shrugged.
‘You need to be careful. The Lieutenant is a powerful man.’
‘He’s also rude and so far up his own...’ Will trailed off.
Mia giggled, ‘You forget I grew up with prostitutes and sailors and gutter rats. A little bit of bad language isn’t going to offend me.’
Despite what she said, Mia was quite pleased Will had stopped himself. She might be used to foul language, but she wanted his respect. It wouldn’t be a bad thing if he treated her like a lady rather than the commoner she was.
‘So where are we going?’ Mia asked cheerfully. She was pleased to be back on dry land. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the sea, but like many who lived in the Caribbean she was wary of the sudden changes in temperament. One minute the sky could be blue and the sea calm, the next the clouds would roll in and the sea would swallow anything and everything.
‘I have a source, an acquaintance of a friend of a friend of a friend, who might have some information.’
‘What kind of information?’ Mia asked.
‘He was once a member of your brother’s crew, got thrown out a few years ago for some transgression or another.’
‘How do you know he’ll tell you the truth?’
‘I don’t. But apparently when they threw him out they were actually trying to kill him, so he has little reason to stay loyal.’
They walked in silence for a minute or two. Mia enjoyed the lively sights and sounds of the port. Women in brightly coloured dresses flirted with the sailors. Voices shouting instructions for the unloading of the ships merged with the shrieks of young children as they ran excitedly from berth to berth. The exotic aroma of spices masked the underlying stench of filth which rose from beneath their feet.
They ambled slowly through the maze of streets that made up Port Royal. Although Mia had never been to Jamaica before, she knew it by reputation. Not long ago Port Royal had been a hotbed of crime and prostitution and pirate activity. The new Governor sent from England had taken a tough stance on piracy and it was rumoured twenty people were hanged a day for piracy-related activities. However, no amount of policy from the Governor could change the people of Port Royal, so the prostitutes and the crime remained and the pirates were just driven a little deeper underground.
A young girl of no more than four sidled up to them as they walked further into the town.
‘Spare a coin to feed a hungry child,’ she said angelically.
Mia grinned. She had played the same scam numerous times with her brother. Identify the victims, send the sweet girl to entice them to remove their purse from their clothing and distract them whilst the older sibling snatches the purse and runs.
‘I wonder who you’re working with?’ Will said, looking around.
Mia was impressed. There weren’t many people who saw the scam for what it was the first time round.
‘That little ragamuffin over there,’ Mia said with a grin.
The girl froze for a second, then ran off through the crowd.
‘So how does a toff from England know how to keep hold of his wallet in the mean streets of Port Royal?’ Mia asked, genuinely interested.
Will fascinated her. He was a mass of contradictions. Posh but street smart, a hunter of pirates but compassionate to their sisters. She wondered what had brought him to the Caribbean and what drove him to risk his life hunting some of the most dangerous men on earth.
‘Now, that is a long story,’ Will said.
They walked on in silence. Mia occasionally glanced at Will, wondering what she could do to make him open up to her. Not that he was obliged to, but she so desperately wanted to know more about him. She knew he found her attractive and not just because of the kiss on the beach. He’d been exhausted and just short of delirious then. But yesterday, outside her cabin, he’d looked into her eyes and edged just so slightly forward. He’d wanted to kiss her, she was sure of it, and she would have let him. She would have felt guilty kissing the man who was hunting her brother, but she wouldn’t have wanted to stop him. But something had held him back and this morning he had returned to being friendly but distant, not revealing any more than he had to.
She wondered if she’d gone too far the night before, opening up to him. She had surprised herself in how freely she’d told him of her childhood and her family. Normally she was a private person. When she had worked for Mr Partridge she’d managed to keep her whole life up to the point when he’d employed her a secret. She supposed perversely she felt at ease with Will, the man who was meant to be her captor. He looked at her as though he didn’t judge her on the transgressions of her brother as so many others did. When he’d asked her about her childhood it had felt right to open up to him. Mia wondered if a large part of it was also loneliness. For months she’d lived alone, with no one to talk to from one day to the next. When a sympathetic listener came along and seemed genuinely interested in her life she was bound to start talking.
They stopped outside a grubby-looking inn and Mia was forced to put her ruminations aside.
‘I won’t let anyone harm you,’ Will said after seeing the look on her face.
Mia laughed. She’d grown up in places like this, spent hours scuttling under the tables lifting purses and grabbing chunks of bread whilst the patrons rolled about in a drunken stupor.
They entered and found a table in the corner, away from the raucous crowd near the bar.
Will leaned back against the wall and exhaled loudly.
‘Tired?’ Mia asked.
‘I didn’t sleep well.’
‘The sea has tried to kill you once and you’ve survived. I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you.’
‘I wasn’t worrying about the sea. I’d have to be very unlucky to get shipwrecked twice in one week.’
Mia refused to let his cheeky grin derail her. She was going to find something out about Will Greenacre if it killed her. He knew so much about her and she so little about him.
‘So what did keep you awake?’
Will paused for a long few seconds and Mia wondered if he might just ignore the question completely.
‘I was thinking about my brother,’ he said eventually.
‘Mr Greenacre,’ a man said in a low voice.
Mia nearly punched him. Will was just about to tell her something about himself.
‘Mr Weston. Please, sit down.’
Will motioned to the barmaid, holding up three fingers.
‘I can’t stay long,’ the mysterious Mr Weston growled, ‘might be recognised.’
He glanced at Mia suspiciously.
Will took a cloth purse from the recesses of his jacket and slid it across the table. Mr Weston
