I'm sure."
"Prettier than me."
"I doubt that," Dillahunt said, beckoning her back to the bed with a hooked finger.
She stayed where she was, enjoying the soft breeze on her naked back as it swept through the open window. "She was more womanly," Calloway said, trailing a finger over a disappointingly small breast. "I could pass for a boy."
"So you've said," Dillahunt drawled, rolling his eyes. She had been not-so-subtly hinting at joining his crew since meeting him yesterday. "Never met a boy with skin so smooth as yours."
"I'm as tall as you, Captain," she chuckled. Calloway was two inches shy of six feet, with long legs and strong broad shoulders. Her mother said she had gained her stature from her father, who she boasted was near seven feet tall. Jacqueline's piercing sapphire irises, fair complexion, and the faint smattering of freckles about her nose, however, had been gifts from her mother.
Dillahunt gnawed at a fingernail. "I knew a strumpet taller than Edward Teach," he said between bites.
Calloway recoiled at the name. "Do not speak that name to me," she barked. She had good reason to despise Teach, but she wasn't about to share that with someone she had just met. For all she knew, Dillahunt was one of Teach's spies.
"You have a quarrel with Blackbeard?" Dillahunt said, the crease lengthening in his brow.
"No," she lied. "I've just heard unspeakable things about the man."
"Exaggerations mostly," Dillahunt replied. "But not all. He is exceedingly dangerous."
"I told you not to talk about him."
"Fine," he said, raising his hands innocently. "My point was I knew a very tall strumpet. Of course, her hips were wider than yours. Too wide for my tastes. I'd hate to see the plump bastards she popped out of those things."
Calloway ran her fingers through her straight raven hair, which reached all the way to her waist. "If my hair was shorter and I wore boy's clothing, you wouldn't know the difference. There is very little that separates a boy's face from a woman's."
"I can't say I've ever been aroused by a boy," Dillahunt replied, spitting out a curl of fingernail.
"Maybe you have and didn't know it."
"That would be most alarming," he muttered to himself, as if experiencing a revelation. "Where would you stick the bloody thing, anyway? Jesus! I'd not blame a man for taking a cutlass to himself and flinging his cock to the sea, should such urges arise. The choice between a cock that excites for men and no cock at all . . . well that's not really a choice, is it?"
"I can't say," Calloway shrugged. "I don't have one."
"Precisely the reason you are absent clothing in my room."
"It seems to me," she said, tapping her chin with her index finger, "that the only real difference between men and women is what's found betwixt our legs."
Dillahunt screwed up his face. "This conversation has taken a turn for the unpleasant." He retrieved his gun and suddenly became preoccupied with polishing the already spotless silver sloops.
"Well, that and tits," she went on, lowering her head to gander at her own bust, "which I don't have a whole lot of." She checked them often, for fear they might vanish if she didn't. She had hoped they would increase with age, but they had stubbornly refused.
"I'd like my hat back," Dillahunt muttered childishly, refusing to look at her.
Calloway turned and set her palms on the windowsill, inhaling the morning air. Port Nassau was a bustle of activity below, as it always was after a hanging. Nothing brought out the liveliness in a town like an execution. Villagers were conversing with one another in the markets, navy sentries were stealing gossip while patrolling the docks with their long rifles, and several children were playing with turtles on the bright white sands of the beach.
The port was much cleaner now than when Calloway had first arrived a year prior. Many structures had been reinforced and repainted, and the town was beginning to distinguish itself from the lush jungle surrounding
"Prettier than me."
"I doubt that," Dillahunt said, beckoning her back to the bed with a hooked finger.
She stayed where she was, enjoying the soft breeze on her naked back as it swept through the open window. "She was more womanly," Calloway said, trailing a finger over a disappointingly small breast. "I could pass for a boy."
"So you've said," Dillahunt drawled, rolling his eyes. She had been not-so-subtly hinting at joining his crew since meeting him yesterday. "Never met a boy with skin so smooth as yours."
"I'm as tall as you, Captain," she chuckled. Calloway was two inches shy of six feet, with long legs and strong broad shoulders. Her mother said she had gained her stature from her father, who she boasted was near seven feet tall. Jacqueline's piercing sapphire irises, fair complexion, and the faint smattering of freckles about her nose, however, had been gifts from her mother.
Dillahunt gnawed at a fingernail. "I knew a strumpet taller than Edward Teach," he said between bites.
Calloway recoiled at the name. "Do not speak that name to me," she barked. She had good reason to despise Teach, but she wasn't about to share that with someone she had just met. For all she knew, Dillahunt was one of Teach's spies.
"You have a quarrel with Blackbeard?" Dillahunt said, the crease lengthening in his brow.
"No," she lied. "I've just heard unspeakable things about the man."
"Exaggerations mostly," Dillahunt replied. "But not all. He is exceedingly dangerous."
"I told you not to talk about him."
"Fine," he said, raising his hands innocently. "My point was I knew a very tall strumpet. Of course, her hips were wider than yours. Too wide for my tastes. I'd hate to see the plump bastards she popped out of those things."
Calloway ran her fingers through her straight raven hair, which reached all the way to her waist. "If my hair was shorter and I wore boy's clothing, you wouldn't know the difference. There is very little that separates a boy's face from a woman's."
"I can't say I've ever been aroused by a boy," Dillahunt replied, spitting out a curl of fingernail.
"Maybe you have and didn't know it."
"That would be most alarming," he muttered to himself, as if experiencing a revelation. "Where would you stick the bloody thing, anyway? Jesus! I'd not blame a man for taking a cutlass to himself and flinging his cock to the sea, should such urges arise. The choice between a cock that excites for men and no cock at all . . . well that's not really a choice, is it?"
"I can't say," Calloway shrugged. "I don't have one."
"Precisely the reason you are absent clothing in my room."
"It seems to me," she said, tapping her chin with her index finger, "that the only real difference between men and women is what's found betwixt our legs."
Dillahunt screwed up his face. "This conversation has taken a turn for the unpleasant." He retrieved his gun and suddenly became preoccupied with polishing the already spotless silver sloops.
"Well, that and tits," she went on, lowering her head to gander at her own bust, "which I don't have a whole lot of." She checked them often, for fear they might vanish if she didn't. She had hoped they would increase with age, but they had stubbornly refused.
"I'd like my hat back," Dillahunt muttered childishly, refusing to look at her.
Calloway turned and set her palms on the windowsill, inhaling the morning air. Port Nassau was a bustle of activity below, as it always was after a hanging. Nothing brought out the liveliness in a town like an execution. Villagers were conversing with one another in the markets, navy sentries were stealing gossip while patrolling the docks with their long rifles, and several children were playing with turtles on the bright white sands of the beach.
The port was much cleaner now than when Calloway had first arrived a year prior. Many structures had been reinforced and repainted, and the town was beginning to distinguish itself from the lush jungle surrounding
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