When the Perfect Comes by Susan Ward

Author:Susan Ward
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2014-10-03T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Merry sat on the top step of the hatchway, in a pale pink gown formerly owned by Christina Wythford. Indy had taken all his clothes back, in an effort to discourage her troublesome conduct.

She was watching Shay polish a sword beneath the hazy sunlight of an overcast sky. He was in good spirits. They were preparing to drop anchor in Ireland, just south of Galway Bay in a cove along its rocky shore.

Everything seemed to have sipped a wild spirit. The sea roiled in riotous swirls of crashing, white tipped waves against the rocks. The air capered through the canvas laden of heady flavors as it made the sails flap.

She had stood at the rail for hours, staring in fascination at her first glimpse of Ireland. It seemed an untamed land, a vast sweeping expanse, haunted and magical.

Earlier, Morgan had ordered her below, but seeing her face fall, he’d relented and surprised her by allowing her to stay on the steps of the hatchway.

Across the deck from her, Morgan stood with Tom Craven doing an alert assessment of the wind, followed by the graceful gestures of his arms as he made some comment about the sails.

His dancer smooth strides carried him to the mizzen where he immediately went into discussion with Mr. Seton. Shay had informed her he was the sailing master and the twenty-five year old youngest son of a cotton planter from a place called, Georgia, in America.

Apparently Mr. Seton possessed a genius mind that hid behind the carelessly foppish mannerism of a dandy. He was an uncommonly handsome man, long golden waves framing a face of boyish good looks and bright amber eyes. Whenever he saw Merry, he sent her his dazzling smile. He had gone to sea with Morgan four years past.

Morgan’s crew, though in possession of its share of the rough lot, was not always the scourge of the sea, as Merry had expected them to be.

They were, if one were inclined to study them, an interesting and fascinating assembly of men. Morgan not excluded.

Merry’s eyes strayed to him again, following the flutter of his dark hair being caressed by the wind. She had stared at him too long.

Beside him, Mr. Seton, facing toward her, had begun to grin in earnest. Thankfully, Morgan’s back was to her, or she would have felt completely pathetic. Studying the man was a dangerous compulsion, better to stop.

Shay gave the lass a guarded look, realizing she had stopped talking some minutes past, and then saw the cause standing by the mizzen.

“Sit farther back out of the sun, lass. Ye’ve got enough burn from yesterday. Did you put that salve on I gave ye?”

Merry nodded, eased back against the polished wood wall and managed a slight smile. “How did you come to be with Morgan? You are such a kind-hearted boy. I would have never expected you and piracy to have made a pact.”

Shay looked up in his work then, surprised and pleased by her question. He loved to tell a tale and Merry could tell that clearly this one was going to be a big one.

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