“Aye. I’ll bet you’re right.”
“Maybe ye should talk to him?” Hugh suggested.
“Me? What do I know about young, innocent girls? Have you forgotten I have not lived among the fairer sex since I was six years old?” Charlie asked. “You talk to him. Surely, that fishing village you’re from had a few nice girls. Didn’t you say you were in love with a milkmaid once?”
“Aye and that worked out so well.”
Charlie fell silent when he saw Hugh’s grimace. The woman had broken Hugh’s heart and he’d gone to sea so he’d never have to see her again.
“I’ll talk to him,” Charlie conceded a minute later, “but after he’s had time to sober up.”
They deposited the wench on a bed in one of the upstairs room of the tavern where Charlie met her earlier. Since that was the last place Charlie saw Morty, it was the logical place to start looking for him. They were on their way to find the proprietor when Morty’s voice filtered into the hallway from behind a closed door.
“Oh, honey…honey…." Morty’s voice rang through the air, his voice heavily slurred with drink.
The men eyed each other with amusement, knowing well enough what the sound meant. Charlie resigned himself to the delay, hoping Morty wouldn’t take too long.
Charlie leaned against the wall trying to ignore the sounds. He groaned inwardly wishing he could go down to the taproom and have a tankard of rum during their wait. But as his father would be quick to remind him, the ship would sail with the tide and he needed some semblance of sobriety.
He glanced at his companion and found Hugh listening intently to the sounds of their shipmate’s activity, his eyes half-cast with lust.
Discomfiture fueling his impatience prompted Charlie to pound loudly on the door. “Show a leg, Morty. It’s time to get back to the ship if you’re sailing with us.”
“Hon-ey…Oh, Hon-ey…” came the passionate cry from inside the room.
“Bloody hell,” Hugh laughed.
“Come on, Morty. Make short shrift of the wench.”
Less than a minute later, Morty opened the door. He was naked, but held his shirt in front of his hips. He squinted bleary amber eyes at them. “It’s me mates, damned if it’s not.” He teetered unsteadily until his shoulder made contact with the doorframe.
Behind Morty, the woman rose from the bed, wiped between her legs with the sheet and picked up her dress from the floor. She displayed no embarrassment being naked in front of the three men or with the door to the corridor being wide open.
“Charlie, how mooch time did ye say we’ve goot before the ship sails?”
Charlie saw Hugh’s gaze fixed on the tavern wench and knew instinctively what he had in mind. They would be out to sea for a month or more so Charlie could not begrudge his friend one last conquest before casting off.
A sly smile lifted Charlie’s upper lip. “You have time if you’re quick about it. Come on, Morty, get dressed so McNamara can have her.”
Morty teetered uneasily making Charlie think he was going to pass out on his feet.
“Oh, no you don’t, Morty,” Charlie grunted as he shoved him back into the room. “You keep your wits about you until I get you back to the ship or I swear I’ll leave you where you drop.”
“Avast there, wench,” Hugh called out moving past Morty into the room. “How aboot it?”
“Just you?” she asked glancing toward the doorway. “I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time I was passed around among you tars. It’ll cost you extra though.”
Hugh cast a look over his shoulder and shrugged as if to say, It’s up to you. “It might take both of us to get Morty back to the Arcadia.”
“Y’ can keep your shirt on if that’s what’s stopping you,” Morty bellowed loudly slurring his words together. “That’s what you usually do isn’t it? I-I’ve never heard you say any of your wenches fainted at the sight of your scars.”
“Bloody hell!” Hugh swore, his face as red as his hair and beard. “I-I’m sorry, mate. Forgot aboot yer scars, I did.”
Charlie saw the look of revulsion flash across the woman’s face.
“Don’t worry about it, McNamara,” Charlie said. “But I do think I’ll decline your offer. I already wore out one wench tonight; I should probably leave the rest for everyone else. As for you, Mr. Ness, I suggest you get dressed if you’re coming with me. I’ll be down in the taproom waiting for you.”
Charlie gave Morty a shove towards his discarded garments and pulled the door closed.