Chapter 7
Seven
DAMON
Ihad to fight back a laugh at the look on Will’s face.
He looked like a kid at Christmas, being given permission to knock some sense into his employer.
I saw the irritation whenever the pissant called for him and made demands for food or the chamber pot to be emptied.
I figured it was only a matter of time before he lashed out.
But my cabin boy surprised me daily with the amount of self control he had.
He kept his mouth shut and his head down, so his charges stayed safe.
I wanted to know if it was cowardice or control that stayed his hand. So when Lockhart made the suggestion to let the boy put the pissant in his place, I gave my nod of approval. Let’s see just how much Will was holding back.
The pissant sneered like he was sure Will wouldn’t do anything in retaliation.
It shocked the hell out of him when the boy didn’t even hesitate.
He marched forward, drew his arm back, and threw his weight into a punch that hit right across the pissant’s jaw.
It was a thing of beauty, and it sent the little shit to the ground, knocked out cold.
The crew cheered, laughing at the limp form on the deck.
Lockhart snorted, shaking his head. “One hit and he’s done? Either you’ve got stone fists, boy, or he wasn’t worth his shit.”
Will shook out his hand, a wide grin on his face. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“Well, you got your chance. Now get back to work. Deck ain’t gonna scrub itself.”
He went back to his task with a smile on his face. It was the first time since he was brought on board that he looked pleased to be there. I considered him, my eyes narrowed. Might just be a pirate’s spirit hidden under all that obedience.
A splash drew my focus, and I smirked as the pissant gasped and spluttered. Lockhart wasn’t just gonna leave him there. A bucket of water to the face roused him awake again. He pointed at the rag the little shit had tossed earlier.
“Get to work or I’ll get the lash and follow you around. He ain’t takin’ your punishment for you. Move it.”
I thoroughly enjoyed watching the rich little prick pick up a rag for the first time in his life. He grumbled about it, and got a boot to the ass when he didn’t put his back into it, but he spent the rest of the day scrubbing that deck.
In the late afternoon, when most of the crew was on the deck and relaxing, I sent the boy to my cabin to fetch my boots.
They needed a good shine, and it got him out of the sun for a while.
A reward for having a backbone earlier that morning.
He sat on the deck by the girls, more at ease while he scrubbed the dirt from my boots than he’d been since he arrived.
A familiar cadence filled the air, Hagley humming a tune as he played a game of cards with the rest. He was the singer in the crew, and he was good at rousing the crowds and getting everyone into it.
It didn’t take long before the voices of the crew filled the air, singing a shanty they were all familiar with.
A few tapped their boots or patted their legs to their beat.
People liked to see us only as dirty evil pirates, but we were men just like everyone else and enjoyed a good tune now and then to break up the day.
I didn’t stop them from having a good time.
They were a decent crew, worked hard, and as long as they didn’t slack off or cause trouble, I didn’t give a shit what they were doing.
When an unfamiliar voice joined the chorus, I cast my eyes over the group.
Not everyone sang along, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if someone finally joined in who hadn’t before.
But it wasn’t one of my crew singing along.
It was the cabin boy. His eyes were fixed on his task, but he sang along, his voice warm and silky.
He knew all the words, which was another surprise, and someone else in my crew asked the question that was burning in my mind once the song was done.
“How the hell does a governor’s manservant know sea shanties?” Salty asked.
The cabin boy glanced up and lifted a shoulder before returning to his task. “My old man worked the docks. Spent a lot of time at a pub nearby when the work was done. Took me with him most nights. I heard plenty when the crews came through.”
“How’d a dock worker’s boy get in the governor’s service, then?”
A flash of something dark crossed his face, and he didn’t answer.
The crew would’ve let it go, they didn’t press into people’s pasts, but the pissant must’ve been looking for revenge because he spouted the story without prompting.
“He came to work for me because his old man was a drunk and got injured on the job. Couldn’t take care of them anymore.
Without us, they both would’ve been nothing more than street trash,” he sneered.
A muscle ticked in the boy’s jaw, but he didn’t give the little shit the satisfaction of acknowledging him. No one else took the bait, either. We all came from rough situations. No one here was going to judge Will for finding what work he could to take care of his family.
The lack of attention irritated the spoiled brat, and he tossed the rag into the bucket with a scowl. “This is bullshit. Everyone else is relaxing but me. I’m not a servant.”
“Henry, shut up,” Will snapped. “No one cares.”
From the look on Henry’s face, Will had never once spoken to him that way before in his life.
He didn’t know what to do with it, and the moment to respond passed without a sound.
Hagley picked up another shanty, and while Will didn’t join in again, his head bobbed to the music, and he relaxed after a while.
Even got my boots shined so well, they fucking gleamed.
For a few days, things were relatively normal.
I allowed the girls on deck as long as they earned their keep and stayed in my sight or Lockhart’s.
Their pissant brother didn’t get a choice and was made to scrub the deck beside the cabin boy every day.
They got breaks when the sun was at its highest, I didn’t need anyone fainting, or dying from dehydration, but the work kept them busy, and less likely to bitch and moan.
Not that Henry didn’t do his very best to irritate the hell out of everyone.
With a new irritation to focus on, the crew relaxed more around the cabin boy.
He did his share without complaint and helped the girls once he was through.
He took the teasing for doing women’s work in stride, and the longer he was with us, the more likely he’d come back with a snappy comeback.
Slowly, he was earning the crew’s favour.
Even Stiles and Davis settled around him, at least enough that I didn’t have to worry about him getting attacked if he was out of my sight.
Yes, I was aware it was them who were the ones targeting him, Lockhart shared that much with me, but since the boy wasn’t willing to rat anyone out, I chose not to do anything more about it.
The morning started out much like it had for the past few days, but clouds swept in by midday and the wind came with it.
For the first time since the children were brought on board, the weather seemed to be taking a turn.
The dark clouds made it seem later in the day than it was.
It was nothing we weren’t used to, but I kept an eye on the children for any signs of panic.
“Oye! Will! Start us off, will ya?” Hagley demanded.
Will smirked, glancing over his shoulder at the crew.
He was washing my laundry in a big barrel alongside the girls, his white shirt soaked in some spots and sticking to his skin.
He was a treat to look at, and I didn’t bother hiding my interest. Given the chance, I’d promote him to bed warming with an ass like his.
I thought I saw a few heated glances in return now and then, but I couldn’t be certain.
I was still waiting for him to man up and show real interest if that was what he wanted.
“Go on, Will,” the little one encouraged.
The fear left her after a while. She was too young to truly know why she was afraid, and as long as Will was near her, she felt safe enough to smile and laugh like any child her age.
He winked at her, tapping his foot to a beat. She copied him with a big grin.
When his voice lifted, carrying a tune I’d never heard before, I felt myself riveted to him.
He had a voice like silk, not as gritty as some of the crew, but still deep and powerful.
Some of the crew knew the tune, if their matching beats and humming were any clue, but no one seemed to want to sing over him.
He captured the attention of the entire crew, captivating them until the last note faded out.
Even Henry was quiet while Will was singing.
“Bet he could spend his life on stage with a voice like that,” Lockhart commented quietly.
I hummed my acknowledgement. In another life, he would’ve been a bard, no doubt. And with those bi-colored eyes and the wind in his hair, he looked like a siren, his smooth voice leading weaker men to their doom.
The wind picked up and the sails snapped and rustled. I frowned, sharing a glance with Lockhart.
“Batten down the hatches, men. Storm’s comin’ in.”
The group dispersed to prepare. Will helped the girls put away their things, ignoring the pissant’s complaints about his upset stomach. He’d survive.
A snap of rope and a cry made our heads snap up. Carson, who had been tying down the sails, now dangled below the higher yardarm, his leg caught in the rigging. One wrong move, and he’d fall headfirst to the deck. There would be no surviving if he did.