The Pirate Captain - By Kerry Lynne Page 0,150

pouted Smalley.

“Now, now, mates,” Nathan intervened. “Squabbling don’t pay the purser.”

Nathan’s face lit at spotting Cate, and he beckoned her near. As she picked her way through the crowd, the smell of the night’s ration of rum rose amid the stronger ones of unwashed male and sun-baked clothing. Nathan gallantly rose from his seat atop a cask.

“Good evening, luv.” Mirth sparked his eye as he bowed deeply. “Our compliments. We wish you joy of this fine evening.”

“Good evening. Gentlemen,” Cate said, nodding graciously to those she passed.

With a small amount of shuffling, a seat was arranged for her next to Nathan.

“The problem is: we’ve no idea of when she’s to arrive,” Nathan said, resuming the discussion. “If we knew that, the rest would be of minor consequence.”

“Yes, but the only one what knows that is Creswicke,” argued Squidge, a murmur of agreement coming from the rest. “And I don’t fancy him telling us.”

“Well,” Towers sighed, morosely. “There has to be someone what knows.”

A silence fell as each man retreated into his own thoughts. Looking across the faces, Cate slowly came to find a semblance of order in the gathering. Larbolins apart from starbolins, the men were loosely clustered according to their duty assignments, generally in the vicinity of their leader: Hughes, Cameron, Diogo, Damerell, and the balance of the forecastlemen near Fox, Hodder with his mates. The topsmen stood with the topsmen, Chips with his carpenter’s mates, Jimmy Bungs and the coopersmates, and so on.

Cate leaned toward Nathan and whispered, “May I inquire what this is about?”

“By all means,” Nathan replied, jovially. He bent to pick the bottle of rum from at his feet. He started to take a drink, but paused with the bottle poised at his mouth. “Would you care for a bit?”

Devilment quirked Nathan's mouth with the offer of temptation. It occurred to her that it mightn’t have been the first bottle of the evening.

“No, thank you, I don’t care much for rum,” Cate said.

Amid the ensuing disgruntled murmurs brought on by that revelation, Nathan regarded her with a narrow look. “So you keep saying.”

“There's a lot you don't know about me, Captain.”

“Indeed, there is.” Nathan's jaw worked sideways as he scrutinized her. “Indeed, there is.”

The walnut gaze lingered. Then he straightened and cleared his throat. “A man without a plan is a man who plans to fail. Therefore, we plan, in hopes of a bit of profit.”

“At whose expense?” Cate asked.

“Lord Breaston Creswicke…” began Smalley.

“Of the Royal West Indies Mercantile Company…” continued Towers.

“Is betrothed,” Nathan completed, his eyebrows lifting in emphasis.

“Ah, yes,” she said, recalling Samuels’ revelations during his ill-fated visit. She smiled faintly, wondering if he had yet divested himself of the pink paint.

“And so, you're going to kidnap said fiancée?” she asked.

“Exactly!” Nathan declared, pleased at her ability to grasp.

“Problem is,” continued Pryce, less enthusiastic, “with no idea of where, what or when, we’re sailin’ blind.”

The pirates called out a number of suggestions—people, places, options—many of which were shouted down before the presenter could finish.

“’Tis obvious Samuels doesn’t know when she’s coming, or he would have held out for more money else.” Nathan said in his usual cold pragmatism.

“So we’re left with the who, a possible when, but not the where,” sighed Pryce.

“Someone must know,” she cut in, picking up their frustration.

“Obviously, Creswicke,” sneered someone from the rear.

“He never comes out o’ that stronghold of his in Bridgetown, so we'll not be a-squeezin’ it out of him,” Pryce added with prim disdain.

“You can bet your Aunt Maud’s bloomers, he’ll have ’er guarded, that’s for sure,” said Towers, with a lugubrious shake of his head.

“Guarded by whom?” asked Cate.

The men stopped, perplexed by her query.

“Who’s to guard her?” she repeated. Looking from face to face, she came around to Nathan.

“Probably the Marines,” he said, squinting speculatively. “What have you in that lovely mind?”

“If the Marines are to guard her,” she began slowly, picking through her line of logic. “Then wouldn’t it follow that the Marines would know when she’s to arrive?”

The men exchanged glances, uncertain. Nathan looked thoughtfully at the deck between his feet.

“Just ask the Marines?” Nathan asked, looking up dubiously from the corner of his eye.

Cate was a bit taken back at their failure to see the strength of her point. “Certainly. Why not? You could learn everything you need.”

Pirates weren’t shy about expressing their misgivings, and did so with verve then.

“But how do we do that?” Chin’s voice finally rose over the others.

“Kidnap one,” someone shouted from the shadowy reaches, eliciting a