Free Christine Dorsey - [Sea 01] by Sea Fires

grin. “Well, good morn to ye, too, Cap’n.”
    Jack ignored his sarcasm, which maybe wasn’t a good idea. What the quartermaster needed was a couple licks of the cat to remind him about proper respect. But there was no use threatening it. They both knew Jack wouldn’t have him flogged. Besides, if he were to flog anyone, it would be the little lady below—
    Jack forced his mind from such thoughts. He knew he wouldn’t do that either. “I asked you a question, Phin.”
    Phin gave the rope an extra tug. “Was only followin’ orders, Cap’n. Yer orders,” he added for emphasis.
    “I know very well what my orders were, and they did not include bringing that... that instrument aboard.”
    Phin shrugged. “Mr. Chadwick musta packed it up with her things.”
    “And you had no idea it was there?” Jack’s hands rested on his lean hips. “You couldn’t tell the difference between some frilly dresses and a wooden crate?”
    “Well.” Phin squinted his face. “Maybe I did figure it was that microscope thing. But I ain’t recallin’ ye sayin’ not to bring it with me.”
    Jack could do nothing but stare against that sort of reasoning.
    “Besides, ain’t ye just a tiny bit curious to see them little animals?”
    Jack shut his eyes. “God’s blood, not you, too.” When he opened them again his glare could make even the bravest man tremble. “For the last time, there are no little invisible animals!”
    “But she done said—”
    “Phin!” Jack took a deep breath. ‘There will be no more talk of this. Do you understand me?”
    “Aye, sir.”
    The quartermaster’s demeanor wasn’t as convincing as his words, but Jack let it drop. “Good. Now get below and take our prisoner some breakfast.”
    “Aye, sir.” This response was much more enthusiastic.
    “No, wait.” Jack reached out to grab Phin’s arm. “Give the lady another quarter of an hour before you go.” Jack had nothing against seeing his prisoner in a torn nightgown himself. As a matter of fact, he quite enjoyed it. But others seeing her that way was a different thing altogether.
    And Jack didn’t like to wonder why that was.

    Even though this time a hearty knock preceded the rattle of key turning lock, Miranda expected to look up and see the pirate captain standing in the doorway.
    She wondered at her flicker of disappointment when instead a small wiry pirate stuck his grizzled head in through the opening.
    “Got some vittles for ye,” he announced before pushing on into the room. “Ain’t much. But then when ye ain’t got no time to set in supplies, ye can’t be too picky.”
    The wrinkled little man eyed her as if he thought the entire thing Miranda’s fault. He also waited as if he expected some sort of reply. She watched him nearly drop the heavy pewter tray on the desk. A thin, grayish green gruel slopped over the sides of the metal dish. Miranda cleared her throat. “I’m certain it will be fine.”
    “Ye ain’t tasted it yet.”
    And if she weren’t so hungry, she wouldn’t. But food had never held much importance to Miranda except to replenish her body, so she waved his comment away. She hoped she wouldn’t be prisoner on this ship long.
    Miranda assumed the man, whose skin was darkened a nut brown, would leave, but he continued to just stand there. Now his black gaze was riveted to the top of the desk.
    “That there, that scope thing?” he asked while rubbing his grizzly chin with a gnarled forefinger.
    “My microscope, yes,” answered Miranda hesitantly. She’d just recognized this man as the second pirate from the attack on the ship she took from England. The one who had wanted to steal her microscope. Miranda inched her way between the desk and the pirate.
    The pirate didn’t seem to notice. He was still rubbing at his chin, and now he started shuffling back and forth on cracked and worn boots. “Ye don’t suppose I could—”
    “The microscope is mine.” Didn’t the pirate captain just say as