a grin.
The girl froze for a second, then ran off through the crowd.
‘So how does a toff from England know how to keep hold of his wallet in the mean streets of Port Royal?’ Mia asked, genuinely interested.
Will fascinated her. He was a mass of contradictions. Posh but street smart, a hunter of pirates but compassionate to their sisters. She wondered what had brought him to the Caribbean and what drove him to risk his life hunting some of the most dangerous men on earth.
‘Now, that is a long story,’ Will said.
They walked on in silence. Mia occasionally glanced at Will, wondering what she could do to make him open up to her. Not that he was obliged to, but she so desperately wanted to know more about him. She knew he found her attractive and not just because of the kiss on the beach. He’d been exhausted and just short of delirious then. But yesterday, outside her cabin, he’d looked into her eyes and edged just so slightly forward. He’d wanted to kiss her, she was sure of it, and she would have let him. She would have felt guilty kissing the man who was hunting her brother, but she wouldn’t have wanted to stop him. But something had held him back and this morning he had returned to being friendly but distant, not revealing any more than he had to.
She wondered if she’d gone too far the night before, opening up to him. She had surprised herself in how freely she’d told him of her childhood and her family. Normally she was a private person. When she had worked for Mr Partridge she’d managed to keep her whole life up to the point when he’d employed her a secret. She supposed perversely she felt at ease with Will, the man who was meant to be her captor. He looked at her as though he didn’t judge her on the transgressions of her brother as so many others did. When he’d asked her about her childhood it had felt right to open up to him. Mia wondered if a large part of it was also loneliness. For months she’d lived alone, with no one to talk to from one day to the next. When a sympathetic listener came along and seemed genuinely interested in her life she was bound to start talking.
They stopped outside a grubby-looking inn and Mia was forced to put her ruminations aside.
‘I won’t let anyone harm you,’ Will said after seeing the look on her face.
Mia laughed. She’d grown up in places like this, spent hours scuttling under the tables lifting purses and grabbing chunks of bread whilst the patrons rolled about in a drunken stupor.
They entered and found a table in the corner, away from the raucous crowd near the bar.
Will leaned back against the wall and exhaled loudly.
‘Tired?’ Mia asked.
‘I didn’t sleep well.’
‘The sea has tried to kill you once and you’ve survived. I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you.’
‘I wasn’t worrying about the sea. I’d have to be very unlucky to get shipwrecked twice in one week.’
Mia refused to let his cheeky grin derail her. She was going to find something out about Will Greenacre if it killed her. He knew so much about her and she so little about him.
‘So what did keep you awake?’
Will paused for a long few seconds and Mia wondered if he might just ignore the question completely.
‘I was thinking about my brother,’ he said eventually.
‘Mr Greenacre,’ a man said in a low voice.
Mia nearly punched him. Will was just about to tell her something about himself.
‘Mr Weston. Please, sit down.’
Will motioned to the barmaid, holding up three fingers.
‘I can’t stay long,’ the mysterious Mr Weston growled, ‘might be recognised.’
He glanced at Mia suspiciously.
Will took a cloth purse from the recesses of his jacket and slid it across the table. Mr Weston picked it up, felt the weight with his hand and smiled, treating Mia to a waft of stale breath and the sight of his horrible blackened teeth.
‘Who’s she?’ Mr Weston asked, nodding at Mia.
‘A friend.’
He looked her up and down. ‘Do I know you?’ he asked eventually.
‘I don’t think we’ve ever had the pleasure,’ Mia replied sweetly.
Mr Weston grunted suspiciously, then turned back to Will.
‘So what do you want to know?’
Will leaned forward and lowered his voice, ‘I want to know where I can find Captain Del Torres.’
Mr Weston snorted. ‘That man’s a ghost. The Navy have been after him for years and haven’t even got close.’
‘You’ve sailed with him. You must have some idea where he takes his ship in a storm. Where he goes to take on water and food.’
‘He’s a very clever man. Difficult to catch.’
A serving boy appeared with three flagons of ale and plonked them down on the table, causing half the liquid to spill out. Weston took a long draught and shamelessly eyed up Mia again.
‘Are you sure I don’t know you?’ he asked. ‘You look very familiar.’
Mia hadn’t seen her brother for years, but she expected there was still quite a strong family resemblance between them. She didn’t think that bit of information would be terribly helpful in this situation.
‘Let’s get back to Captain Del Torres,’ Will prompted. ‘Tell me about the ship.’
Weston smiled his blackened grin again. ‘The Flaming Dragon is a beauty. Armed with more cannons than any other ship in these waters and still nimble enough to outrun any Navy ship. She’s invincible.’
‘No ship is invincible. They all sink eventually.’
Weston took another gulp of ale, nearly finishing the tankard. Will motioned for another to be brought forward. Mia noticed he hadn’t touched his own.
‘How about the crew? And the Captain himself?’
‘The crew are all very loyal,’ Weston said, raising a hand to his throat unconsciously.
Mia leaned in closer and realised he had two jagged scars zigzagging across the skin of his neck. They were partially obscured by grime, but they were visible for all to see if you knew to look.
‘The Captain only has to give the word and they’ll rush to do his bidding.’
‘How has he earned their loyalty?’
‘Fair division of spoils and fear.’ Weston touched his throat again. ‘Del Torres isn’t afraid to slaughter someone if he disagrees with him.’
Will glanced at Mia. She smiled weakly. She still remembered the little boy who held her hand whilst they sat watching the boats come into port. It was difficult to listen to what a monster he had become.
‘And what does Del Torres target?’ Will asked.
Mia took a sip of ale to try to fortify herself for the answer that was to come.
‘Mainly merchant ships. He has contacts in most of the ports who feed him information about which ships to target. That’s one of the differences between The Dragon and other pirate ships—when The Dragon engages with a merchant ship you know it is going to be a big payload at the end.’
‘How about raiding towns?’ Mia asked. She didn’t want to know the answer, but felt she had to.
Weston shifted his attention back to her. ‘Land raids are high risk—you get little return for what can sometimes be a big loss of life or capture of men. Del Torres will raid towns, but not often. He normally focuses on the merchant ships.’
‘And