by Andrea Jones
She stood by the dining table, the flaming taper in her hand reflected in the many bevels of the window behind her. “Thank you, Mr. Smee. Please join us at the table, Mister Hanover.” She was smiling, dressed in black silk that contrasted favorably with the color of her hair. The doctor didn’t approve of unbound hair, but in this case, he had to admit that its flowing fairness complemented the severe cut of her dark gown. She looked away to finish lighting the candelabra that gleamed on the table service. The skin of her arms, her throat, and the tops of her rounded breasts glowed in the aura of the candles. She set the taper in its holder and lifted the crystal decanter.
“Will you have some wine before dinner, Doctor?…Or would you prefer stale bread and water?” Her smile turned sly. Blood-red stones studded her throat, and a ruby line, clearly a recent cut, showed above them. The surgeon wondered; what had these barbarians put this young woman through?
“Mister Hanover?”
He blinked. Then he bowed. “Miss, I am at a disadvantage. I do not know your name, although you seem to be acquainted with mine.”
“Yes. Will you take some wine?”
“Of course. Thank you, Miss…?” He raised his eyebrows.
Again, she ignored his question. “Mr. Smee?”
“Aye, Madam, just a drop.” Smee stepped to her side and took over the serving. His movements were oddly gentle for a pirate, and a big pirate at that. He removed the decanter from her care as if it were too much of a burden for the lady’s hands.
It was then the doctor saw her mark. He recoiled from the sight. What could be the meaning of this bloodstained hand? It was not an injury. His practiced eye determined that she used it easily and painlessly as she raised two shining goblets.
The doctor watched, and his lips compressed as Smee covered the beauty’s fingers with his own, and poured the wine. Her left hand was unmarked. She offered one cup, the one in the crimson hand, to Smee, waiting until he had set down the decanter and grasped the glass before granting the other to the surgeon. Hanover accepted it, dropping his watch and allowing it to swing from its chain. She took none for herself.
“Doctor Hanover. Won’t you be seated?”
Mr. Smee pulled out a chair, looking meaningfully over his spectacles. Awakening with a start, Hanover realized that Smee’s goblet had disappeared. When he found the presence of mind to look for it, he noted an empty glass on the sideboard. Sitting down at last, the surgeon wondered how long he had been staring at the young woman, who had obviously been staring back at him.
The flush crept up his face again. Over the course of this afternoon’s confinement he convinced himself he had been foolish; this young woman could not be as he imagined her during the stress of yesterday’s events. Now he knew he was correct in this assessment, but in the opposite direction. She was even more captivating than he at first believed.
And bold. She stood unashamed in front of him, openly admiring his physical attributes, entertaining two men in a private room, and serving wine at a pirate captain’s table— as if it were all quite proper! Unheard of, in the surgeon’s experience.
“Who are you?”
She laughed. “So much for manners! Do I remind you of her so strongly, then?”
Hanover stammered through his astonishment. “I’m sorry. Yes, you do— And yet you don’t.”
“It’s a fine excuse for a gentleman to stare, anyway, comparing a pretty woman to a loved one.”
He shook his head. “I would not call you pretty, Miss.”
The woman affected to be offended, and her smile disappeared. “Oh, really? How blunt you are. You can’t be much of a favorite among the ladies.”
Hanover shot a glance at Smee and became uncomfortable at the keenness of his regard. Standing with his arms crossed, the sailor exuded a protective, almost possessive attitude toward this female that caused Hanover to wonder again about her situation. He pressed a napkin to his lips to stifle a question, and then he lowered it. He had to ask. “You bait me, but you already know you are exquisite. Please, tell me about yourself.”
She smiled in satisfaction. “Much better. And I regret to say that the captain neglected to inform me just how handsome and distinguished our ship’s surgeon is.” She looked him over once again, approvingly, then glanced over her shoulder into the shadows.
Hanover winced. Ignoring Smee’s chortle, he recovered. “I thank you, Miss, for the compliment. I am not accustomed to young ladies who state their opinions so readily.”
“How odd, Doctor, when you have stated yours without hesitation. But I pray you, don’t change for my sake!”
Hanover inclined his head to her. “Very well, then, I take you at your word. You are incomparable! But how shall I address you? You are…?”
“It is my turn to thank you. And as comparisons go, I happen to have met someone recently who resembles you rather strongly—”
“Let us not bore our guest with petty social conventions, Jill.” The low, smooth voice emerged from the darkness of the far window seat. Startled, Hanover swiveled to locate the speaker.
“The man is positively panting to know who you are. Shall you have mercy, ma belle dame, or must I apologize for your lack of manners, and send you away in disgrace?”
The doctor threw down his napkin and surged from his chair. “No! Do not send the young woman away on my account. It is I who took an improper liberty. I shall be most grieved if the lady is punished for my sins.”
“How gallant.”
“Surely we must all dine together?”
With a languid grace, Hook rose from the cushioned recess. “I am pleased you have dropped your idle protestations about dining with pirates, Hanover. Allow me to pour you another glass. A fine vintage…from your former ship.”
Abruptly, the doctor clapped his cup on the table. The fruity taste of the wine on his tongue turned sour. “No. No more. I won’t partake of your ill-gotten bounty. Captain.”
Jill removed his cup. “I see you are a man of principle.” Warmly, she smiled upon him. “But you’ve already…‘partaken.’” And she poured again. She lowered the decanter and lifted his glass. Automatically, his hand raised itself as she placed the goblet within his grasp, and he receded into his chair. She nodded once, and he drank.
Having digested this exchange, Hook strode to the table. Smee hastened to hold his chair, but Jill held up her red hand. She herself drew out the captain’s chair.
“Jill.” Hook touched her cheek and his eyes appraised her. “Do you not find the fairer sex captivating, Doctor? And so seductive, compelling even the strongest of us to do her bidding.” Hook dallied a few moments, admiring her, then sat down to lean on the table, leaving one long leg extended outward. His lethal hook loomed over the glossy finish. As he gazed again at Jill, his face displayed the satisfaction her presence brought him. “One feels one would do anything to win the favor of such a creature.” Smiling at her, he held out his hand. She placed hers within it and he kissed it, and then he turned to the surgeon, abandoning her hand as casually as if it had never honored his own.
Doctor Hanover frowned and searched the woman’s face for enlightenment. “Jill?”
Hook waved his claw. “A common enough name. Now I believe you have some scheme or other to propose to me regarding the lady?”
The doctor forced his intelligent gaze from the fair face to Hook’s. Business must be attended. “Yes.” Sitting up, Hanover felt for his watch. “I offer you my services as ship’s surgeon, for a specified amount of time, upon the release of this young woman. I ask that you return her to her home, wherever that may be.”
“An interesting notion, Hanover.” Still watching the doctor, Hook spoke over his shoulder. “Do you wish to go home, Jill? Here, it would seem, is your very last chance.”
With an unreadable expression, Jill served Hook a goblet of wine. “You do enjoy tormenting me, Sir, don’t you?” She raised her eyes. “As it happens, Mister Hanover, I come from London. The memory of my life there
is like a pleasant old storybook that one doesn’t pick up and dust off very often.”
“But surely you have not been away from home for very long? You are so young.”
“I really don’t know how long I’ve been away. Time has lost track of me.”
“Poor girl! And are your parents living, do they have any idea where you are?”
In a guarded movement, she ventured a glance at her master before replying. “I weary of the subject, Doctor. Tell me of your own history.”
“Yes, Hanover. Do tell us how you acquired your mark of distinction, your dueling scar?” Hook gave a knowing smile. “Over a woman, no doubt?” His claw reflected the candlelight as, delicately, he tapped it on his cup.
The surgeon stiffened. “A point of honor demanded to be settled. I would be less than a gentleman were I to discuss it. Let us say no more.” Drawn back to Jill, he said, “But, to answer your question, Miss, I come from Austria and attended an illustrious university in Germany. It is there I learned my profession, and also my fencing skills.”
“And met your wife?” Her lovely eyes engaged his.
Hanover drew a breath. “No. I met her in England. Bristol, in fact. She graced my life for only a handful of years, and then she died. It was then I took up my duties as ship’s surgeon aboard the merchant vessel that was so— tragically attacked yesterday.” Hanover shifted his gaze away and repositioned himself in the plush chair. Providentially, his possessions were restored to him. He had been relieved in the extreme to find the valuable contents of his medicine bag intact. But these people knew too much already; he didn’t want to inquire what they knew about Liza. Was she here, was she dead, or was she still aboard the ill-fated vessel he had called home?
“And why did you have to leave England, Doctor?” Hook’s expression was mild. Jill knew better than to believe in it.
Hanover paused before replying. “Why did you?”
“Touché, Doctor!” Hook’s laugh was generous. “I see you fence with words as well! That story is one for another evening, perhaps, when we know each other better.” Hook pulled Jill toward him. He draped her arm over his shoulder and idly stroked it. Hanover noticed that her fingers spread over the man’s chest, but whether in affection or resistance he couldn’t tell. Hook directed the conversation back to business.
“So you offer me your service in exchange for my Jill. I wonder. Just what amount of your time do you think a woman is worth to me?”
“Of course I cannot know that, but I am willing to serve you for, say, a year, if you will grant her freedom and see her safely to port. I will be more than happy to arrange for her safe passage home, and to provide the necessary papers.”
“Do have some more wine, Doctor.” Hook signaled to Jill to replenish the glasses. Mr. Smee had turned his back to the company and was decanting another bottle. Hanover examined his goblet. He hadn’t realized he had drained it. When Jill brought the decanter to its lip, he placed his open hand over it. Hook appropriated the flask and filled another goblet, which he handed to Jill, and the indispensable Smee stepped forward to hold a chair for her. Sweeping her skirts aside, she joined the company at the table.
Hanover observed Smee’s hands resting just below Jill’s shoulders, and, as his fingers lingered, she turned her head to acknowledge Smee. The sailor’s embrace tightened on her arms before he returned to the sideboard. The surgeon’s tone became urgent.
“I mean of course, that the young lady should return home unharmed.”
Hook’s smile was ironic. “On my honor as a gentleman, Hanover. I have never harmed her.” He turned to Jill. “You have heard the doctor’s offer, my love. I do have need of his services. What would you have me do with you?”
Hanover was fascinated by the cavalier manner with which the man tossed his hook in the air to accompany his words. He noted Jill’s eyes following it, too, and that her breathing accelerated.
“Oh, Sir. You know my heart. But if you are truly giving me the choice, I would consider carefully before accepting any offer of return. I’m afraid what is called ‘civilized society’ might not welcome one such as I so readily back into it.”
“So. It is as I feared then?” The doctor bowed his head. “You have already been compromised by your captivity.” He lifted his face again to catch her expression.
Hook raised an eyebrow. Jill stared at the man sitting so very upright, with his gray suit and his gold watch. Her eyes narrowed. “I never compromise, Mister Hanover. But in the interest of harmony, I shall try to overlook your presumption.”
Hook’s face had hardened. “Yes, Hanover. Be warned. I should hate to have to call you out and carve you another scar.”
As the doctor looked uneasily from Hook to Jill, he noticed the uncanny likeness between them. A similarity between their mouths. And their eyes— so perfectly matched. For the first time, it occurred to him that there might be more here than pirate and prisoner. He studied Jill more closely.
“I apologize for my misapprehension, Miss.” His voice took on an unpleasant edge. “Or is it Madam? I simply seek to be of service to you.”
Hook smirked. “There is no shortage of service to ‘Madam’ aboard the Roger. Is there, Mr. Smee?”
“Oh, no, Captain. And I’ll be just as happy to go on doing the stitching that needs done if you decide to cast the gentleman adrift, Sir.” Smee turned a cold smile on the doctor and Hanover recognized that, of the two of them, it was the educated and conscientious surgeon who was expendable.
“Thank you, Mr. Smee. It will be up to the gentleman himself to chart the next leg of his voyage.” Hook directed a subtle nod to Jill.
She sensed it, although her gaze remained fixed on Hanover. “What of your own girl’s service, Doctor? Exactly when do you intend to ask about Liza?”
Hanover became cognizant of three sets of eyes watching him with intensity, and, at last, his confidence was shaken. Now he knew. They had her. “I was hoping you knew nothing about her. But I see that you really did take everything of value to me. And of course, I am asking. Where is she?”
Leisurely, Hook sipped his wine. He set down his goblet, then toyed with it. He sent it sliding along the tabletop to clink as his hook met the stem. Never taking his eyes from his prisoner, he slid it and caught it again. “She has been persuaded to join up with pirates, Hanover. Your own daughter, compromised.…But then, you can limit the damage to her, can’t you, by staying on as well?” Hook set his goblet aside. “What do you say to a trial arrangement?”
Hanover turned pale with fury. “What can I say, but yes? Of course there is no question of leaving her here! But, what exactly do you mean when you say she has joined you?”
Jill’s voice cut through his confusion. “Liza has agreed to stay on as my personal attendant. She will be compensated, protected, and not overworked. As I told her this morning, I intend to keep her for a limited time, unless the arrangement works to our mutual satisfaction and she chooses to stay longer. She knows you are aboard. She waits even now in your quarters.” Jill watched closely, but the man’s face had displayed no surge of tenderness at the mention of his daughter. Only a grim assumption of responsibility. Now he turned on Jill.
“So you have sold yourself to piracy? You, the captive, now have a captive of your own to give you some sense of power in your helplessness? And to think I sought to save you! I see now it is much too late for that. You are already tainted by—” he shot a look at Hook, “experience. And I am to be rewarded for my good intentions by seeing my daughter pressed into service along with me.”
Hook drew himself up to an imposing height. “Do not presume to chastise my mistress, Hanover. Any insult to Jill is insulting to me. The lady is in no position to satisfy your urges, whether you desire to perform good works or to follow your baser instincts. There was never any question of putting her ashore, with or without you, and well she knows it. I see we do not agree, personally or professionally, but I will allow you time to adjust to your situation. There
is no choice in any case, as we’ll not be putting into port soon. And if your daughter is too good to wait upon my lady, then you are too good to attend to my men, and you can both enjoy the hospitality of my brig. Mr. Smee, kindly do the honors.”
The doctor sat back in his chair and watched while Smee strode to the door and opened it, and a parade of willing servers entered the cabin with silver salvers to wait upon the diners. A sumptuous feast was laid before him. His goblet was refilled time and again. The lady, making the best of her circumstances, was charming and gay, and the captain warmed to regale his company in recounting the more colorful of his many voyages. After dessert and liqueur offered in exquisite crystal, cigars were passed with the lady’s kind permission and the music began at the harpsichord and ended in song. And the lady consented to dance with all the gentlemen present, while the candles burned lower and the ship plowed on through unknown waters and the moon trailed her slippery silver strings in its wake, visible through the grand, velvet-lined windows of the very comfortable quarters of the quixotic, enigmatic, and apparently, even romantic, brass-plated Capt. Jas. Hook.
Doctor Hanover shook his head and doubted as he sat ensconced in a velvet chair, overwhelmed and fingering his watch, if he would ever manage to disentangle himself and his impressionable young daughter from this finely woven web of luxury, corruption, and delightful deceit. He watched the woman, this Jill, whose name was common enough, and wondered if she, herself, might be persuaded to be common, and if she already had been. And until he could lower himself to partake of her mysteries, did he really care enough for himself and for Liza to escape these barbarous pirates after all?
§ § §
After a pleasant struggle, the rubies had been locked away, and the brace with its iron claw hung from its hook by the bed, swinging with the motion of the sea. Jill reclined in the master’s arms, listening to the beams croon as the ship settled into the night, and considering the evening’s events.