Demons & Pearls (The Razor's Adventures Book 1) (12 page)

“What’s the matter? Are you jealous?” I sniped at her over my shoulder. I could keep my mouth shut for me, but in my whole life, I could never keep it closed when it came to my cousins.

“What did you say?”

“Just you don’t worry about us. We’ll be out of your hair as soon as we can.” I pulled on the front door, and as I stepped inside I heard her mumble, “Sooner than ye think.”

I rushed up the stairs to our bedroom and jumped inside and closed the door.

“Ivory, where have you been?” Cass asked in a whisper. “It’s nearly nine o’clock.”

“I’ve had one of the best days of my life. How that was managed under these dire circumstances, I can’t explain.  But, I believe we may put our whole trust in the man—Captain Bergman, that is. In only a day, I’ve found a friend and mentor in him, and just knowing he is on our side gives me hope.”

“Master Green was by today. He came to meet the Captain just after you’d gone. They rode off together. He asked after you, but I lied and told him you were still asleep. The Captain hasn’t returned since then.”

“Good on you, Cass. Did you speak with Master Green at all?

“Only briefly. He inquired as to how we were being treated, and I winked at him when I said we were being treated very well and thanked him. Oh, and before you say anything of the wink, it was solely a gesture to convey that I was lying through my teeth.”

“That’s my girl. So, you’re with me in all of this? And them?”

“Of course we are. Don’t worry about a thing. It isn’t as if we’ve a choice, anyway. So, what do you need from us to prepare?”

“For now, I need you to pack the trunk, and when those two wake up, make sure they know they are to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. I see Millie’s deep in her cups this evening. Has she been a bear to you all?”

“She’s been at it all day. We’ve barely left the room. Coco was kind enough to bring our supper up to us.” She sat up and pulled me down on the bed next to her. What’s troubling the Lady so?”

“According to our new friend, River, all thanks to Miranda’s charms, the Lady herself was doing more than just business with Barclay. I suppose she’s in some sort of mourning; both business and personal.”

“What about the pirates who are coming to take us? Please tell me they aren’t here yet.”

“No pirates yet.  Soon, Rasmus will be ready to take us away.”

“Rasmus?” she leaned back and asked.

“Captain Bergman.” I laid back on the bed and rested my hand over my weary eyes.

“All day you’ve been with this Rasmus, having your best day ever. Doing what, might I ask?” Cass lay back next to me and leaned up on one elbow. I moved my hand to my brow and pinched my lips together in a crooked smile.

“And might this Rasmus know you’re not a man?  And if so,
how
does he know?” she sternly inquired.

“He figured it out when we first met—or rather when he saw me in the tavern last night.”

“What happened last night?” She smiled down at me.

“I’ll tell you about it someday,” I said with a soft chuckle.

“You should sleep. You barely slept but a few hours last night.”

“I can’t. I’m meeting Rasmus again at midnight. I only came home to make sure you were all still safe and to prepare you for our escape. I’m concerned, though, because Rasmus spied two men and shooed me away. He appeared startled, even afraid.”

“River has been watching over us from the cottage all day, and from what you’ve said of this Rasmus, I can’t imagine him frightened.”

“I don’t believe his fear was for himself, but for me. He’s meeting with Captain McCormack at this very moment to arrange things. Of course, I was creating my own schemes, but he stamped them out like a small fire. Oh, Cass, when will I ever learn?”

  She stroked my hair away from my face and kissed my forehead. “Don’t worry, love.  We’ll be ready. You go to sleep. I’ll stay awake and rouse you in time to meet your Rasmus.”

Chapter Twelve

~Still Waters~

I arrived at midnight as we’d planned, but Rasmus was nowhere to be found. I expected to see a few of his crew, if not a watchman at the very least but, the
Oyster
sat all alone in the dark. I felt sick and my stomach rolled over with worry. All I could think about was the men he’d heard near the alley. Had they killed him? Had he gone missing, as so many people did on this island? All I’d ever heard was of the beauty of Jamaica, and all I’d known of it thus far was death, piracy, and lies.

I took several deep breaths to try and calm my trembling heart and repeatedly told myself he was simply detained and would be along at any moment. I climbed aboard the
Oyster
and hid myself in the shadows to wait for him. I kept my only weapon in my hand and removed the Captain’s heavy coat to cover myself—only allowing my eyes to peer over it and my ears to catch every sound.

I must have been there for a while, because I fell asleep. The creaking wood and the light rolling of the waves beneath rocked me like a babe in a cradle. The two-hour nap Cass had gifted me wasn’t nearly as restful as I’d needed.  Being awake for over fourteen hours, which included being one half of a two man crew sailing a fifty foot sloop, had drained me. I was rudely awakened by the smell of sulfur as Big Red blew out the match he’d used to light a lantern in his cabin.

“How did I get here?” I asked him as I rubbed at my eyes. The fire took hold of the lantern’s wick, and my Captain’s handsome face was captured in the light.

“I found you sleeping on deck under your coat. I almost stepped on ye, lass. Next time my lookout decides to take off for the tavern, just make yourself at home and come inside.”

I was lying in his bunk. I’d allowed the thought of being here to pass through my mind the first night we met and again as I watched him collecting shells in the lagoon. What I had imagined and the reality of the here and now were miles apart, even if I could reach out my hand and touch him. He sat beside the bunk, leaning back in his chair with his hands resting on his thighs. I straightened my clothes a bit and sat up, noticing that my hat and boots had been kindly removed. I was completely relaxed, although I knew I had to turn my thoughts to the ugly business that brought us together in the first place.

“Did you and Captain McCormack get everything settled?” I asked.

“We did, but there’s the matter of those pirates who are coming. It’s The
Thunder Cay
, lass, captained by one Francis Cabbot. He’s called by a few different names, but these days he goes by Frank Calvert, or just Cyclone Calvert. He’s got a penchant for the weather, I suppose.”

“How much time do we have, and how do you know this?” I felt my heart rise up until I could feel it trying to squeeze through my neck and into my mouth.

“Those voices near the alley? I heard one of ‘em say
Thunder Cay
, so I followed them to the
Gull
and overheard them asking Lilly if she knew when “the new girls” were coming in to port. They said they had just pulled in from a rum run from Tortuga.  They’d spotted the
Cay
loading up there, and overheard a few of her crew bragging on coming here next.  We need to get you girls away tomorrow night. We can’t risk it during the daylight.”

“I’ll see to them. I’ll have them here just after sundown.”

“Cover them up. Dress them down like you and don’t risk walking. McCormack said he’d make sure you have the wagon and mules. I even persuaded him to throw in a few weapons for ye.”

“I really don’t know what I’ll ever be able to do to thank you.”

“Keeping you girls out of the hands of Francis’s weedy crew is thanks enough. You thought Barclay was bad, you haven’t met real evil out here yet.”

I swallowed hard again and again as he spoke. I wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth, or if he was just trying to scare me. I was scared, but I wasn’t going to let him see it. “Do you have anything to drink?” I asked and scooted forward to sit on the edge of the bunk.

He walked to his well-stocked bookshelf and lifted a lone onion-shaped bottle. He pulled the cork and poured me a glass. “Bring the whole bottle,” I said.

“I watched ye the other night in the
Gull
. Aren’t ye a little young to keep on your feet so full of this stuff?”

“Don’t you drink? I saw you enjoying a mug, too,” I said as I pulled the glass to my mouth.

“Not really. I used to, but I like to keep my wits about me. A man in my situation needs all of them.” He sat back down in the chair facing me. Here we were alone again, and here I sat, watching him stroke his beard in the lantern light. I pulled and tugged at my mind not to stray to that sight of him I had committed to memory.  Luckily, a question came to mind, and as always, I blurted it out.

“Why did you do what you did on the pier the other night?”

He chuckled softly and asked, “Now which ‘what’ are you referring to? I did quite a few things, if you recall.” He leaned back and crossed his ankles as he raised those massive arms and wound his fingers together behind his head. I swallowed hard and spat out the question.

“Why did you undress in front of me if you knew I wasn’t a man?”

His eyebrows went up and his arms came down, and he rested his big paws on his thighs and said, “First of all, you look nothing like a man. You passed well for a boy, maybe; but a man, no. I may seem dry and uninteresting to you, lass, but I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.” He winked. I glanced down and noticed his feet tapping rhythmically, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking of me now as the woman he’s proclaimed he could love under different conditions, while remembering his prank of parading around in front of me naked.    

“Don’t regret what you did, Razz. I don’t. It was a very good prank, and to be honest, you sure did prove it will take more than binding my breasts and applying some soot to disguise myself as a man. I wonder if I’ll ever trust anyone in the world enough to do what you did.” I chuckled.

“Well, seeing as how you didn’t grow the right parts in your mother’s belly, sooner or later someone other than me is going to uncover your secrets, whether you trust them or not.”

“Not unless they can get me out of my clothes by force, and I’ll die before I’ll let that happen.  Unless it’s my idea to expose who I really am, no one will know I’m a woman.” I downed my glass and held it out to him to pour me another. Having barely eaten enough to feed a kitten in many hours, the rum was going right to my head. As relaxed as I already was, now I had reached a point of complete lucidity as well, despite the rum.

“Take it easy there, lass. Here, let me get ye something to sop that up.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have a small galley. I’ll just go and throw some bread and cured ham together. I may even have a mango, if yer lucky.”

I downed the second glass, too. I sat there and wondered about what Rasmus said about needing more than breeches and bindings to look like a man. As I wondered, I did what I usually do when I’m thinking—I twirled my braid. I wound it again and again around my fingers until the tie that held it came loose. I combed my fingers through it and poured myself another glass of rum. I stood up and found a small mirror leaning in the book shelf.  I examined myself as I pushed my hands up and under my pale mane and pulled it back tight away from my face. I’d never been a beauty like Miranda, or had delicate features like Cass, and I’d certainly never been blessed with Keara’s sweet pixie smile, but at this moment, I was happy to be what my aunt used to call a “plain Jane.”

Who needed beauty and charms in this world anymore, anyway? Unless you married a wealthy man or painted yourself up to be put on display to catch the heaviest purse that walked into a tavern, what good was beauty? All I’d known beauty to do was draw the men to you like a spider when it feels a vibration in its web. I’d never be that poor June bug who had the misfortune of getting caught, then left struggling uselessly until the spider pounced.

Still, I knew there was something very feminine about me. Something I’d always relished as unique and unlike any woman I knew other than my Norse grandmother—my flaxen hair. I’d never met her, but Uncle William had a small painting of her that sat in a frame on the mantle. He always said I was the mirror image of her—just as feisty, and at times, just as disagreeable. He told me I should always think of it as a compliment. I remembered the immense loss of losing my uncle even more so than the loss of my own parents. The trust and admiration I had for him, was unparalleled with any other man…until now. 

Several minutes had passed when Rasmus ducked through the doorway and raised his eyes to me. A moment later, the floor was littered with bread and cured ham, and I saw that same look in his eyes that I’d seen in the alley. He appeared to have spotted a ghost, when in fact, I was still very much alive, standing before him as a woman in nothing but my skin. I used my arm and my hands to cover my more private areas but I stood proud, despite the large purple and blue bruises scattered about my body from my battle aboard the
Demon,
and the thin, white lines of several scars that marred my flesh. I was thankful that the golden glow from the lantern was the only light in the room, and I hoped most of my flaws would be hidden in the shadows.

He said nothing. He appeared frozen in a state of amazement. His eyes blinked, but after each flutter, they returned to their widened state as if they were being pried open with sticks. I stepped to the table to block his view of me from my hips down and raised my right hand, holding my razor out to him. “This isn’t a trick or a prank.”

At last, his mouth moved. His face twisted from shock into sadness as he said, “My little Razor. What are ye doing?”

“Please…will you cut my hair?”

“What? Why? No one can see it when ye have it all tucked away. Why cut it off?” he asked. “And where’s your clothes? Put them clothes back on ye this instant.” Rasmus walked around me to the bunk and snatched the blanket. I sat my razor on the table and swatted him away as he tried to wrap me up in it.

“Please stop this. I’m naked because I trust you, Razz, and just like you did, I want you to see me for who I truly am. I also don’t want the hair scattered throughout my clothes, you damned fool. You’re behaving as if you’ve never seen a naked woman before, and we both know that’s not true. I trust you, Razz. I trust you not to hurt me. Now will you cut my hair or not? I’d do it myself, but I want my head as smooth as sanded wood. I don’t think I can reach the back well enough by myself.”

He stopped and tossed the blanket back on the bunk and picked the lantern up from the table. I stood like a statue as he stepped behind me. I could feel the warmth of the lantern as he drew it closer to my skin.

“What the devil are you doing now, Razz?” I asked, growing slightly uncomfortable under his inspection.

I peeked back over my shoulder and watched him. He was passing the lantern over and across my back. I flinched when I felt that tender and sandy touch of his as he brushed the long white waves of my hair away from my shoulders, and I heard him release a sigh.

“It isn’t as bad as it looks,” I whispered back to him. “Look at this,” I said.  I started to turn around so he could see the worst one of all on my right hip, but he sat down the lantern and turned me away from him by the shoulders. “Razz, really? Stop being so shy.” I chuckled at him until I turned again and looked up into his eyes. Had I not known better, I would have sworn they were glazed over with tears.

“I’m alright. I promise I am. I just bruise easily. This one is rather tender to the touch though.” I twisted until the lantern light shined on my hip bruise. He refused to look.

I reached up and dared to achieve what I’d been longing to do since the first time I’d watched him do it—I laid my hands on his beard. I hesitated with some subconscious fear that once I’d done this, my hands would forever bear the blisters. The warmth permeated my palms, but the burning I experienced was radiating from somewhere well beneath my chest. I’d never in my life felt such an ache. I pushed it down and away and focused my attention on his glorious eyes as they finally met mine.

“I don’t believe God created such a beautiful sight as the female form for it to be abused so,” he whispered to me while I caressed his face.

“Don’t look at me then. Come on; I’ll sit in the chair, and you can just pretend I’m a man and cut away.”