by Jane Feather
“Eh, you not done yet?” A rough voice hailed him just as he approached the gangplank.
He turned slowly, his mouth drooping, his lower lip hanging open. He looked at his interlocutor with the vacant stare of a half-wit. The man was dressed in the buff jerkin of a soldier, armed with sword and dagger, and he had the air of one spoiling for a fight.
“You, I'm talkin' to you!” The soldier jabbed Lionel in the chest with his forefinger. “They've been loadin' this ship all day. There's others waitin' for the berth.”
Lionel continued to offer his loose-lipped stare. “T' maister,” he mumbled. “I dunno nuthin', sir. T' maister knows.”
Captain Longton, who had gone ahead, yelled from the top of the gangplank. “Get up here with that load, you half-witted bugger! We're ready to cast off.”
“T' maister,” Lionel mumbled again. He hitched his burden higher on his shoulder as if it was particularly heavy.
Pippa felt the wooden shoe slip. Desperately she tried to catch it on her toe, but the cloth made it impossible to bend her feet. She felt the sabot slide off her toe, and through the racing blood in her ears she heard the clatter as it hit the cobbles of the quay.
The soldier stared at the shoe, then up at the bundle, and comprehension dawned. Someone was being smuggled aboard. It was what he'd been told to look for. He gave a triumphant shout and lunged forward, his sword in his hand.
Lionel dropped Pippa unceremoniously to the cobbles just a second before the sword reached its target. His own knife now glittered in his hand as he dodged the thrusts of his opponent, looking for an opening.
Pippa kicked and fought her way out of her bindings. She sprang to her feet in one movement, not thinking, not feeling, reduced to an animal state of pure muscle and impulse.
A heavy oiled chain lying on the cobbles caught her eye and she grabbed it up without thought or even an act of will, staggering under its weight as she swung it wildly at the soldier, who was shouting for assistance. His sword caught Lionel a glancing blow on the arm and at the sight of his bright blood dripping to the ground, Pippa became enraged.
With a gigantic effort she hurled the entire chain at the soldier's head. It struck him on the ear and he staggered. She bent, took up the loose cloth, and flung it over him, tangling his limbs. He went down on one knee. Light spilled over the quay as the door to the tavern on the docks was flung wide and men surged out drunk and eager for a melee.
“Run!” Lionel yelled, grabbing her hand.
She saw then with a sickening jolt to her stomach that Sea Dream had taken up her gangplank and was already moving away from the dock. She was being rowed away, twelve pairs of oars pulling to a chanted rhythm while men swarmed over her rigging, hoisting her foresail.
“They're going!” she gasped.
“Just run!” He hauled her after him towards a long jetty that stretched out into the water at the far end of the quay. She ran. Her tattered skirts streaming behind her, her now bare feet torn by the rough stones. But she felt no discomfort. Behind them came the sounds of pursuit. Shouts, pounding feet. A stone flew past her ear.
They were abreast of Sea Dream as they reached the very end of the jetty. A rope flew through the air and Lionel caught it in one hand. He grabbed Pippa against him with his free arm and jumped for the deck. His foot slipped on the rail and he fell, still clutching both rope and Pippa, banging against the side of the ship, which was now picking up speed as the wind from the open water caught the sail. The wound in his arm opened further under the pressure and hot blood soaked Pippa's bodice.
She reached up and seized hold of the rope above Lionel's head, so that it could take her weight and free Lionel of the need to hold her.
“Climb!” he instructed, giving her an almighty boost with his free hand. And she did so, hand over hand, aware of Lionel dangling beneath her, bleeding into the water that now slipped rapidly by.
Hands reached over the rail and grabbed her, yanking her up and over to fall in a heap on the decking. Lionel was seconds behind her. Willing hands pulled him over the rail and he fell across Pippa's body, knocking the breath from her.
For a moment they both lay dazed and unmoving, then Lionel hitched himself up onto his elbows and leaned over Pippa.
“Lucifer and all his angels!” he said. “Where in the name of God's good grace did you learn to fight like that?”
“I have no idea,” she said. “It just happened. I was so angry, Lionel. Not frightened, just filled with rage. He was going to kill you.” She gave him a rather bewildered smile that nonetheless managed to be a little smug.
He kissed her, on her nose, on her eyes, then on her mouth. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him in her turn with a sudden wild hunger. She had nearly lost him. They had so nearly been lost to each other. And she now knew that she could bear anything but that.
A loud cough from above brought them back to the reality of the ship's deck, the cold wind, the creaking rigging. Lionel pulled himself to his feet. Blood still dripped from his arm.
“Thought it best to set sail,” Longton said, sounding somewhat anxious. “Reckon you needed to make a quick getaway.”
Lionel ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “Aye, that we did. Although I'd not be here now if it weren't for my warrior friend.” He laughed, and it felt like the first time since he could remember that he had laughed with genuine amusement.
Pippa scrambled to her feet and leaned against the deck rail. She looked back to the receding dock. A group of men still stood at the end of the jetty, staring after them. “Are we safe? Truly safe?”
Lionel glanced at the captain. “Can they come after us?”
“They could try.” He shrugged. “But they'd have to find a ship, and far as I know there's none in Southampton Water at the moment ready to sail. Besides, the tide'll turn in a quarter hour. We'll be out in the Solent by then and nothing can catch Sea Dream in full sail with a good wind behind.”
“But we have to pick up Robin and Luisa,” Pippa said urgently. “We can't leave them.”
The captain looked up at the sky. “There'll be a good overcast within the hour. You look like you need some medical attention, sir. And the lady, too.”
Lionel examined Pippa. “There's blood on your bodice.”
“'Tis yours,” she said, lifting his arm where his shirt was ripped to reveal a long bleeding gash. “Where can we go to tend to this?”
“My cabin, madam. Mr. Ashton will have the use of it on the voyage. You should find all you need.” The captain nodded and returned to his quarterdeck.
“I don't understand,” Pippa said. “He didn't say he would pick up Robin and Luisa, he just said the sky would be overcast.”
“He's a man of few words,” Lionel said. “But he meant that a dark sky will favor us. Come, let's go below.”
Pippa let her hand curl small and unresisting into his palm. That burst of violent energy still infused her and she still felt the imprint of Lionel's mouth on hers. A strange euphoria filled her, so that she didn't notice that she was leaving bloody footprints on the immaculate decking.
Lionel noticed, however, as they reached the companionway. He looked at the trail she had made. “Your feet must be cut to ribbons.”
“Yes, I think they are,” she said happily. “But they'll heal.”
Lionel looked at her askance. If he hadn't known better he would have said she'd had one tankard too many of strong ale. She gave him a beatific smile, and he laughed aloud at the contrast of the deep, glowing hazel eyes with her filthy face and the tangled dirty mess of her cinnamon curls. In a convulsive hug he caught her against him with his good arm.
She rested her head on his chest. “So much to talk about,” she said, her voice serious once more. “So much time wasted in anger and bitterness.”
It was as if all the pent-up bitterness that had been constricting her very soul had been consumed in that wild outburst of animal rage. It was as if that scorching heat of fear and fury had som
ehow purified her. She could see clearly again and her spirit felt green and fresh and welcoming, like the earth warmed by the spring sun.
He stroked her hair, knowing instinctively that now was not the time for him to speak. Then he gently released her, pushing her towards the companionway.
Pippa looked around the captain's small but well-appointed cabin. “How neat this is,” she said. “And how clever to have a bed that comes out of the wall like that. It takes up no floor space.”
“Get out of those filthy clothes,” he directed, knotting his scarf with his teeth around the wound in his arm before lifting a large, lidded wooden pail. “There's water aplenty. I promised you that, I believe.”
“Let me wash and bandage your arm first,” Pippa said, hunting for bandages in one of the lockers fitted into the bulwark.
“It can wait. 'Tis only a flesh wound. Let me wash you first and look at your feet. And then you may return the ministrations.” He set a round wooden tub in the middle of the floor. “Strip off those disgusting garments and stand in here.”
“You mean,” Pippa said slowly, “that we are at last to be naked together?”
“Yes, but for purely practical purposes,” he replied with a grin. “Should I help you with those clothes?”
“I can probably do it more quickly, since you have only one workable arm.” She stripped to her skin with swift careless movements and then stood suddenly and absurdly shy under the swaying lantern that hung from the ceiling.
Lionel ran his eyes over her in a lingering caress before indicating the tub with a jerk of his head.
Pippa stepped over the edge. She closed her eyes tightly as water cascaded over her head. Then his hands were all over her, warm and soapy, rubbing her hair, her body, lingering on her breasts so that her nipples rose small and hard, sliding between her thighs so that she gave a little murmur of suspended pleasure. He knelt to wash her feet, his fingers gentle on the cuts. She winced nevertheless, her body once more alive to sensation both pleasurable and painful.
He stood up and lifted the pail of water again. “Keep your eyes closed.” The water poured over her and she protested faintly that there wouldn't be enough for him.
“There will be. Step out now.” He wrapped a linen towel around her, then sat on a low stool. “Kneel down and I'll dry your hair.”
She did so, resting her forehead against his knees as he worked on her hair. “Clothes,” she murmured. “I have no clothes.”
“I thought you wished to dispense with such burdensome articles,” he said, rubbing briskly.
“I can hardly go on deck naked,” she pointed out.
“True. But we have no need to go anywhere at present. It will be another hour before we can expect to see Luisa and Robin.”
He took the towel from her head. “There, 'tis so thick that's the best I can do.”
Pippa shook her hair loose around her face and down her back. It smelled wonderful. Damp but clean. She let the towel fall from her body, no longer shy. “Your turn, sir.” She reached for his belt.
She washed him as he had washed her, her hands moving over his body in the same way, lingering where it would please them both. His penis rose and hardened between her hands and she laughed softly as he stood with his hands on his hips, his eyes closed.
“You're like some pasha in a harem,” she accused, standing on tiptoe to kiss his mouth. “What else does my master desire?”
“A towel first,” he replied with a languid gesture.
Playfully she threw a fresh linen towel at him, and then perched on the stool watching him dry himself. The sight of his naked body thrilled her. He was so spare, pared to the bone, all sinew and muscle. She was deeply aroused and yet willing to wait, relishing the anticipation. Once Luisa and Robin were safely aboard, then there would be no reason why they shouldn't bolt the cabin door and stay there until they reached France.
Her tongue touched her lips in a lascivious gesture of which she was not in the least conscious, but it made Lionel catch his breath.
“I think perhaps you should put some clothes on,” he said a little unsteadily. “Now is not the time.”
“I am aware,” Pippa said. “But what shall I put on?” She opened her palms in a helpless gesture.
Lionel wrapped the towel around his loins and padded to the bulkhead. “Malcolm should have ensured the necessaries were stowed in here.”
He handed her hose, chemise, petticoat, and a simple gown of pale green linen. “No farthingale, no hood,” he commented. “But there's this.” He held out an embroidered silk shawl. “And a pair of slippers.” Plain kid slippers followed.
“What more could I ask? You seem to have planned for everything.” She dropped the chemise over her head and sat down to pull on the hose.
“That surprises you? How very disappointing. I thought you knew me better than that.” He had opened another locker, which contained clothes for himself.
“I suppose it doesn't really surprise me,” Pippa conceded, shaking out the skirts of the linen gown. “Let me dress your arm before you put on the shirt. I saw some witch hazel and bandages in that locker.”
He allowed her to wash and dress the wound, and fasten a clean bandage around it. Her hair fell forward over her face as she bent to her task, and his fingers trolled idly but pleasurably through the damp curls. He traced the curve of her neck, marveling at its delicacy, and the tight whorls of her ears.
“I feel as if I'm discovering you anew,” he said in soft wonder. “As if I had not known you before, had not known what it is to love you and desire you.”
She raised her head. “I feel it too. But without urgency. 'Tis as if we must wait until everything comes together as it was always supposed to.”
Lionel nodded, running a fingertip over the line of her mouth.
“This is a time, this hour that we have when we must wait, when things are being renewed.” She spoke hesitantly, feeling for the words. “Like buds waiting for the earth to warm.”
She shook her head. “That is so fanciful and I am not in the least a fanciful person, as Robin will tell you.”
“On which subject, let us go on deck. We have been at anchor this last half hour.”
“We have?” She scrambled to her feet. “I didn't notice.”
“I did.” He pulled on his shirt, tucking it into the waistband of a pair of plain britches.
“I don't think I can bear to put these slippers on,” Pippa said, grimacing. “My feet hurt so when I put them to the ground.”
“Easily remedied.” He bent to put his shoulder against her belly and hoisted her up. “Forgive me, but this is the only way I can manage with one arm.”
“Just don't drop me this time. Once in an evening is quite enough.”
They emerged on deck into a profound and silent darkness. The ship showed no light but rocked gently at anchor. Lionel set Pippa down and she thought at first that the deck was deserted, but when her eyes adjusted she saw men grouped around the capstan, ready to bring up the anchor, and when she looked up she could see shapes in the rigging. Sea Dream would be under way in a matter of minutes once her passengers were aboard.
She looked towards the coast but could see nothing in the dark. “Is it time for them to be here?” she whispered to Lionel. Fear was once more her companion. It sat on her chest like a rock, and filled her throat.
“Soon,” he said. He left her and climbed to the quarterdeck, where Longton stood at the wheel, staring out towards the coastline.
“How long can you give them?”
“No more than half an hour. There's navy ships patrolling the Solent. After the fracas at Southampton they'll soon be lookin' for us.”
Pippa climbed the ladder to join them. The pain in her feet was sharp but it had ceased to trouble her. She stood silently beside Lionel, staring into the darkness.
There came a low whistle from way up in the crow's nest and Longton nodded. “They've spotted 'em. Unless 'tis someone we don't want.”
Pippa clutched Lionel's hand, her heart jumping erratically. She thought she could see a gray triangular shape in the blackness. A sail . . . surely a sail. A seagull mewed, and was answered by another, and then another. But she was certain no bird made those calls.
“Is it them?”
“I believe so.” He had shown not a hint of his own anxiety but now he moved swiftly, following Longton to the main deck. Pippa waited where she was, where she could see the gray triangle grow more distinct as it came closer.
Men scurried soundlessly on the deck below. The small sailing dinghy was now clearly revealed and Pippa could see three figures. One at the helm, one on the prow, taking down the jib, and one huddled in the bottom of the boat.
Robin. Her heart lifted, its beat though still fast became rhythmic again. He rolled the jib deftly as it came down. The little boat knocked against the side of Sea Dream and was made fast.
Luisa came up the rope ladder first, tumbling over the rail. Lionel lifted her up and held her for a minute. And then Robin jumped to the deck and Pippa was there, hugging him, silent tears pouring down her face.
Dawn broke soon after they rounded the Needle Rocks and Sea Dream danced over the lively waters of the English Channel. Pippa lay in the crook of Lionel's arm on the captain's strange suspended bed looking out through the porthole at the rosy tinged waves swelling and slapping against the side of the ship.
Their loins were still joined as they had been when they fell into a deep sleep an hour or so before. She moved her hips against him and felt him stirring within her.
“I love you,” she whispered as he opened his eyes to look into her face on the pillow beside him.
“I love you. I have always loved you. Even before I knew you, I loved you,” he said.
She smiled and gave herself to a gentle loving that seemed almost as much a part of her as her own breathing.
But even through the joy of this declared love, the delight she took in his body, there ran a current of sadness, a premonition of loss.