I couldn’t believe it. Was this truly the life of a lady? Gifts of silver, falling into your lap?

Izra exploded through a hatch and came running with a pewter cup. He was skinnier than the wind, with dark skin that gleamed in the sunlight. He handed me the cup, flashing a smile full of missing milk teeth. I took it and drank it half down before my throat lit with burning coals. It was watered rum—and not much watered—but I finished it, not about to be choosy. In a blink, the heat seeped into my veins.

“My dear,” the captain continued, “in such circumstances ’tis best to speak in plain terms. The Paladin was a total loss. Every soul aboard perished. Every life was lost but yours. Your beloved father has passed on to the realm of heaven. I understand he was your sole relation. I met him only once but knew him to be a perfect gentleman and, well, I am sorrier than I can possibly express. Please be assured that it is my most fixed purpose to see to your protection until other arrangements are made.”

He blew out a long breath and blinked at the tears in his pearly eyes.

I remained silent, thinking of the real Miss Coates. How Mercy and I had rushed to unpin her gown and tug off her petticoats. We had stripped her to her shift and then pulled her out into water, where she wouldn’t be spotted. As we’d done it, I’d prayed for God’s forgiveness. Even now, my heart hurt to remember how I’d disrespected her. But I couldn’t imagine any other way I’d have survived the night.

The captain cleared his throat. “You must want some time to yourself. Izra will stay close should you need anything.” The planks creaked under his weight as he stood. “Perhaps you’ll join me this evening for dinner? There is much to consider with regard to your future.”

I nodded. I needed information and food. I hoped there’d be troughs of both.

Around me, men swabbed the deck. They scoured pots and pulled hemp from old ropes to make oakum. Never had I sat while others worked. Soon the singing began again, but it was only one man this time, up at the helm, singing about a lost true love, his voice so pretty I wanted to cry and cry over it.

A breeze puffed at the sails above me, carrying me away from home. To where? Soon as this voyage was over, I’d have to care for myself, but how? The skills I had wouldn’t help me. Wrecking wasn’t proper work for girls. I’d only been able to carry on in West End ’cause on an island inhabited by criminals, runaways, and disgraced women, a wayward girl scarcely deserved mention.

Maybe I could knock on doors till I found work as a maid? But who’d bring an orphaned girl into their home—a girl without a single person to vouch for her character?