Page 5 of Escaping Pirates (Legends of Neverland #4)

T yrone’s ship had barely slipped past the porthole and back out to sea when Captain Harsh came back to the brig, smiling ear to ear. “You made a good choice,” he told me brightly as he unlocked my cell. “My girls will be delighted to have a friend. Come along.”

Lightheaded from hunger, I followed Captain Harsh, trying not to notice the stares from the crewmates as I trailed along after the massive, red-headed man.

“Here we are,” Harsh said, grandly sweeping his hand toward a large suite built right next to the captain’s quarters. “Have a good day, girls! Your new friend has agreed to be your handmaiden. What’s your name, lass?”

“Elena.”

“And how old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“Right between my daughters, then. Sugar here is nineteen and Blossom is twenty-one. Have fun today, girls!” Harsh snapped the door closed behind him.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” I asked, looking around for some sort of cot or mat.

As long as it was softer than the hard slats I’d endured the night before, I wasn’t about to be picky.

Sugar was applying a heavy dark line to her eyelids in front of the mirror, and Blossom had her nose in a book, lounging on a sofa.

“Ew, Ellen thinks she’s going to sleep here!” Sugar laughed.

“Elena,” I corrected politely, trying to force my parched mouth into forming words without rasping too badly. “Like Ellen, with an -uh after it. And I don’t need a bed, just some blankets and?—”

“You can take a blanket and keep it in the brig,” Blossom said with a sniff. “Handmaidens don’t sleep in the same room as their mistresses. Now read to me.”

“I need water in order to read aloud,” I croaked, hating how weak my voice sounded.

“Take some, then, but wipe the glass and pitcher after,” Blossom said, walking her fingers across the spines of her books to select one for me to read.

I poured a glass and downed it within a matter of seconds, then crammed a scone into my mouth while the girls weren’t looking.

I wasn’t sure if I would be allowed more but decided that it would be better to beg forgiveness than permission before my stomach shriveled up.

After a second glass of water, I felt marginally better and the shaking in my arms stopped.

“I found one!” Blossom called, handing me a thick tome and reclining onto the settee in what she obviously thought was a refined and elegant manner.

“Is it a romance?” Sugar asked, abandoning the mirror and coming over to flop back onto a bed.

“Yes, it certainly is,” I confirmed, thumbing through enough to know that it wasn’t the sort of book any refined lady would be caught dead with .

“Oh, goody,” Sugar said, rolling onto her front and kicking her feet in the air so her skirts fell to her knees. She placed her chin in her hands and waited expectantly. “Daddy never reads those to us.”

“I wonder why,” I muttered under my breath, then began.

After half an hour of reading, my voice was hoarse and Sugar and Blossom had already grown bored with the story.

“Have you ever been in love?” Sugar asked me, returning to examine her reflection in the mirror.

“I’ve liked boys, but I can’t claim love for any of them. One of them proposed, but I said no.”

“Did you go to dances with him?”

“Yes.”

“Did he bring you flowers and chocolates?” Sugar sighed.

“Or write you love poems?” Blossom suggested.

“Yes to flowers and chocolates, but no poetry. We only saw each other for a few months.”

Sugar clutched her pillow. “Did you kiss?”

“Once.”

“What was his name?”

“Lawrence.”

Blossom studied me with her stoic, emotionless face. “Was he very handsome?”

“I suppose he was.”

“Then why didn’t you marry him?” Sugar looked shocked that anyone would forgo marrying a man who was handsome, for any reason at all.

“He and I just weren’t very compatible. I think he wanted someone a little more reserved, and I wanted someone who gave more consideration to my feelings. He isn’t a bad person, but he just wasn’t for me. ”

“I want someone handsome,” Sugar said. “He will tell me I’m beautiful every day.”

“I want someone clever so he can appreciate my intellect,” Blossom countered. “And he’ll also be handsome.”

Talking about romance wasn’t the worst way to spend my time in captivity. “What are your experiences with men?” I asked, absentmindedly reaching for another scone.

Sugar swatted my hand away. “Don’t touch my food! You’re filthy.”

I withdrew my hand. “I’m…I’m sorry.” Hoping that I could distract them with more talk about boys, I went on, “So how about you? I’m guessing dating opportunities are limited aboard a pirate ship.”

“Are you incarcerating that we have no romantic experience?” Blossom squawked.

I let out a breath of laughter. “I think you mean insinuating, and no, I’m not. I just?—”

Blossom’s thin frame swelled as she inflated herself. “How dare you contradict me! You have no idea what you’re talking about. Daddy!”

“Yes, Daddy!” Sugar shrieked, and new fear leapt in my stomach. I never should have let my guard down and laughed. What would Captain Harsh do if he discovered I’d accidentally insulted his girls?

“No, I’m sorry,” I said in a rush, panic in my voice. “Don’t call him; I really didn’t mean to offend you. I was just trying to make conversation. I?—”

The door flew open, and there stood Captain Harsh, his face almost as red as his braided beard. “What is it, my treasures?”

Sugar threw me a smug expression before sticking out her bottom lip. “I wanted to know when I’ll get to meet a boy. ”

“Soon enough, my love. I would be hard-pressed to find anyone good enough for you.” Harsh threw a suspicious look at me. “Was the new girl bothering either of you?”

“She was telling us how she met lots of boys before,” Blossom pouted.

“I didn’t say—” I began, but clamped my mouth shut as Harsh glowered.

“I can sell her to your Uncle Tyrone so she’s out of your hair,” he cooed to his girls, and my blood pressure skyrocketed, causing spots to pop into my vision. “I can send up a flare to call him back today if you want.”

“No, we’ll allow her to stay as long as she doesn’t say anything offensive.” Blossom sighed, giving an air of patient long-suffering even as she shot me a glare through narrowed eyes.

“I won’t,” I breathed. I was quickly becoming a mere shell of the confident woman I once was, turned instead into a submissive mouse, terrified and skittish.

“If you do,” Harsh said, “there are punishments we use at sea that a scrap of a girl like you can’t even fathom.”

It was impossible to meet his eyes as he towered over me, the plush rug beneath his boots suddenly demanding my utmost attention. “I understand.”

“So whatever my girls ask of you, you will do with the best attitude or you will suffer my wrath.”

My head bobbed up and down a fraction of an inch.

“Let me know if I can get you anything, girls,” Harsh told his daughters, his voice snapping back to doting father so rapidly that it was disconcerting. “We’ll make it to port tomorrow, and I’ll be going to shore for supplies.”

Sugar squealed and clapped her hands. “Ella, you can make a list.”

Blossom shoved an inkpot and paper into my hands as her father left. “I want more romance books and a new parasol.”

“More sweets,” Sugar added. “We’re almost out.”

For the remainder of the afternoon, I took note of everything they wanted at market, trimmed their toenails, and didn’t say a single word.