Free Gentle Rogue by Johanna Lindsey Page B

whole voyage. The room was as cluttered as any galley, with its hung spices and pots, chests and utensils, and everything was carefully secured to the floor, walls, or ceiling.
    The lord of all this was a black-haired Irishman by the doubtful name of Shawn O’Shawn, who didn’t suspect Georgie MacDonell was other than what he seemed to be. Shawn was a friendly fellow of about twenty-five, with merry green eyes that were constantly surveying his domain. He’d given Georgina permission to stay, though with the warning she might be put to work if she did. She didn’t mind that, and every so often she was given a task to do when his helpers were both busy. He was a talkative sort and didn’t mind answering questions, but he was a new man himself, and so there wasn’t much he could tell her about the ship or her captain.
    She hadn’t met too many others of the crew yet, even though she and Mac had slept aboard the ship last night, or tried to. What with being wakened repeatedly as the men drifted into the forecastle at all hours from their last night in port, and drunkenly tried to find their hammocks in the dark, sleep wasn’tpart of the agenda unless you were topsided with drink.
    The men were a motley bunch of different nationalities, from what she had seen so far, which wasn’t unusual for a ship that traveled far and wide, losing and picking up new men in ports all over the world. Of course, that meant there would be a few Englishmen included in the motley, and there were.
    The first mate was one, Conrad Sharpe, known affectionately as Connie, though she’d heard only one man so far dare to call him so. He spoke with a precise accent, almost like a blasted aristocrat, and there was no nonsense about the man. Quite tall and narrow of frame, with red hair shades darker than Mac’s and a host of freckles on both arms and hands—suggesting he had them all over. Yet his face was deeply tanned, without a freckle in sight. And his hazel eyes were so direct, there’d been several heart-stopping moments when Georgina had thought she wasn’t fooling anyone with her disguise. Yet she was signed on. He had taken her at face value. In fact, there’d been no bargaining with the man, as Mac had found out. Either they worked or they didn’t sail with the Maiden Anne , which suited Georgina, but Mac had given in only grudgingly.
    She could find no fault with Mr. Sharpe—at least not yet. It was on principle alone that she didn’t like him. Which wasn’t fair by any means, but Georgina didn’t care to be fair just now where Englishmen were concerned, placing them all into the category shared with rats and snakes and other detestable creatures. She’d have to keep those feelings to herself, though. It wouldn’t do to make an enemy of the man. Onetended to watch one’s enemies too closely. She’d just avoid him as best she could, him and any other Englishmen aboard.
    She hadn’t met Captain Malory yet, since he still hadn’t arrived before she came down to the galley. She knew she ought to go and find him, introduce herself, discover if there were to be any duties above those she anticipated. All captains were different, after all. Drew demanded a bath be waiting for him in his cabin every day, even if it had to be salt water. Clinton liked warm milk before he retired, and it was his cabin boy’s duty to bring it and also tend the cow that produced it. Warren’s cabin boy had to do no more than keep his cabin neat, since he liked to fetch his own food and eat with his crew. Mr. Sharpe had named all the normal duties expected of her, but only the captain could tell her what else he would require.
    Just now he’d be busy, getting them under way, but that would be to her advantage. Yet she kept dillydallying. He was, after all, the one she had to worry most about fooling, since she would be in his company more than that of any of the other men. And first impressions were the most important, since they tended to stick and