The Huntress ✓

33. Friendship

Bronte sat dozing in the overstuffed chair, her head turned toward the open window as the sweet ocean air drifted in.

It was after breakfast and she was alone for once. Lucien had gone to the docks, transporting a load of Johnstonen's belongings.

She woke abruptly, letting her head fall back against the chair in frustration. She was irritated at herself for needing a nap so early in the day.

A quiet knock sounded at the door. One of the young maids peeked her head around the door as she pushed it quietly open. Her eyes went first to the large four-poster; seeing it empty, she scanned the room.

As her searching gaze found Bronte's she immediately tucked her chin and mumbled an apology for disturbing her.

Bronte wondered why the girl seemed so timid toward her. "What is it?"

"Someone to see you. Shall I tell him your asleep, miss?"

"But I already know she's not," proclaimed a smooth tenor voice from behind the maid.

Bronte smiled hesitantly as Sam stepped from behind the door. He was dressed smartly in a white ruffled shirt, wearing tall leather boots, folded down at the tops, over coffee-colored breaches belted with a russet sash at his waist. A dagger Bronte hadn't seen before was tucked in the top of the sash and Bronte wondered how many knives were hidden in its folds. The maid gave Sam a blushing smile and then curtsied as she slipped out.

"—and besides," Sam continued as he covered the space between them, "think how terrible you'd feel when you found out you turned away your best mate."

Bronte swallowed hard. She could only hope he was implying what she thought he was. She answered hopefully, "A friend who's seen fit to forgive a serious breach of said friendship?"

Sam looked at her with an expression she couldn't read. It was almost sad.

"Sam, I'm so sorr—" Bronte began but Sam interrupted.

"No, Bronte, it's me who should apologize." His eyes took on a pleading look. "I'd no right to turn my back on you; I understand why you kept your secret, even though I wish you would have trusted me with it. I was wrong to think I could discard our friendship. That is, if you still want to be friends with a pig-headed, woman-chasing, scoundrel?" he added with a half-smirk.

"It wasn't I who said that, if you remember; and besides, I thought you were a charming, self-assured, God-given gift to all womankind." Bronte smirked back.

Sam smiled winningly at her, "I am; of course, I wonder if you include yourself now in all womankind?" he said as he pulled a chair up next to hers.

"Now?" she chuckled. "Sam, ya thick-headed lout, I've not just become a woman. I've always been one. And if you think back, I think you'll find I've been successfully surviving your charm for some time now."

"That's only because I never tried to charm you," he said thoughtfully. "Otherwise you would've been quite as helpless as all the rest."

She harumphed but was too tired to continue the tirade. She was just thankful he'd forgiven her.

"I heard you've an exciting tale. You've been having adventures without me," she accused. "There wouldn't happen to be one about rescuing a doomed pirate crew among them?"

Sam smiled widely. "Truth is, I didn't have to do much rescuing at all, though that's what I set out for."

Bronte settled in to listen to his tale.

"I put together a hasty crew on one of Bellemare's ships after I heard one of Bart's crewman say our boys were to be sold to the Dutch."

Lucien hadn't mentioned anything about Sam taking a ship. Bronte was surprised by this, but smiled mischievously. Did Lucien know? She also wondered if Sam realized how much he had changed. Setting out on his own to challenge a ship of slavers? That wasn't something the old Sam would have done.