think of that, now, did ye, Capt’n?’ Gidley’s cheeks puffed with humour.
Her dark eyes challenged Benjamin. But even if she pointed a flintlock at his heart, he was not moving.
Without the stones Melina claimed to have found buried just below the land’s surface, it would be a decade or more before he could hope to buy his brother’s share of the ship. By then the Ascalon’s hull would be ravaged by sea worms.
And his sister-by-law desperately wanted the stones—claimed the face resembled her mother and believed, in some long-ago time, a member of her family had posed for it.
He didn’t care who’d posed for the rocks—they were stone. Colourless. Lifeless. Bland. But if collecting mouse whiskers from the island would get him his ship, he’d be hunting mice. He would take on the whole island if he had to in order to get his Ascalon.
He’d been told by Gidley many times that fortune had favoured Benjamin his looks and kicked Gid in the teeth. Benjamin had hardly passed his sixteenth year when Gid had suggested Ben give a tavern wench a most indelicate proposition and a smile, and see what happened. Ben had assured Gidley that no woman would accept such a brash offer. He delivered the words and was half in love by morning when Gid had thumped on the wench’s door to awaken Ben. For the whole of the next voyage, Gid had ducked his eyes, shook his head and grumbled about the fates. Ben had grinned back at him each time.
Benjamin watched Thessa, then he smiled.
Her eyes narrowed and she took a step back.
Gidley’s snigger did not hide well under the cough.
Ben changed tactics and then clasped Gidley’s shoulder. ‘My first mate is superstitious. And he believes, if he casts his eyes on this stone woman, our vessel will be protected from storms.’
She looked as if they’d just suggested she collect all the mice whiskers in the world.
‘Wouldn’t hurt,’ Gid said. He patted the decades-old waistcoat he’d worn in anticipation of impressing the females on the island and lifted the hem and pulled a handkerchief from his waistband. The handkerchief probably hadn’t started out as the colour of wet sand. ‘Thought if I could wipe her face with this, I’d have a protection from all them evil spirits been chasin’ us here.’
Gid waved the cloth with a flourish and Ben jerked his head back, dodging a not-so-innocent snap of the fabric. The rag smelled as if Gidley had been washing his feet with it although Ben knew that wasn’t possible.
Ben turned to Gidley and glared, before softening his stance and appraising the woman again. She would not slow him down. He had a cargo waiting to be loaded in England and needed to leave Melos quickly. Though his ship was not one of the gilded East Indiamen, if returned to the docks in time, he’d been promised a voyage for the company. Two years he’d be at sea, but he’d wanted this since before his first sailing. To be a captain, and to sail for the East India Company—nothing meant more.
‘Miss. Think of your sister. In her...’ he paused ‘...family condition.’ He blinked and put a look on his face he thought a vicar might use when comforting. ‘Wanting a precious memory from her homeland, probably to show her own little one what their grandmother looked like—how can you keep that from her?’
‘She left us and she didn’t come back with you. If her stomachi was already fighting her, then it could have fought her at sea and she could have returned to us. Why did you not bring her to say these words herself?’
‘My brother worried for her safety.’
The woman touched the sash at her waist. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Fidi. Snake. That is Englishmen.’ Her eyes challenged him. ‘You have kept my sister and refused to let her return home, and now you want the treasure.’
He kept his eyes on her hand, watching for the hilt of a knife. Disarming her didn’t concern him, but it would be harder to convince a woman who’d just tried to slash his throat to show him to the stones.
The Ascalon was in his grasp. The voyage of a lifetime was waiting and the ship was still young enough to have at least two more good trips in her before the sea took her hull. She was made of good English oak, but even that didn’t last long in the oceans.
Benjamin could not go back and admit failure to his eldest brother. He took in the sandy soil and the shallow-rooted trees. Surely he could find the rocks on his own. Surely. But he couldn’t bring all the men from the ship. If anyone knew he must have the rock, he wouldn’t be able to bargain. He needed a strategy and he did not want this woman to think him defeated.
He firmed his jaw and let his eyes linger on Thessa’s face, but he spoke to Gidley. ‘Melina said it was near her home. We’ll start searching in the morning. I’ll bring the crew and we’ll look at every rock.’
Gidley nodded to Benjamin, the first mate’s voice a scholarly tone. ‘I’ll find it if’n it’s here. Have eyes like a ferret and I can sniff out treasure better’n any ten pirates.’
But they could find the stones a lot faster with the woman’s help and Ben didn’t have time to dig up the island, no matter how small it was.
He picked up the bag Gidley had dropped, aware of its weight, and put it on the ground in front of the woman. ‘We did bring some things, and if you look closely I think you’ll agree they’re things a sister would select for another sister. Not anyone else. She couldn’t send this if she’d been a captive. She’d want you to help us.’
Benjamin had no idea what kind of fripperies were inside the canvas, but Melina had had tears in her eyes when she’d asked him to give it to her sisters.
Thessa didn’t move. He strode forward and put it gently at her feet. ‘She sends her love.’
She bent, reached in, pulled out a parcel and unwrapped it, unveiling a thick woollen shawl. She retained her wariness and trapped the clothing and its wrapping under her arm.
Then she pulled out another parcel, but before she examined it, she looked into the bag and laughed. The sound of joy from her lips moved through him quicker than a dive into a warm freshwater pool and he had to wait to come up for air.
She dropped the canvas sides of the bag and reached inside. He expected some jewel or house folderol. Instead she pulled out a kettle and held it by its bail.
Looking at Benjamin, she said, ‘My sister. She claimed we could never heat enough warm water because by the time we heated the pot again, the first was cold.’
Her face softened even more and she put the kettle down. She took the shawl under her arm and hugged it close, letting the soft wool touch her cheek.
He watched. A kettle and a shawl, and the woman sniffled.
Ben looked at Gid. Gid opened his eyes wide and shrugged, then showed a bit of his teeth and nodded to Benjamin. Ben refused to try the smile. Besides, it wouldn’t work. The woman was too caught up in the wool, stroking it and rubbing it against her cheek.
His body’s reaction irritated him. This was a business endeavour—nothing else. His brother was the one trapped by skirts—not him. He never neared a woman who truly tempted him. Never approached a woman who might net him. He was the sea creature. The water was his breath and the oceans his home.
‘We’ve
