Page 32 of A Prince Among Pirates
He is quiet as we stare into each other’s faces, and then he relaxes and shakes his head. “I’m a free man. I don’t want your pity, Kit. I want to live my life by my rules. You need to decide which side of the system you’re on.”
“You’re right,” I say quietly.
“Cap’n Sharpe is a good man,” Trevor interjects. “He’s a prince among pirates, ’n’ it’s an honor to serve under a cap’n like him.” I can’t help but think back to Renard saying that no man chooses a life at sea—that they are all in it for the money.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Heisa good man,” I whisper in agreement. I don’t know what else to say, but I know I must say something. I rub my hand across my mouth and exhale heavily, my nostrils flaring as I do. “Thank you for telling me your story, Billy.”
Billy nods and grips my shoulder before pulling himself to his feet. He takes his empty plate and ale, steps over me, and makes his way out of the fo’c’sle.
I hear a bell from up on deck, and Tristan, Trevor, and a few other men hurry to finish their food and ale as they head to the galley to drop off their plates.
I don’t follow. Instead I sit on the floor under my hammock in silence until the room around me is quiet but for a few soft voices. My opinion of Captain Sharpe has always been high, but I’ve just learned a great deal more about his character from Billy. When I finally pull myself to my feet, my knees wobble as they did when I first came aboard theDeliverance. I right myself and gather up my own plate and mug to drop at the galley before I make my way above deck and report to work logging plunder with the prince among pirates.
Thirteen
I can’t say for sure why I throw myself so passionately into my work after Billy’s words. But a fire has lit within me. I want nothing more than to prove my worth to Captain Sharpe and his crew. I want toearntheir respect and goodwill, not demand it, like my father might. I can’t turn into the sort of man who takes what he wants, no matter whom he hurts.
After logging yesterday’s raid and spending half the afternoon doing inventory with both of the twins, I return to Sharpe’s cabin to find it empty. I suppose now is as good a time as any to try my hand once more at following the money in Jeffrey Reuter’s old ledgers. I pull them out with a sigh and attempt a new method of tracking them, jotting down notes on a page I ripped out of the back of one. Finally I start to see a pattern.
My pulse quickens as I throw myself into the work before me. Each small revelation paints a larger and more detailed picture,until my blood is rushing in my ears and I’ve lost all track of time.
“What are you doing sitting here in the dark?”
Captain Sharpe’s voice startles me out of my focus, and I spin around to face him. How long has it been? My eyes have adjusted to the dark, and it takes me a moment to recognize it is sunset. “I hadn’t realized…”
He chuckles and takes a candle from the sconce by the door, then carries it over to the desk to light all three wicks of his silver candelabra. “Hiding from my crew again?”
“No,” I say quickly, and my face warms. “I just… was finally starting to work out this old ledger.”
Sharpe’s brows draw together as he takes a seat on the edge of his desk. “I thought you’d given up on those.”
“I did… but I got to thinking about them again today. It never occurred to me before that Mr. Reuter’s arithmetic might not have been as terrible as I thought.”
“Meaning?”
“Well… I hadn’t considered that he might just have been dishonest.” I regret my words immediately, because I know how they sound—but before Sharpe can be offended, I slide the book to him and point to it. “See here?” I ask. “Read this.”
“Read it to me.”
I sigh and shake my head. “It’s too complicated to read a maths equation out loud. Go on.”
“Just explain it to me,” he insists.
I am getting a little annoyed now. “Captain. Please humor me. Just read this page, and I’ll—”
“I can’t read, lad,” Sharpe snaps at me as he gets to his feet.
My whole body goes perfectly still. I stare at the book instead of him, trying to sort out how it’s possible that the captain of a ship is unable to read.
Then I think back on all those times Mr. Tydes made a point of reading something aloud in an almost playfully dramatic way, to divert interest from the captain to himself. I think back on how Sharpe would admire my writing but never comment on the content of the page.
“I didn’t know,” I say finally, keeping my voice soft. Once more I have made an ass of myself.
“Let’s call it a night, Kitten. I’m tired.”
I frown down at the page and pull the book close to me once again. I’m not ready to call it a night. “I think Mr. Reuter was stealing from you.”
