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

Gray tried, very hard, to pretend he hadn’t just heard that. She continued, “If you can ensure my safety, Captain Grayson, I can promise to behave in strict accordance with propriety.”


Sighing hard, Joss shifted his weight. “Miss Turner, I’m sorry, but—”

“Please,” she begged, laying a delicate hand on his brother’s arm. “You must take me. I’ve nowhere else to go.”

Joss’s expression softened. Gray was relieved to learn he wasn’t the only man that wide-eyed plea worked on. For no definable reason, he was also annoyed, to watch it plied on another man.

“Take pity, Captain Grayson. Surely Miss Turner must be fatigued.” Gray spied the old steward limping down the deck. “Stubb, kindly show Miss Turner to the ladies’ cabin. Berth seven is vacant, I believe.”

Stubb gave an amused cackle. “They’re all vacant, I believe.”

Well, yes. But they’d all be full on the voyage home, thanks to the dwindling profits of sugar plantations. Scarcely anyone was traveling to the West Indies anymore, save Methodist missionaries. And, apparently, the occasional winsome governess.

Seeming to recognize defeat, Joss bowed. “Welcome aboard the Aphrodite, Miss Turner. I hope your voyage is pleasant.”

The young lady curtsied once again before Stubb escorted her to the narrow stairs that led belowdecks. Gray watched Miss Turner descend into the belly of the ship, knowing that for good or ill, this voyage had just become a great deal more interesting.

“Where’s Bains?” Joss asked suddenly. “What are you doing, rowing yourself back to the ship? Is he following with more cargo?”

“No. I let him go.”

“You let him go? What the devil for?”

“Something’s wrong with his eyesight.” Any man who mistook Miss Turner for a dockside whore had to be losing his vision. Not to mention, Gray didn’t want a sailor who had a habit of taking what wasn’t offered him. In voyages past, that attitude might have been a desirable trait, but not anymore. The Aphrodite was a respectable merchant ship now.

Joss’s jaw clenched. “You can’t let him go. He’s my crewman.”

“It’s already done.”

“I can’t believe this. You go ashore for two hours of trade, and somehow you’ve exchanged an experienced sailor for a governess.”

“Well, and goats. I did buy a few goats—the boatman will have them out presently.”

“Damn it, don’t try to change the subject. Crew and passengers are supposed to be my responsibility. Am I captain of this ship or not?”

“Yes, Joss, you’re the captain. But I’m the investor. I don’t want Bains near my cargo, and I’d like at least one paying passenger on this voyage, if I can get one. I didn’t have that steerage compartment converted to cabins for a lark, you realize.”

“If you think I’ll believe your interest in that girl lies solely in her six pounds sterling …”

Gray shrugged. “Since you mention it, I quite admired her brass as well.”

“You know damn well what I mean. A young lady, unescorted …” He looked askance at Gray. “It’s asking for trouble.”

“Asking for trouble?” Gray echoed, hoping to lighten the conversation.

“Since when does the Aphrodite need to go asking for trouble? We’ve stowed more trouble than cargo on this ship.” He leaned back, propping both elbows on the ship’s rail. “And as trouble goes, Miss Turner’s variety looks a damn sight better than most alternatives. Perhaps you could do with a bit of trouble yourself. It’s been a year, you know.”

Joss’s face drew tight. “It’s been a year, two months, and seventeen days. I have troubles enough of my own, Gray. I’m not looking for more.”

He turned and stared out over the harbor.

Damn. Gray knew he shouldn’t have said that. It was just—well, he missed the old, piss-at-the-devil Joss. He missed his brother. He kept hoping the old Joss would surface someday, once he released all that pain dragging him down. But the chances of that seemed even less likely, now that Gray had made him captain. Navigating the sea would be the least of Joss’s worries on this, his first voyage in command. Navigating the balance of power between a green captain and fifteen men more accustomed to plundering cargo than protecting it—now that was treacherous going. Here there be monsters.

And Joss was worried—perhaps rightly—that having an attractive, unmarried young lady aboard would c**k it all up.

“I’ll keep the girl out of trouble,” Gray said, in what seemed to him a rather magnanimous gesture. “I’ll watch out for her.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt you will. But who’s going to watch out for you?”

Gray’s nerves prickled. So, it wasn’t the girl Joss was concerned about. No, he expected Gray to c**k it all up.

“Right, Joss. I’m an unprincipled, lecherous bastard.” He paused, waiting for his brother to argue otherwise.

He didn’t.

Gray protested, “She’s a governess, for the love of gold. Prim, proper, starched, dull.” Soft, he thought in counterpoint. Delicate, sweet. Intriguing.