The menerupted with a loud roar of laughter and it was all I could do tohide the grin as I continued to serve them. When the last bowl wasfilled, I headed back toward the kitchen, still more than enoughpasta left for seconds, even thirds, when Henry grabbed my arm.
“Fixyourself a bowl and come sit with us, won’t you?”
My pulsequickened. “Uh, sure,” I replied.
Our eyes met,his obsidian gaze locking on mine and, for just a second, I wasfrozen. When he released my arm, my body thawed, and I scamperedoff to the kitchen. After I caught my breath again, I searchedaround for a mirror. Settling on the underside of a silver servingtray, I attempted to make myself more presentable. I untied my hairand let the mess of black curls fall around my shoulders. Then,with a quick splash of water on my face, I toweled off and headedback out with my bowl of pasta in hand.
It gave me anunexpected sense of pride when I found the crew filling theirfaces, hardly allowing a breath between bites. When I came into theroom, a few of them stopped long enough to look up and give me anapproving grin. They let out a resounding “aye!” and I felt mycheeks fill with color. Finn was right, I could win them over withfood.
I took my seatnext to my friend, across from Gus and the captain. “Do you guyslike it?”
Finnstopped shoveling thepasta in his mouth and threw his arm over my shoulders, embracingme in another rough squeeze. His big red beard held remnants ofsauce as he spoke. “It may look like a pile of guts, but‘tis the best damnthing I ever tasted.”
Justthen, the innkeepercame out with a rolling cart full of handled mugs and twolarge pitchers. “You boys must be thirsty,” he said loudly, and thecrew erupted in yet another resounding “aye!”
As theold man began pouring the mugs and handing them around, I realizedthe drink was ale, and the crew were downing it like water. Soon,they began to sing a tune I had never heard before, but the melodyseemed familiar. Like most old Newfoundland songs. Theinnkeeper pulled out afiddle from thin air and joined in on the fun. I just sat quietlyand ate my spaghetti, very aware of Henry’s eyes on me.
I wanted himto trust me. I wanted us to be able to speak freely. But thereseemed to be this strange hostility between us. Perhaps it stemmedfrom the unexpected attraction I knew we felt for one another. Icouldn’t imagine the torment he must feel, admitting his attractionto a woman who resembles a monster from his past. And me… well, Ididn’t want to give in to my body’s urges, I couldn’t possibly getinvolved with a three-hundred-year-old pirate when my mission wasto eventually go back home.
No need tocomplicate my situation even more.
But I wasweak. And my newly-found knowledge that The Devil’s Heart wasn’t aruthless pirate ship, but a privateer vessel, put Henry and thecrew in a whole new light for me. I didn’t know a ton about it, butI did know that privateers were secretly hired by government andmilitary or something, to carry out acts of warfare. They weren’tout there to raid the seas, they were meant to help lay the law andkeep the peace. If it were true, then Henry and his crew were notbad people after all. I stole a quick glance up from my food towardCaptain Barrett and the second our eyes met, his flitted away.
“So,Dianna,” Gus spoke, and the three of us perked our heads up. “Where is it you saidyou came from?”
“Themainland,” I told him for the second time.
“Whereabouts, exactly?” he continued topress.
“Hereand there.” I put some food in my mouth in an attempt to stifle theconversation.
“Andwhat were you doing here in Newfoundland, then?” he addedcuriously. “On Crown land.”
I’dforgotten that Newfoundland was part of England’s rule untilthe mid-1900s.Technically, I wasn’t even in Canada at that moment. “My mother wasfrom England, she migrated here and married my father before I wasborn. So, I often come back to visit family.” That’s about as vagueas I could get.
“Whatdid you say your maiden name was?” Gus insisted. But my stomachclenched at the question because that was one I could never reveal.See, my mother kept her name after the marriage, and I took it whenI was born. My father was a Sheppard. But Mom was a Cobham… and sowas I.
So, instead, Ishot him a cheeky grin. “I didn’t.”
Finn hadenough of the interrogation and slammed his hand down on the table.“That be enough glabberin’ yer mouths.” He downed a swig of ale,“Let us drink!”
After an houror so, the crew had consumed more ale and pasta than I thoughthumanly possible. Some locals had filed in, something they probablydid on a regular basis since the tavern appeared to double as thelocal bar, too. I sat back and sipped on a single mug of beer, mystomach happy to be full of delicious food, and I watched the crewwith a newly-found affection. They were a cheerful bunch, and Inever noticed how young some of them were. A couple were no morethan mere boys, breaking the boundary of pubescence. I caught Finnover in a corner, his arm draped over another man’s shoulders, alocal man, and the two appeared to be engaged in a privateconversation.
Music,laughter, and good, strong ale filled the tavern and for the firsttime since I’d washed up in this era, I’d felt a sliver ofhappiness. Then, Henry appeared at my side.
“The menare fed and happy,” he pointed out and let a pause hold the spacebetween us. I just nodded and sipped my ale as he fidgetednervously with his hands behind his back. “Well, then. I’ll beretiring to my room for the evening.” Was he hinting for me to comewith him? “Can I leave you here and trust you won’tflee?”
My flutteringheart came to a screeching halt and I narrowed my gaze. “Really?You’re worried I’m going to run away?”
He scowled.“Well, I–”
“No, Captain, I’ll stayright here,” I assured him, my words holding a double meaning. “Youcan be sure
