Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)(78)

Something cinched in her chest, constricting her lungs. She reached out to catch his hand in hers. “What about now, Gray? Are you still hoping now?”

Another rope fell from stern to boat. He reached for it, breaking their contact. Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t even know what to think of you now.”

“I see.” Sophia drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest, burying her face in her stacked arms.

He sighed noisily. “Sweet.” A light touch fell on her arm. Sniffing back tears, she looked up at him. “Do the hoping for us both, if it makes you feel better. At the moment, I’m just too damned tired.”

The boat lurched into its ascent, startling a little gasp from her throat. His fingers latched protectively over her wrist. The embrace lasted only a moment, and then he let her go.

When the boat reached deck level, Sophia helped herself over the rail of the Kestrel. The light thud of her slippers hitting deck announced her presence to the ship at large. O’Shea and the other men turned to her, some offering curt words of greeting or nods. She tilted her head to examine the new jury-mast—a thin pole lashed to the charred, jagged stump of the mainmast. It gave the ship the look of a pruned rosebush, with a slender, green shoot branching out from old growth.

Davy stood some paces away on the quarterdeck, studiously testing the new mast’s rigging. He did not turn her way.

“Davy,” Gray called from behind her.

“Aye, Captain.” The youth did not raise his head.

“I understand you’ve slung your hammock in the steerage compartment.”

Davy’s glance flicked toward them, and he gave a puzzled, “Aye.”

“You’re to move it to the forecastle at your first opportunity.” Gray rounded Sophia and walked toward the boy. “On this ship, you’re a sailor. You’ll be expected to do a sailor’s work, and you’ll sleep where the sailors sleep. Do you understand?”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Davy’s pale cheeks colored. With a quick nod, he went belowdecks. But not before throwing Sophia a wounded glance that drove a spear of pain straight into her heart. This should have been a momentous occasion for him, his promotion to the forecastle; a day of celebration and pride. And because of her, it was ruined. Davy’s wasn’t the first young man’s heart she’d broken. Nor was Gray the first grown man she’d hurt. She’d always been a selfish girl; she had no illusions otherwise. But this was the first time she’d been forced to bear witness to the consequences. She couldn’t run away from this ship as she’d run from her wedding. Neither could she distract herself with thoughts of new ribbons or exhibitions or the Duchess of Aldonbury’s card party Wednesday next. She had a front-row seat for the little tragedy she’d set in motion, and there would be no intermission.

There was a justice to it, she had to allow.

“And you”—Gray laid a hand on the small of her back and steered her down into the captain’s cabin—“will stay here.”

Sophia surveyed the cabin. Bed tucked into one corner, cabinets lining the other. In the center, a table and captain’s chair. A thin slice of window spanning the stern. Much the same as the Aphrodite’s, if a bit more cramped.

“It’s been cleaned and aired for you,” Gray continued, his tone detached.

“The linens are fresh, brought over from the Aphrodite.”

“Thank you.” She paced to the center of the cabin and turned to face him.

“That was thoughtful.”

“I’ll have your trunks brought down. You’re to stay here, do you understand?”

She nodded.

“No traipsing about the ship. And you’ll keep this door bolted.”

“Should I fear for my safety?”

He shook his head. “Brackett’s confined below; he won’t bother you. The Kestrel’s crew seem pleased with our change of course. But I don’t know these men. And I can’t trust those I don’t know.” He gave her a meaningful look as he turned to leave.

“Wait,” she called after him. He paused in the door. “Where are you sleeping?”

“When I sleep, which I imagine will be infrequently, I’ll bed down in the first mate’s berth, just there.” He nodded toward a small door just outside the entrance to her cabin. “But whether I’m on deck or below it, I’ll never be far.”

“Shall I take that as a promise? Or a threat?”

She sauntered toward him, hands cocked on her hips in an attitude of provocation. His eyes swept her body, washing her with angry heat. She noted the subtle tensing of his shoulders, the frayed edge of his breath. Even exhausted and hurt, he still wanted her. For a moment, Sophia felt hope flicker to life inside her. Enough for them both.

And then, with the work of an instant, he quashed it all. Gray stepped back. He gave a loose shrug and a lazy half-smile. If I don’t care about you, his look said, you can’t possibly hurt me. “Take it however you wish.”

“Oh no, you don’t. Don’t you try that move with me.” With trembling fingers, she began unbuttoning her gown.

“What the devil are you doing? You think you can just hike up your shift and make—”

“Don’t get excited.” She stripped the bodice down her arms, then set to work unlacing her stays. “I’m merely settling a score. I can’t stand to be in your debt a moment longer.” Soon she was down to her chemise and plucking coins from the purse tucked between her br**sts. One, two, three, four, five …