Free The Red Siren by M. L. Tyndall

father—or might as well be. He is just like him.”
      Dajon dropped his gaze and rubbed the sweat from his forehead. He felt like a zoologist charged with taming a flock of screeching, fluttering jungle fowl.
      A bird squawked somewhere upstairs, confirming his assessment.
      When a knock sounded at the front door, he prayed it was the admiral returning home, having discovered his orders were in error.
      “Pardon me.” Edwin gave Dajon a look of pity and left the room as the girls continued arguing.
      “Sir Wilhelm Carteret to see Miss Westcott,” Edwin announced when he returned.
      The white-wigged, sickly man slithered into the room with one hand on his hip, the other hanging in midair, and leered at Faith like a sly serpent.
      A pained expression crossed her features as she rose slowly to her feet. “Sir Wilhelm, this is unexpected.”
      His eyes narrowed. “I heard your father left suddenly and thought you might need company, but I see Mr. Waite has beat me to it.” He pursed his lips in a semblance of a grin and bowed toward Dajon.
      “Sir Wilhelm.” Dajon set the papers down on the desk, feeling as if he had been snatched from the lion’s den. “You are most fortunate in your timing. My business here is finished.”
      Hope sprang from the couch and rubbed her temples. “Forgive me, but I feel a headache coming on.” She nodded to Dajon and Sir Wilhelm and hurriedly made her way to the door like a rabbit under a hawk’s gaze.
      “I shall help you to your chamber, sister.” Grace followed quickly on her heels, leaving a befuddled Faith in her wake.
      Throwing back her shoulders, she faced Sir Wilhelm. “Mr. Waite has offered to take me for a stroll.” She turned to face Dajon. “Have you not, Mr. Waite?”
      Dajon could not mistake the pleading look in her eyes, nor the disgust he’d seen souring within them the moment Sir Wilhelm had entered the room. Did she hate this man so much that she preferred Dajon’s company? He shifted his gaze between her urging glance and the rancor burning in Sir Wilhelm’s eyes. By thunder, the last thing he needed was to prance about with this red-haired beauty on his arm. Yet the other two girls seemed to hold her in some esteem. Perhaps he could recruit her assistance in keeping order at home. Before he realized what he was doing, he agreed with a placating nod.
      “Perhaps we can visit some other time, Sir Wilhelm?” Faith’s sweet smile dripped with venom. “But do inform us ahead of time when wecan expect your visit.” She turned to Edwin. “Please take Mr. Waite’s things to the guesthouse.”
      With a flutter of lashes and a smile that would melt any man’s heart, Faith thrust an arm through Dajon’s and pulled him into the entrance hall and out the door, leaving a rather disgruntled Sir Wilhelm behind.

Chapter 7
    F aith shielded her eyes from the sun as she clung to the wobbling jolly boat. Up ahead, the dark hull of the HMS Enforcer swelled like a leviathan rising from the sea. Two bare masts towered over her as they thrust into the blue sky, contradicting her belief that sloops were purely single-masted vessels. Truth be told, this ship appeared more the size of a small frigate than a sloop. As they neared the hull, nine gun ports gaped at her like charred eye sockets from its side. That would put the ship’s guns numbering at least eighteen—provided there weren’t any more on deck—eighteen to the Red Siren ’s sixteen. Still, not terrible odds if their paths should cross at sea.
      Faith’s gaze drifted to Mr. Waite, seated stiffly at the head of the boat. He smiled then returned his stern face to his crew as they rowed in unison over the choppy waves of Charles Towne Harbor. How she had managed to convince him to give her a tour of his ship, she could not fathom, but she hadn’t