Chapter 15

S O READING A CHAPTER didn't happen. Not even a page. It was absolutely pointless to try and focus his attention on words, especially words that meant nothing to him. That were completely irrelevant to his predicament. Reading, or rather, staring at black shapes on a contrasting cream background, offered no reprieve from the tension he felt. He couldn't detach from his bewilderment of Agatha. Instead, he figured the only method that might work to eradicate her from his mind was sleep.

Not more than five minutes into his slumber, a loud crash sounded. Jude woke with a jolt and listened to the rain beat down on the ship.

He threw the blankets off and was just about to tear out of bed when he felt Agatha quaking beside him. She was shaking in her sleep. The ship rocked and she rolled into him. Her hands reached out and clutched at his forearm. In a daze, her voice trembled.

"Jude?" Vulnerability laced her simple plea, and clawed at what he imagined was his heart.

"I'm here." His voice was hoarse. Two simple words but they felt like more. He was here. For her. He should leave. He should go check on his crew, man the ship, take charge. But something about her beckoned to him, called him, pulled him in. He wanted to take charge of her. He had the oddest inclination that if he couldn't' take care of her that he would never be able to take care of anything else in his life, including his ship.

Knowing he couldn't shirk his duties but not wanting to leave her, he was torn.

"I'll go check on everything and then return as soon as I can."

She would be far more terrified than anyone else onboard, so he would do his damndest to make it quick.

When he turned to gauge her response, she nodded, holding the coverlet close to her chest.

Damn, never more did he hope that this storm's bark was worse than her bite.

He threw on an outer layer of clothing and dashed out of the room. When Sprat met him on deck.

"I've got it under control, Captain," Sprat shouted over the rain.

"I'll check—"

"Go back to your woman."

"She's not my—"

"Get back to bed, you idiot.

"I'll just go see how Big John is holding up with Bruno."

"They're fine. Bruno has fit in just fine. Just like the rest of us. You picked a good one."

Jude shook his head. Glad to hear that Bruno was settling in well. Only time would truly tell, but at least there were no issues to speak of yet.

"You always know just how to pick ‘em, Captain." Sprat tipped his head. "Not sure how you know. But you see something in people before anyone else." He rubbed his jaw as he held the ship's wheel with one hand. "Maybe you even see something in them before they see it themselves." He let out a long whistle. "Now that's something. Sounds deep. Maybe I should have been a philosopher instead of a privateer."

"Sure, Sprat. I can see you now, cigar in your mouth, feet propped up, reading books all day and chatting men's ears off at night."

"Now, now. No need to rip into my dreams."

"Didn't realize you had any dreams beyond this ship."

"Maybe I do." He shrugged. "Maybe I don't."

"What's that supposed to mean? Should I be looking for a new first mate?"

"Nah. Just yanking your chain. I'll be here with you til the end. No need to worry your pretty little head."

Jude barked out a laugh. "Good to hear."

"Now get back to your cabin," he shouted, "before you do something you'll regret."

And he might just do something regrettable. Now that he was up here, he had an excuse to distance himself from her. Which made the most sense to do. He had room for only one anchor in his life and didn't want any deadweight hanging around his neck.

But then he heard in his head the soft plea she had made just before he left, and he felt her vulnerability resting in his hands. Not that she was something easily broken. No, not that. But a storm like this one could leave a nasty imprint on her. A scratch. A scar. A bruise. And that thought tore at his own flesh because in no universe could he imagine letting any harm come to her.

So what made the most sense in his head—to create distance because he wasn't looking for a relationship—didn't make any sense in his heart.

Jude's eyes met Sprat's. "I'm going back down. "

His first mate belted out a laugh that should have been drowned out by the rains; instead, it followed him all the way back down to his cabin.

Not clear on what he was going to do with Agatha, he burst through the door hoping his sudden movement would jostle something into place in his mind. When he entered the room, his gaze immediately landed on Agatha, curled up on his bed, and nothing else mattered except to go to her. To be with her.

He shed his outer layer, and as he climbed into the bed, it sunk hard and fast, rolling her into him. Wrapping his arms around her, he slid further under the coverlet and laid down with her against his chest.

"Sh…it's alright."

"I know." Though her words were brave, there was a subtle quake in them. "I-I-I'm not usually afraid of storms." Her teeth chattered. "B-but here on the ocean feels so different. If something happens to this ship, we'll sink."

"She's been through worse."

"But what if she decides to give up this time?"

Jude had faced death countless times, too many to recall each one individually. But he still remembered the first time, and he imagined it felt very similarly to how Agatha felt right now. Whenever Jude had come face to face with death, no one had been there to hold his hand through it. He was a man. A privateer. A captain, damn it. He had figured it all out on his own. He had faked so much confidence for so long that it had become his default demeanor. But he knew Agatha needed some reassurance.

"She won't," he rasped into her hair.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she does what I tell her to do. And do you know why?"

Just as he intended, he felt the curl of her lips. A small smile tickling his chest. "Because you're the captain."

"That's right." He pulled her in closer and kissed the top of her head. "Now, try to sleep."

"I don't know if I can sleep."

"I'll hold you until you do."

"Is that supposed to be a promise or a threat?"

A grunt was the best he could do in reply because truthfully, he wasn't sure which one it was. This woman had pushed, elbowed, and thundered her way into his life as swiftly as this storm had befallen them. It was impossible to decipher his feelings, let alone process them in full.

But this…holding her…having her trust…

She didn't even know who he truly was. And that, by far, was the best part. For much too long he had batted away women in pursuit of his title, and here he had a woman willingly in his arms without a clue as to his true identity. For the better part of them knowing each other, Agatha had thought he was a fake pirate. Now she appreciated the fact that he was a privateer, but little did she know the deepest truth.