“And it was the bosun who opened it, not Gordon. “Your pardon, my lady. The captain sends his regards and asks if you are ready to begin.” “Since early this morning,” she replied, pointing to the one remaining trunk. “That is all I have left on board.” “Very good, my lady. The bosun’s chair has been prepared for you.” The bosun was a stout barrel-chested man with a deeply seamed face. His strength was immense, and his voice loud as a cannonade. Yet he was a good and fair man, respected by the of...ficers and men alike. “Please be so kind as to use my name upon the journey ahead,” she said to him. Carter’s features were stained the color of old tobacco from the sun and salt. Which made his teeth shine all the whiter when he smiled. “That I’ll do, Miss Nicole.” “Thank you. And the rest of the men should do the same.” “Right you are, ma’am. Now if you’ll just come this way.” Up on deck, Nicole found herself facing a phalanx of the ship’s company. One of the young lieutenants doffed his hat and said, “We’re all most dismayed to see you depart, my lady.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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