Other Oceans: Book Two of the Hook & Jill Saga

by Andrea Jones

  The pirate lay naked, now, except for his breeches. Not stopping to examine his severed wrist, Hanover pulled the captain by one leg and one arm. Hook’s head lolled, his hair fell forward over his face as the athletic surgeon knelt down by the bunk and hauled Hook’s weight onto his shoulders. Staggering under the load, Hanover kept his back to the bed. He stood, hoisting the pirate to the higher bunk while Liza pushed his legs over the edge. Hanover released Hook to roll on his back. Stepping on his own bunk, he shoved Hook’s body toward the wall, and climbed down.

  Then, with pleasure, Hanover reaped his revenge. He drew Hook’s ring of keys from his own pocket, and set to work on the manacles chained to his bunk. Unwinding the links from his bedpost, he dragged them clear. They jingled merrily as he tossed them into the upper bunk. He vaulted after them. A feeling of freedom washed over him as he secured the devil captain in his own cold chains, one at his wrist, one at his ankle, both firmly attached to the bedposts. And then the physician sat back and smiled.

  But no time remained to gloat. Ordering Liza to tidy the bunks, he drew the covers over Hook and jumped down. “Liza. You are to take to your bed and remove your shift. I will put it about that you are not well.” He reached under the bunk and dragged out Hook’s shirt. “Stuff this under the bedclothes, by your feet.” The coat he kept, turning his back on Liza and heading for the door. As she clambered up beside Hook, Hanover pressed his ear to the door to listen. He heard footsteps retreating up the stairs. When they faded, he slipped from the room and hastened to the spare cabin, closing its door softly behind him and shooting the bolt.

  Hook’s sword was there, lying across the desk. It presented another problem that the surgeon mulled as he eyed the wide open window. He soon realized the weapon was just what he needed. He threw down the coat and drew the rapier from its scabbard.

  The sword was exquisite. The hiss of its blade as Hanover released it energized him. Its surface was satin, its keen edges ready for a duel. Hanover smiled, gratified to use it against its master. Leaning out the window, he worked the tip savagely in the wood of the hull, swiping stray hair from his eyes as he tore up a splinter below the sill. Before he left the cabin, the crimson coat was flying like a banner off the stern, and the sword resumed the place in which its master had abandoned it.

  As his own door closed behind him, Hanover heard voices rising, and the trooping of boots surging down the steps. Men tore every direction, seeking their missing captain. Hanover shrugged on his coat and smoothed his hair just as a fist hit his door. Nibs entered with a crease deepening his dark brow, to discover the girl clutching a sheet over her bare bosom, wan and peeking from behind the upper bed curtain. In his habitual manner, the surgeon tugged at his coat cuffs.

  “Doctor. I’m to search your cabin. On the lady’s orders.”

  “The lady’s orders? I will do as she commands, of course. But I trust you will not take advantage of your position to molest my daughter on her sickbed?”

  Nibs shot one resentful look at the girl and said the same thing each subsequent searcher replied to the doctor’s question.

  “Sir, I want nothing to do with her.”

  § § §

  “Captain Cecco…” Softly, her voice intruded into his dream. It matched his dream.

  “Sir?”

  He opened his eyes, and came immediately awake at the sight of a razor glinting inches above his throat. Seizing Jill’s wrist, he launched himself to tumble her sideways, so that his body pinned her. He grappled for her other wrist and captured that, too. Her hand was empty, but her face was full of mischief as she smiled at his reflexes. Her four golden bracelets glimmered just below his fists. She laughed.

  “Captain! Is this how your ‘ideal woman’ is to be greeted each day?”

  He heaved a sigh, and the remaining chains around his neck mingled familiarly with her own as he kissed her. Her response was warm. It hadn’t been a dream, after all. During the night, the captain and his lady had given each other everything they had to give, and on this bright new morning, the two were one.

  The razor thumped onto the bed. Cecco released her hands to let her wind them, tinkling with gold, around the back of his neck. His own hands picked her up with no effort and set her on his knees, and the energy that had flowed so quickly to his defenses now poured itself somewhere else. Glancing at the ruined door, Cecco debated, then left the decision to Jill.

  “Madam. The light is strong this morning, and our doorway is no barrier against the prying eyes of our crew.”

  Extricating herself from his arms, she stood, unveiling an intriguing smile. She was almost wearing her sky-blue dressing gown. With her back to the door, a great deal of her charms were revealed only to her captain. As she bent to retrieve the razor, she made sure his stubbly jaw grazed her cheek.

  “Ah, Sir, the decision is easy. You are in need of a shave before we appear before the company, and…” She took him by the hand. “Everything is ready.” She led him to the captain’s shaving stool by the foot of the bed, set down the razor, and situated him with his back to the port windows, so that the gaping doorway lay behind her. She pushed him against the chair back and picked up the brush and bowl.

  The chair was comfortable, Cecco noted, and it was covered in a thick towel. But he eyed the blade. “I suppose you are used to wielding that razor?”

  “Oh, no, Sir. This is a service I can render to you that I have never performed for any man before.”

  His smile flashed before she might cover it with lather. “I appreciate the thought, but I will await the result before thanking you.”

  With caressing fingertips, she brushed the hairs from his forehead. “After your shave, I’ll loosen your hair and comb it for you. I’ve never seen it down before. And then you can show me how you like it bound.”

  “You favor me with your attentions, Lady. As I demanded that you do.”

  Her smile disappeared. “As I desire to do.”

  He cocked his head, assessing her sincerity. “Yes. So I see. You do not disappoint me.”

  She drew breath at her captain’s words, so loving and familiar, words Hook himself had used. Fighting off the ache for her missing master, she turned the conversation to business. “I sent Liza away while you were sleeping, Captain. She’ll see that Mr. Yulunga brings your sea chest— but not too soon.” She mixed the lather in its bowl, trying to ignore the other sea chest just behind her lover. She had been relieved this morning when the tapping she thought she heard all night resolved itself into Liza’s knock.

  “Ah, so you have seen to everything! I will need my finest breeches. And also, a few trinkets to replace some others I have lost.”

  Jill stopped stirring. As her new bracelets ceased to jingle, she looked in his dusky eyes. “Nothing you give to me is lost…Sir.”

  He grasped her hand below the shaving brush. “Bellezza. What would I not do for you?”

  A dart of pain shot through her as she remembered Smee’s words in the night. I’d have done anything for you, Lady…Steadily, she applied the shaving brush and buried the memory under the lather on Cecco’s chin. “All I require you not to do at the moment is to move while I am occupied with this razor.” She set down the bowl and held the blade poised above his beard.

  “Then do not tempt me.” With his hand, he restrained the razor. “But we have much to do today, Madam. First, we will present ourselves to the company. The men will want to see us emerge from the master’s quarters—” his eyes communicated his meaning, “Together.”

  Ship’s matters came first, and pleased that Cecco felt the same, Jill delayed his grooming. “Aye, Sir. I’ll wear the gold dress if it pleases you.” Hook had taught her to think, and to strategize. She had determined exactly what issues must be addressed, but allowed the captain to take the lead.

  “Certainly, the golden dress, to match your new jewelry.”

  “And next, Sir?”

  “After the breakfast for which I am famished, I will make rounds
of the ship. Then we will meet with our officers.”

  Jill smiled. Our officers.

  “I will appoint Mr. Mullins second mate, and Mr. Starkey to quartermaster. I have a few more items to resolve regarding the ship’s affairs, and then I will set a new course.”

  “You will speak with the surgeon, Sir?”

  “Yes. But first you will tell me more of his story. And after I talk with him, he will clearly understand my expectations.” Cecco’s eyes were cold. “There will be no more of the reading lessons.”

  “I am relieved to hear it.”

  “I may grant him a new trial period, which will of course last only until I decide what to do with him. If he troubles you, his ‘time’ will be over.”

  “Thank you, Sir. But please guard yourself. I have learned that where I am concerned, the gentleman is untrustworthy.”

  “I am touched by your concern. But again, I assure you that you need not worry.”

  Both pleasant and painful, an echo of Hook’s silken voice accompanied her answer— Hook’s own answer, once upon a time: “I never worry. I prepare.”

  “You are too young to be so wise. There is an old gypsy woman in your soul.”

  “And a fine gypsy man in my bed! Surely, Sir, the best of all possible worlds.” The best of a world that didn’t harbor Hook.

  “You flatter me very much, but I will not be distracted from our business. As for the surgeon’s daughter, the men believe the girl to be unlucky. You will explain to me in detail the trouble she has caused, and if I deem it advisable afterward, she may continue to serve you.”

  “You will lend her your protection?”

  “Until you tire of her.”

  “And then?”

  “She is now of age to be useful in other ways.” Watching Jill’s eyes widen, Cecco shook his head. “No, I would not lower your standing among the company. Your Miss is not interesting to me, except as a bargaining chip.”

  “I am grateful for that. And…Mr. Smee?”

  “As you commanded, his punishment is to mend the door. I anticipate no more problems from him. But Mr. Yulunga will be watching.”

  Jill hid her qualms; only time could teach her to trust Captain Cecco’s officer one fraction of the way Hook trusted Smee. Time was required, also, for those who loved Jill to count on Captain Cecco. And try as she might, Jill couldn’t foretell when, if ever, Captain Hook might be found. They must all cope, from one hour to the next. She said, “And with your agreement, I will speak to my sons. Nibs, at least, needs his mind set at ease. But perhaps the most important point— the hold is empty, Captain. The men will be watching to see how quickly you fill it.”

  “As I have said, you are a shrewd woman.”

  “And you, Sir, are a shrewd master. One who merits my respect.”

  “Lady, in spite of all I implied before the company yesterday, you would have made a fine captain.”

  “Captain Cecco….We vied for the position, and you outmaneuvered me. You deserve the post.”

  The captain smiled. “Together, we will run a tight ship.” He gestured to his chin. “Finish this shave now, so that we may get on with our ventures.”

  “Sir, I will begin, and you may let me know if you change your mind about hurrying.”

  Captain Cecco must be taught to trust, too. Jill set down the razor and stood in front of him, swirling the shaving brush in its bowl, and as she applied it to his face, an abundance of warm, soapy lather dribbled down his neck and his chest. She dipped the brush again, and held it suspended over his thighs so that it dripped liberally there, too. As he reached for the towel she stopped him, set down the bowl, and drew his arms around her waist. He tried to kiss her again, lather and all, but she pulled away.

  “No! Sir, you are all soapy. I refuse to kiss such a face.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You dare to deny me?”

  “I do, Sir.” She moved closer and straddled his lap. The gown behind her draped from her shoulders to the floor, rubbing against his shins and shielding her lovely backside from sight while the pleasing aspect of her front delighted him. “But I am a passionate woman. I won’t wait for this task to be done. You’ll have to think of another way to touch me while I work, so that I can tend to all your personal needs.”

  Cecco required no more prompting, and the lather on his legs made it easy. Dropping his hands to her hips, he slid her closer.

  His eyes grew dusky again. “With courage she defies me, and with grace she serves me. The perfect woman.”

  As she leaned forward and positioned him, he lifted her and set her down, gradually, keeping one eye cocked for the razor. She sucked in her breath. Seizing the blade, she leveled her gaze on his whiskers and steadied her hand.

  It was a tricky business, but worth every nerve-wracking moment. The soap required fresh application every few strokes and, possibly because she had never performed this task before, it didn’t always end on Cecco’s beard. A good measure of lather transferred itself from his breast to hers. Exhibiting a worthy conscientiousness, he dealt with it until she relinquished the brush, and then both partners painted each other with sudsy fluid. When at last she wielded the razor again, she had to steady herself many times. Bracing her feet on the floor on either side of the stool, she raised up for a better view of his face…only to lower herself slowly, exquisitely, down again…to inspect under his chin. For two very good reasons, Cecco informed her that she had, indeed, changed his mind about hurrying, and the operation took quite a bit of time after all. But as Jill had ordered, no one disturbed their intimacy, and by the time his mistress allowed him to apply the towel, they were both dizzy, and the captain was clean-shaven, smiling, and slightly nicked.

  He didn’t care. As the blade in her crimson hand scraped his stubborn whiskers, he hadn’t felt a thing. Except her love for him— liquid, warm…and soapy.

  § § §

  The sailors gave up any attempt at pretense. All the tasks on deck that could be done had been performed, three times. Even the flags were inspected and refolded. The black flag, Jolly Roger, was down as usual, waiting for the moment he’d be rattled up for action. The men were blatantly watching the portal where, months before, a lovely, disheveled girl had entered. That girl had emerged as a queen. Now, in spite of their confidence in their captain, the crewmen wondered not whether the woman would reappear, but whether her mate this time might prove to be a consort, or a king.

  Those aloft hauled sails about in accordance with the helmsman’s calls, but their heads bobbed like all the others’, turning time and again to glimpse the doorway to the master’s cabin. The empty bottles had been cleared away, the deck swabbed, and the spent torches pitched overboard to avoid displeasing the captain with any lack of discipline. No one wanted to be the first to try him, or test his intimidating first mate. Now they milled about, stacking and restacking cannonballs, cleaning weapons, eyeing the companionway and each other.

  Tom polished the bell on the quarterdeck, taking pleasure in the pungent scent of the paste, and dawdling because his position afforded a fine view of the master’s door. On Smee’s instruction, Nibs had lowered himself off the stern to patch that part of the hull that snagged Captain Hook’s coat yesterday. The task completed, he hauled himself up to hike over the rail and join his brother at his advantageous perch. Like Tom, Nibs’ features were tense, but Nibs retained a brooding scowl.

  Every so often, Liza’s head popped up from the hatch, and she surveyed the scene before she disappeared again to inform her father of the activities. She was pale today, recovering from some ailment or other, and limping. But she’d reported to the mistress as both her duty and her curiosity demanded, following the lady’s soft-spoken orders for hot water, the captain’s sea chest, and time. The girl was disappointed not to get another look at the man in the captain’s bunk, but seeing the steel in her mistress’ eye, she didn’t dare to cross her. Apparently Jill realized the girl had been punished for last night’s spying, and reserved further
castigation until routine aboard the Roger was reestablished.

  Smiling ominously, Mr. Yulunga had amused himself by teasing the girl about the loss of her pearls. Then he took a perverse pleasure in making her repeat her mime until he admitted he understood the order to fetch the captain’s sea chest. Having delivered it, the first mate loitered at the base of the companionway, leaning against the stair rail and picking his teeth with a splinter.

  Today he found himself ogling the girl with fresh interest. The new regimen seemed to pique her old curiosity about the men, and she demonstrated more pluck than she’d shown since Jill confined her for calling attention to herself. Smirking, Yulunga recognized that Liza, too, liked to stir things up. By now, the entire ship’s company knew of her spying, and speculation as to her impression of what she’d witnessed was rampant. Watching her movements, Yulunga also kept his eyes open for signs of the surgeon and the bo’sun, but neither had ascended to the deck as yet.

  Those who rose early had watched Hanover curiously when he turned up at breakfast. Evidently his appetite had increased since last night’s ordeal, for he dished up almost a double ration before ensconcing himself once again in his quarters. Mr. Smee, after issuing his orders to Nibs, disappeared into the carpenter’s shop, where he was grimly gathering tools and materials for repairs to the captain’s entryway. The last item he picked up caused the big man to hang his head and deal again with his heavy heart. It was the screwdriver he would need to execute the unspoken worst of the lady’s order. In the bo’sun’s fist, this simplest of implements would dismantle the last vestige of Captain James Hook’s power— an august brass plaque on a meaningless door.

  At last, just as Smee tramped up from the lower deck with his boards and carpenter’s box, Yulunga uncrossed his arms, shifting to look up the stairs. The murmurs of the company fell quiet. Smee stopped where he stood and followed everyone else’s gazes. Nibs nudged his brother, who looked up from his busywork. Tom draped the polishing cloth on the bell, Nibs tightened his kerchief, and they both bent over the quarterdeck rail, leaning forward to behold the new master as he appeared in his doorway. Everyone stared.