Montgomery and Balthasar stood on the quarterdeck, peering into the rigging.
“Is the ship still seaworthy?” I asked.
Montgomery jerked his chin toward the sailors, who fought to tame the sail under the captain’s slurred curses. “We won’t sink, but we won’t go far if they don’t fix the sail. Anyway, we have our own problems.” He looked back into the rigging. On the top spar, a dozen yards above us, was the monkey. “His cage shattered in the storm.”
“Can’t one of the crew climb up to fetch him?”
Montgomery glanced at the foresail. “They won’t bother themselves for an animal.”
I studied the complicated puzzle of rigging, spars, and sails, looking for a solution. But wherever a man might cut off the monkey’s passage horizontally, it could always move vertically.
“You’ll have to wait for him to come down,” I concluded.
“Not possible. Captain’s given me no choice.” His face went serious and he made a gesture to Balthasar, who shuffled to a stack of crates and came back with a rifle. He handed it to Montgomery.
The blood drained from my face. “Don’t you dare shoot it!” I said.
He shook his head a little too forcefully. “Captain says the added weight can affect the sails.”
“That’s not true. It’s basic physics. You know that, Montgomery.”
“Very scientific of you, but it won’t make a difference to the captain.” He split the barrel and checked inside. “Balthasar, go belowdecks for a few minutes.” Balthasar nodded, grinning naively, and shuffled off to the forecastle hatch. Montgomery clicked the barrel back into place. “You should go as well, Miss Moreau.”
“I shan’t. I’ll talk some sense into the captain.” I pointed at the rifle. “And don’t even think about using that.”
“Miss Moreau, wait.” His voice begged. “Juliet!”
I ignored him and crossed the deck. While trying to tame the loose sail, the men had torn a gash down its center, and the captain cursed something furious.
“Captain Claggan, a word, please.”
He whirled on me with bloodshot eyes and breath like a tannery. His nose and cheeks were splotched with broken blood vessels that made him look like the devil himself. “What do you want?” he bellowed.
I took a step back. The deckhands glanced my way, their faces hardened. I’d find no support there.
“I asked you what the devil you want!”
“The monkey,” I said, getting irritated. “It weighs too little to do any damage. The laws of physics—”
“Physics! Devil take you, lass! I’ll shoot the wretch down myself. And you, too, if you don’t mind your own business!”
I wasn’t used to being threatened by a bony drunkard, and it didn’t sit well with me. Anger stirred deep in my bones. At just sixteen, I had already had a lifetime’s experience with men like him. The last one ended up without use of his hand. The river of anger flowed from my capillaries into veins and straight to my heart, lodging there like a hardened bit of glass. Before I knew what I was doing, I’d brought my palm across his face.
The crew went silent. The captain touched his cheek, blinked twice, then stumbled toward me with black rage. Suddenly Montgomery was beside me. He snatched my hand and tucked the rifle under his arm.
“Is there a problem, Captain?” he growled. In an instant Montgomery had turned into a hulking animal, powerful and dangerous.
The captain’s bloodshot eyes steadied on the rifle. Montgomery casually adjusted it so it pointed at his gut. The captain hesitated, then spit a thin mess of tobacco a few inches from Montgomery’s feet. “Keep your little bobtail below where she belongs.”
I gasped at the insult, but Montgomery squeezed my hand so hard I couldn’t think of anything else. “Our apologies for the disruption,” he said, his blue eyes cold. “It won’t happen again.” He pulled me to the side, where I leaned against the rail, shaking with anger.
“Did you hear what he called me?” I said, face burning.
“He’s a liar and a drunk, so what he says is of no consequence to us.” His hand tightened over mine. “I’m less concerned with your reputation than your safety. Men like him are dangerous. He may be checked by Balthasar’s size and by my rifle, but he could do anything to us out here, Juliet, and no one would know.”
His large fingers swallowed my own. He could have let go, for we were quite safe now.
But he did not.
I cleared my throat. His presence had a way of making my anger dissipate, but in return it set loose a swell of other feelings. “I should thank you, then.” I didn’t know exactly what to do with myself. What to say.
He still didn’t let go of my hand. He took a step closer, interlacing his fingers in my own. I swallowed the nervous jitters rising in my throat.
“I suppose I’ve made this voyage very difficult for you,” I said. My voice shook, but the thought of silence was more frightening.
“As I said, I’m glad you came.” His eyes held mine, leaving little doubt as to his meaning. Montgomery wasn’t one for games.
My corset felt even more constricting than usual. I wanted to rip the stays apart and fill my burning lungs with air. His touch was thrilling. His whispered words, I’m glad you came, turned my insides molten. Emotions were a puzzle, something to be studied and fitted together carefully. But the edges of this puzzle didn’t fit within the lines I knew. I focused on the loose white thread on his cuff rather than on our intertwined hands.