Chapter One
Tortuga
Nearly two months later
No one noticed the delicate chink of bone dice against glass.
At least no one besides Josephine.
She couldn’t fault them. With a grin, she lifted her gaze from the hazard table. No fewer than two dozen pirates had crammed into the tavern. Two dozen very drunk pirates.
Now was her time to shine.
Not with the dice though. She dropped off the mugs of ale she had brought over and made her way toward the back tables where several games of Vingt-et-un had started. Her hips swayed with her best sashay and she stopped at an empty chair between a group of younger pirates.
“Is this spot taken?”
The men about fell from their seats to make room for her to slide in. She took her time settling, deliberately drawing out the moment as she slowly retrieved her money purse from between her breasts. They stared with mouths agape. Just like she wanted them to.
She removed two coins and flipped them between her fingers. “What’s everyone betting?”
Several new stacks of coins materialized on the table, and one man fumbled in his pocket and tossed out an onyx sea turtle.
“Turtles are lucky, right?” She reached out and set it upright.
He shrugged. “Not having much of that so far.”
She gave a wide grin. “Well, maybe this is the round it changes.”
He stared at her with a glint in his eye, and she forced her smile to stay in place. Flirting with criminals was a dangerous game, but it helped keep them unaware. After all, she never lost—unless intentionally.
The first few hands passed in a blur. While the stacks of coins moved around the table with each hand dealt, Josephine focused on the cards. The goal of the game was simple enough: whoever got twenty-one, or closest without going over, won. A game of pure chance, they said.
But she’d learned over the years that if she kept track of the cards played, she would have a much better idea of the odds of a certain card being dealt toward the end of the deck and could bet accordingly.
She kept her first few bets small, adding numbers in her head until the odds shifted in her favor. Her fingers tapped the top of her card, a king of hearts. One ace remained in the deck and five face cards.
When her second card came, she lifted the corner.
Ace. Years of practice kept her face passive as everyone placed their next bets.
She slid all of her coins to the center, her racing heart betraying the calmness she portrayed.
One of the men matched her without hesitation.
He most likely had double face cards. The others looked at their hands again and two folded with furrowed brows.
The last reluctantly added the rest of his coins to the pot and motioned for another card.
Josephine shook her head no when the dealer looked at her and her confident opponent did the same. He flipped his cards to confirm her suspicions and she bit her cheek to keep a smug look at bay.
“Well, hell’s teeth!” The other man flipped his cards over with a scowl. A face, a six, and a three.
Though she’d done it a hundred times over, the thrill that came with winning never faded. She turned her face card first, and waited a moment before showing the ace.
The man with twenty looked between her and the pot with narrowed eyes. “What kind of devil’s luck do you have?”
She kept her smile bright as she gathered the coins. When you separated a man from his earnings, no matter how ill-begotten, his true character tended to be revealed. And with this sort of lot, one could never be certain how they’d react—especially when losing to a woman.
It’s why she never joined high stakes games or played more than one round.
“I guess it’s more the luck of the draw. Or perhaps this seat.” She picked up the turtle, tossing it once before closing her fingers around it. “Well, gentlemen, thank you for the game.”
She stood before any of them could complain further about her winning. “I must get back to work. Next round is on me.”
The prospect of free ale wiped any remaining frowns from the pirates’ faces.
While Josephine wasn’t actually employed at the tavern, the owner of the Golden Lantern was happy to allow her to help out on busy nights. When the ship had sailed in earlier today, she’d headed straight there. The work kept her mind from other things.
Things like handsome sailors.
Correction, one specific sailor.
She slowed and glanced out the window into the inky night.
“You’re not still daydreaming about that Navy man, are you?” The voice snapped her attention back to the room as Colette approached.
“No.”
Liar.
Colette gave her a knowing look. She was probably the closest thing Josephine had to a best friend. Twenty years older than her, and a thousand times more worldly, the barmaid had taken Josephine under her wing after her mother died.
“Best get your mind off him. You know as well as I do, if he went after Thorne and hasn’t come back yet, he’s dead.”
Josephine’s stomach clenched. News of Thorne’s capture had reached the island a few weeks after Officer Caldwell had shown up asking for a ship.
At first, she had been elated—perhaps her handsome sailor had survived after all.
But her relief faded as time passed with no sign of him or her father’s ship.
Now, only two days remained before her father would assume the vessel lost and send off the contract to collect his payment.
“Thorne?” The drunken slur of a nearby pirate who had just walked in interrupted her spiraling thoughts.
His eyes lit when the two women and half the occupants of the room turned their attention toward him. “Didn’t you hear?”
Josephine crossed her arms as a wide smile spread across his pock-marked face. “No, tell us.”
The pirate raised his voice. “Thorne has escaped, on the very day he was to be hanged.”
The noise in the room dimmed as the news rippled from one corner to the next. Finally, a man at the next table raised his mug. “To Thorne!” Frothy ale sloshed onto the weathered wood. “And damn the Navy! Hopefully the old bastard took out as many as he could!”
That got the rest of the tavern all riled up. Mugs clanked as a chorus of agreement thundered throughout the space.
Escaped.
Josephine’s jaw clenched. Could Officer Caldwell have survived the first clash with Thorne only to perish during the escape? No. If Thorne had gotten away, the Navy would have thrown everything—and everyone—they could spare into the chase. Yes. That must be it.
Colette raised a red brow. “Don’t get your hopes up, Missy. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”
“Sometimes, I wish I’d never told you about that night.” Josephine began filling mugs.
“No need to take offense. Trust me, I’ve been infatuated with plenty of men in my days.” Colette helped her pour the ale. “I know firsthand how infatuation leads to heartbreak. And you don’t deserve that, especially not from a man who probably hasn’t given you a single thought since that night.”
I will not forget you.
She had not told her friend about that particular exchange. He had said it with such sincerity, Josephine could not believe otherwise.
Was she naive? Perhaps he said that to every young woman he met in port.
A cold heaviness snaked through her belly.
Colette was only trying to look out for her.
She gave a small smile and picked up four mugs. “You’re right. Here, help me carry these to the table in the corner.”
Her friend laughed. “I’m right? Don’t think I’ve ever heard those words out of you before.”
Josephine shook her head and headed toward the table where a new game had started. As she set the last mug down, an arm snaked around her waist and tugged her hard. She nearly fell into the lap of the young pirate she’d won the turtle from.
“Looks like my luck has changed.” The slurred words sent her skin crawling.
Josephine twisted from his grasp and took a big step back in case he tried again.
“Why don’t you head home? I’ll distract this lot.” Colette winked and sat in the still empty chair. She set a hand on the man’s leg and leaned toward him. “There’s a private room upstairs, if you haven’t gambled everything away yet.”
Josephine turned away, a knot in her stomach. Even after spending years watching her friend work, it still made her uneasy. Colette had assured her time and time again not to worry. She picked and chose her lovers each night and charged a hefty price.
While part of Josephine longed for that sort of freedom, she had never dared try.
Not that Colette would ever let her. Like any motherly figure, her friend yearned to see Josephine find a good man—which wouldn’t happen in the upstairs bedrooms at the Golden Lantern.
Not that her chances were higher anywhere else on this God-forsaken island.
With a sigh, she went to the bar and gathered her belongings before ducking into a closet.
She made short work of changing from her skirt and blouse into a pair of soft lambskin breeches and a men’s shirt.
Twisting her hair up, she shoved a straw hat on.
Though she lived only a short walk away from the tavern, walking around at this time of night as a woman could be problematic.
After being harassed multiple times over the years, she’d come up with the disguise.
No one ever seemed to notice a lone cabin boy wandering the streets.
She made her way to the door and slipped outside.
A deep breath of humid air replaced the stink of old ale and unwashed bodies.
Floral undertones mixed with an ever-present saltiness and she took another appreciative breath.
The small size of the island meant one could never escape the smell of the sea.