“Only got one leg left, woman, but don’t worry now. I found something to make do with.” The foul-tempered chef glared toward Chloe. But suddenly, a look of devilment overtook his face, and he watched as she stepped over to the pot and looked in.
Judging the amount simmering enough to feed a small army, she picked up a spoon and started stirring. Eyeing the meat, she tried to determine if it was beef or pork. Absentmindedly, she asked, “Has anyone seen Purr about?”
Smiley’s voice held mischief this time. “I was thinkin’ on what ye said this mornin’, Miss Chloe. Figured feline might do fine as a piece of meat. How long do ye think? To make it nice and tender?”
The spoon clanked in the pot, and she started toward him as she heard Ghost’s voice. “Smiley, don’t antagonize her.”
But Chloe was furious. “I told you, this morning, I’ll ring your bloody neck if you hurt my cat!”
She didn’t get far in her advance. A large hand took hold of her, and another connected with her backside, hard. Chloe looked up and glared at Ghost, who was scowling down at her.
“Tsk tsk. Language, Miss Tucker.”
Smiley, delighting in causing mischief, threw back his head and laughed. Chloe pulled away from Ghost and came toward him as if to do him great harm. Smiley quickly put up a hand. “I fed the little puss a might ago. Probably out lookin’ for a good spot for a nap. Ghost, you lettin’ her eat with us this time?”
“Cats are not allowed at my table,” Ghost said with a wink.
“Talkin’ ‘bout Miss Tucker, and ye know it. For a lady, she’s ace.” He turned to Chubs and added in a whisper everyone else could hear, “And she swears better’n the rest of us. Aye, fits right in, she does.”
Ghost spoke to Smiley but didn’t take his glare from Chloe’s face. “You must be mistaken, my friend. Ladies do not swear. If you will excuse us, I’m showing her the house now.” Holding out his arm, he led her away as the others laughed.
She glanced up to see that Ghost was still frowning and decided to change the subject.
“So, a scrawny, one-eyed man is called Chubs. And Smiley is an ill-tempered man who loves to swear. Following that logic, I truly fear why you labeled me Lady Tucker,” she told her escort as he took her down the hall.
“I’ve a mind to call you moppet.” He raised his brow. “The men came by their nicknames before they came to work with me, and I had mine before I met them.”
He led her into a room lined with bookshelves. A large carved desk of dark oak sat in the middle, nestled between two windows, and an enormous hearth dominated one side of the room, a fire crackling inside, giving the room a cozy appearance.
Without hesitation, Chloe approached the bookshelves. This collection rivaled Captain Smyth’s. Ghost watched her quietly. She picked out one of the older volumes, letting her fingers lovingly sift through the pages.
“You like to read.” It was not a question.
“Very much, sir.” She set aside the book she held and picked out another. “Oh! I’ve seen this one but never got a chance to read it. May I?”
“Be my guest.” When she turned to look at him, she found him frowning. His arms were folded across his chest, his expression resolute.
She blinked uncertainly. “What is it?”
“Where did you learn to swear, young lady?”
Surprise in her blue eyes, she realized he was gravely concerned about her use of crude language. “Aboard the Charlotte. I paid attention to the sailors. And I learned some of it at my stepmother’s house. She was good at it, especially if Papa was not about.”
He was still frowning. “Well, pay attention when I say I do not expect to hear it from you again.”
“But Smiley—”
“Smiley will stop, around you. I’ll see to it. And I’d certainly better not hear another foul word escape those innocent lips of yours.”
She stared at him, feeling a bit piqued. “Do I understand you can kidnap me, curtail my activities, and tell me what I can and can’t say?”
“Absolutely.”
She gave a huff and began marching toward the door, but he caught her before she got far. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“To my room. At least, I can say what I like in Purr’s presence and she won’t bloody well complain.”
He brought down his iron hand on her bottom twice. “Don’t tempt me, Chloe. There is a limit to what I’ll put up with from you, and you’re fast approaching it.”
She was looking up with huge eyes before reaching back to rub the offended spot. “Yes, sir,” she whispered.
Chloe looked over the landscape eagerly as he led her outside through the front entrance and around the side of the house. When he took her toward an impressive structure near the back, she decided it was the stables.
Two huge mastiffs came lumbering forward from it, and Chloe jumped into his arms for protection. Ghost lifted her high, chuckling.
“These fellows won’t hurt you, moppet. This is Ben,” he said, scratching the ears of the first. “And this is Mac.” The smaller of the two, although not by much, got up on its hind paws, reaching his shoulders and trying to lick Chloe’s face.
Tentatively, she reached out to pet them, but their heads were huge.
“Down, boys,” Ghost said, amused.
Chloe was amazed when both of them dropped to sit at his feet, wagging their tails.
“They obey quite well,” she said, grinning.
He gestured to a man coming out of the one of the stalls, and she looked up.
“Tiny, meet little miss Chloe.”
Chloe looked up to see a man who weighed nearly three hundred pounds, if he weighed an ounce, grinning down at her. He was larger than life, and a warm smile lit his expression. He pulled off a hat and bent at the waist. “Aye. Welcome to ye, little miss Chloe.”
Flustered, she replied without thinking, “Good evening.” Chloe grinned back enthusiastically. “Or is it afternoon? You take care of the horses, sir?”
He laughed. “More often as not, they take care of me. Talk to me, they do. Sometimes, I try to talk back, but their language be too fine to pull it off. They put up with me.” He chuckled. “Treat me like another stallion nosin’ about the stalls, they do. But I have it better. They offer to share their food with me, but mine is a might tastier.” He patted his huge belly and gave a loud laugh that made it shake.
Suddenly, his face became serious. “And—dinner calls all the way out here. Althea best have saved me a share. Chubs don’t look it, but he can out-eat all the rest of us. And Smiley’s a good cook.”
“Smiley,” she said, with a scowl, “tried to make me think he’d put my cat in the soup pot. But then he said she might be out here. I don’t suppose you’ve seen her?”
“She’s yer kitten? Pretty little thing. Came out to meet me, earlier. What’s her name?”
Finally, Chloe thought. Someone who appreciated her pet. “Officially, she is named Purrsnickety. But I didn’t label her with such an unflattering name. The sailors on the ship where she was born did. They claimed she was lazy and a bit snooty. I call her Purr. Thank you, by the way. You’re the only one in the house who knew she’s a female.”
Wiping his large, meaty hands on his work clothes, he explained, “Gave me a lecture on that, she did. A bit unhappy I thought her a male. Wouldna tell me her name ‘cause o’ my insult.”
Chloe laughed uncertainly, but he continued. “You think I jest? Won’t tell you what she said. Ghost insists yer a lady.”
Chloe glanced back toward Ghost who was watching the exchange quietly while leaning against the edge of the stable. “Ghost doesn’t know me,” she said. But her words earned her a glare of disapproval from her host.
“Ah, now. Ghost is never wrong,” Tiny insisted.
Chloe shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Everyone here seems to think so, don’t they?”
He patted his belly. “Hope you join us for supper tonight, Miss Chloe. Ain’t much keeps
me from dinnertime.”
She looked up at Ghost. His eyes were crinkling at the corners. He sent Tiny a knowing look. “Nothing much keeps you from food, Tiny. Come along, young lady. We should be returning.”
Waving at Tiny, Chloe put her arm through Ghost’s as he led her away from the stables and back toward the front of the house. She grinned back over her shoulder at the large man tossing huge bales of hay as if they were nothing.
“I like Tiny. He has character. Is there time to visit a least one more place, before we have to go back?”
His brown eyes twinkled when he answered her. “Yes, and I know just where you want to go. Come with me.”
Once inside the house, Chloe held tight to Ghost’s arm as he led her down a long, darkened hallway and out a door. She gasped and let go, delighted at what she saw outside. They were in a courtyard, shaded by trees, and full of herbs and flowers. An iron bench stood in the middle, overlooking the garden.
But she ignored the bench completely. Immediately, she moved out into the greenery, looking down and delicately fingering the herbs she found there. Soft murmurings escaped her lips as she identified them, one by one.
An angry voice interrupted her study, and the words were slurred just a bit. “And just what are ye doin’ in my garden, missy?”
A week ago, such occurrences might have shocked her, but since arriving here, Chloe was getting used to the unexpected. With a sigh, she turned to see where the voice came from. A soft giggle escaped when she located him—an old man with a frown etched deeply down his face. He was scrawny, with a dilapidated straw hat on his head looking as if it would fall apart any minute and land around his neck. He stood with his arms crossed over a flat chest, grinding his teeth at her.
Those teeth were odd, indeed. If she didn’t know better, she’d think they were made of wood. They had been whitewashed, a bright, almost blinding white and seemed to be ill-fitting. “Ghost brought me down—” She turned. Ghost was nowhere to be seen. “Now where did he go?”
“Ye’ll find him lookin’ over yer shoulder, ye will.”
Instantly, she whirled around, searching for him, but he wasn’t there. She didn’t see him anywhere. But when she leaned down again, this time to touch the beautiful red roses, he fussed, lightly slapping her hands away from them. “He’s here somewhere, don’t ye forget it. And I don’t care if ye was Ghost, himself, nobody touches my garden. ‘Specially strangers.”
Even Smiley had been more welcoming, Chloe decided. She stood tall and took a step closer. Hands on hips, she poked out her chest and frowned back up at him. “You are quite rude, sir.”
“And ye be quite sassy, so there.” He raised a brow. “Who are ye?”
“Chloe. You must either be Gates or Bob. Since you don’t seem to have any keys, I’d say you are the latter.”
“Says who?”
“Says Ghost. But you certainly don’t look like a Bob, either. You look like a…” she faltered, her eyes falling once again on his teeth. “Woody,” she pronounced. “I’ll call you Woody.”
“Ye’ll do no such thing. And stay out of my garden.”
But Chloe was ignoring him. She had leaned down once again and was gently touching the stems and muttering to herself. “Rosemary…cilantro…Smiley must really love you.”
“Shows how little you know. Smiley hates everybody. ‘Specially me.”
“But surely, you share your herbs for cooking with him.” When he didn’t answer, she turned back. “Don’t you?”
His arms were still crossed. “My plants belong to me. I had Ghost’s promise to it afore I come.”
She stared at him incredulously. “What good is having a garden if you don’t share with anyone? Don’t you give some of the spices to the cook?”
“Why should I?”
She stood up, squaring off with him. “Because it’s the right thing to do. Why shouldn’t you?”
His lips were clamped down now around the teeth as he considered her words. “Would it make his cookin’ better?”
“Yes,” she promised.
“Ha. Shows what you know. His cookin’s already good.”
She shook her head. “And I don’t see any medicinal herbs here.”
“An’ why would I put those out?”
“Because, even you could probably benefit from them at times.”
He scowled. “An’ what would ye plant, if it was yer garden? Which it ain’t, mind ye. It’s mine and only mine. Just askin’.”
Chloe took a deep breath. “Agrimony,” she said. When he frowned further, she added, “Sticklewort. It’s good for a lot of things. Sore throats, fever, loose bowels. You need some here. And aloe is another.”
He regarded her oddly, as if surprised with her knowledge.
At least, he was listening, she thought, and added, “Cape. It’s good for sunburns, cuts and scrapes. Your lovely roses have sharp thorns. Aloe would be good to have nearby.”
He was staring at her now, one skinny, knobby hand scratching his chin. “Who told ye that?”
“I read,” she flung back at him. “Angelica is another. Masterwort. Good for digestive troubles, loss of appetite.”
He glared. “Go on. What else is it good for?”
She blushed slightly. “Well…for midlife—you know, hot flushes.” She grinned. “I don’t suppose you have trouble with that.”
For the first time, the little man stopped scowling at her. He threw his head back and howled with laughter. “Nope. Got lots o’ problems, but it ain’t one of ’em. Tell ye what, Miss Chloe. If ye promise to stay out of my garden, I might be willin’ to spare a little corner. Ye can use it for some of them—um—medicinal herbs, as ye call ’em.”
Chloe was afraid to show her excitement too much. How long would she be here? Probably not long enough to plant and see it grow to fruition.
“I believe it’s time to go in to dinner,” the familiar voice she’d heard in her dreams spoke above her head, and Chloe turned. Ghost was standing right behind her, holding out his hand.
She hesitated, and he reached out and took hold of hers firmly. As he led her away, she turned back to the gardener. “Are you coming, Woody? To dinner?”
“When I’m ready,” he muttered.
Ghost looked down at her curiously. “Woody?”
“Well, everyone else has colorful names. I thought he needed one, too.”
Holding hands…
Ghost led her into the dining room when they came back inside. Althea had prepared two fancy place settings for them. Chloe looked up into his face, as if she was confused.
“What is it, Chloe?”
She was frowning, and he cocked his head, waiting until she answered.
“Umm… Is this where you usually eat? There seem to be only two plates here.”
“No. I usually eat in the kitchen, with the others. Why? Where do you wish to eat?”
“In the kitchen, with the others.” She repeated the phrase exactly as he had.
He turned her to face him, wondering if she felt the tingle when he touched her, just as he did. Lifting her chin, he made her look at him. “That’s important to you, isn’t it?”
She lowered her gaze to his cravat. “Very.”
He grinned. “Then, come with me.”
This time, when he held out his hand, she took it, and he guided her into the kitchen.
The crew looked up. They all seemed surprised, except for one person. Smiley’s usual scowl changed into a toothy grin.
“Come in, missy. We’ll scoot ‘round and make room.”
“Wait!” Chubs glanced toward Althea with an excited expression. “Now, can I announce—”
“No.” she shook her head. “We already know them, Chubs, and they aren’t visitors.”
Chubs shook his head, muttering under his breath. “Never get visitors,” he growled.
Althea rose to bring more plates, but Chloe put up a hand. “Please? Let me? Just tell me where they are.”
The elderly wo
man’s beautiful eyes twinkled. “In the cabinet across from the stove, lassie. The flatware is in the drawer below.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
Ghost sat, watching her. When Tiny looked at him with curiosity, he only shrugged and grinned back. A second later, Chloe set his plate in front of him, and the flatware next to it. Hers came next. When she sat down, he couldn’t help but notice she seemed quite happy to be there.
But she was studying his face now. “Did everyone already pray?” she asked, her countenance patient. Her gaze moved around the table, from one person to the next.
A silence fell over the table as he watched. Everyone turned at once to him, and he stared back, from one to the other, surprised. He felt a little hand reach for his, suddenly, and realized it was Chloe’s. Grabbing his hand on one side and Tiny’s on the other, she brought their hands to the edge of the table, nodding toward the rest of them. The eyes of the old men widened.
Tiny, on her right, turned toward Chubs, who looked horrified. “We have to hold hands?” he demanded, appalled. “Why?”
Tiny grabbed his hand. “Cause Miss Tucker wants us to.”
Chubs gave a one-eyed glare toward the others, who snickered at him. Althea took his hand with her left and turned toward Smiley, who was enjoying this immensely. He allowed it, turning toward Woody and holding out his hand.
Woody’s glare was worse than Chubs’. “Aw, bloody hell,” he grumbled, unmoving.
But Ghost gave him a glare back and cleared his throat.
Woody sighed and allowed Ghost to take his hand. “Sorry.”
Ghost turned toward Chloe, who was grinning now and glancing around at the table full of old cantankerous pirates holding hands with each other. Then, he heard a snicker and looked across the table at Chubs. The one-eyed butler’s countenance had turned to merriment.
So had everyone else’s. When his gaze fell to Chloe at his side, she was looking up at him with large eyes, expectantly.
His own expression of amusement turned to shock. She expected him to pray? He stared down at her blankly, before turning to glance quickly at the rest of the crew. He hadn’t prayed since he’d been a lad and Althea forced him to. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember what he was supposed to say.
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