As the women and their eye-catching dresses vanished into the crowds,
India
took in the brigh
t banners that marked the wharf-
side markets. They stretched down a hard sand lane as far as she could see. Voices called out from within. Masculine, feminine, angry, persuasive—the disharmonious chorus accelerated her pulse. Where she was registered—
Nassau
,
New Providence
.
Pirate Haven.
The last place in this world any gentile lady would wish to be.
“Cain!” She grabbed at his arm, excitement thumping behind her breast. “Take me down there. I want to see it all.”
He looked at her as if she’d grown three heads. “This is no place for you,
India
. I’ll hail a cab, and we’ll drive to Old Bess’
s
.”
Miss the opportunity to witness things she’d never again see but would always remember? Not so long as she had breath in her lungs—or the ability to use her own legs.
India
shook her head. “No. I want to walk. I’ll only see this once in my life. I want the full experience.”
He set his jaw, the light in his eyes harsh. “It’s not
safe
. There are men down there who wouldn’t hesitate to cart you behind a building and take their fill of you, regardless of your wishes. Women who would scratch out your eyes because theirs are nowhere near as pretty.”
The unexpected compliment caught her off guard. She warmed under his words. “Do you really think they’re pretty?” she asked quietly.
Cain’s large palm captured the side of her face. His thumb stroked her cheek, and he gave her a tender smile. “Aye. Beautiful.” He abruptly dropped his hand, the sternness returning to his expression. “And I intend to keep them that way, not marred by scars.”
India
refused to be swayed. She’d found freedom. She wasn’t about to let it slip through her hands because of a little danger. Life was meant to be lived, not treated like a sickly child. “Then come with me. You’ll keep me safe. Teach me how to defend myself, if you must. But I’m going down there, with or without you.”
Cain opened his mouth to speak, spluttered something unintelligible, then quickly snapped it shut. Clearly, he had expected her to listen to reason and take refug
e from the scourge within a cab
. As he struggled to recover his tongue, she fought back a giggle. She’d won. She had actually won a round with Cain.
“Absolutely not.”
Or perhaps she’d lost. Dismay settled into her veins, weighing down her heart. She pulled her hand free of his arm and turned to gaze at the shore in longing.
They
didn’t fear a stroll down the streets. What made those women so different than she? The fact they couldn’t size their clothes correctly, or that they opened their legs for coin?
She stiffened her chin, stalked to the rail, and swung a leg over to catch the ladder
that dangled
off the bow. “This
cab—where shall I find it?”
“I’ll hail one when we reach the end of the dock.”
“No. I’m afraid you don’t understand. I’m going to walk, Cain.” With that she disembarked.
In seconds, his feet appeared on the rope rungs above her head. He glanced over his shoulder, down at her. “What in the name of the seven hells do you think you’re doing?”
India
shimmied down the last three rungs, and her toes touched the wet wooden dock. She dusted her hands on her trousers, then flashed him a broad grin. “Seeing the things I
wish
to see.” Turning, she took four steps toward the fray of people.
He hit the dock with a thud. “
India
!”
His authoritative bellow made her stumble. Perhaps challenging him hadn’t been so very wise. She gulped down the spike of fear and slowly confronted his angry glower.
Cain strode to her side and grabbed her elbow so tight
ly that
she had to bite back a yelp. He bent his head toward her ear and ground out, “If you are so determined to get yourself killed, I won’t stop you. But take another step toward the street without me, and so help me God, I will put you over my shoulder and throw you into the first
cab
I find.”
A bizarre thrill set her insides to tingling. She ought to cower at the menace in his voice. Yet between the triumph of hard-earned victory, and the blatant protectiveness behind Cain’s threat, all she knew was delight. She’d worried him. She’d well and truly worried him.
India
wriggled her arm free to catch his hand. Giving him a tug, she led him toward the bustling narrow street. “Well, come then, Captain. Show me what there is to see.”
351
Bound By Decency
24
S
o many things to see and do leapt out at
India
with every turn and every cubby. She didn’t know which way to go first and followed Cain blindly, occasionally tripping when he pulled on her hand and diverted her attention, thwarting her from chasing after some elusive trinket she’d glimpsed beyond a rickety storefront.
In many ways,
Nassau
reminded her of
London
. Only darker. Dirtier. The stench, however, was much improved, oddly enough. Perhaps the rolling white sand beaches that stretched out behind the row of shanty shops aided. Or perhaps it was that
Nassau
didn’t boast the tall buildings and the thick, noxious coal clouds that blanketed
London
and trapped the aroma of urine, death, and decay. Most likely that the sky had yet to produce a drop of rain contributed a great deal to the pleasant scents of flowers, perfumes, and spirits. Whatever the
cause
,
India
breathed more freely despite the torch-lit streets and the shadows within them that leered as she passed.
A shock of crimson caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She stopped, jerking Cain to a halt. Beneath a faded yellow canopy, a small stall held a variety of small wire cages. Her gaze riveted on a dark grey reptile with
scarlet scales around its face that sat
atop the shop keep’s rickety table. From tail to nose, it was nearly two feet long. “Cain, what is that?”
“Hm?”
She didn’t bother with asking a second time. Instead, she marched into the small space, pulling Cain along behind. A toothless man, who she smelled before she saw, sat in the corner beneath the orange light of a hanging lantern. He eyed her warily, beady eyes shifting between her and Cain. “Wot ye be wantin’?”
India
pointed at the
reptile
. Its head cocked to follow the movement of her hand. “That. What is that creature?”
“That be a dragon.”
Cain stepped into her side
. He set a hand on her shoulder and
bent toward her ear. “We should go,
India
. He’s a crook.”
She politely stepped out of Cain’s protective hold. Crook or not, the creature on the table fascinated her. Hands on her knees, she bent over to get a better look. Bright red, yellow, and orange scales framed a wise red-orange eye. Tiny spines ran down its thick back all the way to the tip of its broad tail. Forelegs matched in color to its head, and a loose flap of skin beneath its lower jaw resembled the color of sunset. Its stocky legs didn’t seem strong enough to hold the wide girth of its body. But the sharp claws on its tiny toes looked like they could easily shred flesh.
“A dragon?”
Behind her, Cain chuckled. “It’s an iguana,
India
. They call them bearded dragons here.”
She looked between her handsome companion and the wretched shop keep. “Does it bite?”
Both men shook their heads. Cain reached
around
her and plucked a chunk of banana from a bowl near the lizard’s head. He offered it to the dragon, who greedily devoured it. To further illustrate his point, Cain ran his finger down the length of the iguana’s back. “They can make good pets.” He captured the tail, gingerly bringing it around in front of its fat body. “When threatened they whip.”
India
followed his lead and reached out a hesitant hand. Expecting to feel smooth skin that matched the sheen in its colorful scales, she was surprised to find its body rough like canvas. The lizard closed its eyes, but made no attempt to evade her touch. Encouraged,
India
ran her fingertip along its spine and down the tail, where she set her hand atop Cain’s. He captured her fingers, gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
Their eyes met across the tabletop, and
India
offered him a smile before she turned her attention back on the shop keep. “How much is he?”
“He ain’t fer sale.”
One glance around the shop, and at the man’s ratty attire, told a different story. A tale that ended with the adage,
everything has a price.
“Five pounds,” she quipped.
The old man let out a wheezing laugh that scraped her skin. At her side, Cain tensed.
****
W
hat
India
was going to do with an iguana, Cain couldn’t answer. But her delight over everything ordinary and mundane, combined with her enchantment over the native reptile, made it difficult to object. Five pounds, however, wouldn’t buy her a piece of the banana when it came to dealing with the man known throughout the island as The Genie. He had more coins stored away under rocks and
in
cays than many of the buccaneers who frequented the port. And more people who wanted him dead than Blackbeard.
“Five pounds? Ye think I’d part with me only friend these last ten years fer five pounds? Go ‘way, wench. Ye insult me an’ the dragon.”
Ten years—Cain almost laughed aloud. At a mere two foot long, the iguana couldn’t be more than three years old. Which posed another, problem. If
India
succeeded in this whim, she’d need to find a place to keep an iguana
that
could easily rival her in size. He opened his mouth to convince her out of the idea, but she beat him to words.
“Then what will it take?”
Bristly eyebrows drew together as The Genie squinted at
India
. Sizing her up. Calculating in his mind not only what she might afford, but also her relationship to Cain. Cain watched, his senses on high alert, waiting to step in when the mangy crook took her for a whirl.
“I ’spect I kin part wit’ ’
im fer three hundred pounds.”
Anger blistered through Cain. “That
’
s
a pile of—”
“Eighty,”
India
countered.
And the negotiation began, much to Cain’s surprise. He held his tongue, amazed by the confident way
India
carried herself. She didn’t flinch at The Genie’s outlandish prices. Her voice didn’t falter when her more reasonable offers were met with mocking laughter. She looked the old man in the eyes and stood her ground with such expertise,
that
for a moment
,
Cain forgot she was a gentle-born lady and not a battle-hardened member of the working class far more experienced with haggling over prices in the marketplace.
He leaned a hip on the table and absently stroked the lizard’s head.
“One hundred and sixty, and not a shilling more.”
Still a lofty sum for a creature she could catch if she wandered into the wilds outside town. But then, catching her own wouldn’t hold the same thrill. And
as he watched her
,
Cain began to realize
that was exactly what pushed her on
—the t
hrill of the conquest. Much like the same excitement that had once flowed in his veins when he spied a distant ship. He experienced a similar delight doing much the same when he bartered for great shipments of goods in foreign lands.
The old man shook his head. “Nay. One
-
eighty it be.”
India
let out a sigh and gave the lizard a forlorn look. With one more fond stroke to its
head
, she turned her back on The Genie. “Let’s be off, Cain,” she said softly. “I believe I’m finished here.”
It took Cain a second to recover from her sudden change of heart. When he did, he observed the sorrow in her voice wasn’t completely false. The bright gleam to her eyes had faded, and in the dim light, Cain’s heart twisted. He’d give the bastard two hundred if it would restore
India
’s happy smile.
Would have, if she hadn’t taken a determined stride toward the stall’s open front. He hurried to catch up with her before she ducked under the canopy and entered the darkened street again.
“One seventy-five,” The Genie called after them.
India
stopped, but she didn’t look back. “One
-
sixty.”
The Genie muttered beneath his breath. Something hard hit the paved stones
at
his feet. “Damn me, ‘tis robbery! I nearly broke me ankle chasin’ down that beast. One
-
sixty, an’ git out o’ me store.”
Joy lit
India
’s face, so bright and brilliant it warmed Cain from the inside out. She whirled around, her long hair catching him across the chest. With a muffled squeal of delight, she rushed toward the table.
Halfway there, she came to an abrupt halt. She looked to him, her eyes wide with horror and her mouth formed into a neat ‘o’.
Cain burst into laughter as the same reason she’d stalled occurred to him. She had no coin. All this work to out-barter one of the most lecherous villains in
Nassau
, and now she possessed no way to pay for her prize.
With a smirk, Cain stuffed his hand into his pocket and closed his fingers around three solid gold coins—easily twice as much as her final offer. He approached the table and slid them toward The Genie. “I presume this will cov
er the cost of the creature, it
s cage, and the bowl of fruit.”
When the old man balked, Cain covered the coins with his hand. Before he could gather them into his palm, The Genie produced a wooden cage just large enough to confine the iguana and gestured at the bowl. “Take it.”
Cain turned the coins over, scooped up the docile reptile, and urged it inside the cage. He twisted the wire latch, picked up the bowl with his other hand, and extended
India
’s prize to her. As she caught hold of the handle, she brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Now, figure out what you’re going to do with this beast when he attains five feet in length.” He steered her out the door.
“Five feet?” she cried in disbelief.
Cain grinned down at her. “Pray he doesn’t reach six. Now, little wren, have you satisfied your appetite for the street?”
Her light laughter reached in to turn his heart upside down. She lifted her lashes, and those amazing eyes glistened like clear pools on a cloudless day. “Yes.”
Relief washed through him. Finally he could relax and not worry about who might try to jump out from the shadows and threaten her. He quickened his pace, anxious to be free of the brigand-filled street.
“I want to see a brothel, and I want to drink a mug or two of rum.”
Every last drop of cheer drained out through the soles of Cain’s feet. Words eluded him. Surely she jested. She
must
. But when he glanced at her serious expression, and realized she didn’t tease, aggravation freed his tongue. “Have you lost your mind?”
“No.” She held his incredulous stare. “My mind is fine. I
wish
to see what all the fuss is about. And good heavens, I must discover how those women cram themselves into those dresses.”
For the love of
Mary
,
India
Prescott
would be the death of him. A brothel, of all the ludicrous things. How could he, in good faith, walk her into a whore house, sit her at a table, and pretend it was the most natural excursion of his life? Worse, how could he sit her down amidst whores and keep eager men from presuming she had a price?
“Oh come now, Cain,” she cajoled. “You soaked me full of spirits when I was ill. What harm can there be in wanting to recall the taste?”
An idea took hold. He’d planned to escort her through the front doors of Old Bess’
s
respectable inn. If he took her through the back, she could experience the tavern. Old Bess’
s
clients were not the usual sort, and her ladies were known throughout
Nassau
. No one would falsely perceive
India
as a new addition. No one would accost her. And the women, if not otherwise engaged, would happily entertain her questions.
Decided, he grasped her hand once more and guided her through a narrow alley to the wider, cleaner, street behind the main thoroughfare to the wharf. Though the noise still carried over the thatched rooftops, and the songs of drunken sailors filled the streets, peacefulness descended on them as they walked. Here the lap of waves against white sand filtered through. The call of wildlife rose above the ruckus. And the silence that spanned between them became the comfortable quiet that two people who deeply understood one another shared.
Cain treasured the walk to Old Bess’ inn, but each step that brought him closer to their lodging, also brought him closer to goodbye. He would remember this night a lifetime. Recall it in his dreams. The way she’d bartered, the childlike excitement on her face, her silly impulsive pet.