Other Oceans: Book Two of the Hook & Jill Saga (60 page)

Not surprised, but not satisfied, Tom made his way forward, past the bags of sleepers. These men, capable seamen all, were amiable enough. For the most part, he’d enjoy serving with them. That Guillaume, though, he bore watching. Tom’s spur-of-the-moment mix of curiosity and aggression had squelched the man’s suspicion. It also won his interest. Too handily. For the first time, Tom gave over his fears for Nibs and considered his own situation. The
commandant
, after all, had for a while to account to Captain Cecco for Nibs’ well-being. But nobody— not even LeCorbeau— cared what game his officers played. Tom’s instincts warned him to get about his business, and get off this ship.

He hauled himself into his hammock, where, before dropping off to sleep, he tested the edge of his knife. Captain Hook had run a tight ship. He’d commanded Mr. Starkey to work the young sailors hard. The lessons were painful at times, but Hook had looked after Tom and Nibs, in his own way. Tom felt prepared. He owed his best effort to Hook. Tomorrow, as soon as he descended from the rigging, he’d descend even further, to the hold. He’d keep his knife at the ready, and no matter what Mr. Guillaume had in mind, that was as far as he would ever descend.

§ § §

Liza emerged from the fog to an unfamiliar feeling. A pleasing feeling. Delightful, but foreign. Strong, warm arms surrounded her. A firm chest pressed against her back, his skin smooth, slightly moist. As she lay there, she kept her eyes closed, in order not to dispel the magic of the moment. Feeling him caress her hair, she understood what had awakened her. He was stroking her, moving the strands from her face as if he cared for her comfort.

As if he cared for
her
.

No, that would be too good to be true. But he wanted her. The evidence pressed against her backside. And as Liza knew from her observations, this touching was part of the dance. She breathed in deeply to let him know that he stirred her, and his hand in her hair stilled for a moment, then continued its work. Only just touching the soreness at her temple, the too good fingers soothed her face. The right side of her face.

Still refusing to open her eyes, Liza stopped breathing. Of a sudden, her whole being rebelled.

He was stroking her. With his right hand.

As her body went rigid, the wrong arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her against his loins.

“Liza. You will not speak.”

The bright new world broke into shards, and came crashing down around her. Her eyes opened. By the harsh morning light, she beheld the wall of her cabin…and the bottom of the upper bunk. Liza lay in her father’s bed. In her father’s grasp.

“You will dress yourself and report to the mistress.”

“I am the mistress!”

“Do not test my patience.”

Employing her elbows, digging into the bed, Liza flung herself around to confront her father.

His face was stony. “I have saved you. From your own foolishness.”

Trapped again in the old grip of silence, Liza sat up to shake her head until the bed frame jiggled.

“I found the keys you stole from me. Nothing has changed.”

With a growing dread, the girl observed the steely glint in her father’s gaze. Slowly, she turned her eyes upward to indicate the occupant of the upper bunk.

“Yes. Your tricks have made our situation untenable.”

She lowered her chin, waiting. Afraid.

“At the earliest opportunity, I will dispose of him.”

Her face wrinkled in disbelief. She hardly felt the throb of her bruising.

“You yourself have orchestrated his death. He is severely weakened by your drugging. His recovery would be uncertain, even were I to order fluids and nourishment.”

Incredulous, she raised her hand as if swearing an oath, and she saw her father’s expression harden.

“Yes. As a physician, I have sworn no harm. The harm will be far greater if I fail to act.”

With both hands, she seized him, realizing only now, as she gripped his vigorous arm, that she was naked in front of him, and he was clad only in his breeches. He shook her off and scowled at her, and in his daughter’s eyes, the scar upon his face revealed his soul.

“And I now understand,” he said. “In the same shameful way you witnessed the bawdy rites of our captor, you have spied upon me. While I engaged in the very act that creates life, you watched me extinguish it.”

Liza’s eyes, the eyes that had witnessed his crime, widened as she heard him speak of it.

“Your mother suffered from a delicate constitution. Like our prisoner, she outlived her usefulness.” While Liza shrank into the bedclothes, he continued. “I administered too much of the philter that night. To your mother and to myself. And now you have made the same mistake. Your blunder, too, will cost a life. Let us hope it is not yours or mine.”

Hanover rolled off the bed and dragged his daughter from it. “Now dress. Attend to the lady. Not a sign to anyone about your wretched captain, or I will see to it no man desires to look upon you,” his gaze dropped to pass judgment on her nakedness, then he met her eye. “Ever again.”

§ § §

This morning, like every other morning, Mr. Smee watched for the lady. He worked on deck first thing, to get an early glimpse of her and determine if he was needed. So far, the ruby necklace remained out of sight. As he went about his business, Captain Hook’s rapier swung at his side, sending the bo’sun an unnecessary reminder of his duty.

Yulunga rang the bell on the quarterdeck as Jill and Cecco came forth from their quarters. Eagerly, the company assembled beneath its clanging. The rumor had spread already. The captain had collected his first booty, and was ready to share it.

The lady was dressed in emerald today, a gown as green as the rolling hills of Smee’s homeland, and highlighted with Cecco’s gold. Smee wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her look so beautiful, with the sun gilding her hair as it lay against the green, and eyes to match an Irish twilight. But no rubies today, except for the color of her lips. She was smiling, her mouth appearing especially vivid this morning, her lips a measure fuller.

Cecco posed on the companionway in his gypsy regalia, holding up the filled-to-bursting pouch and shaking it as the men of the
Roger
cheered him.

“It is a good morning, my friends, which brings the beginning of our bounty from the Frenchman!”

Jubilation resounded. Yulunga mounted guard on the steps to marshal the men into order, officers first, so that each could collect his percentage from the captain’s hands. As he did so, Cecco counted out his own take, stowing the bulk of his earnings in his pocket. The remainder he held out to Jill.

“Your promised stipend, my lady.” He kissed her hands as she accepted it, and then he doled out Jill’s own percentage of gold.

Smee bristled. The lady maintained her composure, but surely she must be mortified. The idea of a captain paying her from his own takings— as if she sold her loyalty! The bo’sun stood to receive his earnings from the gypsy’s pouch, then heaved himself away, clutching the coins. The hilt of Hook’s rapier grew heated within his other fist. ‘Captain’ Cecco was sure to feel its point. One day soon.

As the business progressed, young Miss slunk from the master’s quarters. The noisy crewmen celebrated their riches, and she went unnoticed by most. But not by Smee. She wore the mauve gown. A hank of hair had come loose from her net to fall over her face, and she kept her head cast down as if she wished to be invisible. She wasn’t. Yulunga shoved the men aside. “Clear the steps! Let the girl pass.” He smirked as she descended without acknowledging his gesture.

Watching Cecco and his mate exchange smiles, Smee guessed Miss Liza, too, was sure to feel a point one day soon. Mr. Yulunga’s.

Nothing new there. But
something
was different. Smee angled his head, keeping his eye on the girl. She behaved the same as always. Still haughty, still aloof. What had changed?

Hanover.

The man watched for his daughter.
That
was different. Poised in his gray suit, he loitered at the base of the steps, leaning on his cane in the midst of the sailors, even after he’d collected his share of gold. He stared at the lady, as he always did. Cecco’s gaze raked him more keenly than usual, and the surgeon appeared impervious to it— again, as always. But he waited for Liza. As soon as the girl arrived within reach, he grasped her arm and ushered her forward.

Smee turned to peer over his spectacles as the pair wasted no time in disappearing below decks. He looked to the lady once more. And then he followed them.

§ § §

“Captain,” Jill smiled as she backed along the gilding of the companionway toward the majestic door of the master’s quarters. She felt a happiness today that, since joining up with her pirates, she’d never expected to feel. Common enough for other females, perhaps, but unexpected of a woman in Jill’s position. She reached out her crimson hand. It only shook a little.

Cecco accepted her hand with satisfaction in his eye. He followed her, his pockets full, the empty pouch dangling from his fist.

“Come, Sir, let’s stow our takings. And then I have a request to beg of you.” With her two arms adorned in his gold, she pulled him over the threshold.

“What is it, lovely one? Have we not already agreed on this morning’s course of action?” He headed for his sea chest, and she hurried to secrete her coins in a hidden drawer of her escritoire. She found her nervousness not as easy to hide.

“Yes. I’ve no wish to change our plans. But I have something to say to you, Sir, of an entirely personal nature, and you may consider it to be everything— or nothing at all.”

“You intrigue me. As always.” He joined her on the cushioned recess beneath his windows. Noting a quiver at the corner of her smile, he said benevolently, “Speak to me of whatever subject you desire.”

He waved his hand in a generous gesture as he spoke, and the surgeon’s wedding ring caught her eye. She would have to get used to seeing it there.

“Very well, Captain. But the subject is a delicate one. I confess, it flusters me.” Merely mentioning it made the rhythm within her turn chaotic. Yet ever so pleasantly.

Cecco laughed. “Now I must be told! What subject could possibly reduce my magnificent queen to common female vapors?”

Weaving her arms about his neck, she kissed him first, and in spite of her efforts to calm herself, she found her heart fluttering like a hummingbird. “I’m afraid that, where this matter is concerned, I am as weak as any other woman. Maybe more so.” She pulled back to place two scarlet fingers on his lips. “But please, Captain. I am nervous enough. Don’t say any more, until I have explained as well as I may.”

Cecco held her, the best half of his heart, amazed to see her turned suddenly shy. She confided in him, and as she spoke, as her hands opened in petition, his dearest dream quickened and sprang into life.

“Si,”
he said, emphatically, without an instant of hesitation. “Yes. I welcome it.”

§ § §

Smee didn’t have long to listen. What little he could hear through the wall of the spare quarters was one-sided, the surgeon speaking in low tones to his daughter. Sporadic commands. From what the bo’sun could make out, the doctor remained just as frosty toward the girl as usual.

Smee heard a jingling, though, that for some reason set his innards to churning. The chains, of course. No doubt Miss had been ordered to tidy the bunks. A squeaking from the bed frame followed, seeming to confirm Smee’s hunch. Although the surgeon had signed on with the company, Cecco saw fit to keep his fetters handy. One point on which Smee agreed with the gypsy captain. He listened for more, but within minutes, the doctor and his daughter vacated the cabin, clicked its door closed and moved toward the galley. Smee clearly heard two sets of footsteps, both light, both stepping forward up the gun deck.

Odd, Smee reflected. Come to think of it, the girl hadn’t visited the galley at breakfast time. Since Hook’s disappearance, she had collected the majority of the surgeon’s meals and waited on him in his quarters. All of a sudden, the man who had almost completely ignored his daughter seemed unwilling to let the girl stray from his sight.

But Smee had work to do. Storing his findings for future consideration, he made ready to leave the cabin. Just as his hand grasped the door handle, he heard a sound that made the red hair on his arms stand right up on end. It chimed through the wooden wall, and chilled Mr. Smee to his very bones.

Chains rattling.

The surgeon had gone. So had his daughter. No one occupied that cabin. Only the bad air must remain, the fug that had hung between its inhabitants. And then another sound issued from the woodwork, and this time, Smee knew for certain. It was a ghost.

Because a long, low groan emanated from the doctor’s quarters.

Like a dead man rising.

§ § §

Nibs had refused everything last night, including the wine— politely. He’d stuck to grog, and damned little of it. As a result, he was wide awake and staring this morning. Staring at the sea, and wondering what he’d gotten himself into. And gotten Tom into, too. Nibs couldn’t see the
Roger
from his stern window, but it was good to know she was out there, leading
L’Ormonde
. Despite Cecco’s play-acting for LeCorbeau, Nibs believed the sailor who not so long ago had taken two green lads under his wing would never desert them. Cecco was a good man. He had to be.

Wondering how Tom’s end of the intrigue was going, Nibs attempted to pace. His cabin was so cramped it wasn’t easy, but if he kept his head bent he could get in three good steps before bumping his shins on his sea chest. Although Nibs’ job was distasteful, Tom’s assignment was more difficult, and held more risk. It was obvious from last night’s party that LeCorbeau was in no hurry where Nibs was concerned. He had his two mates. The sea lay before him, his escapade could last a lifetime. Clearly he enjoyed the chase, and savored the time it took to capture his quarry.

But the
commandant
’s attitude toward Tom was far different. He harbored no affection for Tom. If Nibs’ brother was caught searching the ship, LeCorbeau might punish him cruelly. One day, he might even sink to pressuring Nibs by threatening Tom’s welfare. Still, Nibs would jump at the chance to change places with Tom, if it didn’t mean condemning a brother to the hell he himself hot-footed.