A Captain and a Rogue. Liz Tyner

few of my men still cannot swim. The ones who have been with me longest, when we’re in warm ports that are not well populated, I have commanded them to learn. But near people, the water carries away the waste. You’d not willingly immerse yourself.’

      She looked the tall one over carefully. An officer’s coat contrasted with the seaman’s duck trousers, the legs tucked into scuffed knee boots. Wind whipped hair with strands of lightness, possibly put there by some spirit running her fingers through while he slept. Small whiskers at the sides, but trimmed, near his ears.

      He did look pleasing to the eyes. Better than the usual men she saw.

      His nose wasn’t broken. He had teeth. Both ears. No scarring. A bit odd, that, but then he was from a country where the men rode horses instead of using their own legs, worked with ledgers and wore flounces around their necks. But this one left off his lace. Near the string tying the neck of his shirt closed she saw darkened skin, almost like a man from her own country.

      Even though she couldn’t fault the man his appearance, he needed to leave Melos. The men who docked on the island were refuse tossed out by their own countries. If they’d been worth anything, someone would have kept them at home.

      ‘If yer mermaid had a tail when she was afloat, might ’uv been a bit sharp at the end—pointy like,’ the older one said quietly, one brow twitching aslant.

      ‘With such perfection of face and form, one can’t be too upset that there’s a flaw somewhere,’ the captain answered. Then he gave her a smile which she was certain would help any woman overlook his heritage.

      She realised her sister could be sitting in their home at that very moment. Just because she wasn’t with the men didn’t mean she hadn’t returned with them. ‘Did you bring Melina?’ The words rushed from her lips and her eyes locked on him. She moved two steps towards the trail to the house before he answered.

      ‘No,’ the captain stated. ‘She married my brother and we feared the trip for her as she could be adding to the nursery. Her first trip did not do her well, and since she is already having seasickness on dry ground, she couldn’t manage another sail.’

      ‘She’s gonna drop a babe on the ground real soon. Doing herself proud,’ the older one said. He looked too bland and spoke too sweetly. ‘Knows a woman’s place.’

      ‘Nothos.’ She bit out the word. They had let her sister stay behind—or forced her. Surely Melina had been forbidden passage if she did not return. And the child. That meant Melina had sold herself to a man. Her sister had sacrificed for family.

      Gidley leaned his head to Benjamin and spoke from the side of his mouth. ‘I don’t think that was praisin’ me on either one of my parents bein’ wed. Maybe if we toss her into the sea she’ll turn back into a mermaid and swim away.’

      ‘But then we would lose this charming creature,’ Benjamin said and tilted his head in acknowledgement.

      Thessa looked at the man, then let her eyes move skyward to dismiss his flattery.

      The captain’s lips quirked up. ‘It takes more than two sea ravaged men to impress a mermaid.’

      She waved an arm, indicating the gnarled olive trees and scrubby grasses behind her, and then pointed to the cragged rocks rising majestically from the edge of the perfect sea and the water itself. ‘I live with this every day. I am not easily impressed.’

      ‘I wouldn’t prefer a woman who was,’ the captain said, and in that moment, he looked away from her.

      But just before his head turned, something sparked behind his eyes, watching her in such a way her breath caught and warmth tickled in her body. She took half a step back and squared her shoulders.

      ‘What do you want?’ Thessa asked.

      ‘Melina said you could show us to the artefacts. The stones.’

      She raised her brows. ‘Artefacts. For an Englishman? The island is covered with rocks. Take your pick. They are all valuable to me.’

      They were, but only as places to put her feet. She was more concerned for her stomachi. The rocks couldn’t save her now.

      Marriage to Stephanos would not be so bad. She would have the home he was building. She would have a friendship with his mother. She would have food to eat. And she would learn not to breathe the spoiled air when Stephanos stood near.

       Chapter Two

      Benjamin imagined his plans for ownership in the Ascalon sinking and he felt his resolve harden. His fingers tightened on the bag he’d brought. This woman had to help him. And Gid was right. She did have a pointy-tailed look on her face, more like Boadicea ready to eviscerate her enemy than any water creature. He liked her much better when she was in the sea.

      ‘I’m sure all the rocks are quite precious at one’s birthplace,’ he said. ‘But this particular rock has the likeness of a woman’s face on it and Melina uncovered it near your home. She wasn’t able to take it with her on her voyage to England and I’ve returned with funds to purchase it from the man who owns the land.’

      Thessa gave a shrug. ‘You did not let my sister return. I will not help you.’ She nodded towards the sea. ‘And you should be on your way. Because I have no intention of giving the treasure to you. I do not know if Melina requested the rock or if you have locked her away somewhere. She could be a prisoner on your ship.’

      Benjamin didn’t say a word. This was why he liked his imagined mermaids. They never spoke. They never argued. And they were always gone when his dream ended.

      ‘Didn’t think of that, now, did ye, Capt’n?’ Gidley’s cheeks puffed with humour.

      Her dark eyes challenged Benjamin. But even if she pointed a flintlock at his heart, he was not moving.

      Without the stones Melina claimed to have found buried just below the land’s surface, it would be a decade or more before he could hope to buy his brother’s share of the ship. By then the Ascalon’s hull would be ravaged by sea worms.

      And his sister-by-law desperately wanted the stones—claimed the face resembled her mother and believed, in some long-ago time, a member of her family had posed for it.

      He didn’t care who’d posed for the rocks—they were stone. Colourless. Lifeless. Bland. But if collecting mouse whiskers from the island would get him his ship, he’d be hunting mice. He would take on the whole island if he had to in order to get his Ascalon.

      He’d been told by Gidley many times that fortune had favoured Benjamin his looks and kicked Gid in the teeth. Benjamin had hardly passed his sixteenth year when Gid had suggested Ben give a tavern wench a most indelicate proposition and a smile, and see what happened. Ben had assured Gidley that no woman would accept such a brash offer. He delivered the words and was half in love by morning when Gid had thumped on the wench’s door to awaken Ben. For the whole of the next voyage, Gid had ducked his eyes, shook his head and grumbled about the fates. Ben had grinned back at him each time.

      Benjamin watched Thessa, then he smiled.

      Her eyes narrowed and she took a step back.

      Gidley’s snigger did not hide well under the cough.

      Ben changed tactics and then clasped Gidley’s shoulder. ‘My first mate is superstitious. And he believes, if he casts his eyes on this stone woman, our vessel will be protected from storms.’

      She looked as if they’d just suggested she collect all the mice whiskers in the world.

      ‘Wouldn’t hurt,’ Gid said. He patted the decades-old waistcoat he’d worn in anticipation of impressing the females on the island and lifted the hem and pulled a handkerchief from his waistband. The handkerchief probably hadn’t started out as the colour of wet sand. ‘Thought if I could wipe her face with this, I’d have