Moss Forest Orchid (Silver and Orchids Book 1)

by Shari L. Tapscott

  He’s like the fifth brother I never wanted. Considering I didn’t ask for the four blood ones I have, Sebastian is almost as good as the real thing.

  But no matter these warm and fuzzy feelings, I’m still going to beat him to the orchids. And when I do, I’m going to shove the money in his face, paying him back for what I lost, and tell him to get over himself.

  “Silently revel in your agony no longer,” I say to Sebastian when we reach Avery’s ship. “This is where we must part.”

  “You are not going aboard that vessel.”

  “Is that so?” I look up, standing on my toes because he is so very tall, and meet his eyes in the dim light. “How about you watch me.”

  With that, I turn on my heel and march up the gangplank, calling my greetings to the man I spoke with earlier. “Where’s your captain?”

  “At the helm,” he answers, expecting me.

  It doesn’t come as a surprise when Sebastian follows me onto the ship, but I still glare at him.

  “What are you doing?” I demand at a whisper as I make my way toward the wheel, box in hand.

  “You know who will be forced to explain your untimely demise to your mother should you go missing somewhere between here and Grenalda? That’s right—I will. As well-deserved as it would be for you, I don’t relish the thought of bringing home news of your mother’s eldest child’s death.”

  “Death?” I give him an incredulous look. “A bit much, don’t you think?”

  “And this is a bit foolish, don’t you thi—” Sebastian stops, and his expression goes tight. I follow his gaze to the helm, where Avery has just spotted me.

  “Lucia!” The captain’s eyes move to the box I carry, and he gives me a broad smile. “You’ve acquired it. Did you have any trouble?”

  It’s obvious from the sparkle in his eyes that he knew I’d find some.

  “Not a bit.”

  He accepts the box and takes my hand as he did earlier, raising it to his lips. “Well, you have my sincerest thanks. Welcome aboard The Greybrow Serpent.”

  Avery holds my gaze for a few moments longer, and I find myself staring right back. His hair is disheveled from the wind, and though there’s a chill in the air, he’s taken off his long jacket and doublet. He wears only a billowing white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The laces are loose at his neck, making him look carefree and a bit reckless.

  All in all, the captain is rather dashing.

  Sebastian clears his throat, sounding particularly put out to be ignored.

  Avery pulls his gaze from mine, breaking eye contact slowly as he releases my hand. I go warm, and my stomach flutters unexpectedly. Embarrassed, I divert my attention to the sailors scurrying about in the rigging high above me to my right. It’s one thing to flirt. It’s another to let yourself be carried away.

  “I’m Lord Sebastian Everette Thane, a friend of Lucia’s.” Sebastian pauses over the word “friend” as if it pains him to name me thusly, but he knows stating me as an acquaintance would be a blatant lie. “I appreciate you offering her passage to Grenalda, but I have already secured us cabins aboard The Sea Star.”

  Sebastian almost never uses his title—and never his full name. Someone’s feeling a bit threatened.

  “Thane, you say?” Avery asks. “From Reginae?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You aren’t by chance related to the ruling duke of Reshire?”

  Sebastian stands a little straighter. “I am, in fact. He is my second cousin.”

  “Interesting.” But instead of explaining why it’s interesting, the captain extends his hand and continues, “Captain Avery Alexander Greybrow. I apologize; I was under the impression Lucia was traveling alone. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how perilous an ocean voyage can be for a young woman.”

  He once again turns his eyes on me though he’s still speaking directly to Sebastian. “I’m afraid I’d foolishly hoped to be her champion as we traveled across the Aelerian Sea.”

  Ridiculous butterflies take wing in my stomach once more.

  “The gesture is most appreciated,” Sebastian says in a tone that says it’s not appreciated at all. “But I believe we have our things in order.”

  Normally, this sort of high-handed dealing would have me fighting Sebastian like a mother griffin, but this time I stand by quietly, not looking at either of them. I don’t trust my reaction to Avery. For once, I’m not sure I can handle the trouble I might find myself in if I were corralled on his ship for three weeks. Not that I don’t enjoy a bit of trouble…

  No. I must behave myself if I want to return with the orchid cutting first.

  Avery turns to me once more. “I’m sorry we must part so soon after meeting.”

  “I am as well, Captain.”

  “The Sea Star makes several stops on the way to Grenalda,” he says. “Perhaps we’ll bump into each other.”

  There’s a promise in his words, and I find myself holding back a besotted grin. “Yes, perhaps.”

  “We must be going, Lucia.” Sebastian has apparently reached his limit for civility. He nods one more time to Avery and then escorts me off the merchant ship.

  As I step down the gangplank, I glance over my shoulder. Though Avery holds up his hand in a farewell, there’s a smile on his lips.

  ***

  “You said ‘cabins’ as in plural—not ‘cabin.’” I cross my arms and look down at the narrow bench that’s pretending to be a bed. The room is smaller than Father’s smoke shed where he hangs a butchered pig every autumn.

  “I’ve already spoken with the boatswain.” Irritated, Sebastian shoves his trunk in the corner. “I’ll be sleeping with the crew, but I’ll have to keep my things here.”

  I have no fancy traveling trunk, so I toss my pack on the bed, claiming it as my own. “You can sleep on the deck for all I care.”

  “You’re snippy for someone who was just given free sea passage.”

  “I already had free sea passage.”

  “Your Captain Avery is a wolf parading as a gentleman. I saw the way he looked at you.”

  I raise my eyebrows and grin. “I saw the way he looked at me too.”

  Mostly, I say it to get a rise out of my traveling partner, but my chest warms at the memory, and I have to look down before I give myself away.

  Sebastian scowls. “You’re blushing.”

  “Please,” I scoff as I turn my back on him. Carefully, I set my new scarlet egg on the folded blanket at the end of the bed. “When do you think it will hatch?”

  “Not until after you sell it—if you’re lucky.”

  I frown. “Weren’t you leaving?”

  He’s silent for too long. Finally, he steps next to me, forcing me to look at him. Then, incredulous, he says, “You want to keep it.”

  Instead of answering, I give him a withering look.

  “You do. I’ve seen that look before—you think I don’t remember the ridiculous lamb you towed around like a puppy when we were children?”

  Her name was Cotton, and I can’t eat lamb chops to this day.

  “You’re being ridiculous,” I say. “And what does it matter to you if I want to keep him?”

  “Him?” Slowly, a wicked smirk builds on his usually serious face. “For all your bluster, Lucia, sometimes I think you envy the noble girls, in their layers of silk and satin, with their expensive perfumes and munchkin dragons and glossy, styled hair.”

  Horrified, I bring a hand to my head. “What’s wrong with my hair!”

  Sebastian gives me a wry look and then finally—finally—steps into the hall.

  I stare at the closed door for several moments before I pull my braid over my shoulder and scowl at my dark, unglossy locks.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Simple Charm

  I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to death. I crack my eyes open, groggy. My stomach lurches, and the room spins. Sometimes it takes a sea voyage to learn a trivial but inconvenient fact about yourself. For
example, I now know I fall violently ill on ships.

  We’ve been at sea for four days and three hours. I’ve been bed-ridden for four days, two hours, and approximately twenty-seven minutes. Out of the entire crew of fifty-seven seamen, you would think someone would know how to do a simple anti-nausea spell.

  But no.

  So, I’m stuck here, in this miserable excuse for a bed, lying prostrate with a soggy cloth over my forehead, waiting for the ship to dock at its first port. We’re supposed to arrive today.

  I groan though there’s no one to hear me but the dragon egg, and it doesn’t seem to care that I’m teetering on the edge of death. It sits next to my head, nestled in the flat pillow, oblivious to my turmoil. I lie here for what seems like hours, but might only be minutes, waiting for the sailors to announce land is near.

  A knock sounds at the door, and I let out a mewling, “Come in.”

  Sebastian steps inside, looking crisp and tidy and obnoxious. He cringes when he sees me, which does nothing for my mental wellbeing, and then he offers me another damp rag. Despite my advanced state of dehydration and fatigue, it doesn’t escape my notice that he’s standing as far away as possible. He may as well treat me as if I have the pox.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks as if he cares.

  I narrow my eyes at him. His hair is a tad bit shorter, his appearance a smidgen neater.

  “While I’ve been in here, dying, were you up on the deck…having your hair cut?” I croak, incredulous.

  “You are not dying, Lucia,” Sebastian says, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “You have a mild case of sea sickness.”

  “Mild?” I sit up, and the room spins. “Mild?”

  Ignoring me, Sebastian changes the subject. “I’ve come to tell you we’ll be taking dinghies to the island in about an hour. The captain assures me you’ll be able to find an anti-nausea charm in one of the shoppes.”

  “I don’t think I can move.”

  This time, Sebastian fails to repress his eye roll. “Get out of bed and brush your hair. You’ll feel better once you’re on the deck.”

  I want nothing more than to leave this tiny room, but the thought of doing all Sebastian just said sounds far too taxing.

  “You need fresh air and something to eat,” he presses. His eyes move to the egg. “You can take that with us. It will likely fetch a higher price on the island.”

  I glare at him. “I’m not getting up just because you think you can order me around, and I’m not selling the egg.”

  He crosses his arms. His narrowed eyes look surprisingly green in the limited sunlight that shines in from the tiny round window at the end of the bed, and I catch myself staring at them.

  “If you’re not up and dressed in thirty minutes,” he says, “I’ll be back to do the chore myself.”

  Like a petulant child, I snarl as soon as he’s on the other side of the door. Then I grit my teeth and pull myself to my feet.

  ***

  “Any better?” Sebastian asks.

  I snort instead of reply, refusing to answer.

  Sebastian was right about the fresh air—though I’ll never admit it to him. I suck in another lungful, relishing its warmth. Just four days at sea has brought us into more temperate territory. Palm trees grow just past the beach, and their fronds sway in the gentle sea air.

  The island port is bustling with activity. Several large ships are anchored in the cove, and dinghies and tenders float back and forth, transporting people to and from the shore. There are merchants bartering and fisherman bringing in nets full of writhing silver fish. Rich travelers on holiday wander about, taking it all in, and children play on the beach.

  We walk down the wooden dock, toward the shoppes. A group of young women laughs together in a cluster not far from us. They wear gowns of lightweight silk in a variety of pastels. Their skirts are full but airy, and their waists are tiny—no doubt cinched in by painful corsets. They’re just as colorful as the native birds—and far louder.

  Sebastian’s words from the day we boarded The Sea Star come back, unbidden. Self-conscious of my appearance after four days of retching into a bucket, I push my hair behind my ears and hurry past them.

  One of the girls, a pretty young woman with raven hair, turns to Sebastian before we’re away. “Forgive me, do I know you, sir?”

  She wears a pale coral dress, and the color brings out the blue in her eyes. She has freckles, but like the rest of her, they are demure and subtle, and they only add to her beauty.

  Sebastian pauses and smiles at the girl in a way he’s never smiled at me—not that I’d want him to. I shift, uncomfortable, as the two carry on a conversation which eventually reveals that they’ve never met before, but they are very pleased to make each other’s acquaintances.

  Oddly enough, my nausea returns.

  “I’m going to find a trinket peddler,” I mutter to Sebastian’s back. I walk away before the girls notice me and grace me with those horrified looks of disdain their kind are so skilled at.

  Sebastian either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t care, because he continues his conversation even as I turn a corner. I pass a combination alchemist and apothecary shoppe, an armorsmith, a chandler, an artisan selling enchanted items that are leagues out of my price range, and finally stumble on a sundry with a sign announcing a mishmash of all kinds of goods.

  A tiny bell tinkles above the door as I walk in. The shoppe is cool—the product of a quality chill spell, and it gives me confidence that the friendly-looking, red-haired man smiling at me from the back counter will have the item I’m looking for.

  “In search of an anti-nausea charm?” he asks after taking a quick assessment of me.

  Mildly irritated, I press my hands to my stomach. “Do I look that awful?”

  “My dear,” he says jovially, “you look like a serpent snatched you from the shore and dragged you through the sea.”

  My shoulders sag.

  He laughs and comes around the counter. “Don’t feel too badly. Living here on the island, I see at least three cases of it every day. You’ll get your sea legs before you know it.”

  “I’m not sure of that.”

  The shopkeeper greets another man who comes in behind me, and then he leads me to a table in the back that’s full-to-bursting with trinkets and baubles. “Here are your options.”

  There are rings, necklaces, brooches, and more. But one thing quickly becomes evident—I can’t afford any of it.

  “You, sir, are a pirate.” I frown at the simple token he hands me. It costs five times as much as it would on land.

  “It’s all supply and demand, my dear.” He gives me a cheeky wink. “And there’s a lot of demand.”

  The only thing I own of any value sits in the pouch at my side, patiently waiting to hatch. I sigh to myself. Though I hate to, I pull the egg from its resting place. “Are you interested in a trade?”

  The shopkeeper’s eyes light up. “Is that a munchkin?”

  I nod, feeling ill all over again. I suppose the ridiculous little dragon isn’t in my future after all.

  “Deal,” he says, eager, knowing he’s swindling me.

  He hands me my charm, and I regretfully give him the egg.

  I leave the shoppe feeling melancholy. I didn’t need a dragon anyway. Why would I want another living creature depending on me when I can barely feed myself?

  On the way back to the ship, I tell myself all the reasons why it’s better this way. The dragon will find a good home, probably with one of the snooty girls Sebastian is enamored with.

  That’s just fine.

  I’m so deep in my own thoughts, I almost run into a man who steps in my path. I jump back, startled. For a moment, I think it’s Sebastian—that he’s finally caught up with me. But it’s not Sebastian.

  A familiar sea captain’s eyes light with recognition, and my stomach lurches again—but this time from butterflies and embarrassment. Horrified, I place a hand on my forehead, hoping to hide how awful I look.
It’s far too late.

  “Lucia!” Avery exclaims. “What’s happened to you?”

  He looks over my shoulder, perplexed, as if he’s wondering where I came from.

  “I’m fine.” I hold up my newly-acquired token. “Just a bit of sea sickness, but I’ve bought a charm.”

  The captain frowns. “The Sea Star didn’t have someone skilled with tinctures or enchantments aboard?”

  I shake my head.

  “How barbaric of them—and dreadful for you.” He gently takes my arm, giving me no choice but to walk with him. Not that I’d have declined.

  “Would you like to come aboard my ship? I’ll order you a hot bath, and you can rest for a bit before your ship sets sail again.”

  If I were smart, I would decline his ulterior-motive-laced offer. But a real, honest-to-goodness bath is not a luxury I’m able to often indulge in—not the kind with hot water, at any rate.

  “That’s very kind of you.”

  Avery escorts me to the dock, and we pass the empty spot where Sebastian stood not half an hour ago, speaking with the well-to-do girls. Now my traveling partner hovers by a street lamp. He scowls down the pier and drums his fingers on his crossed arms.

  I glance up at Avery, who’s already spotted Sebastian. “You’ll have to excuse me for a moment. I need to—”

  “Inform your chaperone you’re venturing into the den of iniquity?” Avery’s light eyes sparkle.

  A pleasant, warm sensation starts in my chest and spreads through my limbs. “I’m afraid so.”

  “Who is he, anyway?”

  Good question.

  “He’s my brother,” I say after several moments of indecision. Then under my breath, I add, “Of sorts.”

  Avery raises a brow, though I don’t think he heard the second part. “I’ll wait here.”

  Sebastian spots me just as I’m stepping away from the captain. His irritated expression turns downright thunderous. Fortunately, he’s too much of a gentleman to holler at me from across the pier. Instead, he takes his frustration out on his belted sheath and yanks it straight. It wasn’t crooked.