desire to find out for certain.
Nor could she bear to think of sweet Sara in that hard man’s arms. She didn’t care what Ann said, the thought was just dreadful. The next chance she had to be alone with Sara, she’d talk some sense into the woman.
Suddenly, Ann let out a low whistle from across the room. “Dear me, what’s this?” Setting aside the pewter cup, she picked up a carved wooden object half-hidden behind a balled-up pair of rank-smelling woolens.
Louisa glanced at what Ann was holding and shrugged. “It looks like a carving of a woman.”
“Yes, but with such big— I mean, have you ever seen a woman with . . . with. . ..”
“Bosoms,” she said dryly. “You can say the word, you know.”
Taking the carving from Ann, she turned it in her hands. The woman did indeed have disproportionate breasts for her body. They were large as pumpkins. They matched a set of buttocks that were truly spectacular in size, but then, a woman would need those buttocks to keep the weight of those breasts from making her keel over. Louisa examined the small head and feet, recognizing the style from things she’d seen in books. “I suspectthis comes from those African places where they worship fertility goddesses.”
Ann looked puzzled. “Fertility goddesses?”
“I read about them in a travel journal a long time ago.”Back when I spent my evenings reading, when I had a life ahead of me. Back before Harry started fondling my ‘bosoms’. . ..
“What’s a fertility goddess?” Ann persisted, jerking Louisa from her unpleasant thoughts. “And why are her . . . bosoms so big?”
“Because she represents the fertility of women.” When Ann looked blank, Louisa added, “Women feed children from their breasts, so the craftsman made them big to show women’s nurturing qualities.”
Clearly Ann was unfamiliar with the concept of symbolism. The young woman took the carving back from Louisa. “Do you think Silas worships it?”
“I doubt it,” she said dryly. “Judging from what Barnaby told us, Silas can’t . . . er . . . father children. No, I suspect his interest in it is more prurient.”
“Aye, and probably nasty, too.”
“Yes, probably so,” Louisa said, biting back a smile.
Ann was now scrutinizing the carving. “’Tis a funny-shaped thing, if you ask me. All teats and buttocks and nothing else. I wonder, do the women in Africa look like this?”
“I doubt it. If they did, we’d already have seen a mass exodus of the English male populace to Africa.”
Ann giggled. “Aye, but they’d be disappointed after a while. A woman like that couldn’t even lie down, could she? Her breasts are so big, they’d hang off the sides of her, and she’d have to balance atop that enormous rear end. She’d never get any sleep and that would keep her husband awake at night.”
“I don’t think her lack of sleep would be what kept her husband awake at night,” Louisa mumbled.
Ann looked at her with a complete lack of comprehension, and this time Louisa couldn’t contain her smile. Really, sometimes Ann was like a child. Despite everything she’d gone through, she still looked at the world with fresh eyes. Louisa had never been that innocent. She’d never been allowed to be.
“You know, Silas shouldn’t have something indecent like this laying about,” Ann said. “One of the children might see it.” She brightened. “I know! We should put clothes on it! That would make it all right, don’t you think?”
“Oh, by all means. Do clothe the woman,” Louisa said, laughter bubbling up from her throat.
Ann flitted about the room looking for something appropriate. “Ah, this’ll be fine,” she said, her back to Louisa. She fooled with the thing a bit, then turned and held it up for Louisa’s approval.
