An Officer but No Gentleman(15)

Charlie knocked.

“What do you want, Junior?” he asked upon opening the door, his Australian accent as strong as his first day aboard.

“Mr. Byron, sir. There’s a discipline problem….”

“That’s your duty not mine,” he cut in, pushing the door close.

Charlie instinctively put her booted foot in the opening before he slammed it in her face. “I am well aware of my duties. I am putting Mr. Ness in the brig. I need the key to the hold.”

Aboard ship the cargo was the responsibility of the chief mate. He and the captain were the only ones with access. Once the cargo was loaded, the hold was locked and no one could enter without getting permission and the key.

“Oh, for God’s sake, can’t you just flog him and send him back to work?”

“No, sir,” Charlie gritted out.

“Mutiny? Attempted murder? Theft?” Sarcasm practically dripped off his tongue. The man never ceased showing his contempt.

“Mr. Mate, I don’t stand over your shoulder while you count the cargo or when you fill out your logs. This is my duty and I won’t have you standing over my shoulder second guessing me.” Charlie resisted the urge to bow up on the man when he acted like a jackass. Beating him senseless would feel so good and probably worth the flogging her father would give her. “The key, sir.”

“Or what? You’ll go tell your papa?”

If Charlie ever did, she’d get an earful. John Sinclair raised Charlie to take care of her own problems. He didn’t fight her fights when she was little and one of the cabin boys bullied her and he certainly didn’t fight them now. She would have been in for a lecture on how her behavior embarrassed him.

Charlie folded her arms across her chest and waited. She would not let him bait her.

Byron snagged a ring of keys off a nail. “See that nothing comes up missing.”

“Why would I steal from the coffers I will someday inherit?” Charlie removed the key she needed from the ring. “I’ll just hold on to this while he’s in there. No reason to wake you every time he needs the slop bucket emptied or he gets his food ration.”

“Fine. Go lock up your mate because you’re too soft to flog him. But I’ll tell you this; I won’t have him replaced on your watch. If your crew can’t get their work done, you’d better get your maidenly soft hands dirty or there will be hell to pay.”



Morty understood on a ship at sea there is no place to run, no place to hide. He gathered his belongings from the crew’s quarters in the forecastle and followed Charlie into the hold.

Charlie had barely returned to the quarterdeck when the mate and captain joined her.

“Mr. Byron tells me you have something to report,” her father snapped, obviously perturbed by the mate’s spin on the transpired events.

Charlie’s dark look cast at the mate was involuntary. “It’s a private matter,” Charlie said tightly.

“You locked up that tar because of a private matter? What? Didn’t he want to be your chum anymore?” Byron asked disdainfully.

“What I meant to say is that it is a matter that should be addressed privately.” She locked her eyes on her father’s and held his gaze trying to make him understand it could not be discussed within earshot of others.

“Take the quarterdeck, Mr. Byron.”

“It’s not my watch,” Byron said sounding like a whiny child.

Captain Sinclair ignored him and stalked off to his quarters with Charlie at his heels. Neither said a word until they were safely ensconced in the captain’s cabin.



John Sinclair sat at his desk and rubbed his forehead. “How did it happen?” He sounded tired.

The last thing Charlie wanted to do was bring up her tavern brawl. She could already feel his ire and to mention the fight would send him over the edge. He would not be pleased that Charlie had been aware that Morty knew her secret for over a week and had risked letting him tell others during that time.

“I don’t really know. I think he just…worked it out.”

John Sinclair scowled at her, dissatisfied with her answer. “You must have slipped up somehow. Talk to him, figure out what you did wrong and correct it.” He thought for a moment. “What exactly did he say? You didn’t misunderstand, did you?”

“There was no misunderstanding. He said he knew I was a woman.” She cleared her throat. “And that he was in love with me.”

The Captain’s brows shot up so high they disappeared in the shadow of his tricorne hat. “Indeed?” John Sinclair actually smiled a little. “Anything else?”

She debated whether to tell him. “He thinks I’m pretty,” she said without emotion as if that would keep her from blushing.