Under Her Brass Corset

by Brenda Williamson

  “Jasper.” She stepped forward and gingerly stroked his sweat-dampened sleeve.

  He lifted her face with a finger under her chin. “You can tell me anything, Abigail, any problem. I promise to make it right for you.”

  How proud the devil, she thought, to make a man equally as vexing as he was appeasing.

  “I’ll be at Quito’s when you return,” she finally answered, and then walked away, rejoining Adam.

  “He seemed upset with you,” Adam said. “Should I have come forward and intervened?”

  She watched Jasper head down the beach with a group of men she assumed were working on fixing the Illusion. He hadn’t gone far when he glanced back. Regret seemed apparent in his eyes.

  “That’s very sweet, but no. I can handle Captain Blackthorn.” She slipped her hand around Adam’s arm to show Jasper all was well with her. “I saw a man over there that looked like he might be giving someone a tattoo. Do you think we might go see?” she asked.

  “Lead the way.”

  She took him to the small grouping of people. There she watched the villager pricking a man’s skin with a fine reed. The use of a plant instead of a needle fascinated her. The intricate design he pierced into his patron’s flesh was perfect.

  “What does he charge to do that?” Abigail asked Adam.

  “A chicken, a trinket, anything that interests him, I suppose.”

  She looked down at her attire. “I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s not like I have anything of value on me.”

  “You want a tattoo?”

  “Are you shocked?” She smacked her arm, squishing a bug.

  “Yes,” he said simply, wiping the bug remains from her skin with a handkerchief.

  “I’ll have you know I already have one on my thigh. It’s of a rose vine with a single bud representing my memory of my mother. I’d like to get another bud added for my father.”

  “If that is your wish, I’d be glad to pay the cost.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Before she could say more, Adam walked over and spoke to the artist.

  The man who had been getting inked rose from the stool and walked away.

  “I’ve arranged for you to have your tattoo done right now,” Adam informed her.

  “Oh, but he wasn’t finished.”

  “He’s his brother and he can work on his design anytime. Now are you going to have that rosebud added or have you changed your mind?”

  Abigail shook her head and hurried to the stool. She pulled her skirt up, tugged the legging of her knickers and explained to the man what she wanted. His English wasn’t very good and Adam translated. He assured her the man understood he was to give her an identical rosebud opposite of the one she already had. Everyone in the vicinity crowded around. From the corner of her eye, she saw Adam turn away. Her heart skipped a beat. A respectful man was desirable to most women.

  “Mr. Sutterby, if the whole village can watch, I see no reason for you not to look as well. After all, you are the one paying the bill.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were from another era, Miss Thatch.” Adam spun around and gave her a big grin.

  “And what era would that be?” She batted her lashes, feeling happy enough to be flirtatious.

  “Whatever time period where a woman felt confident in doing as she pleased.”

  “I think that would be today, don’t you, Mr. Sutterby?” She smiled up at him and noticed the colorful birds in the trees.

  “So it does, Miss Thatch.” He laughed.

  Every bit as likable as Jasper, Adam charmed her into feeding her curiosity and she asked, “How did you and Jasper meet?”

  “I don’t think you’d like the story so much.”

  “Oh, why not?” She cringed at the first jab of the reed piercing her skin.

  “It has to do with a subject that upsets you,” he replied.

  She felt a genuine warmth and understanding in his tone. “Your immortality?”

  “Yes.”

  “I need a distraction, so tell me your tale anyway,” she said, looking around at the villagers. “Unless you have some immortal’s code that prevents you from divulging too much in front of so many.”

  Adam stooped down next to her and whispered in her ear, “There is such a code.” He then leaned away and laughed. “But I don’t think there’s a problem since no one here speaks much English.”

  “No one?”

  “None of the natives to the region.”

  “Tye speaks English.”

  “Yes, and she was taught by Quito so that she’d be able to talk to his friends.”

  “And you don’t think maybe she’s taught someone else?”

  “No one here would have a need to know another language. Besides, I think Tye spends most of her time in Quito’s company.”

  “And what of this code?” she persisted. “You’re not going to break an oath of silence just because I asked.”

  “I’m not breaking anything. Obviously, Jasp has already spilled the beans.” He pulled up another stool and rested forward on his arms on his legs.

  “Not all of them. How did you two meet, honestly?”

  “We met on a ship. I was his first contact, the first immortal to meet him after his rebirth from drinking the water from one of the springs of Avalon. It fell upon me to give him guidance and initiate him into the Brotherhood.”

  She didn’t want to encourage his lies, but she had started it. “What is the Brotherhood?”

  “A secret club for immortals.”

  In too deep to back out of the topic altogether, she continued, figuring that maybe he’d slip up in the details. “How do you recognize one another?”

  “It’s accidental until the initiation. Afterward we get tattoos on our wrists.” He held his arm up and showed her a Celtic knot.

  She leaned closer and stared at the design. “It looks just like Jasper’s.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  “Do you have another tattoo above it? A crest?”

  “I do.” He pushed his sleeve higher, exposing the outlined shield containing entwined dragons on a cross.

  “This looks familiar.”

  “I don’t see how. My family line is old, but I was the last male.”

  “I know I’ve seen this one before.”

  “Where?”

  “Probably in the museum where I worked. Were your family…Are you royalty, Mr. Sutterby? Though I’m fairly well-schooled in the lineages of England, I don’t recall any Sutterbys.”

  “There aren’t any Sutterbys anymore, and I’d be quite surprised if I were remotely close to being an aristocrat.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “I’m as peasant as a boy can get on a farm.”

  “Your manners say much more.”

  On the walk back around the island to Quito’s hut, Abigail thought about Adam’s statement. It almost sounded as if she was right—Adam was an aristocrat. Maybe a black sheep, a son who had disgraced the family name. However, Sutterby wasn’t a name she remembered from her studies. Then there was the obvious conclusion—she had read too much into his tone. It was possible he wasn’t from a noble house. That he lost all his family from an epidemic, and he was made angry by the painful subject. That was an experience she could empathize with in the fullest.

  When they got to Quito’s hut, she saw Jasper standing under the thatched awning over the door. His dark hair fluttered in the breeze, getting in his eyes. Several times he ran his fingers through the strands in attempts to tame it. He didn’t look happy. She knew it was because she’d gone off with Mr. Sutterby. Not because of a falling-out they may or may not have had, but because he wasn’t in control of her decisions.

  “The Illusion will be ready in a few hours. We can go back on board and wait there,” he told her.

  “Would it be too much to ask to join you, Jasp? Get passage to anywhere with a harbor where I might buy a new ship?” Adam asked.

  “Yes—No.” She and Jasper answered at the
same time.

  “No,” Jasper repeated.

  “Be reasonable, man. It’s not like I’m a threat to you or Abigail,” Adam argued.

  “She’s Miss Thatch to you,” Jasper growled.

  Abigail liked his protectiveness, but she wasn’t going let him think he had full control over her.

  “I don’t think he’s asking so much, Captain Blackthorn,” she said. “We’re headed for North Carolina and I’m sure they have harbors there.”

  “No,” he replied, giving her a glaring hard look. “He-can-find-another-way.”

  “If he doesn’t go, then-I-shan’t-go-either.” She enunciated each word just as clearly and determinedly as he had.

  “Fine,” he grumbled and went in the hut.

  Abigail stood confused. Had he agreed she’d stay or agreed Adam could go? She glanced at Adam, seeking an answer from him. He shrugged, looking just as unsure about the one-word verdict. It worried her she had made a big mistake. Jasper could have tricked her into giving him an ultimatum. What better way to get rid of her than to let her do the suggesting?

  A minute later, Jasper emerged from the hut with the satchel slung over his shoulder. He shook Quito’s hand. “Until next time around, mi amigo,” he said in farewell.

  Abigail wrung her hands. She’d not back down, but she had to seek clarification. “When you said fine, did that mean you agree Adam can go with us?”

  “No.” He stopped in front of her.

  She swallowed hard to clear room for her next question to come out. “Then you’re leaving me here?”

  Jasper stared at her for what seemed the longest time. If he said yes, she’d have to give in. He had all the power. She’d never find her treasure without him.

  “No,” he answered roughly. “I’m not leaving you. So if it takes him coming, then fine, you can have your way.”

  She suppressed a smile and accepted Jasper’s hold on her arm. She glanced back and motioned with a backhanded wave for Adam to come along. He flicked a wave back and mouthed he’d be along shortly.

  Jasper towed her along, displaying that overbearing maleness she both liked and disliked. This time she’d let him have his way—let him drag her along as if he were a Neanderthal staking claim to his property. She had won. The why disturbed her. No man let a treasure slip through his fingers. She’d not let Jasper’s surrendering to her wishes trick her into a false sense of security.

  Jasper found it hard to stay angry with Abigail. Since she insisted they swim to the ship and leave the longboat for Adam, his admiration for her grew. Her thoughtfulness exceeded expectations, even though it was misguided.

  At the ship, he tried helping her up the ladder. They had left the satchel with their outer clothes in the longboat. The Compass he carried tied in his shirt around his waist. As for undergarments, Abigail’s clung wetly to her like a second layer of skin. The ivory pink flesh of her bottom plastered with transparent fabric drew his hand.

  “Stop that.” She kicked at him, knocking him away.

  “I’m just offering assistance.” He put his hand on her back.

  At the top, she swung a leg over the side. He stared at her other limb as she sat straddling the rail. He moved higher, closer to touching her. Before his fingers connected to her foot, she lifted her leg away.

  He scrambled up and over to join her on the deck. While removing his knotted-up shirt with the compass inside, he moved closer.

  “You’ve been a bit testy since we came here. Why?” he asked.

  Her hesitation suggested she wasn’t going to answer him, then she asked, “Just how well do you know Tye?”

  “Is this jealousy?” He gripped her chin with his forefinger and thumb.

  “No, I was…I didn’t know if I should feel sorry for her.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “You hardly said a word to her the whole time we were there.”

  “And you should pity her, for what? Not having the pleasure of my witty charm?”

  “Well, I thought if you knew her well it meant she was…had been a…”

  “No.” He suddenly realized where the conversation was going.

  “No?”

  “I have never been intimate with Tye. She has been Juan’s companion for decades.”

  “He’s a bit old for her.”

  Jasper laughed and immediately saw his error in mocking her. “I’m old for you too, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting you here and now.” He held the Compass in one hand and placed his hand on her hip.

  “You can have me again. But only after you take me to the treasure.” She turned from him and stumbled on the first step.

  “You need sea legs,” he joked, patting the outside of her thigh.

  She groaned as if in pain and put a hand to her leg. He watched her limp several feet from him.

  “Abigail, are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine.” She snatched up her brass corset from where it sat left on a crate. Then she headed to the steps going below.

  She seemed to move gingerly into the passageway. The seriousness in her tone kept him from advancing. Something appeared wrong physically and something seemed different about her personality. Ever since they had gotten to Juan’s hut, she didn’t talk much, almost as if she were angry with him. He tried thinking over what was said, what he might have done to upset her. He considered that maybe Juan had said something to upset her, but that didn’t explain her attitude before they reached the man. He wondered if it were Adam, yet Abigail had invited him along on their trip. So whatever her problem was, it centered on him, no one else.

  Women. He heaved a long breath and shook his head not knowing what craziness went on in their minds. Then a thought occurred to him as to one reason a woman grew ill-tempered so suddenly—her menstrual cycle.

  Jasper went below and knocked lightly on his cabin door. He opened it cautiously and peered inside. Not seeing her, he went back up to the storage room.

  “Abigail,” he called, tapping lightly on the wood door.

  “I’m getting dressed,” she answered.

  “I just wanted to tell you…If you should need…” He usually didn’t have trouble saying what he needed to, but the delicacy of a woman’s time of the month wasn’t a normal topic for him. “You can use anything at all you want for rags.”

  He left it at that and hurried back up top.

  “Permission to come aboard?” Adam yelled.

  Jasper looked over the side and saw the longboat in place for raising. He turned the steam handle and watched the boom swing out and the hoists lower. Normally he’d manually lock the hook into place, but since Adam was in the boat, he let the other man position the clevises.

  “All set, Captain.” Adam hollered the go-ahead.

  Jasper flipped the lever and let the mechanical winch bring his longboat and his unwelcome passenger on board.

  “Thanks for letting me come along. Who knows how long I’d have to wait on Quito’s island for a ship to come along.”

  “Just stay out of my way. He turned off the steam and latched the boat securely in the storage position. “The less I see of you the better.”

  “Fine by me. I can find something to occupy my time in a quiet corner of the ship.”

  Jasper turned around. “As long as it doesn’t involve Abigail. You stay away from her.”

  “Something tells me Miss Thatch does as she pleases. And since I’m on board because of her, I imagine you’re not in charge of much, except catering to her wishes.”

  “Don’t mistake any of my actions to accommodate Abby as a weakness. She’s Blackbeard’s granddaughter and I’ve vowed to protect her. That includes anything that she might inadvertently do that could upset her or bring harm to her. Past experience already has me doubtful in regards to any involvement she has with you.”

  “Isabel didn’t want to be immortal, Jasp. And the baby, have you even thought about what would happen with the baby? Your child would never have aged.”

  “You don’t k
now that. If she had lived maybe the baby would have been mortal.” In his dreams it had been so, but logic told him differently. After a few years of watching Abigail grow up, he had let go of most of his sorrow for a child he’d never know. He resigned himself to the fact that Isabel would never have been happy as an immortal. All his anger was a result of his loneliness, and since he needed to place blame, he had used Adam as an outlet first for grief and then for failure.

  Adam’s attention went past him. Jasper glanced over at Abigail returning to the main deck. She wore something new under the brass corset. A light green linen dress with a low-cut bodice showed off the top swells of her breasts. At the center, the cameo he had seen before drew his gaze to her cleavage. She had her hair swept up in a bundle at the back of her head so the stiff collar of the dress appeared as if it cradled her head. Small, wet curls dripped from her temples, softening the tense expression in her face. He didn’t intend to ask if she suffered cramps.

  “She’s marked a lot of territory on your heart, Jasp. Anyone can tell that by the way you look at her.”

  Adam was one hundred percent right. In all his years after he’d given the water of Avalon to Blackbeard, he had lived a peaceful life. He’d invented devices to make his life simpler, less dependent on others. While he sought the solace of a woman’s favors, he never had a complete need of them. Abigail was different. She made him want something he had never had, something he didn’t know if he deserved, something he couldn’t fathom obtaining. How did he invite her completely into his life knowing he’d suffer forever after she died?

  Like an angel on a cloud, Abigail floated toward them. Jasper watched for signs of any interest she might have in Adam. He saw nothing as her gaze remained locked with his.

  “Are the repairs finished?” she asked.

  “Almost. The men left just after Adam arrived. I was giving the sap longer to dry before putting to sea.”

  “Mr. Sutterby, it’s nice to have you aboard.” She glanced over at him and then looked back to Jasper.

  He searched her face for more discomfort, but saw nothing detectable.