deck.”
“What sort of things?” Barnaby asked.
Gideon glared at his first mate. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He drew out his pocket watch and looked at it. An hour had passed since he’d last spoken to Miss Willis. It was time to hear whether the women had accepted his offer or not. “But bring Miss Willis back here. She and I have to finish our discussion.”
Though Barnaby cast him a questioning look, he ignored it. He hadn’t yet told the others about the offer he’d made the women. He didn’t want to endure his men’s groans and complaints until he was sure the women were agreeable.
Barnaby and his fellow pirate left, taking Hargraves with them, but still Gideon sat staring into space. He hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to tell the men that he was giving the women a choice. What demon had come over him to let him suggest such a thing? It wasn’t as if these women expected such privileges. In New South Wales, they’d have had no choices at all, or very little.
Opening a desk drawer, he dug around in the bottom until he found a little-used flask of rum he kept there for when he had the ague. He seldom drank hard liquor for any reason, but today it was warranted. He took a sip, coughed, then took another. A few more sips and his anger evened out a fraction.
So what if he’d given the women a choice? He wanted them to be happy. If they were happy, they’d do as they were told and add their skills to those of his men. Women were needed on Atlantis, not just to provide anoutlet for the men’s sexual urges, but to perform other tasks as well—cooking and weaving and gardening, things his men knew nothing about. And if giving the women a little freedom of choice made them more amenable to their situation, he’d do it. The men would understand once he explained it to them that way. Certainly he’d prefer that his own wife, whomever he chose, married him of her own free will.
A brief knock sounded at the door. Thrusting the rum flask into the drawer, he settled back in his seat and called out, “Come in.”
Miss Willis entered. When she’d left his cabin before, she’d been full of fire and fury, but now she seemed more subdued, even afraid. Strangely enough, he didn’t like that demeanor on her, and that made him speak more sharply than he should. “Well? What did the women decide?”
She seemed not to hear his question. “As I was coming in, I saw that you’d taken prisoner one of the crewmen from the Chastity . What do you intend to do with him?”
For some reason, her concern for a lowly English sailor irked him. “Make him walk the plank, of course.” When her horrified expression showed that she believed him, he added, “He’s joining my crew. That’s all.” Relief flooded her face, prompting him to ask, “Why do you care?”
She dropped her gaze from his. “I wouldn’t like to see anyone from the Chastity harmed.”
“How kind of you.” For a moment, he toyed with the idea that Miss Willis was the one Hargraves had sneaked aboard for. Then he dismissed it as an absurdity. British sailors knew better than to fall in love with women above their station. And a pretty woman like Miss Willis would certainly never be romantically interested in a scrawny thing like Peter Hargraves.
In any case, that wasn’t why he’d called her here. “Have the women decided to accept my offer?”
A change came over her as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. The fear vanished, leaving behind a fierce determination that showed itself in the stubborn set of her mouth and the glint in her pretty brown eyes. “Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” He rose from behind the desk, rounding it to stand in front of her. “Remember, if they don’t want to take the week to choose, I’m simply going to let my men pick whom they want—”
“No!” When he raised one eyebrow, she hastened to add, “I mean, they want to have the week, of course. It’s better than the alternative.
“What sort of things?” Barnaby asked.
Gideon glared at his first mate. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He drew out his pocket watch and looked at it. An hour had passed since he’d last spoken to Miss Willis. It was time to hear whether the women had accepted his offer or not. “But bring Miss Willis back here. She and I have to finish our discussion.”
Though Barnaby cast him a questioning look, he ignored it. He hadn’t yet told the others about the offer he’d made the women. He didn’t want to endure his men’s groans and complaints until he was sure the women were agreeable.
Barnaby and his fellow pirate left, taking Hargraves with them, but still Gideon sat staring into space. He hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to tell the men that he was giving the women a choice. What demon had come over him to let him suggest such a thing? It wasn’t as if these women expected such privileges. In New South Wales, they’d have had no choices at all, or very little.
Opening a desk drawer, he dug around in the bottom until he found a little-used flask of rum he kept there for when he had the ague. He seldom drank hard liquor for any reason, but today it was warranted. He took a sip, coughed, then took another. A few more sips and his anger evened out a fraction.
So what if he’d given the women a choice? He wanted them to be happy. If they were happy, they’d do as they were told and add their skills to those of his men. Women were needed on Atlantis, not just to provide anoutlet for the men’s sexual urges, but to perform other tasks as well—cooking and weaving and gardening, things his men knew nothing about. And if giving the women a little freedom of choice made them more amenable to their situation, he’d do it. The men would understand once he explained it to them that way. Certainly he’d prefer that his own wife, whomever he chose, married him of her own free will.
A brief knock sounded at the door. Thrusting the rum flask into the drawer, he settled back in his seat and called out, “Come in.”
Miss Willis entered. When she’d left his cabin before, she’d been full of fire and fury, but now she seemed more subdued, even afraid. Strangely enough, he didn’t like that demeanor on her, and that made him speak more sharply than he should. “Well? What did the women decide?”
She seemed not to hear his question. “As I was coming in, I saw that you’d taken prisoner one of the crewmen from the Chastity . What do you intend to do with him?”
For some reason, her concern for a lowly English sailor irked him. “Make him walk the plank, of course.” When her horrified expression showed that she believed him, he added, “He’s joining my crew. That’s all.” Relief flooded her face, prompting him to ask, “Why do you care?”
She dropped her gaze from his. “I wouldn’t like to see anyone from the Chastity harmed.”
“How kind of you.” For a moment, he toyed with the idea that Miss Willis was the one Hargraves had sneaked aboard for. Then he dismissed it as an absurdity. British sailors knew better than to fall in love with women above their station. And a pretty woman like Miss Willis would certainly never be romantically interested in a scrawny thing like Peter Hargraves.
In any case, that wasn’t why he’d called her here. “Have the women decided to accept my offer?”
A change came over her as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. The fear vanished, leaving behind a fierce determination that showed itself in the stubborn set of her mouth and the glint in her pretty brown eyes. “Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” He rose from behind the desk, rounding it to stand in front of her. “Remember, if they don’t want to take the week to choose, I’m simply going to let my men pick whom they want—”
“No!” When he raised one eyebrow, she hastened to add, “I mean, they want to have the week, of course. It’s better than the alternative.
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