Read Online Virgin Star by Jennifer Horsman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Horsman
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held it up and very gently drew the shirt from the spot. "That, child. Do you not remember that?"
In the mirror's reflection, she saw the thin pink and blue lines on her skin. A mark. Like a scar. The lines formed a diamond, a point, and a face.
She was tattooed. Someone had marked her like a beast.
A trembling hand reached to the spot, brushing over and over the queer lines. She tried to wipe them from her skin, but to no avail. An ink mark done with needles and conscious purpose; she would wear it to the grave.
She drew her shirt over the mark with a tightly clenched fist and raised her searching eyes to his.
"So what I have is a battered young girl dropped on my doorstep whose memory was stolen by a hard blow to her head. Toothless saw you last night—"
“ Toothless?"
"My ship's surgeon. But he's only a bones man. I'll have Tilly send for a neurologist at the academy. She'll watch over you until—"
"Do you have a seaworthy ship?"
"Any number of them, child."
She suddenly reached for his arm, needing more of his attention. "This must be why I sought you. I need passage on a ship! I must escape—"
"Escape what?"
The question came in the demanding lilt of English aristocracy, yet the intimidating tone did not in the least threaten her as she braved the confession, "I don't know, but I am in danger. I must get away as far as possible before it is too late."
Seanessy stood over her, hands on hips, staring down. He wondered if on top of everything else she might be quite mad. Where did one send mad people these days? Wasn't there a proper Quaker institution in Yorkshire?
He did not hide his suspicions as he asked, "And just what is this danger, child?"
Her gaze swept the room as she cried, "I don't know! I mean, I can't remember. Yet I know I am in danger." She lifted up to her knees, pleading, "Please! If I could just have passage on your ship before 'tis too late. Passage to Malacca or even India—"
"My ships are not passenger ships."
"I could work. I am strong—"
"Strong? Are you daft, girl? Think you strong enough to fight off the determined advances of seventy-five hardened seamen bent on a little female raping? Pretty as your tricks are, they are no match for a man with loaded guns and a living target. And while you might not be particularly appealing to my tastes, I daresay on an empty blue sea, they'd have to shoot you to stave off the riot you'd cause."
Fury and indignation flashed in her eyes. She decided she hated him and all his haughty posturing. He was so maddening and arrogant, as if he ruled the world with the gods. Pretty tricks indeed! She could have killed him had she wanted to.
Slowly, with venom, she repeated, "I must escape. I must do it now! If you are such a weak-handed captain that you could not assure me safe passage from the lawlessness of your crew, then I would ask you make arrangements on a worthier ship."
"Why, you ill-mannered, impudent little brat! You are more irritating than a rock in a boot. Anyone with half a simpleton's wit would know—"
Listening outside, Tilly chose that moment to interrupt the arresting exchange of opinions before Seanessy resorted to throttling the girl. She opened the door, only to watch the young lady roll off the bed and stand with hands raised and feet spread, ready to fight.
Seanessy took one look and laughed.
Seeing it was only a servant, relief, powerful and heady, washed over her where she stood. She almost collapsed. Dear Lord, she was so frightened!
Tilly looked surprised, no doubt owing to the fact that in all her forty-eight years this was the first time she had ever frightened anyone. "What’s wrong?"
"I trust you know the answer to that, Tilly," Seanessy said as he moved to the door.
Tilly rushed into an explanation. "Cap'n! Cap'n! I'm so sorry. I must have fallen asleep—"
Seanessy had never been in the habit of listening to excuses, and he interrupted to say, "Tilly dear, do you know what I woke to this morning?"
Tilly
In the mirror's reflection, she saw the thin pink and blue lines on her skin. A mark. Like a scar. The lines formed a diamond, a point, and a face.
She was tattooed. Someone had marked her like a beast.
A trembling hand reached to the spot, brushing over and over the queer lines. She tried to wipe them from her skin, but to no avail. An ink mark done with needles and conscious purpose; she would wear it to the grave.
She drew her shirt over the mark with a tightly clenched fist and raised her searching eyes to his.
"So what I have is a battered young girl dropped on my doorstep whose memory was stolen by a hard blow to her head. Toothless saw you last night—"
“ Toothless?"
"My ship's surgeon. But he's only a bones man. I'll have Tilly send for a neurologist at the academy. She'll watch over you until—"
"Do you have a seaworthy ship?"
"Any number of them, child."
She suddenly reached for his arm, needing more of his attention. "This must be why I sought you. I need passage on a ship! I must escape—"
"Escape what?"
The question came in the demanding lilt of English aristocracy, yet the intimidating tone did not in the least threaten her as she braved the confession, "I don't know, but I am in danger. I must get away as far as possible before it is too late."
Seanessy stood over her, hands on hips, staring down. He wondered if on top of everything else she might be quite mad. Where did one send mad people these days? Wasn't there a proper Quaker institution in Yorkshire?
He did not hide his suspicions as he asked, "And just what is this danger, child?"
Her gaze swept the room as she cried, "I don't know! I mean, I can't remember. Yet I know I am in danger." She lifted up to her knees, pleading, "Please! If I could just have passage on your ship before 'tis too late. Passage to Malacca or even India—"
"My ships are not passenger ships."
"I could work. I am strong—"
"Strong? Are you daft, girl? Think you strong enough to fight off the determined advances of seventy-five hardened seamen bent on a little female raping? Pretty as your tricks are, they are no match for a man with loaded guns and a living target. And while you might not be particularly appealing to my tastes, I daresay on an empty blue sea, they'd have to shoot you to stave off the riot you'd cause."
Fury and indignation flashed in her eyes. She decided she hated him and all his haughty posturing. He was so maddening and arrogant, as if he ruled the world with the gods. Pretty tricks indeed! She could have killed him had she wanted to.
Slowly, with venom, she repeated, "I must escape. I must do it now! If you are such a weak-handed captain that you could not assure me safe passage from the lawlessness of your crew, then I would ask you make arrangements on a worthier ship."
"Why, you ill-mannered, impudent little brat! You are more irritating than a rock in a boot. Anyone with half a simpleton's wit would know—"
Listening outside, Tilly chose that moment to interrupt the arresting exchange of opinions before Seanessy resorted to throttling the girl. She opened the door, only to watch the young lady roll off the bed and stand with hands raised and feet spread, ready to fight.
Seanessy took one look and laughed.
Seeing it was only a servant, relief, powerful and heady, washed over her where she stood. She almost collapsed. Dear Lord, she was so frightened!
Tilly looked surprised, no doubt owing to the fact that in all her forty-eight years this was the first time she had ever frightened anyone. "What’s wrong?"
"I trust you know the answer to that, Tilly," Seanessy said as he moved to the door.
Tilly rushed into an explanation. "Cap'n! Cap'n! I'm so sorry. I must have fallen asleep—"
Seanessy had never been in the habit of listening to excuses, and he interrupted to say, "Tilly dear, do you know what I woke to this morning?"
Tilly
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