A Captain and a Corset

by Mary Wine

  “Later, my sweet,” he promised the empty cabin.

  Four

  “You will see the seams of the dimensions at some point.”

  The bridge of the Soiled Dove was more sophisticated than Sophia expected. It lacked none of the cleanliness she had seen aboard an Illuminist vessel. Every gear was gleaming, the brass levers untouched by tarnish, but there was still a feeling of seediness. If evil had a scent, she was sure the odor was lingering in the raised cabin that allowed her to look out over their flight path.

  It was a shame that she couldn’t enjoy the moment. The heavens stretched out before her, golden sunlight bathing the clouds. The ship cut through them in a smooth, swooping motion driven by the propellers attached to the twin steam stacks at the rear of the vessel. It was the sort of thing a child’s imagination might have invented, yet she stood on the deck, watching a member of the crew steer the ship with a large wheel she’d only seen on water-sailing ships.

  Of course Bion had been teaching her about such things, but the reality was far more than any schoolroom preparation could hope to impress upon a student.

  A bell rang on the port side of the ship. A crew member was jerking the rope handle against the brass body of the bell as he kept his eyes on something he saw through his binoculars.

  “Prize at ten o’clock! Bring her around, Mr. Jefferies!” Captain Aetos bellowed as he burst into the bridge. The ship veered sharply as the crewman at the wheel responded. Sophia’s stomach lurched as the vessel dipped and tilted like a child’s top. Bion slipped a hard arm around her waist just as the bow rose as if they were climbing a wave, and they veered to the left.

  “Lower the crystals into the flood basins!”

  Crewmen reached for the levers, pushing them down. From the back of the ship there was a hydraulic sound that grew louder until there was an explosion of steam. It erupted through the stacks and sent the propellers violently spinning. The Soiled Dove jerked and catapulted forward.

  “All hands make ready with the cannons.”

  Men ran across the deck, scurrying down the ladders into the center of the ship. Some leaned over the rail, reaching for the cannon doors with large poles. In the distance, another ship was growing larger.

  “Disable her outer balloons, Mr. Graves!”

  Down on the deck, a man nodded before leaning down and shouting through one of the open trapdoors. The ship vibrated with the explosion of cannon fire, white smoke billowing up and over the rail. Bion was still holding her, and she was clinging to him as the ship in front of them faltered, one of her three balloons punctured. The ship began to turn in a lazy circle, losing altitude as the crew on her deck frantically tried to control her.

  “Stand by to board!” Aetos shouted.

  Men hurried up from below deck, long rifles gripped tightly in their hands. They braced themselves against the rail as the Soiled Dove closed the distance. A puff of white smoke from the side of the other ship was the only warning she got before Bion shoved her toward the deck. Wood splintered and the Soiled Dove shuddered. Some of the glass windowpanes on the bridge shattered.

  “Return fire! But don’t sink her just yet!” Aetos yelled. “I’ll have her treasure before I send her and the bastards manning her to the earth below!”

  The man was lawless. He was leaning out one of the broken windows, grinning as he anticipated his victory. Sophia fought back the urge to retch.

  “Swing out the grappling hooks! Get your prize lads! Get your prize!”

  There was a roar from the crew. They sounded like a pack of hyenas as they fired off the cannons once more. Then wicked looking iron hooks sailed across the space between the ships with lengths of rope trailing behind them. Many landed on the deck of the other ship. Some of the crew tossed them back overboard but many caught the railings, and the crewmen of the Soiled Dove began to drag the wounded vessel closer and closer. Rifles discharged and the crew snarled as they climbed over the rail.

  “Get your prize, me boys!”

  “Look away,” Bion whispered next to her ear, and for once his tone lacked the commanding arrogance she was so accustomed to. Now, his tone was quiet and kind, offering shelter from the horror happening in front of her.

  “She’ll keep her eyes forward or earn herself ten lashes and double that number for yourself,” the captain shouted.

  Sophia sucked in a breath, her temper flaring. What kept her mouth shut was the struggle she witnessed in Bion’s dark gaze. She’d never seen him hold back, never watched him bend, and she realized that he was doing it for her. The knowledge humbled her. It also brought her face to face with liking him, something she’d never thought might happen. She jerked her gaze away from his because it felt as if he could read her thoughts. She wasn’t even comfortable with them; sharing them was more than she could handle.

  But the sight in front of her was truly horrific. She watched the crew of the Soiled Dove charge the crew of the wounded vessel. They tied off the ropes, binding their prey to the side of the ship. The white puff from the barrels of the rifles added an eerie haze to the scene as men fought hand to hand on the deck of the captured vessel. Sunlight flashed off the blades of knives and swords as they clanged against one another, and the screams of the wounded mixed with the discharge of gunfire. Time felt as though it froze, allowing her to see every detail of the mêlée.

  Captain Aetos chuckled and slapped her on the bottom. “There will be no pampering aboard this vessel. You’re a pirate now,” he growled, and jumped down from the bridge to join the carnage.

  “Like hell I am,” Sophia grumbled, not caring if one of the crew tattled on her.

  Bion’s hand gently massaged her neck. When she turned to lock gazes with him, she found herself receiving another steady look of approval from the man—and damned if she didn’t feel as if she’d earned it.

  The survivors were herded into a line. All around them, the crewmen of the Soiled Dove plundered the ship without a care for the bodies littering the deck of the defeated ship. They tore open crates as they came up from below deck. Even the bodies were stripped of their valuables, not a single pair of worn boots left behind.

  But it was all carefully placed on the deck of the Soiled Dove. The deck sergeant, Mr. Graves, stood watch as crewmen climbed over the rail and deposited their plunder. Many of them held up their hands to prove they weren’t holding anything back while others turned their pockets out, the lining flapping in the wind.

  Captain Aetos inspected the survivors, walking down their row with his sword still in hand, its blade stained with blood. “I’m accepting volunteers for my crew,” he announced in a cheerful voice that sent Sophia’s stomach rolling once more. “Volunteers only.”

  Three of the survivors stepped up, their expressions grim. The captain waved them over to the rail, then swept the ship one last time. The moment he’d crossed back to the Soiled Dove, his crew hurried to join him. They loosened the ropes and pulled the grappling hooks free. The sacked ship drifted free, the remaining crew looking relieved as the distance increased.

  Several members of the Soiled Dove’s crew waved farewell to them, which infuriated Sophia. But Bion’s hand on her hip tightened, warning her that the horror was not quite finished.

  “Fire,” Mr. Graves ordered from the main deck. White smoke billowed up from the cannons as another volley was sent into the crippled ship. One of its steam stacks crumpled and fell away from the ship. The survivors all dove for cover, some of them failing to move fast enough. There were agonized screams as the ship groaned and the balloons keeping it afloat were punctured. They released their hydrogen in a ghastly sounding stream as the men left aboard looked around in terror.

  In contrast, the crew of the Soiled Dove cheered as they watched the ship falter and drop like a stone. They leaned over the railing to watch as long as possible, and Sophia found her eyes dry of tears. Her horror was too great to do
anything but watch silently.

  ***

  “I do believe you would get more volunteers if you mentioned your policy on grounding ships, Captain,” Mr. Graves said.

  Captain Aetos cocked his head to one side and grinned. “Maybe, Mr. Graves. Maybe. We won’t be learning the answer today.”

  They chuckled and the sound was sickening. In a way, Sophia was almost grateful to know she still had the decency to be revolted by their savagery.

  “Donkova, you’ll give a hand on deck.” The captain issued his order in a firm tone. “We’ll be needing to patch up the Soiled Dove a bit before we hunt again. Miss Stevenson can report to the cook and see who needs a few stitches.”

  “I am not a trained physician,” Sophia protested.

  Captain Aetos shrugged. “Neither is the cook, but I’ll wager your mother taught you the use of a needle and thread.” His eyes narrowed. “No one shirks their share of the work here. You can either make yourself useful in the galley or help us celebrate once the cargo is sorted.”

  With the window of the bridge shattered, the captain’s words floated easily to the men on deck. Several dropped what they were doing, looking up at her with expectation glimmering in their eyes.

  “Bloody bastard,” Bion said next to her ear. There was a savageness in his tone, but she recognized the difference now. Bion might have the capacity to be every bit as ruthless as Captain Aetos, but Bion had honor. It was in his core and was completely lacking in the captain of the Soiled Dove.

  Sophia turned and stepped close to Bion, and she could feel his body heat. A tiny ripple of awareness traveled along her limbs, and this time she smiled in response. “Do not throw him over the rail,” she whispered. His forehead furrowed and she tapped him lightly on the chest. “Because I do believe I should like that pleasure for myself.”

  She had the satisfaction of watching surprise fill his dark eyes as she brushed past him on the way to the galley. The urge to look over her shoulder was intense, but she squelched it, continuing on her way without faltering.

  She’d endure well enough. Indeed she would.

  ***

  The tiny cabin with its single bed was a welcome sight when Sophia finally got the chance to seek it out. She leaned her head against the door, savoring the solid feel of the wood.

  “It won’t offer much protection, even if you remember to slide the bolt.”

  She jumped, startled by Bion’s brassy tone. Scanning the cabin, she found the man lying back on the bed in nothing but his shirt and britches. Heat teased her cheeks. She’d never seen him so near to being unclothed.

  Listen to you, missy. The word is nude.

  “Personally,” Bion continued, “I find this more comforting.”

  He patted something he had been lying on. When she ventured closer, he moved the sheet aside to reveal something that looked like a chemise but it was much larger.

  “It’s a parachute.” Bion lifted it to reveal a leather harness of some sort, then let it go and covered it once more. “Our means of escape—just as soon as I can devise a way to distract the crew long enough for us to use it and we aren’t over open water.”

  “How does it work?”

  “We buckle the harness across our chests and jump over the rail. It is designed to open and slow our descent. But it’s of little use if we can’t make it to the rail unmolested.”

  He frowned, his eyes narrowing as the word “unmolested” crossed his lips. Sophia was instantly taken back to the moment when Captain Aetos had threatened her with such a fate. It was a chilling thought, but she shook her head and pulled in a deep breath to dispel it.

  “I look forward to the experience.”

  “Ignoring the dangers will not protect you, Sophia.”

  Bion’s warning annoyed her. He was correct, but she did not need to dwell on the possibilities. Hope was what she needed, and she turned on him with determination warming her insides.

  “Neither will embracing pity, Mr. Donkova. I am beginning to think you believe me dim-witted and without the ability to understand the details of my own circumstances.”

  Bion stood up, his arms crossing over his chest. The collar of his shirt was open, allowing her a fine view of the dark hair covering his chest. For once she didn’t look away. Maybe she was blushing, but she kept her gaze on the man she was admiring.

  “You cannot possibly understand the facts of your circumstances,” Bion remarked. “No lady could.”

  Sophia threw her hands up with a very unladylike groan. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Just because I know how to conduct myself well has no bearing on what other knowledge I have acquired during my upbringing. You, sir, are far too presumptuous. If all I ever thought about were delicate things and spring flowers, I would have happily ridden out with Jonathon Saddler when he came calling with a nosegay of violets and lavender roses.”

  Bion’s complexion darkened and she scoffed at him turning her back on him. But he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. A twist of anticipation went through her as she recognized the look in his eyes. It had been there the few times he’d kissed her and it was brighter, hotter than ever before.

  “You cannot possibly be jealous.”

  He chuckled ominously as he stepped toward her. She backed away, instinctively recognizing how powerful he was.

  “Now I believe you are the one making assumptions, Sophia.” He took one long step, and she felt her back against the wall. Before she could move, he flattened his hand against the worn wood paneling, caging her.

  “It’s rather insulting to see you reacting—well, in this manner—to the announcement that I had a suitor.” Her heart was racing but she just couldn’t seem to stop chattering. “I really am not so wretched a creature, you know.”

  He chuckled again, the sound sending excitement tearing though her. “You may be very sure that I have noticed your charms.”

  He leaned closer. She propped her hands on his chest, a simple reaction to his encroachment. But his shirt was far too thin, and through it, she could feel the heat of his skin. It was impossible to ignore it for some reason, the desire to slip her hands just a little closer to where the shirt gaped open was nearly overwhelming.

  “But I’m suddenly not satisfied with mere observation.”

  His tone was thick with promise, but she recalled too well the iron strength of will that had seen him turning away from her before. She moved her hand into the opening of his shirt, but she grasped a handful of his chest hair and twisted it.

  “Don’t tease me, Bion. I’ve had enough of it.”

  His lips curled back from his teeth for a moment, betraying the pain she was inflicting. But he didn’t budge.

  “Aren’t you the one who just teased me with the recollection of your suitor?” His eyes darkened dangerously. “Because I find myself agreeing with you.” He pressed up against her, trapping her hand. “I am jealous.”

  Surprise held her in its grip and the kiss he pressed against her mouth ensured that she remained that way. Her wits deserted her, but she didn’t make any true attempt to maintain them. His mouth demanded submission, but she kissed him back with every bit of passion she felt. It was like an energy current; once she let it loose, there was no control—only need.

  She fought to free her hand, still kissing him. Bion pressed his body against hers, letting her feel every inch of him, and she was eager to do so. The chest she’d so often watched him cross his arms over was something she wanted to feel. Stroke really. Her fingertips were far more sensitive than she’d ever noticed. The shirt wasn’t open enough and she fought with the buttons in her quest to free him from the garment.

  He pushed away from her, drawing a frustrated sound from her. But she sighed with appeasement when he ripped the shirt up and over his head.

  “That sounded like a purr.”

  Sophia bit her lip, trying t
o decide what she thought of his tone. He laughed softly, almost wickedly, and beckoned to her with one finger.

  “Come here, sweet lady, if you have not lost your nerve, that is.”

  “You’re challenging me on purpose.” She stepped toward him but brushed past him to the other side of the cabin. She turned to face him while she toyed with the top button on her shirt. “It’s almost as if you need me to prove that I am not too delicate to rise to your provocative statements.”

  “Or actions,” he countered as he undid the top of his waistband.

  “Ah yes.” The button was free and she moved to the next one. “You have proclaimed yourself a man of action. Yet I wonder if I shouldn’t put you in your place and expect you to stand there.”

  A dark eyebrow rose, but it was the look of raw hunger in his eyes that threatened to hypnotize her. She fumbled with the button, her fingers trembling. A moment later, he had taken over, easily working the button through its hole.

  “Never fear, sweet Sophia, I will be happy to assist.”

  Her top opened and he pushed it back over her shoulders. But instead of sliding it down her arms, he only pushed it far enough to bind her arms behind her back. It left her cleavage on display, with only the edge of her chemise covering the swell of her breasts above the edge of her corset. She was suddenly nervous, confidence a mere whisper in the very back of her thoughts.

  “I don’t fear you.” Her voice was less than convincing.

  “And that is exactly where you went wrong, my lovely.” He clasped her waist, flattening his hands on her sides, and pressed gently until the metal eyelets of her busk popped open. “I can ignore shrieking maidens quite easily. A confident woman, though, I am powerless against.”

  The night air was chilly when it made its way through the open side of her corset. Bion pulled the undergarment away, letting it fall to the floor. The waistband of her skirt gave him little trouble and soon it too was puddled around her ankles.