***
After the ambush, shirking chores while her uterus sloughed off last month’s cells, Eugenia stayed in her room until her period was over. When she emerged, tired of staring at the walls with nothing to do, and tired of not sleeping, she went to Joan and accepted the night’s outfit.
Naughty nurse—chosen by the captain himself, no less.
At Table #2, staring at the white tablecloth she’d be washing later, resentment pinned her tongue to the roof of her mouth.
A hand landed on hers, shaking her out of the gloom. “All the new girls go through this. In a week or two, you’ll be your old self again. Neil was a nice guy, but he knew better.”
Dragging her eyes up took more effort than it should have. “What about Neil?”
The guest said it again. “He knew better.”
But that would mean...
“Excuse me, I need to…” Inelegantly climbing from the cookie sheet, the lap, and over the other men in the way, she muttered, “use the ladies room.”
Of course the captain was standing there, leaning against the wall. One leg crossed over the other as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Tipping his chin, he greeted her, “Eugenia.”
None of it made sense. None of it. “What if I had actually liked him?”
“Then I would have let you go.”
Unsure why she was crying, especially where people could see, she said, “All he wanted was to hold a baby and be a daddy. He told me so six times at least!”
“And all you wanted was that one special guy to give your virginity to and live happily ever after.”
Senseless murder because some schmuck fancied a woman who didn’t like him back? “How could you?”
“You’re unattainable. Three hundred men will grasp that now.” Scratching his unshaven chin, he added, “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Did he suffer?”
“No. Never saw it coming. I told him he could have you, then shot him in the head as he walked away. Happiest I’ve ever seen him.”
There was no lie in it. Because as far as she had seen, neither of them had ever lied to one another. “I’m going to throw up.”
Pushing open the door, he murmured, “Go on in then. Take the night off. I’ll have Joan check on you later.”
On her bed in her tiny, private room were both volumes of Nelson’s Textbook of Pediatrics. Old friends she’d missed terribly. Old friends she fell asleep clutching to her chest as she curled up in the fetal position. Too tired to even climb under the blankets.
It was dark, late when the door opened and a weight sat at her side.
Warm hand landing on her hip, he sighed but said nothing. Did nothing but sit there with her, the sound of water lapping at the side of the ship.
“He wouldn’t have made you happy.”
Death grip on her textbooks, lashes salty from dried tears, Eugenia said nothing.
Chapter Five
No stunt she pulled, public or private, could entice the captain to hit her again. To hurt her, to do something other than just be around. No matter how far she pushed or the damage she wrought, she couldn’t get the bastard to raise his fist.
She broke every plate she could get her hands on in the kitchens.
He moved her to another portion of the boat, under guard, to make pottery. Which apparently the other ladies enjoyed and had failed to mention to the mentally unstable newcomer. The psychology was obvious. It was harder to break something she’d made, watched fired in a kiln, and held in her hands. But she did that too.
She’d slapped the captain right in the face in the middle of one of his dinner parties. Only for him to catch her hand and kiss her palm. Patting her on the rump, and he sent her back to Table #2.