Demons & Pearls (The Razor's Adventures Book 1) by P.S. Bartlett Page B

We’re back to that again,” Keara grumbled.  She used the hem of her dress to fan herself until the rain began to fall harder. “How much further, Watts? We’re going to drown before we get there. Four weeks on a bloody ship only to drown in a wagon.”
    “It’s just up ahead, miss.”
    I’d heard enough complaining. “Listen to me, all of you. I promise you, this is only temporary. None of you will be cooking or cleaning anything for anyone but yourselves once I find us our own place and…”
    “And what?” Cassandra snapped at me.
    “And I figure out how to make some money without doing that,” I said as I waved my hand in the direction of another bare breast in the doorway of yet another brothel. “Or anything else that involves baring…anything.”
    “I trust you, Ivory. I know you won’t let us down.” Miranda scooted next to me and laid her damp, red head on my shoulder. “Ivory, what do you think this wife of his might be like?”
    “Considering the Captain’s age, I’d imagine she’s gray-haired, probably right thick in the middle, and since he seems like a rather fair and reasonable man overall, I’m sure she’s quite a pleasant lady.”
    I’d no sooner finished my imagined description of Lady McCormack, when Watts pulled the horses to a stop and announced that we’d arrived. This was not a modest home. Obviously, the Captain had been quite successful during his career as a pirate. Either that, or someone died and left him quite an inheritance. The house stood two stories of well-maintained brick, trimmed with white shutters, and was surrounded by a wall about six feet high with iron gates in front. A young Jamaican boy rushed to open the gates, and Watts guided the two mules that pulled the wagon, right up to the front porch.
    Palm trees swayed in the front yard under the light breeze that arrived with the rain. The pathway was rimmed with brightly colored flowers the likes I’d never laid eyes on, cuddled by lush green ferns and bushes. There were several fruit trees as well, in full bloom. An older Jamaican woman dressed neatly and covered down the front in a white apron waited to meet us at the porch.
    “Come along, ladies. I got only one thing ta’ say to ye, and ye better heed me words,” the Captain said as he brought his horse around the side of the wagon to speak to us. “Lady McCormack will tolerate no sass, no laziness…and no bullshit. Ye understand? Cause if ye don’t, ye’ll be out on yer little round arses quicker than ye can say ‘Davey Jones’.”
    “Davey who?” Miranda asked.
    “It doesn’t matter, Mir.” I shook my head.
    I was pleased that I wouldn’t be the only one watching over this lot, but I immediately threw all of my preconceived ideas of the Lady McCormack out of the back of that wagon and pulled the girls aside before we were invited in. “No nonsense, and I promise I’ll have us out of here within the month. Now, you give me your word you’ll do as I say.”
    “Ye ladies wait here while I break the news ta’ Missus McCormack.” The Captain greeted the Jamaican woman with a smile and disappeared inside. I continued my lecture at the girls and met no resistance. We were soaked through to our skin. We twisted and wrung at our clothing but regardless of our efforts, the rain water still dripped from our hems and hair. They were all so grateful to be off that ship and out of that rickety wagon that they’d have promised me anything for a hot meal and a bath. Fortunately, Lady McCormack had offered us both, but not before she, unfortunately, laid down the law. Lady McCormack was no sweet, gray-haired old woman.
    Standing on the porch, we could hear the fine Millie McCormack. Her vocabulary was less than ladylike, and her tone was that of an angry cat on a back fence about to claw the eyes out of her rival. Watts stood off to the side and simply shrugged his shoulders when I looked over at him and mouthed, “What the hell?”
    “You girls be