Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)

Drat.

Bleating indignantly, the goat scrambled to its feet, its forelegs and hindlegs on either side of Sophia’s midsection. Sophia struggled to raise herself up on her elbows. Her serge skirt had flipped up, exposing her stockings. The powerful stench of farm animal smothered her like a goat-hide blanket. Two pendulous teats dangled before her eyes, swaying gently with every motion of the ship.

“Well, well.” Mr. Grayson’s teasing tone carried down the staircase. The remaining sheet of paper fluttered to a rest near Sophia’s elbow. The goat ingested it with alacrity. “This is a very pretty picture. What a fetching dairymaid you make, Miss Turner.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“Goats.” Joss swore. “Why did it have to be goats?”

“Can’t have empty space on a merchant vessel.” Gray tore his gaze from the rustic tableau belowdecks. Now there was an image that would haunt his dreams. The girl already owed him one night’s rest. “Space wasted is money lost. And we’ll have fresh milk all the way to Tortola. You’ll be thanking me soon enough.”

“And when you purchased them, did you pause to consider just where we

’d house the bloody beasts?”

“No need to be disparaging, Joss.” Gray tugged the ear of the brown-and-white nanny. “These bloody beasts are from Hampshire’s finest stock. They’ll fetch a good price. And I thought they’d stay put in the hold.”

“Evidently, you thought wrong.”

“Must have chewed through their ropes last night.” Gray paused, considering. “We’ll put them in the gentlemen’s cabin. Damned berths are too small for human habitation anyway.”

“I see.” Joss tapped the toe of his boot against the deck. “And I suppose you’re going to look after them there? Clean up after them? Milk them?”

“Don’t be absurd. Stubb and Gabriel can share the milking. As for the tending … That green hand of yours is fresh off the farm, isn’t he? Ah, there he is.” He whistled through his teeth. “Boy!”

A pale-faced youth trotted across the deck, a thick coil of rope threaded over his arm.

“What’s your name, again?”

“Davy Linnet, sir.”

“How old are you, Davy?”

“Fifteen, sir.”

“Come from the farm, have you?”

The lad shifted his feet. He regarded the goats warily. “Yes, sir.”

“Then I suppose you know how to tend a goat.”

The boy hesitated, looking toward Joss.

“Well?” Gray asked. “Do you know a goat’s teat from her tail, or don’t you?” When the boy still paused, he added, “Speak up now, or I’ll ask you the same about girls.”

“I’ve tended goats, sir. It’s just … I wasn’t expecting to tend them at sea. I rather thought I was finished with that.”

Gray laughed. “A man can’t shake his past, Davy. And don’t I know it. Take them down to the gentlemen’s cabin, then. One to a berth.” He raised his voice and spoke in the direction of the hatch. “And rescue Miss Turner from that animal under her skirts.”

Davy stowed his coil of rope and grabbed a cannon rammer from the rack at the ship’s rail. He prodded one goat’s flank with the blunt end. “Get along, then.”

“So, if the goats are in the gentlemen’s cabin,” Joss asked, turning toward the helm, “where do you intend to sleep? Not curled up with your flock, I imagine.”

“No. There’s always the la—”

“The ladies’ cabin?” Joss stopped. His eyes narrowed. “Think again.”

“I suppose the for—”

“And don’t think about bunking in the forecastle. I’ll not have you in there carousing with the crew, undermining my authority.”

Gray shrugged. “Then that leaves steerage, it would seem. I’m certain Davy can spare some room for me amongst the barrels.” He shook his head. “I own the damn ship, and I’ll be bedding down in steerage with the green hand.”

“Don’t look to me for sympathy,” Joss said. “I didn’t want your bloody goats. Or their milk.”

“Oh, you’ll drink their milk. You’ll drink it, and you’ll thank me for it.” Gray teetered on the brink of anger, and his brother’s smirk pushed him over the edge. “Damn it, I’ve taken on risks for this business, Joss. I’ve made sacrifices. All so the family … so you can reap the benefits. I wish you’d cease throwing them back in my face.”

Gray knew instantly he’d gone too far. Lately, conversing with Joss was like swimming through shark-infested waters. And the steely glint in his brother’s eye signaled an imminent attack.