Page 50 of The Worst of Them

Jack stared at her, waiting for a response.

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

“Thank you is always a sufficient answer,” he said. “It’s hard to convince Copson of anything, and I managed it in a couple of days.”

“Thank you,” she said absently as no other replies came to mind, least of all gratefulness.

He looked at her like he fully expected them to proceed as friends, but with what she knew now, she didn’t see how they could.

She’s no trouble at all when she feels safe.

The sword still hung at her hip, and it occurred to her that she could easily march to Copson’s quarters and declare Jack’s failure to take it from her. He’d no doubt punish his son, but Jack had given her a small mercy tonight, so she would honor that for the sake of being fair.

But after this, she would have nothing more to do with him.

She unfastened the sword and lifted it between them, the blade pointed down. “Don’t let the captain know you forgot.”

Frowning, he took the sword. She offered a wry smile and headed for the lower decks.

“Cecily.”

She paused, her eyes on the door ahead of her. Her anxious, angry heart thundered loud enough to nearly drown out her own voice. “Yes?”

He gave an incredulous laugh. “That’s it? I tell you you’re free to do as you please and you walk off with hardly a word?”

She peered at him over her shoulder. “I said thank you.” Even that felt like too much, lowly as she was. Bitterness edged her words as she asked, “Did you want something else?”

He stepped toward her, then paused. “Have I upset you?”

Cecily stared at him, then gave a dry smirk. The shadows on his face deepened as she said, “How could you possibly hurt me?” Her grin dropped and she carelessly swept her gaze from his face to his boots and back again, as though she could find nothing of interest in any of him. “I’m tired. And I’m not supposed to sleep on deck.”

His brows furrowed. “Cecily…”

She didn’t turn around again, letting her name wither into the night.

12

POOR UGLY SUSAN

The next morning, Cecily woke with a single-minded hopefulness that she was sure would not shame her this time.

Today she would be rid of Jack. The moment she stepped off this ship, she’d abandon Copson’s crew, and she would be free of prison, piracy, and any memory of the long days she’d spent knowing Jack Copson.

On the main deck, the crew prepared to bring the ship in to port. She ignored Jack’s sweltering presence by the quarterdeck stairs where he carried on a conversation with Greyson. She didn’t even have to look to know it was him. Eager to get away, she started forward, ready to help the others—and came up short as Susan swaggered past, eye twitching, hips swaying, and made a beeline for the first mate.

Susan threw a glance over her shoulder, made sure she had Cecily’s attention, and crashed into Jack. They both nearly went sprawling, but he managed to catch himself as she fell hard to the deck.

Cecily cringed at the sound of a loud pop. Susan screamed and quickly rolled to free her wrist from where it was pinned beneath her, cradling it against her chest as she panted around the pain.

Jack immediately knelt, his hands on her shoulders to help ease her up to a sitting position, asking if she was alright as he reached for her injured arm.

An odd, infernal feeling stirred in the pit of Cecily’s stomach as she watched him inspect Susan’s wrist with a careful touch while the woman whimpered and hissed in pain.

Morgyn appeared at Cecily’s side with a pompous grin. “Jealous?”

Cecily tried to snort, but it came out as a miserable grunt. “Of Susan? Never.”

Susan was not the kind of woman one would typically consider a threat in terms of seduction. She was in her late twenties, perhaps early thirties, with pinched, rat-like features, from her beady, twitching eye to her large pink ears—alluring by no definition and by no fault of her own.