Free Web NovelChapter 13: A Study of Male Weaknesses
The previous evening had followed a predictable rhythm. James had acquired what amounted to a pirate’s savings in coin, then spent the rest of the night proving to himself that people still liked him when money wasn’t involved.
More crewmen had joined the celebration. More drink had appeared. There had been a meal he distinctly remembered enjoying, despite having no idea what it had contained.
At some point, a debate about training sharks had started and then refused to die. The discussion had lasted far longer than the topic deserved.
He had nearly gone over the rail while demonstrating a point he could no longer remember. Two crewmen had grabbed him by the collar before he could complete the experiment. They had laughed the entire time.
Afterward, they had delivered him to his quarters with careful handling, reserved for cargo they expected to make fun of later.
He had woken this morning more or less intact. Given the amount of alcohol involved, he considered that additional evidence that the title was doing something right, even if he still had no idea what that something was.
The Rose cut steadily through calm water beneath a clear sky. The wind remained favorable. The crew handled their watches without requiring his intervention.
Nothing was on fire.
Nothing was sinking.
No one appeared to be plotting mutiny.
That left James with a problem.
His entire skill set had been built around solving crises. At the moment, there weren’t any. freёwebnoѵel.com
He stood at the rail trying to decide whether that restless feeling justified finding work to do.
Then he spotted trouble.
Two crewmen had Meg backed toward the rail near the foremast.
One was short and round in the way a barrel might be if it somehow acquired legs. His hairline appeared to have given up years ago.
The other was tall and thin, with more bone than flesh to him.
Between them, they possessed a collection of teeth that would have looked disappointing even in a single mouth.
James looked at the situation and immediately moved toward it.
A woman cornered by two men aboard a pirate ship was exactly the sort of problem he understood.
He had already begun planning how to intervene when he got close enough to hear the conversation.
The words stopped him.
"Tell me your size."
Meg said patiently. Her tone reminded James of someone taking inventory. "Just an estimate. Hand-widths if that’s easier."
The round sailor turned red.
James revised his understanding of the situation.
"I, uh... three. Maybe four."
"Maybe four."
Meg didn’t write the answer down. She seemed to trust her memory was reliable enough.
"And for how long can you normally last? From start to finish."
The tall sailor answered.
Apparently he had decided that silence would only make things worse.
"Depends."
He cleared his throat.
"Sometimes a while. Sometimes it’s... quick."
"Quick how quick?"
The sailor looked like a man walking into cannon fire.
"Quick enough that I’d rather not talk ’bout it."
"Mm. I see."
She sounded exactly as enthusiastic as a tax collector.
Then she continued, "Last question. What do you notice first about a woman? Be specific. Bosom, backside, legs. Pick one."
The round sailor answered immediately.
James suspected he was simply grateful to receive a question with an easy answer.
"Arse. A woman with a big enough one could empty me purse and I’d thank her for it."
The tall sailor frowned at the question as though expecting a trap.
"Legs."
He hesitated.
"A good pair of legs on a woman, that’s... that’s somethin’."
He trailed off.
Apparently whatever came next would only embarrass him further.
Meg dryly nodded.
James remained exactly where he was.
He had also completely forgotten that he was supposed to be rescuing someone.
The first question had felt like discovering a tea party where he had expected a fire. The second had convinced him there was no chance of guessing where the conversation might go next.
At that point, observation seemed the wiser strategy.
He wasn’t laughing.
The fact that keeping a straight face required effort was becoming a problem.
The round sailor noticed him first.
His expression changed immediately.
He looked at James, then at the open deck beyond him, then back at James again.
It suggested he had just discovered an escape route and was desperately hoping it remained available.
Meg followed his gaze.
"Right," James said.
The word felt somewhat inadequate.
"Don’t let me interrupt anythin’ official."
"You are not. I’m finished with these two."
The round sailor moved at once.
"Cap’n."
The gratitude in his voice suggested James had personally saved his life.
Then he was gone.
The tall sailor followed a heartbeat later. He wasn’t quite running, but he had clearly considered the option.
Before disappearing, he glanced back once.
The look on his face conveyed everything James needed to know about how the interview had treated him.
That left only James and Meg left.
The morning sun illuminated her clearly.
At some point during the previous day, she had discarded the coat and the sailor’s shirt had been altered to fit her. The sleeves were rolled. The waist had been tied up.
The changes exposed a strip of bare stomach above the borrowed trousers and considerably more skin than the garment’s original owner had likely intended.
James found himself studying details he had previously ignored.
Partly because survival had occupied most of his attention.
Partly because this was the first opportunity he had actually had to look.
She had the figure of a woman whose former profession had likely never suffered from a shortage of customers.
Her chest was modest.
Her waist wasn’t.
Neither were her hips.
And her rear could probably be seen as a navigational hazard from three decks away. frёewebnoѵēl.com
Combined with her dark hair, warm brown eyes, full lips, and the unmistakable Caribbean influence in all of them, the result explained something James had never previously considered.
Port Royal had probably kept her busy.
Very busy.
The realization arrived in a strictly professional capacity.
Or at least that was what he told himself. He wasn’t entirely convinced by it.
"So. Research."
"Nassau is full of women selling the same thing I am."
She spoke matter-of-factly.
No embarrassment. No hesitation. "If I’m going to make a proper living at it, I need to know what they’re offering, what they’re charging, and what the men are paying for."
James considered that.
The explanation made sense.
More sense than most thoughts he had recently.
"And the two idiots were the market?"
"I imagine pirates as a whole are the market."
The logic was hard to argue with.
More than that, he found himself impressed by her resolve.
Less than two days ago, she had been dragged aboard a pirate ship and handed circumstances no sane person would have chosen.
Most people would still be trying to understand what had happened.
Meg was already building a future from the situation.
There was something remarkable about that.
James found himself dwelling on it longer than the moment probably required. The question he had ignored so far, be it by gamble or alcohol, returned to his thoughts.
"Tell me somethin’."
He rested an elbow on the rail.
"How’d you know so quickly what you wanted to do with all this?"
