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popped open. She stood, dusted off her hands, and pocketed the hairpin. She eased the cabin door open and peered into the companionway. A sailor was disappearing up a ladderway; but for him, the companionway was empty. Raeven could not have picked better timing. The crew would be busy on deck, making the final preparations. No one would notice one small boy—she tucked her hair in her collar—shimmying across a dock line. If only she had her dagger, she could cut a piece of rope, knot it, and make her escape where she chose. As it was, her best bet was the anchor cable.
    She skulked up the stairs and onto the deck, ducking behind a gun carriage then peering out to survey the deck. It swarmed with activity. Men were aloft preparing the sails; others lowered the ship’s boats or stowed provisions. The pirate crew looked unexpectedly efficient and orderly. Still, it was a pirate crew. She wished she had her sword. Her thigh felt naked without the familiar weight against it. But whatever Cutlass had done with the sword, he had been smart enough not to leave it in his cabin. She had no choice but to depart without it.
    Yet another reason to detest the man.
    She scurried forward along the deck, glancing over the side, looking for the lines mooring the ship to the quay. She only wished she could see Cutlass’s face when he discovered his cabin was empty.
    But she would see him again—soon. And then she’d make him pay both for Timothy’s death and the theft of her sword.
    She edged along the deck, smiling as she caught sight of the forward dock line made fast to the quay. The crew hadn’t cast off yet. Luck was with her tonight, and she had one leg over the side when she glanced over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the open cargo hold. She paused, leg dangling precariously.
    She’d seen the crew loading cargo when she was brought on board, but she had been too busy cursing the men dragging her up the gangplank to note it. It was probably only foodstuffs and rum. Perhaps powder and solid shot. But then why hadn’t the Shadow anchored in the harbor and had the provisions delivered via cutter?
    Because the cargo was too heavy or too difficult to load from a cutter. Cutlass had needed the dock cranes to load it. And that meant it was more than salt pork and ship’s biscuit.
    She pulled her leg back over the rail then hesitated. Was it worth risking capture again to investigate this cargo?
    Probably not.
    On the other hand, if she discovered something of use to her father or the navy, then her little excursion might be more easily forgiven. And at this point, she had little hope her absence from the Regal had not been noted. She might need an extra measure of forgiveness.
    She took another quick glance about the ship to be certain she hadn’t been spotted then ducked down and dashed toward the cargo hold. Several crates were stacked on deck, still waiting placement, and Raeven stooped behind these. Cautiously, she lifted her head and peered over the crates and into the hold. The men working there had lanterns, but the light was far too weak for her to ascertain the nature of the cargo.
    Devil take it! She had risked capture for nothing. Now she would…
    She stared at the crate right in front of her. Nondescript and unlabeled, it could be anything. Peering about the deck, she saw a mallet one of the deckhands had set aside. She had to venture out from her hiding place to snatch it, and she did so quickly, dropping back just as two sailors walked past. One was the man Cutlass called Maine. He was shouting orders, telling the crew to finish securing the hold and prepare to cast off. That meant the mallet and these crates would have to be stowed soon. She had better hurry.
    She’d opened a fair number of crates in her time, and she made quick work of this one. Some men found her skill with men’s tools and her less-than-soft, pretty hands unattractive, but Timothy had only laughed when she did something women were not