Other Oceans: Book Two of the Hook & Jill Saga (57 page)

Her wedding day.

§ § §

Yulunga had his instructions. Until Cecco’s return, only the girl was to enter the master’s quarters. Captain Cecco bade his lady farewell in full view of the surgeon, who watched with an air of satisfaction at which Yulunga squinted. Then Cecco and his other officers trouped in twilight across the boards to
L’Ormonde
, ready to feast, drink, and parley. The boots of Nibs the Knife and Tom Tootles tramped behind the doctor’s softer tread. With their sea chests on their shoulders, the young men alighted and turned to salute the lady. Her eyes followed her son’s orange kerchief as he disappeared down
L’Ormonde
’s hatch. In two lithe steps, Nibs was gone. Tom took one assessing look around the deck, readjusted his box, and plunged after. Yulunga supervised the stowing of the plank before presenting himself to the mistress. Without a word, she acknowledged the mate, turned, and mounted the darkening steps toward her cabin. As ordered by the captain, Yulunga followed.

“Good evening Ma’am. I will be on guard. Call if you need me.” He closed the door behind her, and waited to try the door once she had locked it.

When Liza pattered up the steps, Yulunga was ready for her. His golden earrings were the first thing she noticed. As her eyes opened with interest, Yulunga grinned.

“Yes, Miss. These are the earrings I promised.”

She reached for one.

He pulled his head back. “No, not until you’ve earned them. And the captain says no man’s to touch you. Yet.”

Liza’s gaze darted along the deck. Most of the men were off duty, below decks or observing the doings aboard the sister ship, whence sounds of merriment were rising. Sliding closer to Yulunga, the girl stretched out a tentative finger. As her touch grazed his chest, Yulunga felt an immediate stirring. He backed a step.

“Captain says you’re to be patient, too, little girl. I aim to see that you are.” But his pleasure shone in his black eyes. “I will be watching. You’ll keep your fingers off the other men, or I’ll see to it those eager hands are clapped in irons again.” As she drew back, scowling, his laugh swelled and his necklace strained against it. “Go in to your mistress, now. It’s the safest place for you.”

Digging for the keys, Yulunga didn’t hide his anticipation. He assured himself of the pearl ring that nestled in his pocket, then strode to the door and knocked. The mistress’ voice, fainter than usual, consented. He unlocked the bolt and waited to shoot it home again once the girl had disappeared behind it. As he watched her saucy backside, his breeches felt the strain of obeying the captain’s order.

The key snapped the lock. Jill didn’t look up.

“Take down my nightdress, Liza. I’m ready to retire.”

The girl did as she was told. She helped the mistress out of her gown and into night attire. As she hung the sapphire taffeta, Liza appreciated its likeness to her captain’s eyes. Her heart soared and sank at the same time. Thanks to a steady application of medicines, Hook was insensible all day. But tonight would be different. Liza had applied an inadequate dose this afternoon, both of water and of potion. For a few hours this evening her father would be occupied elsewhere, and Hook was hers. She wouldn’t fail to stir his desire again, as she had so easily stirred Yulunga’s. And just as she obeyed her mistress now, just as she seemed to obey her father, she would perform every duty her captain commanded.

The surgeon hadn’t missed the keys this morning. Liza had recovered her wits at last, and as dawn etched the sky, she crept to the gun deck to retrieve the brass ring. When her father woke, the keys were in his pocket, just where they should be. Captain Hook had eased last night’s temper in the sleep that proved all too rare for him, and upon his rousing, his surgeon and his thirst forced him to drink the tainted mixture, meager as it was. His chains clinked as he reached for it, for Liza had hidden the flannel strips. His jewel-blue gaze cut through Liza’s soul as he communicated his orders, again. He ignored Hanover, who stood by with his cane at the ready. Parched as he was, Hook paused to concentrate all his will on the girl, silently commanding her obedience. She thrilled as she read his message— deliver the keys, and Hook would deliver his passion. His rising passion.

When Jill’s needs were satisfied, she dismissed the girl. But Liza balked. Looking sly, she turned her back and raised her skirts.

Jill lowered herself to the bunk, puzzled. “Liza? What—” She startled as a thump hit the carpet. From its hiding place around her hips, Liza was uncoiling a rope.

The girl continued to smile as she remembered Yulunga’s forbearance. She had known he wouldn’t touch her. Her advances ensured it. Had the man followed his inclination instead of his orders, he’d have discovered her smuggling. But she would win those earrings— maybe next time, when she returned to retrieve the rope, the ‘key’ to the lady’s chamber.

Watching with a swelling dread, Jill sat stiff. Liza gathered up the coil and bore it to the aft windows.

“No, Liza.”

The girl paid no heed. She raised two windows wide, hooking each of them to the ceiling, then looped the rope around the panel between, and tied it. Her hands were practiced. It was obvious an experienced man had drilled her on the knot. When it was secure, she tested it with a tug, then hoisted the coil and tossed it out to sea. Jill watched it go taut as it stretched to its fullest extent. She imagined its end, dangling just outside the window of the lower middle cabin. Liza poked her head out to inspect her work, then turned to approach her mistress.

“Liza. Tell him— tell him…” But Jill could think of no words. The power to refuse the surgeon had deserted her. The time to thwart him was past. Beyond all things, Jill needed to learn Hook’s fate. Unwilling to allow her servant to see her helplessness, the lady rose to stand, commanding. “Leave me alone.”

Liza curtsied, then pulled a scrap of parchment from her pocket and offered it to her mistress. As Jill reached for it, the girl looked down, then slid her gaze up again to witness the lady’s response. Jill maintained her composure, but her face went as colorless as the parchment she unfolded.

Liza knew what it said. She recited it to herself as she recalled his handsome script, in bold black ink. She had hung over him as he penned it, daring, for once, to rest her palms affectionately on his shoulders as she watched his hand, firm and unyielding. His face had been the same.

Jill’s lips opened as she recognized the writing. Above the rising voices of the party aboard
L’Ormonde
, Liza heard the lady’s breath catch, just before she stopped breathing altogether.

It was a brief message, a single declaration. One harmless word. The word the man had waited to hear Jill speak. Now the word belonged to him. It was the doctor’s order, and a husband’s command.

Sickening, Jill closed her eyes and crumpled the parchment. She heard his voice as if he stood before her, in place of his daughter. As, with the assistance of his rope, he
would
stand before her, ready for a bout of love-making— looking handsome, slightly disheveled…and aggressive.

‘Tonight
.
’

Jill and Liza stared at one another. Both females knew. Nothing remained to stand in the doctor’s way. Not the captain, nor his intimidating mate, nor loyal Mr. Smee. The only thing that could hinder the surgeon’s triumph— tonight— would be a miracle.

Hook’s return.

§ § §

Nibs followed Renaud to the crew deck, Tom on his heels. The young mate was smiling. His master was pleased, and life would be easy for awhile.

“Mr. Nibs. We very much welcome you aboard
L’Ormonde
. And Mr. Tootles. Already, Guillaume has high hopes of recovery! Your good doctor will tend him this evening, and I am certain he will find my cousin much improved.”

“We’re glad of that, but we just signed up for the adventure. With Captain Hook gone, we wanted a change.”

“Do not be modest, Mr. Nibs. You have earned the captain’s regard. His interest in your career will advance you. He knows you have the necessary qualities to make an officer.”

“As he knew you have.”

Flattered, Renaud grinned. “I cannot deny it! This is the crew deck. Mr. Tootles, here is your hammock, toward the bow. Mr. Nibs, you are to bunk in a private cabin, right next to my own and Guillaume’s.” After assigning Tom a forward hammock, Renaud led Nibs aft, where the two entered a tiny cabin in which Nibs had to stoop to avoid the ceiling. But there were windows, two off the stern. Nibs was satisfied. He could fit through those windows. Tom might squeeze out, as well.

“This is fine, Mr. Renaud. I’m that glad to have my own quarters. I never would have done aboard the
Roger
.” The only drawback as far as Nibs could see was his proximity to the first and second mates. Nibs knew he’d be watched. And he and Tom were separated. As Tom entered to inspect Nibs’ quarters, the brothers exchanged nods. Each was thinking the same thing. Somehow, despite their distance, they would have to keep in touch.

But Renaud’s next words indicated LeCorbeau’s wishes to the contrary.

“Mr. Tootles, you are assigned to the first shift, starting tomorrow. Get an early night’s sleep, for you’ll be in the rigging at dawn. Mr. Nibs, you are to join the captain’s guests this evening and report for duty at the wheel at second shift.” He smiled. “You are to be granted an honor. The
commandant
intends personally to supervise you. Come, I will show you to the captain’s quarters, and you will be fêted by the
commandant
himself!”

Apprehensive already, Tom sent a cheerful signal to Nibs and said good-night. Within half an hour he was playing cards with the rowdy night shift, who had no duties tonight because of the parley. Within an hour he’d learned the French terms for Ace, King, Queen and grog, and he’d added a few francs to his pouch. Tom determined that before long, he’d be ignored by LeCorbeau and well enough accepted by the crew to begin inspecting the holds.

When Tom left, Nibs stowed his sea chest against the bulkhead, there being no room for it at the foot of his bunk. Stuffing his fist in his pocket, he felt the reassuring presence of Jill’s weapon. He wouldn’t need the potion tonight, but he’d keep it with him. With a glance at his quarters, though, and a look at Renaud’s friendly face, Nibs determined
L’Ormonde
and her crew had much to offer a rising young seaman. He’d make the best of it, until he could find a way back home.

And he’d keep his eyes and ears open for signs of his captain. If Hook was alive, he had to be here, aboard the
Roger
’s sister. Nibs tested the knot of his kerchief and followed Renaud to the party, where, under the approving eyes of Captain Cecco, LeCorbeau welcomed him, literally, with open arms.

§ § §

Smiling over the wine, Cecco hid his uneasiness. Except for the brooding of his bo’sun, he found no good reason for the feeling, but he couldn’t shake it. His concern for his lady’s sons nagged beneath his merriment, yet he surmised that those seamen were capable of fending for themselves. He, Mr. Starkey, and the rest of the crew had seen to that as the young sailors trained.

The lingering resentment on the Irishman’s features set Cecco to thinking. Aware as he was of the man’s devotion to Jill, Cecco couldn’t help but believe Smee’s glower related to her well-being. Once or twice the captain tried to catch the bo’sun’s eye to divine a clue to his thoughts, but Smee spared his new master only a glance, and delved into his cup.

Watching the surgeon now, Cecco wondered again. The man’s appearance always contrasted with his surroundings, so stiff and formal among sailors, and even more so within the elegant decadence of the Frenchman’s lair. Yet tonight the doctor smiled and feasted with the rest, seeming equally at ease in the smoky, crowded room. He even appeared to enjoy himself. Cecco noted that the bo’sun’s observation, too, followed Hanover, and Cecco’s concerns were allayed. Obviously, Smee still resented the surgeon, both for his pretensions to Jill and his collusion to elect the new captain.

Relaxing, Cecco drained his glass and smiled at LeCorbeau. The Frenchman in his triumph was an amusing sight. And Cecco had to admire Mr. Nibs, whose sense of duty balanced his distaste, and who bore his circumstances with a philosophy beyond his years.

Cecco nodded to himself. Nibs had learned this philosophy from his lovely mother. As always, the image of the lady aroused her lover, and he shifted in his chair and counted the minutes until he might return to her. Perhaps, as LeCorbeau was so happily engaged, Cecco could slip away earlier than planned. Jill’s captain would wake her with the pleasant weight, not of duty this time, but of gold. He would shower her with it. Cecco hailed another glass of wine, smiled, and patted the pouch at his belt.

LeCorbeau’s gold.

§ § §

The ruse was too good. Mr. Smee balanced Hook’s rapier on his knees and strung the evidence together. Cecco made a show of dispensing with the lady’s lads. He’d somehow bargained with the Frenchman until the little bag of gold strained like a sail in a gale, but Smee got the feeling in his craw that every gain Cecco made in pretense, he enjoyed in actuality. Now nothing and no one, excepting his bo’sun, could expose his betrayal. He was no longer hampered even by the surgeon who had connived with him through the first ruse, and lost.

Renaud offered Smee another glass, and the bo’sun accepted. He took one gulp and then, clearing a space on the brocaded tablecloth, he set it down. He wouldn’t touch another drop. The wine was strong.

Not strong enough.

§ § §

Hanover blinked in the light of the tapers and excused himself from the littered table. In spite of his elation, his stomach churned at the sight of his partner draping himself over the young man. Even knowing LeCorbeau’s peculiarities, the surgeon was shocked. The collaborators had held the briefest meeting after LeCorbeau arranged for Hanover to attend Guillaume. Hanover had time to explain only that Hook had assaulted his daughter, and then Cecco had stamped in, demanding that LeCorbeau join the company, and congratulating the mate on his obvious recovery. But the lack of detail was of no consequence; LeCorbeau understood that Hook was out of the way, Nibs was in his power, and Jill would soon follow her sons to
L’Ormonde
. Now the company appeared inebriated enough not to notice the surgeon’s absence, and he shot his cuffs and secured his medical bag. As he weaved his way through the oppressive haze of spirits and tobacco toward the cabin door, Hanover imagined the more sublime sight in which soon he would be reveling. The bridal veil of her hair, shining in the golden light of tapers.