Chapter Twelve #2
“Kit Mortimer,” he announces. “The accidental gentleman pirate!”
They all laugh harder, and although my stomach is doing somersaults, the muscles of my jaw twitch and tug until I give in to the sheepish grin pulling at my mouth.
I am grateful to him. I wait as he fills his own plate, then nudges me from the galley and leads me down to the fo’c’sle with the other men.
Despite being an officer, Billy prefers to dine with the crew.
I hear a few shouts of “the accidental gentleman pirate!” as I walk by.
Word travels even faster in the confines of a ship than in the French court—but I’m not complaining.
Their amusement is the perfect buffer. I allow the men to tease me for my na?veté.
I blush and laugh and cover my face at all the right moments, letting them see that my shock was sincere, but I am no threat.
I sit on the floor with Billy on one side and Trevor on the other, as Tristan sits in my hammock nursing his morning ale.
After they’ve worn out the “accidental gentleman pirate” jokes, I take the opportunity to press Billy for the information Captain Sharpe so clearly avoided sharing with me.
“Billy, how long have you been with Captain Sharpe?”
Billy considers before he answers, taking the time to chew the bread in his mouth. “Three years and a half,” he says with a nod. Only a little longer than Renard. “He’s a good man.”
A pirate and a good man. I can’t help but smile a little at the wrongness of it. “Why did you decide to join him?”
Tristan and Trevor both go a little rigid. They sit up and offer Billy their full attention, though it seems like they already know what he is about to say.
“He plundered a ship off the coast of Cuba, not far from where we are now,” Billy says. “There were hundreds of us on board… the Success was her name. She carried many from the colonies to the Caribbean and back again. It was my second time at sea in her grasp.”
Something about the way he speaks makes my blood run cold. I set my ale down on the floor in front of me and watch his face as he stares at the empty plate in his lap.
“I was barely nine on my first voyage. My second came twenty years later, when my captor died and his son sold off all the men he’d enslaved.”
Now I understand the ice in my veins. Never once when he told me stories of his childhood did he mention he had been enslaved. I wonder why that is.
Probably because I am just like the men who stole his freedom. I feel sick at the thought. I hope that’s not how Billy looks at me. I hope that’s not how any of the men on this ship look at me. In this moment I’m aware of my advantages in life in a way that makes me more uncomfortable than ever.
“Not a week had passed when the Deliverance came upon us,” Billy continues. “The Success was no match for her. No guns, and the crew were cruel but untrained.” He stares into his cup of ale as he speaks. Or rather, he seems to stare through it.
All at once I understand—or hope I understand—that Billy must be sharing this with me now because he doesn’t see me in the same light as the men who enslaved him.
Men who take what they want with no consequences.
Men like my father. Unlike me, Billy doesn’t judge men based on snap impressions—why else would he always have such a warm smile for me?
If he thought I was capable of enslaving human beings, would he tease me or share the wonders of his culture with me thus?
Shame burns hot in my belly as I recall how ready I was to turn and run the moment I learned these men were pirates.
Captain Sharpe was right—they are the same people they were before.
The same men who looked at me with distrust but gave me a chance.
The same men who granted me an opportunity to prove myself to them, despite my being the very embodiment of the system that beat them down.
Every interaction I have ever had with a servant flashes through my mind. Was I polite to them? Did I treat them with decency? Was I too entitled to stop and consider that they were people too? I can’t remember, and that scares me.
Billy sips his ale, and the movement brings me reeling back to the present.
“Captain Sharpe made an example out of them.
He cut them down one by one, and chose those among the captured who could sail to take over the Success.
They renamed her Hope, and Captain Sharpe left the ship and our freedom to us.
“I decided right then I wanted to work alongside Captain Sharpe. I asked to join his crew, and he smiled at me and said, ‘Welcome to the Deliverance, Billy.’ ”
I blink and sit up straighter. “He knew your name?”
Billy shakes his head. “No. He chose that name for me, and it felt right.”
I don’t ask how Sharpe knew he would need a new name. I suspect Captain Sharpe knows a great deal about a great many things. A great deal more than me, for sure. My heart aches. “I’m sorry.”
“What have you got to be sorry for, Kit?”
“I don’t know,” I lie.
“Then don’t say you’re sorry.”
I grimace at my foolishness. He’s right. My words are hollow, and I should have kept my damned mouth shut instead of making this about me. I nod and turn to look at him. I don’t need to say anything more.
He is quiet as we stare into each other’s faces, and then he relaxes and shakes his head. “I’m a free man. I don’t want your pity, Kit. I want to live my life by my rules. You need to decide which side of the system you’re on.”
“You’re right,” I say quietly.
“Cap’n Sharpe is a good man,” Trevor interjects. “He’s a prince among pirates, ’n’ it’s an honor to serve under a cap’n like him.” I can’t help but think back to Renard saying that no man chooses a life at sea—that they are all in it for the money.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
“He is a good man,” I whisper in agreement. I don’t know what else to say, but I know I must say something. I rub my hand across my mouth and exhale heavily, my nostrils flaring as I do. “Thank you for telling me your story, Billy.”
Billy nods and grips my shoulder before pulling himself to his feet. He takes his empty plate and ale, steps over me, and makes his way out of the fo’c’sle.
I hear a bell from up on deck, and Tristan, Trevor, and a few other men hurry to finish their food and ale as they head to the galley to drop off their plates.
I don’t follow. Instead I sit on the floor under my hammock in silence until the room around me is quiet but for a few soft voices.
My opinion of Captain Sharpe has always been high, but I’ve just learned a great deal more about his character from Billy.
When I finally pull myself to my feet, my knees wobble as they did when I first came aboard the Deliverance.
I right myself and gather up my own plate and mug to drop at the galley before I make my way above deck and report to work logging plunder with the prince among pirates.