Merrick stormed from the cabin, fighting to contain the overwhelming agony and rage battling within him. He didn't know whether he was angrier with Kent, Charlisse, or himself. How dare his wife treat him as if he truly had been unfaithful? Yet had he? He had to admit he'd been attracted to Elisa, had enjoyed their kiss, had found comfort in her embrace. But did that make him the scoundrel Charlisse accused him of being? Perhaps so, for it was a matter of the heart after all, and when his heart should have been mourning his wife, its affections were set on another.
He pounded up the companionway ladder and onto the main deck. The evening breeze flowed over him, helping to cool his temper. Pirates lingered in snickering clusters across the deck. A waft of spicy rum floated past his nose. He could use a drink right now. But he knew very well the potent liquid would only add to his problems. An off-key ballad drifted down from the quarterdeck:
"Old Cap'n Silly, jilted by yer filly,