The Pirate's Lady - By Julia Knight Page 0,26

the Remorian crew. They weren’t used to women on board, especially not women who flirted outrageously with every man with a pulse and kept the top two buttons of her bright shirt open for a fine view. Of a sudden, every man was on deck, watching as she helped with the rigging, deftly jumping from yard to yard, winking and blowing kisses to anyone near her. The way they’d all sagged when she’d left to find Ilsa was an education.

He kept an eye on Tallia too, but she’d slid into the crew like she was born to it, with no ripple or disturbance. She didn’t flirt outrageously or dress provocatively, not for a rack anyway. Her breeches were practical and not over-snug, her purple shirt fitting but not overflowing. She had a sort of enthusiastic elegance about her and her bells were never silent. The crew had made her one of their own immediately, liking her eagerness to help, her bright enthusiasm and her no-nonsense approach.

She was sitting cross-legged on the rear deck now, sorting a pile of frayed rope, seeing what could be salvaged. Holden watched her and pondered on how she’d known his name, why she made Van Gast’s little-magics itch. Holden didn’t understand those magics but he respected them. They were what had made Van Gast so impossible to catch, why everything had played out the way it had. Made him the rack to beat.

Every now and again, Tallia would look up at him and smile, tuck her dark hair behind her ear and then duck her head again. Holden found he was waiting for those smiles, that they made him want to smile just looking at them. So uncomplicated, not like with Ilsa where he was floundering in deep water with no notion how to swim.

Van Gast sauntered along Mucking Lane. He looked odd, with his hair tied back tight from his head and the few other details he’d changed that made him look like someone else so that Holden had to look twice to recognize him. He couldn’t suppress the swagger though, or the sheer vitality.

Tallia stood at the rail next to Holden. He hadn’t noticed her move. She stared with fascination at Van Gast. “So it is his ship then? His crew? I’m sailing with Van Gast?” She clapped her hands and bounced on the balls of her feet.

“You don’t sound surprised.” Holden was startled at the somber tone of his voice, the hint of accusation. The faintest twinge of jealousy.

Her sunny, open face closed in and Holden almost regretted the words. Except the Yelen were after Van Gast, and Holden wouldn’t be spared either, if it were true about the mages. He’d been a trusted lieutenant of theirs once. They didn’t forget betrayal like that. His only hope was that no word had got out, come back to them. Holden didn’t trust to hope. He didn’t trust the sudden look on Tallia’s face either, swiftly soothed away with a smile. A sly look, a glance that wondered about Holden.

“Everyone’s heard of Van Gast. Most racks would give a leg to serve on his crew, make the money he makes,” she said. “Why should I be any different? Just a shame it’s not on the Ghost.”

All of which seemed logical enough, only Tallia seemed nervous, a dark restiveness giving an edge to her eagerness.

“Do you think I could meet him? Why’s he here, anyway, when half the city is after him? Any man in those inns would turn him in for half the amount the Yelen are offering. It must be something big. Some huge twist he’s on, I bet.”

Too eager, too keen. Holden remembered how she’d taken hold of him, almost pushed him to take her on. At the time it had seemed like simple enthusiasm, and maybe Holden’s fragile new ego had savored how a woman seemed to actually like him. A refreshing change from Ilsa’s bewildered coldness, though that thought brought a wash of guilt. Now Tallia’s eagerness seemed more like calculation. She’d known who he was before he’d said, knew Van Gast even though Holden had been pushed to recognize him straightaway. And she was far too interested in Van Gast for his liking.

Her hand was on his arm again, a soft, familiar gesture that made Holden sweat. With nerves, with want, with guilt. Despite her inquisitiveness—or maybe because of it—she seemed uncomplicated, easy to be with. He didn’t have to sit and wonder “how do I do this?” as

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