His mate was standing inside, a tall, heavy man with beetling brows, a man who obviously tried hard to emulate his Captain.
"Well?" Brace demanded.
"None of my business," the mate answered, shrugging, "but I think you should have given it to them. What crust! 'May we look your ship over?' I'd have let them look over the end of my fist!"
Brace bared his teeth in anticipation of the effect of his words. "I couldn't," he growled. "The girl's in my cabin." Then he pushed by the astonished mate, turned in the companionway and burst into a roar of laughter. "Fouled 'em up again!" he shouted.
The mate stared dumbly at Brace for a moment, then shrugging, went off in the other direction.
Brace stood outside his cabin door, speculating. What should he do now? Finding no answer to his question, he opened the door and stepped in.
The girl was sitting on the edge of his bunk. She looked at him, then down at her hands, as though the sight of him was repulsive to her. When she looked up at him again, her level eyes made Brace wince. She didn't seem afraid like he expected her to be. She was defiant.
"I see you're awake," Brace said. He hadn't meant to growl that way, but he couldn't help it.
She clenched her hands and glared at him. "Why didn't you kill me like you did my brother?"