11. In which there is hauntingly beautiful singing and a proposal #2
“Precisely. I’m pleased you understand,” Anders said, nodding and settling back in his chair.
Hester chuckled and speared another piece of salmon. “The thing is, Anders. I was jesting. My female constitution is far stronger than most men’s, you see.”
Anders blinked and then shook his head. “Women are prone to hysteria in harsh conditions.”
Hester hooted a laugh. “And perhaps my womb will freeze, and I would not be able to produce babies?”
“Quite!” Anders blustered, looking around the table for support from the other men.
A hard kick landed on her shin, and she smirked at Septimus, who had dealt the blow.
“Perhaps I should go home and find a husband instead?”
“Hester,” Septimus growled.
But Anders Larsen was nodding fervently. “In fact, I am in need of a wife. You are pleasing enough to look at.”
Hester stared with unconstrained wonder at Anders, and then at Septimus, who had stiffened, his brows furrowed. Her lips quirked. Had that comment annoyed him? He wasn’t jealous, was he?
“Of course, we all know that Lord Septimus let his betrothed slip through his fingers, but I would not let that happen with you,” Anders continued, laughing heartily.
Septimus’s eyes turned dark, his cheeks flushing.
He gripped his knife and fork like weapons.
Hester sat forwards. Septimus had done what?
He had been engaged to be married? How intriguing.
Anders had clearly hit a nerve. She raised an eyebrow at Septimus and was certain he gave her a small nod.
Permission to proceed with whatever bedlam she could muster.
Not that she needed his permission, of course.
“Well, what a proposal,” Hester breathed. “I barely know what to say to your most kind and generous offer to save me from certain doom, Officer Larsen.”
“You are most welcome. After all,” he said, his gaze dragging over her body, “you are of fine stock.”
“Fine stock,” Hester repeated slowly, her mind so absolutely full of all the things she could say or do next that she was having difficulty deciding on the most outrageous course of action.
“And your family name, is it also Norwegian?”
Hester frowned. Norwegian? She tucked that snippet of information away for later. “Whatever would I do with my ship?”
“It is a fine dowry. I would be happy to take the burden of it from you.”
“How kind! And I should come and live here with you? In this most lovely of places?” She gestured out of the window at the grey shale cliffs, the dark sea, the dead, reeking whales.
“Yes, of course. You can consider it. You needn’t answer straight away.”
“Well, it is a lot for my small mind to contend with. How gracious of you.” Hester grinned like a devil. Septimus huffed a laugh, concealing it poorly as a cough.
Anders sat back and smiled with yellow teeth. “I am so pleased that you will consider my offer and put this silly idea of sailing to the Weddell Sea out of your mind. Excellent, excellent.”
“Wellllll,” Hester said, cocking her head to the side and stroking her chin. “I think I should need a tour of the house before I decide. To see where I would be cooking your meals and where the nursery might be suitably located.”
“Of course! Come, come. I shall show you the house while we await the next course. Join us, Lord Septimus.”
Hester jumped up from the table, and it was all she could do to stop from rubbing her hands together.
She had so dreaded coming to the dinner, and yet it was turning out to be a riot.
Septimus held the dining room door open for her, bowing his head as she flounced through it. Anders led them down a corridor.
This certainly was a change of attitude from His Lordship, though a welcome one.
A vision of his naked torso dripping water sprang to her mind.
Hester’s lips quirked, a shiver running down her spine.
A temporary alliance, perhaps. She shimmied close to Septimus and whispered, “Five gold coins say you laugh first.”
“Five gold coins say you do,” Septimus murmured, a smirk on his face, which vanished as soon as Anders turned his head to them.
Anders opened a door and led them inside another room. “Here is the kitchen. As you can see, it is well appointed.”
Hester clapped her hands together. “How wonderful.”
“Of course, you should have that gold tooth removed before the wedding,” Anders said, peering at Hester’s face.
Hester flapped her hands behind her back and gritted her teeth. Good God, this man! “Naturally.”
Septimus coughed, covering his mouth with a hand, then turning fully away, shoulders shaking.
Anders ushered them from the kitchen. “I shall next show you to the room that would be perfect for the nursery.”
“Oh, her hips—very good child-bearing hips,” Septimus said, pointing to Hester’s pelvis. She bit her lip, her eyes welling with tears of laughter. Septimus was funny? What a revelation.
Anders led them upstairs and into an empty bedroom which overlooked the harbour, the Valour and the Intrepid moored alongside the quay in the distance.
“It’s perfect,” Hester squealed. “I can just imagine our crooked-nosed children racing around in here.”
Septimus coughed again, hiding his grin with a surreptitious stroke of his moustache. He marched across the room to stand by the window, his back to them.
Cheat.
His Lordship turned from the window and fixed Hester with a wicked grin. Her pulse rose. “Before you wed her, Anders, perhaps it would be pertinent to enquire as to the status of her…purity.”
Hester clamped her mouth shut, almost snorting through her nose. Where on Earth had Septimus found a sense of humour?
She faced Anders, whose brow had furrowed.
“Well?” he asked.
“Sir, my purity is—” She coughed, pressing her hand to her mouth. She took a deep breath and squeaked, “—one hundred percent intact.”
Septimus broke down, holding the windowsill and roaring so hard that Hester broke into peals of laughter. She punched the air in triumph and held out a hand. Septimus fished in a pocket and dropped five gold coins into it.
“You stitched yourself up there, my lord,” Hester said as she pocketed the coins and left the room, Anders’ confused face sending her into further fits of laughter.
“It was hard to resist.”
She hopped down the stairs, the Pirate Lord close behind, and shrugged her coat on at the door. Septimus opened it for her, bowing low, white teeth flashing in a smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.
“Smiling suits you,” Hester said, nodding her approval. “When has our most serious Pirate Lord ever laughed so hard? I have not seen it, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t normally have much to laugh about,” he said, closing the door behind them and walking beside her towards the ships.
Hester raised her brows. Surely life couldn’t be so bad, especially if you had money.
“What do you make of their claim about the pack ice?” she asked.
“I did not think you would care about my opinion.”
“Of course I do. You are experienced, are you not?”
“I think it would be wise to wait a month and attempt it when the weather is warmer. Will you pay any heed to that?”
Of course she would pay heed. She wasn’t stupid. “I will discuss it with my crew and inform you of our decision in the morning.”
He nodded. They had reached the wooden quay, and Hester turned to step on board the Valour.
“Hester?”
She stopped and turned back to him. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry you have to deal with men like that.”
Hester scoffed. “It’s not so unusual. And the thing is, Septimus, you aren’t much better yourself.”
“What? Nonsense.”
“Would you threaten any other captain in Havenport not to accept a hire?”
“That’s different,” he growled, smile fading, the corners of his mouth pulling down.
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
Hester hopped onto the gangplank and mocked a salute. “You keep telling yourself that.”