Chapter 10

Avaline's eyes sprang open, stung by a sun that had recently escaped the grasp of the horizon. She jerked her head around, dreading encountering the captain's sleeping form beside her, but his side lay empty and cold.

She sank back on the pillow and gave herself a moment to settle her galloping heartbeat.

Her attempt, though, fell short of its full potential.

On the deck above, the sails fluttered, a rhythmic chorus with the waves rushing, but their lullaby failed to soothe her restless mind this morning.

Instead, a subtle but persistent throb simmered beneath her skin, springing from a coiling warmth deep within her. She let out a long exhale and rolled over, grinding a hand against her aching core. She squirmed under the touch, a delightful shiver running through her.

She increased the pressure and squirmed again. "Ooh…"

What if–

"Miss?" A rap at the door followed Freddie's raspy voice. "Be ye awake?"

Avaline jerked her hand away from the moisture between her legs and jolted upright in the berth. "Yes?" Her voice was but a mousy squeak.

"The captain has given ye permission to assist me in the galley today if ye fancy."

Nothing in Freddie's voice revealed he was familiar with the intimacy she had shared with the captain at night, but still, her cheeks grew warm with a flush. "O-of course, I would be delighted to."

"Aye. Me will be in the galley then, lass."

Avaline sat stiffly until Freddie's footsteps receded along the companionway. Then she buried her face in her hands and groaned.

Good Lord! Where was her self-respect?

She flung the blanket aside and jumped to her feet. Better not dwell on it.

Perhaps the captain had a flicker of compassion after all, contrary to her initial impression. He had replaced the door to the cabin despite his earlier refusal, and if he had intended to violate her, he wouldn't have acted the way he had thus far.

What a complicated man.

And contrary to common sense, it made him intriguing.

The pitcher had no water left, so Avaline used Hainsworth's comb to tame her hair and gathered the strands in a braid.

Freddie was rummaging through a canvas sack when Avaline entered the galley. The fire blazed in the cookstove, and a soft crackling accompanied the hissing flames. The heat was as fierce as the noonday sun. Two hefty pots perched on the stove, filled with steaming water, and a gauzy haze filled the air with the smell of charred wood.

"Good morning, Freddie."

Freddie lifted his gaze from the sack, and his face split into a radiant grin. "Ahoy, miss. Ye had a good rest, me hopes."

Avaline chose not to read anything but politeness into his inquiry. "Yes, thank you. You must have been awake a while?"

"Aye. Me been awake since before the sun peeked over the horizon."

"Do you always wake up this early?" Avaline sat on a bench a bit farther from the sizzling stove.

"Nay, not usually. We best be ready for some rough seas. The weather is blowin' in, so our only hot grub today will be the first meal."

"A storm?" A sudden chill filled her, and Avaline reached for her shawl but found nothing. She had left it behind in the grand cabin.

Freddie hung the canvas sack on a hook beneath the deck above. "Mayhap a tempest, but we'll skirt the edge of it. We'll need to batten down the hatches, and the stove will be useless in high winds. We'll have to make do with hardtack and scraps till nightfall."

"I see." The knot keeping her stomach in a vise unraveled. "And how can I help you?"

Freddie reached for another bulging sack among the dangling provisions, dropping it on the wooden table with a thud.

"We be makin' porridge and boiled pork. Ye could chop the cabbage"—he nodded at a wooden crate next to the stove—"and put 'em in the pot." He untied the string and pulled a dried pork loin from the sack. "The first meal will be served already at seven bells, so yer help is much appreciated."

He extended a blade to her but then retracted it, his brows arching in a contrite expression. "Aye, about that…" The tip of his tongue ran across his lower lip. "The captain be in a foul mood after yer little stunt with the blade, and he cannae fancy ye layin' a hand on any weapons."

Avaline suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Do you reckon Captain Hainsworth would have allowed me to assist you in the galley if I were bereft of a blade? What else could I help you with?"

"Eh?" A bewildered look crossed Freddie's features, and the golden hoops in his ears shimmered as his head swiveled from her to the stove and back again. "Aye, me s'pose ye be right." Then he fixed a suspicious gaze at her. "Ye won't pull any tricks on me, lass?"

"I won't, I promise."

Freddie muttered something but handed her the blade. Avaline diced the cabbage, ignoring Freddie, who was gazing at her from the corner of his eyes as he proceeded to chop the loin. Even had she desired to harm him, it would have availed her little in her plight, and besides, Freddie had shown her nothing but kindness. She couldn't fault him for his captain's choices.

For a spell, they toiled in quietude, lulled by the rhythmic surge of the sea and the cozy chatter of the fire. As Freddie eased into a semblance of calm, or mayhap his guard fell, Avaline nudged a probing question into the silence.

"How long have you been at sea, Freddie?"

The cook looked up from the pork loin. "It be nigh on nineteen winters now. Me started afore me ears were dry."

"Like Elias?"

"The Weymouth lad." Freddie shook his head and clicked his tongue. "That be a sorry tale."

Avaline creased her brow, and her blade stilled. "What do you mean?"

"He be parentless. His black-hearted stepfather did in his mum and then cast him off penniless. He scraped by on the streets of Nassau when Capt'n Hainsworth stumbled across 'im."

"And he just offered him a job on board the Ranger ?"

"Nay, not straight off. We were about to weigh anchor, pressed for time, and the captain had to choose whether to leave 'im behind or take 'im along. He hadn't the guts to leave 'im. He offered 'im a spot to lay his head on board 'til we reached the next port, but it came to pass that we didn't dock for weeks and 'ere he is till this day."

A pang of regret shot through her chest. If Hainsworth had shown mercy to an orphaned stranger, his soul couldn't be as black as she had deemed.

"And Captain Hainsworth?" She glanced at Freddie to gauge his reaction to her prodding. "How did he become a privateer?"

"Arr, that also be a woeful tale," Freddie muttered. "He was betrayed, he was, by his own."

With a surge of fury, he thwacked his cleaver with such force that Avaline jolted.

"Betrayed by his own?" A cold flutter spread inside her. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Dreadful it was. Despicable."

"Is Captain Hainsworth English? Did Lord Francis Ashcroft betray him?"

"Me lips be sealed on that matter. The captain's affairs be the captain's affairs." He shook his head and hacked the cleaver down on the meat again. "Disgraceful and vile it was," he muttered as if to himself.

Avaline silenced her queries, but her mind raced with thoughts as she tossed the cabbage into the pot with the pork. If his compatriots had sold out Hainsworth, and he hailed from England, as she suspected, he could have been wronged by Francis. That would explain his thirst for vengeance.

But how was Lord Francis involved? How did they know each other, and what could Lord Francis possibly have done to warrant the abduction of his betrothed? Why would Lord Francis betray his countryman?

Avaline's thoughts consumed her until seven bells broke the spell and jerked her spoon out of her hand. It clattered onto the stove, hissing like a snake.

"Hoy! Be ye fine there, lass?" Freddie looked up from the simmering pot of porridge that he tended.

"Yes, I'm fine." Avaline ran a hand across her damp forehead.

Moments later, the forenoon watch flooded the galley. Avaline scanned the hungry crowd for the captain's face, but he hadn't joined his crew for the meal.

And what reason would she have to seek him out?

Simply to keep tabs on his movements. To avoid any unexpected encounters.

Her mind spun back to the night, or rather the morning. A warm flush crept up her face, mingling with the heat from the stove.

How could he, the man who had stolen her away, the man who scorned her, stir such feelings in her? Was it his person that affected her, or was it caused by being so intimate with his gender?

The kisses she had shared with a couple of the Hawthorn village boys had never sparked such a blaze within her as the feeling of Captain Hainsworth's body next to hers did.

Eight bells chimed across the ship and signaled the end of the morning watch. Soon thereafter, the guard made their way down the hatch and filled the galley, but again, the captain shunned the meal.

What kept him so busy that he couldn't spare a moment for the only warm meal of the day?

She scolded herself for her wandering mind. As Freddie had implied, the captain's affairs were no concern of hers.

Avaline dished out the food next to Freddie.

"Here you go." She smiled at Mr. Scott and handed him a plate laden with meat and cabbage. "I trust the fare will please you."

He raised the corner of his lips in a charming beam. "How could I resist such a delicacy served by the most beautiful woman on the high seas?"

"Why, thank you, but this isn't my doing. I only sliced the cabbage and stirred the pot."

He bent forward, steam from the simmering food wafting by his visage like a mysterious veil hiding his secrets. "The mere sight of you elevates this feast to a celestial level."

She lowered her eyes and smiled shyly. "You're too kind."

He flashed her a wink, and she traced his movements with her gaze until he settled in his seat. She shifted her eyes from Mr. Scott, and the smile pulling at her lips stiffened.

Hainsworth loomed in the doorway, studying her with a probing look. The tight line of his mouth suggested he was furious, but the way his brows furrowed softened the impression.

He walked over to the stove.

"Ahoy, Capt'n." Freddie greeted and ladled the porridge into a wooden bowl, which he handed to Avaline.

Hainsworth acknowledged him with a nod.

The vision of the captain sleeping beside her banished all other thoughts from her mind.

Avaline's hands shook as she took the captain's bowl and scooped up some cabbage and pork. She extended the meal to him, averting her eyes, but she sensed his scrutinizing gaze dwell on her features.

The prattle from the sailors faded into a distant hum, drowned out by the blood pulsing in her ears.

He said nothing; he just took the bowl she offered and found a seat among his crew. He devoured the meal and seemed to relish the company of the men around him, and when he cracked a few smiles, she found herself studying him beneath her lashes, drawn to the boyish pull at his lips.

As the last person, Elias joined the morning guard for the first meal, face pale and puffy, his eyes at half-mast, and the white mess on his head lopsided from his slumber. He looked like he wanted to crawl back into his hammock.

"Good morning, Elias." Avaline settled on the bench next to him with her fare. Though she sat away from Captain Hainsworth, she felt his gaze searing her back like a branding iron. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," he croaked with a groggy voice, belched loudly, and attacked his platter as if he expected someone to snatch it away at any moment.

She dug into her meal, savoring the salty pork, surprised at how well the unconventional porridge and pork stew with cabbage blended.

The boy devoted himself to the meal. Avaline noticed how he cast stolen glances at her, and she sensed a longing in him for something he couldn't find on a pirate ship.

"I would be keen to understand your duties on board the Ranger ," Avaline said over the friendly prattle of voices, sending him a smile.

He gulped down the morsel he was gnawing on. "I tend to the galley and the grand cabin, scrub the decks, and deliver messages. And in the last battle, I was responsible for the gunpowder."

"The gunpowder?" She forced herself to conceal her disapproval.

"Yes, miss." Elias bobbed his head. "The captain trusts me to handle it."

"I see." Best to ignore that topic. "And then you train to become an able seaman?"

"Mm-hm. One day, I'll have my own ship!" He was so thrilled by the idea that a morsel of pork flew from his mouth and landed on the table next to her platter. His eyes darted from the morsel to her, ears turning red, and he looked like he wished the floor to open and swallow him in that very instant. "Dammit!"

Avaline smiled. "Don't worry about it. It happens."

Elias finished his meal before Avaline made a dent in her plate. "You quite like Captain Hainsworth, don't you?"

"Why, yes," Elias nodded. "He has been kind to me. Much kinder than…" His eyes flickered, and his words died out.

Kinder than his stepfather? She chose not to pursue the matter, not wanting to instigate unpleasant memories. "And how long have you sailed with the Ranger ?"

"Not long, miss. Nigh on half a year."

Avaline nodded. "And what is it you like most about being at sea?"

Elias thought for a beat, nibbling at his lower lip. "I like it when Captain Hainsworth teaches me new things."

"About sailing?"

Elias sat up in his seat, his tired face wiped away. "Yes, and about other things. He has read many books. I enjoy his tales of the worlds he visits through the written words."

Avaline's brows rose, and she regarded how the boy's eyes lit up when he spoke about the books. "Elias, do you know how to read?"

"N-no, ma'am. I mean, miss." Crimson spread from his throat to his ears.

"That's all right," she said quickly. "Not many boys your age do. If you can find time from your duties, I'd be delighted to teach you how to read if you wish."

Elias's eyes opened wide like the heart of a blooming flower in sunlight. "Are you sure?" He swept his gaze across the galley as if afraid someone had overheard her proposition or his enthusiastic response.

"Absolutely."

"Why, yes! I would like that very much."

"Ahoy, ye swab!" the sailor next to Elias barked. "Simmer down, will ye?"

Elias cringed in his seat, but the harsh rebuke didn't dampen the thrill in his eyes. Avaline's chest tightened.

That poor boy. What kind of future did he have?