Read Online Into His Arms by Paula Reed - Free Book Online

replied.
    Geoff rolled his golden-brown eyes cynically. “Spare me. Nothing wrong with a wench who knows her worth.”
    “A woman’s worth lies not in her face!” Again, she realized that she had responded more sharply than intended. Again, she cast her eyes down, only to bring them up quickly before he could comment. What was it about this man that made her so forget herself? More calmly she added, “I mean, her value is in her obedience to God and her family. Which means I am of no value at all.”
    The captain’s tone was as sharp as hers had been. “That preacher is not God!”
    “Nay, but he is one of God’s own men, and I have scorned him. I—I don’t like him, not at all. There, I have spoken it! I don’t know how this happened to me. I’ve long curbed my rebellion and my tongue, and now it seems I shame myself at every turn.” She looked up into his clearly irritated countenance. “Forgive me. I do not mean to trouble you with my woes. You have been so kind already.”
    “Do you really believe all your sanctimonious prattle?” he asked, shaking his head.
    She knew not how to answer. She had never before spoken to anyone who questioned the teachings she had learned from infancy. It struck her as dangerous, this conversation with a man whose heretical words mirrored too closely her own thoughts of late.
    Despite her worries, she spoke her mind. “He does not strike me as godly,” she admitted. “And honestly, sometimes I think I confuse thinking I ought to be ashamed with actually being so.” Giving voice to these thoughts left her somehow lighter inside, and she felt a sudden, odd trust in this man who listened without shock or dismay. “What think you of that?” she asked, lifting her chin defiantly.
    “I think, Faith Cooper, that you are a singular woman. And,” he added, “I’m thinking that I’ll have to see that you do away with shame altogether someday soon.”

Chapter 6
     
    Giles might have missed the heavy footsteps of the captain behind him on the deck, but for the sullen looks upon the faces of the men who had gathered ‘round him to voice their complaints.
    “Cap’n,” he began, his voice all business, any warmth of friendship banished. “Word of our new passenger is out, and there’s some question as to what’s to be done with her.”
    “And you’ve explained that the decision’s already been made?” Geoff asked.
    “I have,” Giles assured him. “But there are those who would contest it.”
    Geoff met and held the gaze of each man who surrounded him. Many an enemy had likened his golden orbs to a lion’s in battle, and one by one, the men looked away. “Then which of you will step forward and voice your questions to me, instead of sniveling to my first mate?”
    Pete Killigrew stepped forward. He was a bandy-legged sailor with long, greasy hair, rotting teeth, and a nose that was at once grotesquely humped and skinny. He sailed for profit, not patriotism, and he made sure all who met him knew it. Though he stood directly in front of his commander, he studied the main mast behind the man and grumbled sorely, “Keepin’ ‘er fer yerself, are ye, Cap’n?”
    Geoff kept his face carefully bland. It was this complete absence of emotion that had chilled the blood of his enemies, even before his cutlass spilled that very blood upon the decks of their ships. He raised his left hand, from which dangled a weighty cloth bag.
    “Take this, Giles,” he said, but his eyes never left the face of the man who questioned him, “and add it to the crew’s profits from this voyage.”
    Giles opened the bag and let a handful of rich gold doubloons pour into his palm. It was a small fortune, no doubt!
    “That’s to pay her passage. She’s my affair now, and of no concern to the rest of you.”
    In terms of the crew’s immediate discontent, Geoff’s gesture soothed Giles’s worries. The men might well have preferred the woman to the gold, but none could afford to raise the