Hart's Reward (Pirates & Petticoats #3) by Chloe Flowers Page B

and kiss away the bitter, caustic tenor of his words. A warmth radiated from her palms. Her hands now rested on his hips. Why couldn’t she keep her head around him? She retreated a hasty step back. Damn that man. She turned and fled.
    His soft laugh drifted to her ears through the quiet calm. “The mice always play while the cat’s away.”
     

    Marcel instructed Keelan to take a bucket of water and a ladle up to the deck for the crew to quench their thirst. Gus gestured her over and reached for the ladle. She surreptitiously eyed Landon from beneath the brim of her floppy hat. The sun glittered across the water and gave his skin a golden glow. He had yet to secure the ties, and his shirt gaped open, revealing the chiseled cut of his chest and a light covering of hair. She swallowed, then dipped the ladle in the bucket and served herself a drink. She dipped the ladle in again for Landon when he approached.
    “I have an idea.” Landon snapped the spyglass closed and drank.
    Gus wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “What plan have ye hatched to give the Glory time to escape once the wind catches her sails, Captain?” He raised a shaggy grey brow.
    Landon’s gaze flickered over Keelan as he dropped the ladle in the bucket. He grinned at his first mate. “Gus, what would you do if you noticed the breath of a breeze after your ship had been still in the water for days?”
    He shrugged. “I’d haul the sheets up to the wind as fast as I could.”
    “Aye,” Landon agreed. “But what if that breeze was a stronger gust than you anticipated? What if a squall arose with such force that you worried it would flay the sails or tip the boat into the sea?”
    “Could that happen?” she asked, dubiously. “Could the wind blow up so fast that it would catch the sails and fling the boat over?”
    “Oh, aye, young Mr. Mahdi.” Gus nodded emphatically, his bristled cheeks spread into a grin. “It could indeed. And has! A gale off the coast is most unpredictable. If it catches too much sail at the wrong angle, it would tip a vessel over as easy as you could tip an empty ale bottle with your finger.”
    Gus moved away and began to pace while scratching his salt and pepper beard. “If my ship be caught in the doldrums, I’d have my sails up full, to catch any puff of blow that may come my way.” He frowned pensively. “But, if a strong wind blew in from shore and took me by surprise, I’d order the sails drawn in and furled, to avoid pitching the ship or tearing the sails. Any good captain would do the same.”
    “Exactly!” Landon responded, eyes alight. “Any good captain would do the same.”
    “I don’t understand,” she said. “How does that help Captain Hall and his ship?”  
    Landon seemed a little surprised by her question, or surprised she was interested enough to ask it. “Eventually, the stillness of the sea will be interrupted by a gust of wind, or a whisper of breeze. It can’t stay like this forever. When the wind picks up, we can make it look as if it took us by surprise and we were hit by a great gust. The ship will tip; we’ll haul up the sails by the brails and clew lines in apparent confusion, as if it was impossible to carry a yard of canvas.”
    Gus nodded, his eyes bright. “Then we’ll drop our sheets, to make it seem we are trying to save them from being shredded by the wind.”
    “The British ships will witness our apparent panic and they’ll mimic us in anticipation of receiving the same gust.” Landon locked eyes with Keelan and he grinned. For the thousandth time, the spell he cast with his smile made her heart jump.
    “Except, we will not have fully dropped our sails in said panic,” Gus continued, excited now. “But instead, we’ll merely allow the sheets to willow on to the deck for a few moments. As soon as the British have hastily dropped or, we hope in their panic, cut their sails free, we will raise ours and catch the wind and be on our merry way before the Brits can