She plucked a grape and chewed, filling her mouth with tart sweetness. Unable to help herself, she plucked an entire handful and shoved it into her mouth, then wiped the juice from her chin with the back of her hand.

“Good?” he asked.

She swallowed, unwilling to admit they were delicious. “Where are you taking me?”

“We call it Jackson’s Hell—”

“Your den of thieves.”

“Not exactly.” His black eyes watched her as he swigged his rum, while the ship continued to sway to and fro, the howl of the wind growing. “When we arrive I expect to meet Captain Finnes. He sailed under my command until he grew wealthy enough to purchase his own ship.”

Divana feigned a spit. “A slaver—a man with no soul.”

Vane pushed his chair back and strolled up to her—too close. She stepped away, but he caught her by the hair. “Easy, wench. I’m not planning to hurt you.” He pulled her tresses to his nose and inhaled. “Sweet nectar of womanhood. Finnes will pay thrice for an untouched redheaded woman.”

“Then you’ll be sorely disappointed.” She tugged away, but he held fast, making her roots sear. She clapped her fingers to her scalp. “Release me.”

“Has Cameron bedded you?”

How dare he! “You’re a vile pig!”

Snorting, he pulled harder while he slid a hand over her breast and cupped it, his eyes filled with malice. “Haste not, sweeting.”

She thrust her shoulder forward, knocking his arm away. “Keep your filthy fingers to yourself.”

He chuckled. “I think I have my answer.”

She pursed her lips tightly together as she skirted his writing table. “Sir Cameron will not come for me.”

“Hmm. You are unconvincing.” Vane sauntered forward. “Why were you dressed as a lad?”

“I stowed away. Sir Kennan thought the disguise necessary to keep me safe.”

“From the men or from him?”

Casting her gaze downward, Divana covered her cheeks with her palms, praying her face would not betray the love she harbored for Kennan.

“Honestly I care not whether he follows us, but I reckon he will.”

He cannot! “Why?”

“You tell me.” He drummed his fingers atop some sort of ledger. “Why would Cameron protect a stowaway? Aye, you are a pretty girl, aside from the faint scarring on your cheek.”

Divana covered the marks as she stared at the document beneath his fingertips. At the top, it read The Silver Mermaid — Contents of the Hull. “I-I do not ken what ye mean.”

“Or have you become his dalliance?”

A lead ball dropped to the pit of her stomach. Did the pirate suspect the worst? “I wanted an adventure is all.”

Vane rapped his knuckles on the document, then planted his large palm over the writing. “A woman? Wishing to sail the high seas and risk life and limb, let alone courting scurvy? Was your family unkind?”

Still staring, she read the list above his fingers—2000 silver pieces of eight, 1 chest of gold, 50 barrels of rum, bolts of silk, tapestries… It had to be a complete manifest.