Secrets of the Realm Read Online Free Page A

motionless on the blue, red and yellow carpet until…
    Splash! 
    Annie sat up with a start. Captain Hawke stood over her with a dripping tankard in his hand. At first, she did not recognize him without his tricorn hat. She licked the sweet port trickling down her lips before wiping her face on her sleeve.
    Captain Hawke's dark eyebrow jutted upward. "Thought I lost my cabin boy before we even set sail."
    Annie struggled to focus her eyes.
    "You passed out," he said.
    With eyes half shut, Annie's nose twitched in the direction of the captain's half-eaten breakfast.
    "When was the last time you ate a full meal, boy?"
    Her head throbbing, Annie thought a moment. "I can't remember."
    He waved his arm toward the food. "Help yourself."
    Aware the captain was not helping her off the floor, Annie self-consciously crawled to his desk. She pulled herself into a musty-smelling armchair before reaching for the plate and stuffed her mouth with cold eggs, bangers and mash. She swirled her finger around the dish, wiping it clean of the potatoes. Annie then licked her finger up one side and down the other.
    With the food settling in her stomach, Annie looked at the dish and then at the captain. "Oh my, I didn't mean to eat it all."
    He laughed. "Keep eating like that, boy, and we'll fatten you up in no time."
    "Pardon my poor manners."
    He shrugged, leaving Annie to believe he didn't care one way or the other.
    While light streamed through the stern-side windows, Annie scanned the cabin. She took it all in. There was an unmade bed securely attached to the wall and floor, a hammock stowed next to it. For rough days out at sea, she assumed. Unlike the surgeon's quarters, the ceiling was high enough for the captain to stand at his full height.
    Her attention returned to the desk. Amid rolled charts and maps was an assortment of snuffboxes. One intricately carved box caught her eye. Annie reached for it, and then hesitated. "May I?" she asked.
    Captain Hawke dipped his chin.
    She picked up the box, turning it about in her hands. She opened and closed the lid. No tobacco. After examining the carved figures of two men holding swords, she said, "It is beautiful craftsmanship, Captain."
    Through looking at it, she put the box down on the edge of the mahogany desk and slipped off the chair.
    She rested her hand on the corner of the desk. Confident she would not faint again, Annie ventured across the floor. She looked at the sword and knives of various lengths and shapes, some jewel encrusted, displayed on the wall. 
    But it was the bookcase spanning one side of the cabin that interested her the most. While Captain Hawke's book collection would have filled only a few shelves of Lord Spencer's library, it was imposing nonetheless.
    "Have you read them all, Captain?"
    "Most of them." Staring at Annie's skeptical face, the captain said, "Does that surprise you?"
    "A little. You don't look…" Annie's mouth slammed shut. Her eyes widened.
    "Spit it out, boy. I don't look like what? Educated? Is that the word that caught your tongue?" he said. "I am not educated, not like Mr. Montgomery, but I can read. Not many sailors can say that. Can you read, boy?"
    "Aye, Captain. I love reading poetry, history. I especially enjoy Shakespeare. I learned my letters at my father's knee, but it was…a friend who introduced me to the Bard." Annie almost mentioned Abigail's name. As it was, she wondered if she had given him too much information.
     "Just like I thought; you are an educated Englishman. Do you have a favorite book, boy?"
    "My mother's poems by Garcilaso de la Vega, she read them to me in Spanish. There was another book I loved, my father's book about pirates. I really loved that one, too, but I can't remember its name."
    Annie's hands became hot. She rubbed them on her trousers, but could not extinguish the memory of sifting through warm ashes. None of her treasured belongings escaped the flames, not one dog-eared page, not even a thread from her mother's