by Andrea Jones
With his chains clinking behind her back, Hook felt of his head, and grunted. When Liza sat up to pass the flagon, he raised up on one elbow, reaching for it greedily. Seeing him pull the cork with his teeth, she realized her mistake— of course he couldn’t use two hands. She should have opened it for him. She captured the cork and watched, disappointed but fascinated, as he gulped half the contents in one draught. She wouldn’t have much time.
She thrilled as he shifted his gaze to her, catching his breath. His voice continued harsh. “Why am I still alive?” As she shook her head, he scowled in impatience. With his next sentence, he answered her question— he did remember her voice!
“I grant you permission to speak.” His eyes narrowed. “Why hasn’t he killed me?”
Liza smiled. Her sound had pleased him! She opened her lips and breathed deeply. Some precious moments passed before she could manage to say one word.
“Master…”
“Answer the question!” More striking than ever, his features sharpened with anger.
“Because of me.”
“You?” Hook’s face relaxed. “Ah…the good doctor cannot kill in front of his daughter.” The surgeon’s dilemma seemed to please him.
“He has sworn the physician’s oath.”
Hook sneered. “Yes, his sacred word. Yet his conscience allows for his daughter to administer his potions.” He took another drink of it. “I’ve no time to waste. You will fetch me those keys. When I awaken tonight, you will have them ready.”
He was hazarding everything on this creature’s willingness. Feeling her touch his body as he returned to the world, he had known the surgeon wasn’t near. The lack of noise indicated no one who might be of aid was close, either. Hook had assumed the keys to his chains were with his captor, wherever he was, and the girl had confirmed that assumption. But she showed herself to be besotted with her ‘master.’ Surely she would do whatever he asked. Again, the quickest victory would suit Hook’s purpose. He didn’t care how he secured it.
“But—”
“I’ve no time to parley. What do you want in exchange?”
She who had been silent so long didn’t hesitate to express her desires. Her gray eyes burned like coals, and her low voice resonated. “Make me your mistress!”
Already, his eyelids felt heavy, yet he downed another draught of water. He’d imbibed not a drop since his capture. Hook had few choices, but he would choose the time to exercise those options he held. At this moment, his body needed fluid more than consciousness.
Liza itched to seize the flask, but by now it was too late. When he lowered it, his lips were wet. His hoarse voice whispered, “Keep me alive…”
Before she could stop him, he swallowed the last of the flagon’s contents. His hand went limp, relinquishing it. He fell back heavily onto the bed, his long black hair spread all around him. She tossed the flask aside and heaved herself on top of him, one hand on either side of his face to claim a kiss before his lips became inert. Liza licked the moisture from them. Then she stroked his hair again, gazing on his handsome face.
Liza felt herself smile. He still wanted her. All she had to do was care for him, as she would have done in any case. When he woke again, she would have food ready for him, and untainted water. The cabin would be dark, the ship quiet. Her father hadn’t slept much at all last night. He would be so exhausted by evening that he should sleep soundly. Liza would make sure of it.
She rose and felt for the cork. Clutching it and the flagon, she climbed down from her bunk, drew the bed curtain closed, and refilled the vessel from a jug of water she’d drawn in the galley. She left the flask on her father’s desk to indicate the need for more sleeping draught, then padded to her bureau. She rummaged until she found a petticoat, one made of flannel, and her sewing scissors. She tossed them into her bunk. Glancing at the door as she climbed, she estimated the time before her father might return. She should have a good chance to tear the petticoat into strips. Only the ripping must be finished before her father walked in. Later on, she could take her time threading the strips of flannel through the links. Her agile fingers could easily weave the material into the iron. Then the clanking would be muffled. After he retired to his bed, her father wouldn’t know Hook moved in the bunk above him, earning his freedom and enslaving a heart. Once her master had partaken of food and drink, he could take all night to do it, if he wanted. No one, not even her father, would be aware of what was happening as a bold little girl became this magnificent man’s woman.
For once, Liza relished the quiet. She had spoken to her master now. Sounds weren’t important anymore. She had looked her fill at him in this last night and day. Sight, like sound, would be secondary tonight. Only touch would be significant when he rallied— sensation. The feelings of thirsts being slaked and hungers satisfied. She knew what he wanted, and he knew of her desire. Both a man and a woman would awaken in the darkness of this evening. Liza’s pulse throbbed in anticipation. It would be a long, soundless night.
Rousing herself, she tended to the matter at hand, clipping cuts in the fabric of her petticoat. Taking it between her fists, she tore away strip after strip.
As from a great distance, Hook heard the scream of rending cloth. It puzzled him, but the sound was not enough to call him from the shadows, nor did he stir as the cold band of the jewel slid onto his finger. Vaguely, he heard a door open and click closed, and then his mind retreated where his senses couldn’t follow.
The medicine bag, much lighter than before, settled onto the desk with a thud.
“Liza.” Hanover’s clipped voice spoke in approval. He turned to blink at the girl sitting primly at the table with her sewing basket in front of her. “You persuaded him to drink it?”
Unable to restrain her smile, she nodded.
Flipping up the bed curtain, Hanover peered into the upper bunk to reassure himself. “That, at least, is a good thing. And I have made sure of our privacy. Now all we need is a miracle!” His coat lay folded over his arm. He held it out to Liza, and on the instant she hurried toward him to receive it.
“Stitch up the lining, Liza. I will prepare another draught, but next time he becomes conscious, I expect I will be forced to use the ether again. No matter. It will serve to keep him thirsty.”
Wondering how the coat had torn, Liza worked it with her fingers. As she felt the absence of the little stones, her eyes questioned her father.
“Never mind. I have a question for you. How did your mother’s pearl ring bring luck to Captain Cecco?”
Liza’s eyes widened.
“Well?”
She hung the coat over her arm. Miming a grip on invisible bars, Liza indicated her imprisonment. She kissed one of her hands, and at the same time made the motion of drawing off her ring.
Her father nodded. “And?”
She thought for a moment while the truth became clear to her. Plainly, she remembered the mistress’ indulgent tone as the woman realized Cecco had stolen Liza’s ring. The theft was just an excuse for the sailor to approach the mistress. Cecco had guessed Liza would ask for her ring, and he used it like a key to unlock the lady’s door!
Pleased to have driven the wedge between Hook and Jill before meeting either one of them, Liza managed to mask her smile. Instead, she spread her right hand flat and stroked it to signify Jill’s red hand. Then, bunching the fingers of her other hand as if to hold a ring, she deposited it in her palm. Kissing her hand again, she watched her father’s scar darken as comprehension dawned.
“So! The gypsy used us from the very beginning!” Angrily, Hanover stared past his daughter into the mirror. “That ring brought Captain Cecco very good fortune, indeed.” He untied the black ribbon, allowing his hair to fall loose. “Mr. Yulunga now has the pearls.”
Liza’s head snapped up.
“As far as I am concerned, he can keep them. In spite of Mr. Yulunga’s jibes, Captain Cecco is unlikely to share his luck with even his first mate.”
Hanover didn
’t understand, but his daughter did. She stepped back, staring at the floor. Mr. Yulunga possessed her pearls…and he would use them, just as Cecco had! But her father needn’t worry about the mistress; the African would pursue his luck in another quarter. Liza’s knees went weak as she wondered. Did the prohibition against touching Jill’s girl still apply? Did Cecco care if his men pursued her? Maybe a withdrawal of his guardianship was her punishment for intruding on the master’s quarters last night. The only man who had ever protected Liza now lay unconscious in her bed, and not one of his sailors knew he lived. No wonder Mr. Yulunga engaged her this morning! He was Cecco’s right-hand man. He would be first to act when Liza was fair game. Beyond a doubt, the offer of earrings was his initial advance. Again, the thought of the brutal African made her dizzy, and the room spun as she planted her feet more firmly on the boards. Hearing her father’s voice, Liza looked up in time to see him standing with his hair loosened, handing her the ribbon.
“Put this away. I will ready the flask.” He turned his back to open his valise.
Steadying herself, Liza obeyed, then crept behind her father to observe his movements. He removed the cork from the flagon and drew a vial of liquid from his bag. After measuring out a half teaspoon, he poured it deftly into the water, resealed the flask, and shook it. He didn’t look at her as he passed it along. “Put this flask where you can reach it.”
She nodded and, standing on the lower bunk to reach the upper, tucked it away. Liza turned as she stood, so that she could see where her father replaced the vial. Its amber fluid matched the one Jill secreted in the drawer under the master’s bed. With these observations, a sense of power flowed through Liza’s veins, as if she had drunk it from one of those bottles. New knowledge inspired it, and she smiled to herself. Like a dutiful daughter, she sat down in front of her work basket. As she rubbed the gray velvet against her cheek, she thought again how grateful she was to her mistress. Each of her father’s medicines was labeled, their dosages marked in his neat hand.
And now, Liza could read them.
Even if Hook forgot his promise upon achieving freedom, even if Captain Cecco gave the woman up to him, by using her father’s potions— and poisons— Liza would keep Jill from the master. And since the surgeon had been spurned, everyone would believe his jealousy was to blame. In one stroke, Liza would be rid of both her father and her mistress, and no one would suspect it the work of a clever ‘little girl.’ A daughter who, in matters of life and death, might emulate her sire. Watching her frowning father pace the room, Liza remembered to hide that smile she had stolen from Jill. The one that came to her lips so easily.
Right now, there was only one woman aboard the Roger. That was the way it would stay.
§ § §
Near sunset, the two men clattered up the steps of the companionway. They wanted to give plenty of notice of their coming. After the interruptions of last night, none of the company wished to surprise the captain and his lady again. When they arrived before the door, Tom laid a hand on Nibs’ shoulder to delay his knock. “Are you sure this is what you want, mate?”
“What I want has nothing to do with it. It’s what I have to do.”
“Then I’m in, too.”
“We’ll see what Jill has to say about that. We agreed.”
Tom’s usually cheery face was troubled, and he fingered his scar. “Aye, but it goes against the grain! We’re brothers.”
Nibs summoned the spirit of his old smile. “It’s like I told you before. We’ll always be that, no matter who we’re up against.” He and Tom clasped arms, then he faced the door, raised his fist, and struck.
After a moment’s pause, the voice of the new captain answered. “Enter.”
Nibs led the way in. “Sir; Lady.” He nodded his respects as Tom’s voice echoed his own.
“Tom, Nibs! Come in.” Jill stood near Captain Cecco, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling. Cecco was placing a leather pouch in his sea chest, which had taken up residence at the foot of the bunk. As the captain secured the lock, Nibs cast his gaze around the room until he found the other chest, the one belonging to Hook. Still padlocked, it now reposed in the corner with the bookcase. At the sight of it, Nibs’ face set in determination, the grim crease between his eyebrows deepening.
Tom was observing Jill. Although she smiled readily, he remembered her efforts earlier this afternoon, when she’d met with her sons to lay their concerns to rest. Jill had spoken encouragingly of the changes on the Roger and hopefully of Hook’s return. When, at that point, her tears caught up with her, she tried to banish them by relating incidents revealing Captain Cecco’s cleverness. Nibs and Tom were relieved he was kind to her, but the young men had exchanged glances as she continued to speak of her new lover. Jill’s arms glowed with his gold; less obvious to the lady herself was the extent to which their friend the Italian sailor engaged her affection. Difficult as it was to contemplate, her sons found comfort in the fact that Jill would not be alone if Hook failed to return.
But, as Nibs and Tom discussed after she left them, that comfort was offset by the consequences facing both Jill and Cecco…if and when Hook materialized. From what they knew of both men, the one certainty was that neither would give up his winnings. And the longer Hook was away, the more difficult it would be to recapture his supremacy— on the Roger, and maybe, in Jill’s heart.
Although Nibs doubted at the beginning, he agreed at last that Jill was following Hook’s orders. Loyal, no matter what. He now had an idea of doing the same. Tom felt his innards lurch as he watched Jill, the way he had felt in his first storm at sea. She wouldn’t be smiling by the time she’d heard Nibs’ decision. The moment would be difficult. But Jill respected truth, painful or otherwise, and Tom was sure Cecco did, too. It was better not to delay. Puffing out his chest, Tom spoke up. “Captain, Nibs and I have a request to make.”
“So you have come on business.” Eyeing the two sailors, Cecco indicated his desk. “Please.” As he settled into his chair, the captain took the initiative. “My lady informs me the three of you came to terms this afternoon. This pleases me.”
Nibs tightened the knot of his kerchief. “Yes, Sir. I apologize for busting in on you last night. I understand now. You have Jill’s confidence, and you’re the men’s choice for captain. I’m with you, Sir.”
“Thank you, Mr. Nibs. I accept your apology, and I bear no ill will. Because I have known the two of you since you were boys, I have often witnessed as you questioned and sought answers. In spite of a captain’s tendency to wish for instant obedience, I recognize these as traits that make good officers.”
Nibs suddenly believed Jill’s claim that Cecco was a wise leader. “Thank you, Sir.”
Hearing the new esteem in Nibs’ voice, the lady smiled. “I discussed your situation with Captain Cecco, Mr. Nibs. He is gracious enough to understand that you were motivated by duty.”
Cecco turned to Tom, questioning.
Tom said, “I’m with you, too, Sir. Like the lady, I want what’s best for the Roger.”
“Then we are all agreed.” The captain’s pleasant expression hardened then, and he sat back in his seat. “But I see by the look on the faces…there are more questions.”
Jill’s face clouded. “You don’t have bad news to report?” All at once she was afraid. She leaned forward, her hands clenching on the arms of her chair. This afternoon her sons promised to keep searching for Hook. Had they found evidence of an accident— or worse?
Nibs recognized the panic in her eyes. “No, Ma’am, it’s not what you’re thinking. But I’m afraid you won’t like what I have to say.” He shifted on his feet. “I’ve reconsidered LeCorbeau’s offer.”
“No!” Jill shot from her seat. “No, Nibs, you can’t!”
Cecco rose to stand behind her. Laying his hands on her shoulders, he spoke softly to her. “Lady. Do not upset yourself. Listen to what your son has to say.” With gentle pressure, he pushed her into her chair. As he seated himself, his ex
pression was unreadable. “I had wondered if this would be the case, Mr. Nibs. Go on.”
Finding the right words, respectful but final, was harder than Nibs anticipated. “Well, Sir, with Hook gone and all, I’m not bound to the Roger anymore. I got to thinking maybe I should try something new, see how things are done on another vessel…gather more experience.” A long silence followed, during which Nibs returned the intense regard of the captain and avoided looking at Jill. She had recovered, but she was staring at Nibs with a mixture of pride and dread. At last Cecco broke the stillness.
“Well. And Mr. Tootles. What have you to say?”
“Sir…Ma’am. I can’t stand to see Nibs go off alone. If you grant me leave and if LeCorbeau will take me on, I’ll go with him.”
Jill sat with perfect posture. “No. I won’t allow it.”
Cecco said, “Madam. I will make this judgment with your participation, and I will not decide in haste.”
“Captain, you know what kind of man LeCorbeau is! Look what he’s done to his officers. In front of everyone he shows them disrespect. They cringe at his displeasure, yet they lie for him, even procure for him. And if what we hear is true, he has a penchant for luring boys to his service. He gives them no choice, using them for his own amusement! He’s already made overtures to Nibs—”
Tom broke in, frowning. “We’re hardly boys anymore, Ma’am!”
“I am aware of that. But what chance will you have if that despicable man uses his stores of the surgeon’s philter?”
Glancing at each other, Tom and Nibs fidgeted. Nibs said, “We hoped you wouldn’t worry about that, Ma’am. We don’t even know that LeCorbeau has any of that potion.”
Cecco observed Nibs closely. “We have discussed the Frenchman in the past. You are aware of the reason he courted you.”