Chapter Ten

It had taken several shots aimed at the kitchen door to convince those on the other side of it to open up, and whomever they discovered on the other side was going to pay for that.

"Damned waste of precious ammunition!" Captain Holbrook snarled as the door swung open.

He surveyed the two women who stood in the kitchen before him, his surprise showing only momentarily before a mask of indifference slid over his features.

The younger one was remarkably pretty, her burnished locks falling in a waterfall of curls stretching nearly to her waist. Her chest was hidden by the armful of squirming child that she held, but he hoped that she had breasts full and round. Even at first glance, he decided on the spot, she would make a desirable traveling companion for him even if it weren't so, but still ....

His eyes flickered to the other woman. Scowling, middle aged, plump, and hair pulled back into a severe sort of bun. Obviously efficient, but rather dowdy in comparison. However, he noted as he glanced back and forth between the two, besides the color, their sea-green eyes were nearly identical in shape.

Related then.

And from the look of the hefty one's ample curves, he held out hope for the younger one's attributes, which he would visually affirm the moment that she let go of the damned child.

"I am Captain Holbrook." He stood stiffly. "And you are?"

The younger woman spoke up. "I am Tess. This is Mrs. Hanley-Lancaster. What do you want?"

The captain's eyebrows lifted in amusement. Right to the point. Quite forthright, this young beauty. Just as well. I like a fiery disposition. It will be a welcome change from the compliant whores who spread themselves open at the first clink of coin.

He watched as Tess juggled the squirming child who, now fully awake, squealed with indignation at being held so tightly and being prevented from being released to the floor. He witnessed how this young mother whispered shush noises into the child's ear and brushed her lips lovingly against the child's cheek. Noted how such a touch calmed the little girl.

Same petulance. Mother and daughter, then.

He mentally filed this observance away. He'd found early on in his life that all details came in handy, eventually. Already a plan was forming in his thoughts.

"My crew and I require some quality sustenance as soon as possible. Do let your cooking staff know of our needs immediately."

"Well," huffed the large one called Emma, "the cookin' staff is lookin' at ya even as we speak. An' it appears that what ya are most in need of, is some manners."

It was the captain's turn to be astonished.

Damned cheeky woman!

"Why, I should have you flogged for such insolence!" he spat. It was only then that he noticed that in one hand Emma gripped a handful of sharpened writing sticks and quills, their inked and charred tips sticking out of her fist like miniature arrows in a fleshy quiver, and in the other, she brandished a sturdy cast iron cooking ladle.

Captain Holbrook snorted. His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched as though he had encountered something very distasteful. "Good God! Are you telling me that you are the cook?"

"I do the cookin'," Emma nodded, "an' it is my kitchen that ya find yerself uninvited to, an' yet still standin' in."

The captain exhaled a breath full of exasperation. "Well, I'm certain that you will do your best, however bad that might be." He glanced around the kitchen, his eyes stopping momentarily at the stone hearth and the large kettle that hung above the ember bed, and gave a haughty sniff.

"You've a good sized pot. We are hungry. Make the portions large if you please and be quick about it. We've a ship to catch, if you've not already heard. It's the Calleberry, and when we have captured her, a hanging awaits her captain as well as all those who sail on board her." He allowed himself a pleased smile. "Two things are for certain, m'ladies. The pirate, Smith, will be captured, tried and hung and all proven to be associated with him, such as the men on a plantation like this very one, who might have aided Smith, will suffer the same fate."

He watched the color drain from the women's faces.

So they do know something of the so-called Captain Smith.

To their credit though, the captain admitted, both women met his gaze unflinchingly, but the plump one almost imperceptibly tightened her grip on the ladle's handle. The tiny adjustment did not go unnoticed.

"A cook and a warrior?" he nodded toward the ladle. A wicked smile spread across his face.

I must have her on board as well. A fat cook does bode well for her talent in the kitchen, and she seems bold enough to survive a life at sea.

He reached out, grabbing Tess's hand and brought it to his lips. " If anything were to happen and you were to find yourself helpless and alone, my dear, I assure you, I would use my considerable influence and take you under my wing" – and under my bed sheets, he thought – "and your safety would be confirmed." At the touch of his lips to Tess's hand one of her rings seemed to sparkle, its tiny moon and star designs alternating between the orange and yellow crystals. Seeing their color change, Tess sucked in a quick breath, and the captain looked up, his eyes locking on hers.

The merest touch of my lips on her hand has her gasping. I look forward to hearing what sounds I will evoke from her when I place my lips elsewhere on her.

He silently congratulated himself on his keen sense of observation and turned to leave, adding without looking back at them, "We'll require renewal of our own supplies and my men will, under my authority, be filling our ship's larder with supplies transferred from yours. While they are doing so, do send someone out with a cool drink for us while we await dinner and relax in the shade of your lovely garden space."

He raised his voice and called out to his men. "Gather up any and all provisions – food, wine, rum, blankets, medicines, ammunition, and the like – and load them on board before we partake in this plantation's hospitality."

"Ya can't take our supplies –" Emma growled.

"Oh, but I can." He sniffed, his nostrils flaring again, and the corners of his mouth pulled into a disdainful yet haughty smirk. "In fact, I just did."

And with that, he stepped back out into the rear garden.

"Don't get too comfortable," Emma retorted in a low voice aimed at the captain's retreating form. "Ye an' yer band of thievin' scallywags are already way past annoyin' me." Her jaws clenched and she stood, hands on her hips, watching his departure.

"We're near to starvin' an' they're demandin' food from us?" she exclaimed hotly. There was no ignoring her incredulous tone. She stared at the now empty open doorway, thinking hard for a moment, before nodding to herself.

She turned and looked at Tess, holding her arms out to take Hannah. "What fixin's we've left will have to be prepared 'specially. That's takin' into account the timin' that this crew needs fer chasin' the Calleberry. Her voice dropped and she whispered, "Bring me the birthin' powder, won'cha, darlin'?"

Tess's mouth dropped open in surprise. "What?"

A grimace anchored the corners of Emma's mouth. "These gents seem to be a bit wound up. A bit of relaxin' is just what they need. An' large portions, too. Just as the fine captain has demanded.

"Yessir, the birthin' powder will be just the thing," Emma murmured. "An' that captain will be gettin' his hefty portion. In fact, I'm thinkin' about bein' generous enough to supply him with a double helpin'." Emma's eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched again.

"Hurry now, won'cha darlin'?"