by Andrea Jones
“Captain, the marks have the look of a rod.”
“A rod. Yes.”
“And it’s not the child’s first set of bruises. Some older ones lie beneath.”
With gathering distress, Jill nodded. “Yes…I’ve seen her limping before this. I didn’t understand. And she made a point of hiding her legs from me the day she lengthened her skirt. That was the morning you were so displeased to find your shirt missing, Captain.”
“Yet she has never made any reference to the subject?”
“Not to me.”
“So. Unless Mr. Tootles is indeed guilty, the girl is protecting her assailant. One presumes, out of fear.”
“Maybe not. Maybe he is someone for whom she cares.” Jill’s expression was doubtful. “But I know of no one, other than Tom, who has spent any time with her at all.”
“Ma’am, she pulled a dirty trick on me, but I wouldn’t—”
“Mr. Tootles,” Hook interrupted, “Since you are determined to speak, tell me what you surmise about the girl’s relations with other members of ship’s company.”
“Well, Sir…Mr. Yulunga used to tease her, but he’s stopped that since— since I got in trouble. And Nibs and Bill Jukes and all the men, really, watched her, same as me. But as far as I know, Sir, no one but me was ever idiot enough to touch her.”
Still cold, Hook’s regard shifted from the scar on Tom’s temple to Smee. “And when would you estimate this beating took place?”
“Recently, by the looks of it. Last night, Sir.”
“Ah! Then our only hope to deflect culpability depends upon last night’s boarding party. What of LeCorbeau’s men?”
Considering, Smee slowly shook his head. “No, Sir, she was never alone with any of that lot.”
“You are sure of this?”
“Aye. I shut her in your quarters myself immediately after she angered you, and shooed her in again when she slipped out later. After that I watched closer than ever, but she stayed put. You saw her here, yourself—” Smee stopped abruptly. His ruddy face paled as he realized exactly what he had been on the verge of saying. But already, it was too late.
Hook raised an eyebrow. Perversely, he prompted his bo’sun to continue. “You are performing admirably, Mr. Smee. Pray go on with your deduction. You were saying?”
Smee’s stomach pitched in a sickly fashion as he finished his sentence, his voice fading to a murmur. “I was saying, Sir, that you saw her here, yourself. When you fetched the lady’s cloak.”
With an elegant formality, the captain inclined his head. “I did, indeed. She was all by herself, serving penance for drawing my attention to her. And, Mr. Smee, how long would you say I lingered here, alone with the ‘child?’ ”
In an agony of discomfort, Smee cast his eyes down. “Not more than five minutes. Sir.”
“Five minutes. Yes.”
Jill scanned the company’s faces, but the men avoided her eyes. As Hook addressed her, she returned his look with one of disbelief.
“Jill, my love. What was it you said when I offered to bring your wrap? Remind me.”
“Captain, I don’t recall—”
“Of course you do. You have a very sharp memory. Like my own.”
“I believe I remarked that I would fetch the cloak myself rather than risk a further affront to you from Liza.”
“Yet I did the gentlemanly thing. Well, then. Now we all know the facts surrounding the incident.” Deliberately, he picked up his ebony baton, weighed it, and rolled it in his fingers. “And knowing my character as you do, there is only one possible answer. Isn’t there?” Hook’s face hardened to a wintry satisfaction. “The girl misbehaved, and she was punished. By the one man who has not been prohibited from touching her.” He looked each sailor in the eye. “There will be no further discussion of this incident.”
“Sir?”
“No, Madam. You will not mention it again, even to the girl.”
“Captain…I promised her your protection!”
Answering, his velvet voice fell smooth. “From my men. And none of them has harmed her.”
As she looked into his eyes, the full implication of his words struck her. Her mouth opened and her heart began to pound. She abandoned questioning. Just this one time, she didn’t want to be told the truth.
Her words nearly choked her. “Aye, Sir.”
“Leave us.”
Smee, Starkey, and Tom rose quickly, disguising their surprise. Glancing at the captain, Tom felt considerable relief that Hook didn’t blame him this time. But Tom wasn’t quite sure who he did blame. Turning to leave, he saw Starkey exchanging a puzzled look with Smee who, still preoccupied with the ramifications of Hook’s conclusion, hastily waved Tom and his tutor away.
Pausing by the door, Mr. Smee awaited further orders. There were none, just a lethal glint in the captain’s eye. Still worried, Smee stepped out of the cabin and its tension, leaving the master and mistress to speak alone.
“Madam. Are you not aware that you have been flirting with danger?”
Unable to help himself, Smee loitered outside the door to hear just a bit more.
“Sir, I am not afraid.”
“Jealousy can be a powerful monster.”
“I trust that you would never allow me to come to harm.”
A chair scraped on the boards, and the stick slammed onto the desk. She gasped then, and the bo’sun regretted his eavesdropping.
Mr. Smee would protect her as far as possible, but in the end, the lady made her own choices.
She’d just have to live with this one.
Chapter 13
The End of the Game
Mr. Nibs rested his chin in his hand, oddly serious among the other off-duty men in the galley. The gunports gaped open, but he had an uncomfortable feeling that the walls were closing in on him. He’d never felt that way on the Roger before, but now he itched to kick off from her deck and soar over the waves. It was suddenly taxing to be confined, even in such a beautiful ship, and today, with a test of skill awaiting him, Nibs wished only for the companionship of his brother, and an open sky between them.
But Tom was below, polishing their cutlasses and busy avoiding doctor and daughter. Here in the galley, observed by a loose crowd of onlookers, Mr. Yulunga and several others hunkered near the floor, playing a dice game at which Yulunga was winning in spite of his losing tosses. The African king had a way with dice no one cared to dispute. In Tom’s usual place by Nibs stood Mr. Cecco, relaxing against Nibs’ barrel with a mug of grog in his hand. Leaning toward the younger sailor, Cecco spoke confidentially under the skittering of the dice and the exclamations of the sailors.
“You are wise to refuse the play, Mr. Nibs. Although my fearsome mate and I share much between us, in order to retain our friendship I long ago stopped engaging in all such games with him. It seems he cannot be beaten.”
“I noticed that. But I’m not in a mood for games, anyway.”
“So I see. Tell me, besides your challenge today, what is your ailment? You and your brother seem at odds these days.”
Nibs shook his head. “We’re not at odds. Tom’s just not over what that girl did to him. I thought he was all right for a while, especially after we disabled the Dutch ship and earned the captain’s approval again, but in the days since then he’s refused to even talk about her.”
“A wise precaution. That little girl is best left alone.”
“She’s done something else to him, I can tell. Mr. Smee warned us she’d make more trouble, even if we ignored her.”
Lifting his gaze to the ceiling, Cecco intoned, “Mr. Smee! The ladies’ man. But even he, it seems, cannot win the girl’s civility. And you are right. I have been watching; something has happened to cause your lovely mother to distrust her, even after young Miss offended the captain.”
“Tom knows what it is, but all I can get from him is joking.”
“He was not joking when he left you here at breakfast.”
Tossing his head, N
ibs shifted on his barrel. “I know what that’s about. The doctor.”
“Since falling out of love with the daughter, Mr. Tootles seems no longer concerned with impressing the father.”
“Aye. But Doctor Hanover’s changed. He seemed so cold when he first came aboard, but now he’s acting more friendly. At least to you and me and Mr. Yulunga. He’s not so bad. I don’t know why Tom avoids him.”
“When a girl has disappointed you, her father is the last person you want to meet. Not that I have firsthand experience of this phenomenon, you understand. I have never been disappointed. Nor do I expect to be.” Cecco’s smile flashed and Nibs laughed, then the younger sailor’s face returned to its set expression.
“I’m not likely to meet any girls’ fathers, unless I decide to take up the doctor’s offer.”
With a shrewd look, the Italian paid closer attention to his shipmate, who had now touched on the matter he wished to clarify. “I have observed the man advising you. What offer has he made?”
Nibs smiled without levity. “You’ll laugh, Mr. Cecco. Doctor Hanover thinks I’m too good for piracy. He’s of the opinion that I should go to medical school.”
Cecco’s olive face darkened, and a dangerous light sparked in his eye. “You?” So the surgeon had begun to court the lady’s sons, too! “Of course.…Well, I admit you would make a fine job of any profession you chose, but…what is his purpose?”
“I asked Jill what she thought of the idea.”
“And?”
“She reminded me of my oath.”
“You were very young when you took it.”
“So was Jill.”
“Yes.” Too young, Mr. Cecco hoped, to bind herself for long. Carefully, he probed for more. “Our captain might release you both, if she requested him to do so.”
“I know that, from the discussion about joining LeCorbeau. Doctor Hanover asked me about that suggestion, too, and I told him I’d never sail under any captain but Hook.”
“I agree with you there. If for some reason our worthy captain ends my service, I intend to be my own captain. But such ambition is a long way off for you, and so our doctor encourages you instead to become a gentleman, as we have so often poked fun at your brother for seeming?”
“Jill ordered me not to offend him, but just imagine me as a gentleman! But then, I can’t think about much of anything today, I’m that nervous. So’s Mr. Starkey. Tom and I saw him slipping a nip from his flask when he thought our backs were turned.”
Falling silent, Nibs would have brooded again, but Cecco prompted, “Has the lady expressed any inclination to be released from her pledge to our captain?”
“Not to us. And Hook pays more attention to her than ever. He’s stepped up her sailing instruction, and except when she’s writing or when she’s with Miss, he’s always watching her. She can’t make a move he doesn’t approve. And she turns his vigilance to her profit. Have you seen her new ring?”
“I have seen everything.” The gypsy eyes never missed anything about the lady, and never overlooked a trinket, not even a trinket of much lesser value than the mistress’ new ring, or one displayed on less colorful hands. But the jewelry, for once, wasn’t Cecco’s concern. “So, as I have observed, the lady is guarded, and rewarded with jewels for her loyalty. Content to keep her promises.” For now.
“Sure. But when Tom and I had supper in the captain’s quarters last night, she seemed unsettled. She said she was anxious to start fencing again. Cooped up too long by the doctor’s orders. Hook laughed at her for following them, but she said it was all part of the game.”
The game. Raising his mug to drink, Cecco hid his expression as he stored his companion’s information. He was forming a clearer picture of the lady’s relations to the doctor. After the warning Cecco gave her, she must have a reason for her continuing attentions. A reason running deeper than mere attraction. Cecco had no question she took his threat seriously; she was careful, now, to remain aloof under the eyes of the sailors— and the captain. But still, she managed every day to spend time with Hanover. Listening closely to Nibs, Mr. Cecco watched the dice roll and skitter as the young sailor continued.
“And she was excited about what today means for Tom and me. We made a lot of toasts, but the two of us were careful not to drink too much. Have to be sharp this afternoon. The captain, too. Jill rationed the wine and even made Hook drink a cup of water before she sent us off to our beds.”
“You two are settling. It is a good thing. This I know, because I have always been a wanderer. And what were your toasts on the propitious eve of your trial?”
“The captain proposed ‘Success in every endeavor.’”
“Yes.” Cecco lifted his grog. “I will drink to that.”
“And Tom hoisted a glass to ‘Disaster averted.’ I thought of today and made mine ‘Proving worthy.’”
“And the lady’s?”
“I didn’t understand her toast at all. She got a gleam in her eye, so I know it was special to her.”
“She drank to her new ring of emeralds, perhaps?”
“No. I saw rainbows from the candles when she raised her crystal glass—”
“In her scarlet hand.”
“Aye. And then she smiled the way she does when she’s got a secret.”
The Italian had abandoned his mug and begun watching the young man’s face intently. Now he nodded. Giovanni Cecco knew in his soul what his red lady had said. His voice mellowed, and he spoke her words slowly.
“‘To other oceans.’”
Amazed, Nibs blinked. “You knew? How?”
Crossing his arms, Mr. Cecco gripped his golden arm bands and leaned against the barrel. “Gypsy magic, my friend. Your lovely mother is a wanderer, too.”
Considering, Nibs said, “I guess you’re right. She’s forever looking for adventure.”
Always ready to seize his opportunity, Cecco was well prepared for this one. As in Yulunga’s dice play, the outcome of the game was decided. Cecco had only one question, and it didn’t really matter what the answer happened to be. He was merely curious.
When Red-Handed Jill renounced her oath, would she come immediately to her devoted sailor— or would he have to kill someone first?
Yulunga’s rich laugh resounded through the galley over the groans of his opponents, and one string of his colorful necklace burst at last. Beads went flying, to bounce and roll crazily all over the wooden floor. Glad of something to do, Nibs slid off his barrel and helped to hunt them down.
Mr. Cecco leaned back and watched, thinking how easily beautiful things— and their promises— could be broken.
§ § §
Doctor Johann Hanover sat brooding over his desk, staring at the leather-bound tome between his elbows, and not seeing a word on the page.
This morning, like each morning of the previous weeks, had been pleasant. He breakfasted in the genial company of Mr. Cecco, Mr. Nibs, and Mr. Yulunga. Then he enjoyed a stroll on deck with the lady, marred only by the fact that she now consistently declined to take his arm in front of the sailors. Their constitutional was followed by yet another reading lesson. Until yesterday, Liza’s movements were restricted, and as she lay on her bunk in the afternoons, chained, Hanover had rebuked his daughter until her behavior met with Jill’s satisfaction. Confined to only two cabins on the ship, yet she obliged her father each day by leaving her lesson to fetch something from his quarters— more parchment, a bottle of ink, anything, really— granting the physician a few minutes each session to inquire hopefully of the lady once again, Is it today, Madam?
Every day, with a flattering little obstinacy, the lady refused to answer until he told her something of himself. She now knew of his travels, his early experiments and his emigration to England, even his reasons for selecting his first wife and the fact of her tragic death from heart failure. When pressed to expound upon the diamonds with which he tempted Jill, Hanover was indulgent, remembering that, after all, she lived among buccaneers; but to date he ha
d indicated only that his profession was a lucrative one. True to his word, he held himself in check, waiting until she granted permission to touch her. And each day, when she at last capitulated— just before Liza’s knock— he was fascinated by her answers to his question, Today? and the brief but stimulating manner in which she delivered them, always leaving him aching for more— tomorrow!
In general, however, she was proving difficult, much more forward, more headstrong than other women, and the result was that he was further intrigued by the problem— and possibilities— she presented. To say the least, this Jill was an interesting study. The doctor’s watch hung neglected as he considered her. An exotically scented piece of cloth had supplanted his timepiece, and he rubbed it between his finger and thumb. His pulse hammered as he remembered how she had rewarded his very first act of theft. The handkerchief wasn’t the only prize her pillow harbored that morning, and he had stolen whatever he could take.
And on that pillow, Doctor Hanover had examined the lady once again— disappointingly, under the watchful eyes of the captain— and pronounced her fit. It hadn’t been proper to ask, of course, but it was obvious that after her specious fainting episode, the lady ceased wearing a corset. Hanover was undecided as yet whether he would insist she adopt such a garment after their marriage. It was a question that had preoccupied him just now, while he was attempting to conduct some medical research. He couldn’t concentrate. Employing empirical facts, the only hypothesis the surgeon set forward had rendered a simple, foregone conclusion: the sooner he could have her, the better.
Bitterly, Hanover regretted the conditions under which LeCorbeau would conduct their marriage, and an acid taste rose in his gullet. Hating himself, Hanover had begun courting Mr. Nibs— yes, courting was the word for it— befriending the young man, even attempting to interest him in a medical career. Jill had only laughed when, claiming to long for a son, Hanover suggested the possibility to her, even offering to sponsor the boy’s education and wield his influence to enter him at Heidelberg. But Hanover was nothing if not persistent. She was listening, and soon he would find a way to persuade her to act in the boy’s best interests— at this point the surgeon’s conscience always brought him up short. Nibs’ well-being had nothing to do with it. The story was only a fabrication, to deliver the young man into LeCorbeau’s lascivious grasp— and to release Hanover himself, his future wife, and his daughter from Hook’s.