Love in Neverland: Book 2 in The Neverland Trilogy (3 page)

“She speaks!” he exclaimed.  The look Magdalena gave him would have sounded like sarcasm if he could hear it.  He cleared his throat as the rest of his crew filed out behind him.  “The Black Star is currently detained.”

“Do you know where?” the blonde asked, tilting her head to the side and keeping her eyes focused firmly on his.  They were a midnight blue, he realized.  Almost brown, if one was not looking close enough.

“I do,” he said with one nod.

“We need it,” she said.

“We?” Nick asked.  “Listen, I thank you for what you’ve done for me and my crew but I cannot have you on board my ship.  I do not know you.  I do not trust you.”

“I can get you your ship back,” Magdalena told him, and her tone sounded certain.  “All I ask is for passage on your ship for an indeterminate amount of time.  You can go back to being a wanted man in every port in The Neverland and ferrying souls.”

Nick gave her a cheeky grin.  “So you’ve heard of me?” he asked.

She did not respond to his charm.  Instead, she reached out her arm and offered her hand.  “Do we have an accord?” she asked.

Nick paused.  He really had no other choice.  He needed a ship and had no prospects to get her back.  She was his only hope.  As such, he placed his hand over hers and kept his eyes firmly in hers.  They were beautiful eyes, he decided.  But girls with pretty eyes were the toughest to trust.

Chapter 3

Remy kept track of each day that passed by writing down everything she could.  She had requested a journal, and Hook granted it with some flippant comment about girls keeping track of their feelings.  She wanted to correct him and remind him that she was actually a woman and not some girl, but she decided it was wise to keep her mouth shut since she got what she wanted.  Also, if he believed her feelings were trivial, he might disregard the journal or forget she even had it in the first place.  He seemed distracted anyway.  His mind was elsewhere.  In fact, Remy had seen little of him the past week.  He rarely stepped out of his captain’s quarters; what he was doing in there was anyone’s guess.

Even though she was technically a prisoner, Remy had free reign of the ship.  She wasn’t forbidden to a room; nothing was off-limits.  Everyone was respectful of her presence; she did not feel threatened or in danger.  If she had a complaint about anything, it was boredom.  However, that was fixed when Pam, her personal maid, showed her the library.  She had never been a fan of reading for pleasure, but Remy was growing to like it.

Pam was timid and quiet, shy and hesitant.  If she had a choice, Remy would guess the poor girl would choose to keep to herself.  That particular dreary morning, after a week and one day had passed, Remy decided to try and engage the girl in more than a one-sided conversation.  If anything, it would pass the time.  Remy was starting to pace to do
something
.

“Pam,” Remy said when Pam came to inform her about supper.  “How old are you?”

Pam looked at her feet, her sharp cheeks tainted red.  The girl could not be more than fourteen, which mean she died at an extremely young age.  Remy could feel her heart breaking for Pam.  And, for some reason, Pam had yet to move on.  Instead, she was here, serving as a makeshift handmaiden on Hook’s ship of otherwise respectable members of The Neverland society.  Remy had no seen a speck of dirt, a book out of alphabetical order, any food on the floor.  It was completely unlike Nick’s ship.

Nick
…

She wondered how he was, what he was doing, if he spared a thought for her at all…

That’s not fair, Remy
, she thought to herself. 
You gave yourself up for him.  You should not expect him to dwell on you when he should be focused on living his life – whatever life meant here – was.

“Fifteen, mum,” Pam replied, breaking Remy out of her thoughts – for now.  She knew when she was alone, she would more than likely revisit Nick and her conflicting feelings for the pirate later.  For now, she would turn her attention on Pam.

“Mum?” Remy asked, aghast.  “Surely I’m not old enough to be called mum.  Remy is fine.  I hope you and I can be better acquainted, Pam.  Perhaps you can tell me more about Captain Hook.  I know nothing of the man, yet everyone knows who he is.  Might you divulge some information?”

Remy watched as the young girl’s cheeks turned red, and she played with her fingers behind her back.  Everything about Pam looked tightly wound – like a jack in the box, ready to spring up when the lid popped open.  Remy had always detested those deplorable children’s toy.  They did not amuse her in the slightest and nearly gave her a heart attack even though she knew to expect the surprise every time. 

The more Remy studied Pam, the more she realized Pam was trying to minimize her body as much as possible.  She wanted to disappear.  She did not want to be seen.  Was she shy, or had something happened to inspire such cautious behavior?

She’s a woman
, her mother’s voice said in Remy’s mind with her patented sneer. 
Cautious behavior is expected.

Remy had to refrain from rolling her eyes.  There were certain things her mother was an expert at, but this particular opinion was one in which Remy must disagree.  She did not believe that because she was a woman, she should be more protective of her person.  She knew that that was how this world worked, regardless of how it should be, but Remy did not think it fair that a man could walk around without worrying if he would be harassed or violated in some manner while women should expect it.

“There really is not much to say,” Pam said.  “He runs a tight ship.  He’s highly respected and admired.  He’s a good leader.”

“What does he want with me?” Remy asked.  Her voice came out more insistent than she intended, but she did not apologize for her question.

Despite their initial conversation, James had yet to explain to her why her presence was required, where they were going, and what he wanted to do with her.  It did not seem as though he were interested in violating her in any way.  She did not feel threatened though his eyes – those marble-like eyes that were both cold and captivating and could quite possibly see straight through her soul – lingered on her to the point of discomfort.

As uncomfortable as his gaze made her feel, she could not help but ponder at the prospect of using his interest in her to her advantage. Her mother had made it part of her daily education to read body language and gauge what a man wanted and how she could provide it for him. Obviously, her mother had hoped Remy would use this knowledge to seduce potential suitors, but she could use it now to acquire information and perhaps trust.  Remy was not a perfect person; in fact, many would call her spoiled. Nick and his crew had upon her arrival. It was something Remy knew she needed to work on. However, because she had been spoiled, she knew how to get what she wanted from different people. She could adapt. All she needed was to observe said person and understand them a little deeper than the superficial characteristics they projected to the public. If she could get James to trust her just a bit, she might be able to persuade him to tell her, at the very least, why she was here in the first place.

It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was a plan nonetheless, and one she could put into action.

"That is not for me to say," Pam said, breaking Remy out of her thoughts.

Remy looked over at Pam and remembered she had asked the girl a question.

"Of course, Pam," she said, offering her a small smile. "I must apologize for my direct line of questioning. If you're feeling put on the spot, that was not my intention. I feel as though you are the only other woman's aboard the ship, and I feel a closeness to you. Perhaps we can be friends or, at least, acquaintances. I feel as though I can trust you."

From the little Remy knew of Pam, the girl kept to herself and did not like any attention of any kind. Remy still did not know if that was because she was shy or cautious, or both. Perhaps if she could befriend Pam, she might have an ally of sorts here.

"That would be a mistake," Pam told her, her voice cold, her eyes hard as stone. The look on her face surprised Remy and she took a step back. Her eyes narrowed, and she realized Pam was more than just a shy girl. "I am not sure why you believe I would tell you anything, even if Captain Hook would deign to tell me his intentions with you. We are not friends, and just because we are the same sex does not mean we will become friends. I do not like to talk to people I am not close to - I'm introverted and I would appreciate you being sensitive to that. In fact, this is the most I've spoken to anyone in a long while, and I know you don't understand what that's like, but my insides are shaking. So please. If I can assist you with the clothing or if you need anything, I am here to help. I am not here to be your friend. Are we clear?"

Remy could not help his wide her eyes grew as Pam spoke to her.  She was stronger than she appeared, firm in her words and conviction.  Remy could not help but feel a grudging bout of respect start to prickle inside of her.  She also felt slightly guilty for pushing Pam to speak to her when Pam would rather remain silent.  Remy thought she was helping Pam by breaking her out of her shell, but perhaps some shells wanted to remain solid.  She could respect that as well.

“Now,” Pam said, her voice returning to its natural octave.  She seemed small once more, natural.  “Since you are still recovering from your injuries, James has sent me to help you dress.  He wishes to dine with you for supper tonight, to discuss things.”

“What sort of things?” Remy asked before she could stop herself.  At Pam’s admonishing look, Remy smiled.  “Sorry, Pam.  I tend to get a little enthusiastic.”

“I’ve noticed,” Pam muttered as she walked over to the wardrobe.  “Would you like me to pick something out for you, or do you prefer to do it yourself?”

“I’ll do it,” Remy said, standing up.  It was still a strain on her muscles to move thusly, but she forced herself to do so.  She needed to move if she was ever to recover.  “You might pick out something atrocious for me as a way to punish me for my lack of sensitivity and I can’t have that.  Although Magdalena really does not have much of a selection of dresses here.  I suppose beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Magda preferred pantaloons and tunics,” Pam said, and to Remy, it appeared as though Pam did not realize she was sharing information by choice.  “It helped her move around the ship more easily.”

“Magdalena seems like an active person,” Remy ventured, pretending to sort through the clothes.  She already knew Magda was only in possession of three dresses – a green one, a purple one, and a blue one – and Remy knew she was going to wear the green one.  It was demure without being prudish, and it teased at her silhouette without giving everything away.  It most likely would not fit her perfectly, but it would have to do.  For now.

“She is,” Pam agreed.  “And fast.  When she practiced swords with the captain, it’s hard to take your eyes off of her, the way she flits around the deck.  I swear, sometimes I really believe she can fly.”

It was then that Pam realized what she was doing, and covered her mouth with her hand.  Her eyes narrowed at Remy, and she turned her attention back to the clothes.

“Can we focus on the task at hand?” she insisted.  “The captain detests tardiness.”

“Of course, Pam,” Remy said with a grin.  “I prefer the green dress, but I defer to your good judgment.”

--

Remy sat in the green dress, her posture perfect.  While Pam was no Beatrice, the girl did her best and pinning her hair up and tying her corset.  She managed to see her reflection in a small mirror and found she did not actually look bad.  Pretty, even.  Not as stunning as she could look, but pretty nonetheless.  She could work with pretty. 

James swooped in, much more regal than the captain he was, and took his seat across the long dining table from Remy.  The instant he was seated, a servant poured wine for both Remy and James, and two more served the food.  Remy watched as a woman piled a porcelain plate with roast beef, potatoes, salad, and fruit.  Her stomach screamed at the sight of it.  She had not realized just how hungry she was until food was thrust in her face.

“A toast,” James said, once the food was served and the servants had vanished.  It was just the two of them, and Remy was not sure if that was such a good idea.  Not after the thoughts she had had the last time she had been with the pirate captain.  He raised his goblet of wine and tilted his head to her.  “To your presence, and your health.  Besides a few bumps and bruises, you are healing quite nicely.”

Remy lifted her glass in response.  “Pam is quite skilled in a variety of subjects,” she said.

James’s lips curled up, and he nodded once, before taking a sip of the wine.  Remy followed suit, keeping her eyes focused firmly on the man in front of her.

“Speaking of my presence on the ship,” Remy said once she swallowed the velvet liquid.  “Why am I here?”

James choked on his drink, but his eyes danced with amusement.  Instead of eating, as Remy set out to do, he leaned back in his chair and simply observed the woman before him.

“You’re direct,” he remarked.  Remy was not sure how to respond to that; luckily, she had food in her mouth, so did not feel a response was warranted.  She continued chewing, slowly, choosing her words carefully.  More than that, she wanted the timing of her spoken words to be opportunistic as well.  “I like that.”

Now, he placed a piece of meat in his mouth and chewed, all while smiling.  He had a beautiful smile, she decided, and that might very well be her downfall.  She always had a weakness for charm and beauty.

“Enough to tell me why I’m here?” Remy asked, trying to charm him herself.