Within A Captain's Treasure. Lisa A. Olech

Of course he didn’t see. “What is the man thinking? You’re a child. You shouldn’t be aboard even if you could hear. Who’s taking care of you? Protecting you?”

      “Good morn,’ Tupper,” Finch called out as they passed.

      Alice checked her anger. “Good day, Mister Finch.”

      A round of chortles followed as Finch posed like a fine gentleman, raised his battered hat from his balding head, and swept it in a grand gesture as he bowed.

      “Bloddy arse, quit grovelin’ ’n get back to work.” Jessup gave Finch a mighty shove.

      Alice pulled Bump to a halt. “I apologize, Mister Jessup, if I’ve disrupted your station. I was simply saying good day.” Bump gave an insistent tug upon her sleeve, but Alice held her ground.

      Jessup turned on her. “Sayin’ g’day, was ye? Next ye’ll be teachin’ these sots how to knit a tidy cozy fer their teapots. Or how to hold their pinkies when they drink their grog.” He roared at his own joke.

      “Actually, I was wondering if you could show me a few things.”

      Jessup stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes at her. “I ain’t fallin’ fer any of yer games, missy.”

      “No games. You see, I’ve shot a pistol a few times now, but for the life of me, I don’t know the first thing about reloading one. And maybe you could tell me the best way to retrieve my cutlass after I’ve buried it deep in a man. I’ve had a devil of a time with that as well. Any helpful tips?”

      Jessup spat at her feet and moved closer so he could sneer down at her. The smell of his breath reminded her of Rasher.

      He growled low. “I ain’t gonna teach ye nothin’ Stay out of me way and ye won’t get hurt. Keep crossin’ me path, and I be showing ye how fast I ken load me pistol. Bitches die quick as a man. Yer gonna regret tryin’ te make me out te be the fool.”

      Bump nearly tore the sleeve off her shirt yanking her away from Jessup until the man tried to backhand him. Alice notched her chin and pulled the boy behind her. “Touch him and you’ll regret it just as quick.” She smiled into his ugly face. “I’m not afraid of you, Mister Jessup.”

      She turned and followed Bump as he pushed through the small crowd that had formed around them.

      “I reckon you’ll be regretting’ that too,” he shouted at her back.

      Bump didn’t stop tugging on her until they’d reached a short door toward the bow of the ship. He left her only long enough to shimmy up a barrel and snatch a lantern. Handing it to her, he then turned and opened the door.

      The quarters were as tiny as Quinn had suggested. The sliver of a room had been achieved by hanging a bit of sailcloth between her and a storage hold full of kegs and trunks and coils of fat rope. It was only as wide and deep as necessary for a cot, a three-legged stool, and a rickety table, which kept the door from swinging fully open. “Ah, home.”

      A tray sat on the table with some bread and cheese and a mug of rum. She offered some bread to Bump, but he shook his head, looking anxiously toward the door.

      “Don’t you worry about Jessup. He’s just a rooster fluffing his feathers.” She bent her arms and waved them like she was flapping her wings. Bump’s eyes widen. Alice gave her best cock-a-doodle-do and strutted about. The boy ducked his head and gave a little snort of laughter. She pointed above deck and flipped her hand as if she were swatting at a fly before patting his shoulder.

      Bump nodded and gifted her with a small grin before he hurried out.

      Closing the door behind him, Alice discovered the crude latch and lock that appeared to be newly added. She gave a silent prayer of thanks. For the first time since she had come aboard, she began to relax.

      Under the table she discovered a short ewer of water with a bit of cloth hung over the handle. “A bed and private bath? Pure luxury indeed.” She grinned.

      After the last few grueling days, Alice wasn’t sure which she needed most. Food, sleep, or a clean face? The rumble of her stomach answered her question. As she ate and drank the sweet rum, she stripped out of her clothing and let down her hair. Using precious little of the chilly water, she wiped the grime from her face and body. Even the icy water was wonderful.

      Closing her eyes, Alice sighed. Remembering days past tugged at her heart. When she returned to England with Jaxon Steele and Annalise, she wasn’t called back into service as Anna’s maid. They wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, they treated her as a treasured member of the family. She ate in the dining room and slept in her own chambers. Spent idle hours before Anna had their babe reading and riding through the miles of fields surrounding the manor.

      When she’d return, rose petals would be added to her bath. Fat bars of lavender soap and thick drying clothes waited alongside the deep copper tub filled with steaming water. Alice would sink down into the blissful warmth with only her head and the tops of her knees peeking out of the festooned water.

      It was heaven. Yet she couldn’t help but think, standing naked in a room little larger than that copper tub and washing with only a few handfuls of frigid water was almost as close. Beyond his insufferable rules and regulations, and questionable decisions where Bump was concerned, Quinn saw fit to give her what few comforts he could. A lock, a bed, and a bath.

      “Luxury, indeed.”