Treasure of the High Seas: Chapter 7 (Patreon)

Eliza

Lady Harrington is as stubborn as she is spoiled. I was sure she’d collapse after lunch, but she’s tied up her skirts and gone straight back to work. Will and I watch from beside a palm tree as she squats in the sand, scraping barnacles from The Maelstrom’s hull.

“She won’t last the hour,” I say. “She’ll start whining for water, then shade, and leave the hard work to the rest of us.”

Will passes me a canteen of water. “I don’t know. You thought she couldn’t climb the mast, and she proved us all wrong.”

I take a long swig. It’s heaven for my dry throat. The heat on the beach is dry and salty, and the palm tree’s shade offers scant relief. Lady Harrington must be dying of thirst, sweating under the noontide sun.

“She only managed the mast because she’s spiteful,” I say, wiping a trickle of water from my lips.

Will raises a brow. “Spiteful? I’d call her determined. Brave, even, to have saved Red.”

“A single moment of courage doesn’t outweigh a charmed life. She just grabbed a rope.”

“Red might say different.” 

I pass the canteen back to Will, and he takes a generous gulp.

“Nobles are all the same,” I tell him. “Too useless to wipe their own asses. She’ll break.”

Mischief twinkles in Will’s dark eyes. “Care to wager?”

“On Lady Harrington?” I fold my arms and glower at him. The little shit is taunting me. Typical younger brother. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Will’s gloating grin shows his gold eye-teeth. “Are you afraid she’ll prove you wrong again?”

I look out across the beach, watching Lady Harrington stagger through the sand with a heavy bucket. The omega barely weighs eight stone. In no world can she keep pace with my crew.

“Two bits says she’s done before sunset.”

Will spits in his hand. “Done.”

I spit, and we shake. 

Will wipes his hand on his trousers, leaning back against the palm tree. His grin lingers, and he seems completely confident in his choice. Well then. If he has time to make foolish wagers, he has time to work. 

“Don’t get comfortable, Will. We need to check the mast.”

With a sigh, Will straightens. “The others aren’t finished scraping yet.”

I give him a pointed look. “Since when have you shirked a hard day’s work?”

Will’s smile vanishes, and he returns my stare with a steely one of his own. “Since you almost got eaten by a kraken. You’re injured, Eliza. Someone needs to keep an eye on you. The ship’s surgeon, perhaps? Or, at least, your brother?”

I am duly chastened, but I won’t give Will the satisfaction of saying so. That will only encourage him to continue fussing over me. It’s my job to fuss over him.

“Fine. Let’s get on with it.” I leave the palm tree’s shadow and stride toward the ship, loose mountains of sand sinking beneath my boots.

Will sighs as he wades after me. “That makes two jobs for me.”

“Two?”

“Patching the hull and making sure you don’t break any more bones. I’ll thank you to listen to my advice. Not that you’ve ever listened before.”

I roll my eyes. “When, exactly, did you become captain?”

“Three Forbid,” Will says. “You couldn’t pay me enough to do your job. But imagine if you collapsed in front of Lady Harrington? Your pride will hurt far worse than your bruises.”

I scowl, digging my tongue in behind my teeth. What an atrocious thought. Sometimes, I hate how well Will knows me. “I pay you to work, not insult me. Get to it.”

Will’s smirk threatens to take over again. “By your leave, Captain.”

I shove him by the shoulder, and we head for The Maelstrom. She looks much cleaner already. The crew have scraped away most of the barnacles and Penny is stirring the cauldron of tar. It’s foul as the devil’s breath, but I’m accustomed to the stench.

“How is she?”

 Penny stops stirring and wipes her brow. Sweat drips down her face, glittering on her scalp between the tightly braided coils of her hair. “Hull’s in good shape. Mast is another story. She’s sprung halfway up.”

My lips purse in a frown. No mast means no sailing. “Show me.”

“Aye.” Penny hands the pole to Tom, who happens to be passing by. He sneers, but when he notices me, he pulls his shirt over his nose and takes over without complaint.

Penny, Will, and I circle The Maelstrom to assess the damage. The problem is obvious at a glance. A forked crack runs through the middle of the mast, splitting the pale wood like a lightning strike.

“Can you shore her up, Pen?” The answer has to be yes. There’s no cedar here for a proper replacement. That will have to wait for Bride’s Mercy.

“We’ll fish her,” Penny says. “Sturdy planks, tarred canvas, and rope to bind the lot.”

“Good.” A cruel thought occurs to me. Will and I never agreed what kind of work Lady Harrington would do. “Have Lady Harrington take over for Tom. No reason to ruin those soft hands with a chisel.”

Will gives me a sideways glance, and Penny catches his expression. She folds her arms, glaring at both of us. “What have you done this time, Will?”

“Nothing,” Will chirps, all wide-eyed innocence.

Penny steps into his space. “Will…”

His eyes flick down to his boots. “Eliza wagers Cecily won’t last the day. I disagree.”

Penny rounds on me. “Eliza?” Her earthy alpha scent pushes at me, but I stand tall. I won’t be cowed by my own first mate.

“It’s none of your concern,” I growl, pushing my own scent toward her. 

Penny’s nostrils flare, and she makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. “I want no part of this. I’ll finish patching the hull while you fools fix the mast.” She stalks off, abandoning me and Will.

I snort her smell out of my nose. A proper first mate must always speak her mind, but I could do without the extra helping of judgment. Good thing she left when she did, or we’d end up snapping at each other—a rare but nasty occurrence.

“Eliza?” Will smiles sheepishly. Penny’s disapproval has gotten to him, too. “Shall I inform Lady Cecily of her new job?”

“Aye, then see to cutting those boards.”

Will trots off, leaving me at loose ends. It feels wrong to watch my crewmates sweat under the sun. I may be their leader, but my arms and back are as strong as theirs. There must be something I can do with cracked ribs.

Planks, ropes, canvas. At least I can gather the materials.

On my way to pick through our supplies, I pass the cauldron again. It belches foul black smoke that sticks to my tongue and coats the back of my throat. In the thick of it all is Lady Harrington, stirring the pot.

I put fingers to lips and whistle. “Enjoying your break, Lady Harrington?”

Lady Harrington’s head jerks up. She has tied a scarf over her face, but her cornflower blue eyes are ringed with red. Her bloodshot glare could flay the skin off a man’s back.

“Most assuredly, Captain Lockheed,” she says, swallowing a cough. The stink must be killing her. “This is a far more leisurely task, but you needn’t take pity upon me. I have always been possessed of an industrious spirit.”

A smirk tugs at my mouth. “On the contrary—this is important work. If the tar’s left to boil, we’ll have pitch instead.”

Sweat beads Lady Harrington’s brow, running down into her eyes. She wipes them with a soot-blackened sleeve. Her fine gown’s a ruin, but she holds her head high like a debutante at a ball.

“For how long, exactly, must I stir?”

“‘Til we have need of tar.”

An angry red flush rises above Lady Harrington’s scarf. Though her voice is muffled, its venom seeps through. “Surely,” she pants, “there are more pressing matters that require your attention?”

Much as I’m enjoying her misery, I need to gather my materials. “Just so. Good day, Lady Harrington.” I bow, polite as you please, and turn away. My smirk becomes a grin. There’s all sorts I can buy with Will’s two bits.

“One moment, Captain Lockheed,” Lady Harrington calls.

I stop, looking over my shoulder. With smoke billowing all around and her red eyes narrowed with hate, the omega looks like she was birthed straight from hell.

“Is it true that you and Master William have wagered on me?”

My upper lip curls back from my teeth. “He told you? That cheating little bastard.” No wonder he’d been so eager to inform Lady Harrington of her new job. He wants to rile her up so she’ll stick out the rest of the day.

“Is he indeed?” Lady Harrington stirs the tar violently, gripping the pole like she wants to strangle me instead. “Did the two of you agree to such terms?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“No, then.” Beneath the rasp of a smoke-filled throat, Lady Harrington sounds insufferably smug. She tosses her head, whipping her damp blonde curls over one shoulder. “Would you care for a second wager?”

I scoff. “With you?”

“I quite understand.” Her eyes lock with mine, and I catch a spark of challenge in them. “It would be far too humiliating for the infamous Captain Lockheed to lose two bets in one day.”

Damn her. Even in the company of pirates and outlaws, I have never met such a spiteful little thing in all my years. “You think I’ll lose?”

She gives a bitter chuckle that’s more spit than laugh. “I know you would.”

My hands ball into fists, my nails biting into the meat of my palms. I hate to let her goad me, but I will never yield to such a spoiled brat. I won’t stand for her arrogance.

“What are the terms?”

Lady Harrington sags against the pole. Sweat rolls down her sunburnt forehead and her arms tremble with fatigue. Still, she maintains the forward jut of her chin. “If I do not finish the day’s labor, I shall obey your every order, without objection, until my ransom is paid.”

I look her up and down, taking her measure. Lady Harrington is not just stubborn, but delusional. She can barely stand upright over the boiling cauldron. No chance she’ll make it ‘til sundown.

“Fascinating. And if you win?”

Lady Harrington sniffs, adjusting the scarf over her nose. “You shall teach me the basics of swordsmanship.”

I choke on a laugh. “Swordsmanship?” Delusional may be an understatement after all. She’s hardly got a string of muscle on her. But she seems completely serious as she explains.

“I should hate to confront another fearsome beast like the kraken without the means to defend myself. You have my word that I will not raise arms against you and your crew.”

The laugh I have been holding sputters out. “What in heaven and hell makes you believe you would succeed? Last time, you failed to strike me with a potato.”

Lady Harrington does not shrink at the reminder. “No doubt your crew is more experienced with all manner of weapons, but what if we should encounter another monster? What if The Maelstrom is raided? What if a less scrupulous pirate threatens my virtue?”

I grind my teeth. “I would run them through before they laid eyes on you.”

She sticks one hand on her hip. Suddenly, she is the one looking me up and down. “Would you indeed?”

My face burns hotter beneath the beating sun. Lady Harrington keeps finding new and infuriating ways to vex me. If I don’t take her bet, I’ll seem a coward. No doubt she’ll tell my crew, too. I can’t lose face in front of them.

“Very well. I accept your terms. Last the day, and I’ll teach you how to use a sword.” I take one slow step forward, then another. I’m gratified to see one of her feet slide back in response. “But, should you lose, you will fulfill your end of the bargain.”

“Of course,” Lady Harrington says. “I am a lady of my word.” 

I spit in my hand to seal the wager. I expect Lady Harrington to recoil, but she props the pole in the cauldron and clasps her palm to mine. It’s wrapped with oozing, soot-stained scraps of cloth. The sight should please me, but I feel a twinge of sympathy.

Only a twinge, though.

Lady Harrington has brought this upon herself with her own blasted pride. If work-scoured hands are the worst thing she’s experienced in her charmed life, she has no standing to complain.

We shake.

“Off with you, then,” Lady Harrington says, taking up the pole. “Rest assured, I shall continue stirring in your absence.”

I stare at her in bewilderment. I cannot remember the last time someone dismissed me. I am the captain. I do the dismissing! And Lady Harrington is desperately in need of humbling.

I close the gap between us and grasp her wrist. Not hard enough to bruise. I won’t make that mistake twice. But hard enough to stop her mid-stir and make her pay heed. “Never speak to me that way again,” I growl.

Lady Harrington looks down at my hand, then back up at me. Her watery blue eyes widen, and I hear a soft hitch of breath behind the scarf. She can smell me under the smoke. It’s written all over her face.

“Remove your hand at once,” she says, but her voice wavers.

I catch a flicker of something in her eyes. Fear? Loathing? No matter. I loathe her just the same. She won’t have any smart words left once the work becomes too much.

“Good day, Lady Harrington.”

Dropping her wrist, I stalk off across the beach, leaving her to stew with the tar. I’d best get started on the mast, or we’ll be stranded long enough for Lady Harrington to drive me completely mad.

As the afternoon crawls by, I cannot find time to check on Lady Harrington again. There is a never-ending list of tasks: repairing torn sails and rigging, replacing rotten boards, and taking stock of our supplies. I ignore my screaming ribs and throw in for all of it.

Then we prepare to fish the mast. Once the boards are ready, I return to the cauldron. Lady Harrington is still stirring. Sweat drips down her strawberry pink face, but someone has given her a wide-brimmed hat, and her hands are freshly bandaged.

Irritating, but I have no standing to argue. We never agreed that Will couldn’t help. I can already hear his argument: he’d do the same for a struggling crewmate, and besides, hadn’t I started it by giving her such a terrible job?

I grind my teeth, grabbing a rusty bucket half-buried in the sand. No matter. The late afternoon sun shines like a burnished copper coin, and the trapped heat rising from the beach only makes it hotter. Surely she’ll give up soon.

Lady Harrington straightens as I stop beside the cauldron. Instead of addressing her, I take a long drink from my canteen. She rolls her eyes, but I catch the way she watches my throat bob as I swallow. She must be licking her lips under that scarf.

I tip the canteen further, so a trickle of water runs down my chin. Stray droplets stain my shirt and disappear into the sand. Only when I’ve downed the entire canteen do I lower it, heaving a delighted sigh.

“Must you resort to such childish tactics?” Lady Harrington croaks.

“I don’t need tactics. It’s obvious you’re on your last legs.” I toss the bucket by her feet. “Fill ‘er up.”

 Lady Harrington fixes me with another hateful glare. She makes no move for the bucket.

“It’s for repairing the ship, unless you’d prefer to stay on this island forever.”

“And spend the rest of my life in your company? I would rather throw myself into the sea.”

I gesture at the waves. “Be my guest.”

She picks up the bucket, seething silently.

I grin, watching with hands on hips. Every motion she makes is stiff, and the groan that slips out as she straightens her spine sounds miserable indeed.

“Follow me,” I say once the bucket is full. It’s got more tar than we need, but the heavier, the better. Time to put the thoroughbred through her paces. I start across the sand at a fast clip.

Lady Harrington staggers behind me, struggling to keep up. “Where are we going?”

“To fish the mast,” I say. “Not that I owe you an explanation.”

Luckily, struggling through the sand seems to take most of Lady Harrington’s breath. She lags behind me, but manages to carry the bucket the whole way. She drops it with a groan as we join William, Penny, and Scrumpy.

I take charge. “Pen, Will—get those boards up. Scrumpy, lash them on.”

Penny and Will slot the boards in place while Scrumpy winds tar-dipped rope around them. I shove a brush into Lady Harrington’s hands and set her to coating a length of canvas with the same.

“Just slap it on,” I say. “This isn’t an oil painting. No need to be precious.”

Lady Harrington rolls her eyes, but speeds up her brush strokes.

Together, she and I wrap the rough, sticky canvas around the boards. It holds fast, but to make sure it stays, Scrumpy ties a fresh length of rope around it all. He lashes the other end to the capscan and begins pushing. As he turns the wheel, the rope winds tight around the mast, fastening everything in place.

“Well?” I address Lady Harrington. “Don’t just stand there. Push.”

With an upturned nose, she flounces over and takes one of the capscan’s handles. As she joins Scrumpy, she gives me an expectant look. Another challenge.

I sneer at her. If she can push, so can I, broken ribs be damned. I join them, ignoring the stabbing pain in my sides as we turn the wheel. It’s difficult with the deck at such a steep tilt, and I struggle not to slip on the boards. The mast groans under the strain.

“Stop,” Penny says. 

I stifle a moan of relief. My ribs ache in protest, but I won’t let the pain show on my face. Not in front of Lady Harrington.

“She’s holding,” Will says. “What do you think, Pen?”

Penny examines the mast closely, then slaps an open palm beneath the ropes. “She’ll last us til Bride’s Mercy, barring any more kraken encounters.”

“Good,” I say. “Nothing now but to let her sit.”

“Have we finished, then?” Lady Harrington gasps, leaning heavily against the capscan.

I grin wickedly. “Hardly. There’s still all the supplies to load—”

Will shakes his head. “Can’t do that ‘til morning when we turn her upright.”

I shoot Will a warning look. “We need to seal the boards we replaced—”

“Already done,” Penny says. 

My glare shifts to her. “And the sails?”

“You and Charlotte patched them already.”

“Come on, Cap’n,” Scrumpy says. “Sun’s about to set, and I’m knackered.”

I look up at the evening sky. The sun has darkened from gold to bloody crimson and sunk half-way into the ocean, staining the waves red. An evening breeze picks up, blowing back my salt-stiffened braids.

“Look, Red’s already started dinner.” Scrumpy points toward a fire some way down the beach. A good portion of the crew have already gathered ‘round, and the discordant notes of Red’s accordion carry toward us on the wind. 

I plant my hands on my hips. “I never gave the order to stop.”

“You didn’t have to,” Will says. “The work is finished.”

“I—”

I look at Will, Penny, Scrumpy, and finally Lady Harrington. She has abandoned the floppy hat, and her scarf has slipped down to reveal a maniacal grin. “Are you certain there is nothing more for me to do, Captain Lockheed? I would hate to leave any work unfinished.”

All four of them are staring at me.

Damn, damn, double damn. I hate to let Lady Harrington win, but I’m an alpha of my word. Without it, I’m no captain worth the name. Failure to fulfill my end of the wager would make me no better than the lying, backstabbing nobles I so despise.

“Fine. You’re all dismissed for dinner.”

“And my lessons?” Of course, Lady Harrington must rub salt in the wound.

The other three look at her, then me again.

“What lessons?” Will asks.

“Keep asking and see what happens,” I growl.

Will isn’t the slightest bit cowed. “Lady Cecily?”

Lady Harrington draws a deep breath, as though to deliver an important proclamation. “Captain Lockheed has agreed to instruct me in the art of swordsmanship.”

Penny chokes on air. “What?”

Will howls with laughter, throwing his head back and clutching his belly. “Cecily, you scoundrel!”

Scrumpy thumps Lady Harrington on the back, nearly toppling her over. “Well done, Cessy.”

“Cessy?” Lady Harrington laughs too, squeezing the trunk of Scrumpy’s bicep. “Oh, I suppose that’s all right.” Her eyes meet mine, alight with the fires of pride.

My face burns and my pulse quickens, making my heart kick against my bruised ribs. The smug little smirk on her rosebud lips makes me want to throttle her.

“I always keep my word, Lady Harrington—but, King as my witness, you’ll wish you never asked.”

“Consider me duly warned.” Lady Harrington offers Scrumpy her arm. “Shall we?”

He grins, linking his giant elbow with hers. “We shall. To dinner!” They head toward the bonfire, leaving mismatched footprints in the wet sand.

Penny extends her arm to Will. “Please,” she says, in an exaggerated genteel tone, “allow me the honor of escorting the most handsome omega on the island to dinner.”

“You shall have that honor,” Will says. “What’s more, I’ll treat you to a pint when I get my two bits from Eliza.”

Penny squeezes his elbow. “Handsome and generous.”

I fold my arms, tapping my boot on the deck. “What happened to being finished with the both of us fools?”

Will winks at me. “She realized only one of us was a fool today.” They depart, leaving me alone by the ship.

I stare at the setting sun, trying to figure out what just happened. Ever since Lady Harrington came aboard, it feels like my ironclad control is slipping. To add insult to injury, she’s managed to worm her way in with my crew. They eat, laugh, and dance with her like a friend and comrade.

Even Will, my own flesh and blood, has taken a shine to her. Enough to bet against me.

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter, kicking a spray of sand with my boot. I must collect Lady Harrington’s ransom and throw her off my ship as soon as possible. Then, Lord Harrington and Governor Pennyford will be the ones stinging with humiliation.