Chapter 86: Snip Snip
For a time, neither of them spoke.
The harbor below filled the silence well enough. Gulls squabbled over scraps near the fish stalls while a longboat groaned under the weight of fresh water casks. Somewhere two piers away, a drunk sailor loudly mangled a shanty, making it halfway through a verse before running out of words.
Anne broke the silence first.
"So."
Her eyes stayed on the water. "Where exactly are we sailing once this lot finally gets aboard? I’ve heard enough whispers from your crew to know there’s somewhere waiting beyond Andros, though not one of them seems to know what it’s called."
"Aye, there’s a place."
James watched the harbor with a slow grin. "You’ll know it well enough once we’re standin’ on it together. Until then, it’s mine to know and yours to wonder about."
"Keeping secrets from your own crew now?"
"Keepin’ secrets from you, lass. Wouldn’t be much of a secret otherwise."
Anne huffed a laugh.
"Fine, James. Keep your little mystery."
A shout drifted up from the gangplank before either of them could say anything else. It was followed by the unmistakable racket of who’d enjoyed far too much rum and possessed far too little sense.
Mackerel Jim lurched aboard with one boot untied and his hat sitting backward, grinning as though he’d personally defeated the French all over again.
"Cap’n!"
He reached for the rail to steady himself, missed, then caught it on the second try.
"Ye’ll never guess where me silver share went."
Without waiting for an answer, he puffed out his chest. "Bought meself a sloop yesterday. Fine little beauty, she was. Took her out beyond Nassau’s reefs, gave her a proper sail..."
He sighed heavily.
"Sank the poor lass before sunset."
Only then did he notice Anne.
"Oh! We’ve got a lass aboard now."
He gave an approving nod. "Good. If mermaids come calling, we’ve finally got someone who won’t go swimming after ’em."
"Anne." James jerked a thumb toward her. "Mind yourself, Jim. She’s ferocious."
"Bites, does she?" Jim grinned. "Even better, mermaids hate competition."
Anne didn’t so much as blink.
James barked a laugh.
The man wandered off toward an empty hammock, still muttering about the sloop that apparently was sleeping with the fishes.
Not long after, Edmund came up the gangplank with his polite stride, seemingly untouched by the revelry ashore.
He stopped beside the mainmast and tipped his head back, his eyes lingering on something in the rigging overhead.
"That knot." He pointed toward the main course. "A Matthew Walker, tied the less common way."
Anne followed his finger.
"That’d be mine."
"I suspected as much. Briggs ties his conventionally, and none of the others aboard would’ve thought to attempt one."
He watched it for another moment. "Well tied, but I’d have drawn this turn a touch tighter before dressing it. Once the rope’s worked a while, it’ll sit a little cleaner."
Anne looked back up at it.
"I’ll keep that in mind."
Edmund inclined his head, satisfied.
"Edmund. Captain’s service."
"Anne."
"A pleasure."
He turned toward James.
"I found my brother."
James already looked as though he knew the answer.
"Bert’s drinkin’, then?"
Edmund sighed, "I’m afraid so. I expect it’ll be some time before he stops imagining himself a berserker and remember he’s meant to be a sailor again."
James let out a knowing breath through his nose.
"Aye, give him time."
Edmund gave a small nod.
"I shall see to my gear."
He disappeared below deck with the same composure he’d come aboard with.
James watched him go for a moment.
Now that the deck had mostly emptied, the time felt right.
"Right then."
He nodded toward the door leading to his quarters. "Once we’re underway, you’ll take the captain’s bunk. No sense puttin’ ye in a hammock with the rest of that lot."
Anne stiffened. Her arms folded across her chest, chin lifting a fraction.
"I don’t need coddling, James. I signed on the same as every man out there, and I’ll sleep the same as every man out there. I didn’t come aboard to be wrapped in cotton and tucked somewhere safe."
James chuckled.
"Nay, lass. You’ve got the wrong idea entirely."
He gestured toward the open hatch, where rows of hammocks swayed below deck.
"Here, picture some fool three weeks out to sea, more rum than sense inside him. Then he glances to one side, spots a lass, and forgets every lesson his mother ever taught him. Next mornin’ I’ve either got a corpse to bury or a man with his cock in a jar."
He spread his hands.
"That bunk keeps the peace aboard my ship. Simple as that."
Anne was silent for a heartbeat.
Then a slow, unmistakably pleased smile spread across her face.
She reached over and rested her palm against his cheek. Her hand was warm, her touch unhurried, her thumb brushing lightly beneath his eye.
"Good thing you understand that."
Her voice had softened, almost affectionate. "Because the same goes for you, James. You’re welcome to try, if you’re curious. I’d like to see the look on your face afterward."
A genuine shiver ran down James’s spine, enough to make his shoulders twitch.
Anne laughed first, thoroughly pleased with herself.
James joined in a moment later, though his laughter had more than a trace of nervousness.
"I’ll have a look at this bunk of yours, then."
She was already heading toward the cabin when she looked back. "And James. The first man aboard who starts calling me your mistress gets to find out exactly what snip snip means."
She disappeared inside the quarters before he could think of a reply.
James remained at the deck, slowly shaking his head. The grin never left his face.
One more problem added to a pile already longer than he cared to count.
Strangely enough, he didn’t mind in the slightest. He was beginning to think trouble was the whole point of the life he’d chosen.
His gaze swept over both ships. The canvas needed to be replaced, the hulls needed fresh paint and the crew needed another day or two before any of them could be trusted to climb a mast without tumbling off it.
Nassau could keep its quarrel a little longer.
James had a fleet to finish building, and a stretch of coast that wasn’t going to build itself.