Within A Captain's Power

by Lisa Olech

  “It is important he understand the charges levied against him.”

  Tupper shot a glare back toward James. “His brain works just fine. It’s his ears he’s got problems with.”

  “Just make sure he understands, and ask him if he’d like to make a statement at this time.”

  Tupper finished signing. Bump set his jaw and signed back. Tupper snorted. “He understands perfectly, and would like you to tell the king and his magistrate that they can kiss his pretty arse.”

  Grabbing the quill from James, the man called Bump signed his petition clearly and distinctly William B. Quinn in a large sweeping hand. Tupper watched with almost a bittersweet grin upon her face. When he finished, she traced under the man’s signature with a gentle fingertip.

  Bump tapped Tupper’s sleeve to regain her attention. His hands moved in the same quick manner. Tupper frowned, then nodded. “He’s concerned about the girl. He saw Samantha taken from the surgery draped in a sheet. Did she die from her wounds?”

  “She’s fine.” James added a few notes to William Quinn’s statement.

  A soft grumble filtered through the other prisoners. Tupper lowered her voice, “Then where is she?”

  “We couldn’t exactly have her bedded with the men, now could we?” He met Tupper’s frown with his own. “She’s not fit to join you.” Why was it all of a sudden difficult for him to tell Tupper that at this moment Samantha was in his bed? “I’ve made the necessary arrangements to keep her from harm while she recovers.”

  Tupper tipped her head in Bump’s direction. “Doesn’t answer his question.”

  James met the man’s stare before shifting his gaze back to Tupper. “She was brought to my quarters.”

  Chapter 15

  Tupper blinked in shock at James. “She’s where?” she hissed. The rumbling of the crew behind her grew louder.

  “At the time, I believed the safest place for her was in private quarters. How many of those do you believe there to be on a warship?”

  Tupper crossed her arms over her chest. She was having a hard time believing what she was hearing. “Have you told her you intend to hang her?”

  The muscle in James’s check pulsed. “Leave it to you to simplify the most complicated situation. No, but I will. She’s only just regained consciousness. When the time is right, I’ll break the news to her.” He went back to his work. “I’m personally supervising her care. It only made sense to put in her in my bed. I just left her, and she’s resting comfort—”

  “Your bed?” Tupper rubbed her ear. They say the hearing is the first thing to go when you get old. She couldn’t have heard him right.

  Bump tapped on her arm, asking her what the Englishman had said. It didn’t take a mind reader to know what was going on behind Bump’s concerned scowl. Tupper was one of the few people who could read his emotions like a book. Bump cared for Sam. He cared deeply. By the look in his eye, too deeply. When the hell had this happened? They spent a total of two minutes together. Dammit. This was all her fault. She had asked for Bump’s help; pushed them together. She couldn’t have guessed he’d fall for the girl. Not this damn quick.

  And now, hearing James, he’d given up his bed? Or was he joining her there? Hadn’t he said he’d known Sam before? He’d been angry…and vague. How well had they been acquainted? Had they been lovers? Bloody hell. Was Samantha Christian some kind of siren? A silkie in breeches? The woman had both these men rushing to care for her, making allowances, risking their lives and reputations for her. Wanting to rescue her, each in their own suit of shining armor.

  If it weren’t so futile, it would all be extremely chivalrous, but the truth of it all was neither Bump nor James could save Sam from the fate awaiting her.

  James glanced at Bump. “Assure him she’s being well cared for.”

  She relayed the message, mumbling. “I doubt knowing where she is receiving that care will assure him in the least.”

  Tupper returned to her cell after James was finished with Bump. The rest of the crew processed easily. None had anything to say in their defense. These men held little stock in living long, healthy lives. None had family or loved ones who would likely stand and weep over their bodies. Of course, like her, she’d wager they’d rather have met their end in battle. Seemed more honorable than being dipped in hot tar and hung in a gibbet.

  When James and his men left, one of the crew, Chester Allan, called over to her from their cell. “Capt’n? The men and me got a question burnin’ holes through us.”

  Tupper was tired. She’d stretched out on the floor and pulled her hat down over her eyes. “Can it wait?”

  Another man raised his voice. “It bloody well can’t.”

  She pushed the brim of her hat off her nose. A thread of unease circled up her spine. “Butler, is that you griping?”

  “Aye, ye lied te us.” He slammed a fist on the bars.

  Tupper got to her feet and looked toward the men’s cell. A small group had gathered at the front. “Yer sober. Ye don’t know what yer saying. Go sit down.”

  “I’m sober all right. Ain’t been so clear-headed in six months, but it’s got me hearin’ things pretty damn clear too. Things I ne’re thought te hear.”

  “Shut yer hole, Butler,” MacTavish grumbled. He sat with his eyes closed and his beefy arms folded over his chest. “Some of us be needin’ our beauty sleep.”

  “Don’t ye want te hear how she’s tricked us?” piped Allan.

  Tupper shook her head. “What are you babbling on about?”

  Butler pressed his face through the bars. “New lad ye dragged aboard in te middle of the night. He ain’t a he. Is he?”

  Blast. Tupper waved his suggestion away. “Are ye sure yer sober there, Butler? Sure be talkin’ like a watered sot.”

  He pointed toward the table where James had sat. “Just heard ye wit that fancy capt’n. I ain’t deef like Bump, ye know.”

  “I heard it, too,” Allan added, nodding like an albatross.

  “Explains why were sittin’ here waitin’ fer a noose.” Butler shook at the door. His voice raising. “Ye cursed us! Bitches be bad luck, and ye dragged one aboard under our noses te doom the whole stinkin’ lot of us.”

  Tupper yelled back, “I’m a bitch, ye great superstitious fool.”

  Allan kept nodding, spurring Butler on. “Maybe been pressing our luck this whole time trustin’ a woman te our fate, and one more of yer like pushed us off the edge.”

  “Luck or no, ain’t the point. Tupper lied to us.” Butler pointed an accusing finger through the bars at her. “Don’t be denyin’ it.” He turned back to the others. “All these years and this is how she plants a blade in our backs.”

  “I didn’t stab any of ye in the back,” Tupper countered. “The girl was in trouble. Be dead if she didn’t get away from Virginia.”

  Another man, Peters, stood up along with the others. “An’ now we all be dead, ‘cause of ‘er.”

  Tupper shook her head. She needed to defuse this before the lot of them turned on her. “The Lion was on our tail before Sam came aboard. She didn’t cause any of this.”

  MacTavish stood up, planting his hands on his hips and scowling at her. Friend or no, she’d deceived him too. His anger simmered below the surface. “Why didn’t ye put it te a vote?” The look on his face asked another question. Why didn’t ye trust me?

  “There wasn’t time. I made a decision. Right or wrong, it’s done. I didn’t want to hide it from you, but I feared for the girl.”

  Allan continued to stir up the waters. “Bump knew. Didn’t he? He was part of that there conversation.” He waggled a finger toward her.

  “You two ‘ave always been in thick as thieves,” Peters added.

  MacTavish shoved him. “We’re all thieves, ye dumb fuk.”

  “Can’t trust neither of ‘em,” Butler grumbled.

  Bump sat resting in the rear of the cell, eyes closed. He’d never had a problem defe
nding himself, but a band of angry men was a dangerous powder keg. If Tupper didn’t keep their anger directed at her, Bump could be in trouble. “Listen to me. Bump didn’t know anything ‘til we were well on our way. He figured it out on his own, but by then it was too late to turn back. He had nothing to do with any of it. It was me. Ye’ve a right to be sore at me. I take full responsibility for my actions. If we ever see ourselves back aboard the Night, ye can vote me off. I’ll split my share among the lot of ye as compensation.”

  Butler crossed his arms over his chest. “Like we’re e’er gonna see that day.”

  “Ye’re lucky you an’ her ain’t in here wit us. That’s all I’m sayin,’” puffed Allan.

  “Lass took a blade in te fight,” pointed out MacTavish. He’d turned away from Tupper, but still defended the girl. “Seems te me, she already gave her due.”

  “Not from where I’m standin,’” glared Butler.

  Chapter 16

  James crossed paths with Ducky on his way back to his quarters. He was anxious to check on Samantha. The laudanum should have kept her sleeping, but his business in the brig had taken longer than he anticipated.

  “Processing go well?” Ducky fell into step with James.

  “Too bloody long.” James repositioned the parchments and logs he carried under his arm. “I know more about the lot of them now than I ever wanted—or needed—to know. One of them told me the reason he became a pirate was to get away from his nagging wife. Another had a name longer than my arm.”

  “And the lovely Captain Quinn? Did ye learn anything new about her?”

  “Only that she can speak to the deaf and is determined to die.”

  Ducky struggled to keep pace. “What has you in such a rush?”

  James could dodge Ducky. Make some excuse, but in that instant he couldn’t think of a plausible one. Better to come clean. He stopped short and turned to his startled friend. “There’s something I need to confess, and I need your utmost discretion.”

  Ducky’s eyes widened. “Should I be calling for the priest?”

  James righted the shifting parchments and moved past. “I’d hoped you could behave seriously for once.”

  “James, old man, what is it? I realize having Captain Quinn turn out to be—”

  Juggling his armload, James freed a hand to wipe at the sweat rolling into his eyes. “It’s not about Captain Quinn.”

  “Everything appears right with our crew?”

  “The crew is more efficient than even I’d hoped. I doubt if they’d miss me if I fell overboard.” He began walking toward his quarters and stopped again. “Perhaps tossing myself over the rail wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

  Ducky grabbed at his arm. “Tell me your confidence, for goodness’ sakes.”

  “It might be best to show you.”

  James beat Ducky to his quarters by several strides. He fiddled with the key to his door.

  “Since when do you lock your door?” Ducky panted. He scooped the items out of James’s arms.

  “Since now.” James looked over Ducky’s shoulder to make sure they were alone. He released the lock and pushed into his quarters. “Dear God!”

  Samantha was on the floor, tangled in a bloody blanket. He rushed to her. The stitches holding her wound had torn, explaining the blood, but how had she gotten on the floor?

  “What in the hell? Who—”

  “Get Stitch Taylor. Now.” He disentangled her from the ruined blanket. Heat radiated from her. She was limp in his arms. “She’s burning up with fever.”

  “She? But who?”

  “Get him now!”

  Ducky scrambled out, slamming the door behind him. James lifted Samantha back into his bed. Her blood stained his uniform. He rushed to gather water and drying cloths, threw them into a basin, and doused them in water from the pitcher on his washstand. After wringing the water from them, he laid cooling towels along her skin.

  The shock of the chilled clothes brought her around with a start. She began thrashing wildly, flailing against him and shoving at his chest.

  “Samantha, lie still, please…”

  “Stop.” she screamed. “Get your hands off me.”

  “You have a fever. I have to cool you down.”

  She scratched at his arm. “You rutting bastard, get off me!”

  “I won’t hurt you, I swear.” James struggled to hold her down. “The doctor is coming.”

  Samantha’s screeches withered to tearful pleas. “You have no right… Please, not again… I’ll mind my tongue…” She crossed her arms over her face in protection. “Please, stop…please…”

  Bloody hell, she thinks I’m Wessler. “Samantha, it’s me, James. No one is going to hurt you. I swear.” He gently eased her arms away from her face. “You’re safe. Darling, can you understand me?”

  Her head dropped back. Her body went limp once more. “Oh dear God… Samantha? Open your eyes. Can you hear me? Answer me, please.” He shot a panicked glance toward the door. “Where the hell is the doctor?”

  James continued to bathe her burning skin, laying cooling clothes over her forehead and along her neck. He could feel the beating of her heart beneath his fingertips and prayed it kept beating.

  Stitch was at James’s side before he realized they had returned.

  “Shit.” He used his thumb to raise one of Sam’s eyelids. “This is what I was afraid of.” Stitch fingered the weeping wound at her side. “How did she tear her sutures?”

  “She must have fallen out of bed. I found her on the floor.”

  “I thought you were tending her?” He pressed a cloth to her wound.

  “She woke. I gave her laudanum. She was resting well, and I assumed she’d be asleep for hours. I had business I needed to attend.”

  “Get him out of here, and take yourself with him.” Stitch jerked a chin toward Ducky.

  “Will she recover?”

  “Doubt it.” He bent over Samantha, placing his ear to her chest. “Go on. Give me room to work.”

  Ducky didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed at the back of James’s coat and tugged him toward the door.

  As soon as it closed behind them, Ducky spun on him. “Who the hell was that woman?”

  James started to cover his face with his hands before realizing they were covered in Samantha’s blood. I have her blood on my hands. How fitting.

  Ducky pulled a fine linen square from his pocket and pushed it into James’s hands. “Answer me, damn it.”

  “I’m sorry. This was what I needed to tell you earlier. Don’t you recognize her?”

  “Recognize her?” He looked at James as if he’d gone mad. Perhaps he had. His head pounded. Is this what madness felt like?

  Ducky grabbed his lapels and shook him. “James. Who is the woman in your bed?”

  “Samantha Christian.”

  “That’s impossible. How—?”

  “I know it sounds like insanity, but I swear to you it’s the truth. She was on the Scarlet Night, passing as a cabin boy.”

  Ducky pointed toward the closed door. “And why is she naked in your bed?”

  James rubbed at his forehead. “Please tell me you noticed the gaping wound at her hip, or did the sight of bared breasts render you senseless? The woman is busy dying. Where else would you like me to put her?” James looked back at the door. He should be with her.

  “There was no report of another woman.”

  “Stitch and I wanted to keep word of it to ourselves. Needless to say, he noticed she wasn’t a he. No need having the men informed. Superstitions still run high. It’s bad enough to have Tupper Quinn aboard. My only thought was keeping her away from the men. I hadn’t thought beyond that. Then I saw her face.”

  “However did you recognize her? She looks nothing like I remember.”

  “You remember little from the ball beyond the pleasures of Justine Whatever-her-name’s overflowing bodice.” James dropped his head back against
the doorframe. “I danced with Samantha, spoke with her.” Kissed her in the shadows. He stared at the ceiling. If asked, he could describe which shade of brown matched her lovely eyes. “She was rather unforgettable.”

  Ducky stood alongside him and mimicked his stance. “Bloody hell, James, could the capturing of the Scarlet Night be any more of a bane to your existence?”

  James closed his eyes. “She could have been carrying plague.”

  “Ever the optimist.”

  He shook his head and opened his eyes, giving Ducky a guilty glance. “I have another confession.”

  Ducky shot a worried glare toward him. “Pray, tell me it has nothing to do with Samantha Christian.”

  “When I saw her, I swear my heart tried to leap out of my chest.”

  Ducky nodded in sympathy. “In panic.”

  “No. Joy.” James stepped away from the doorframe and faced him. A frown knitted his brows together. “I spent mere moments with her, less than an hour, and yet, I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind since.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw. “I’ve never experienced anything remotely similar when I see Lillian.” James groaned. “Even speaking her name now fills me with shame. She should be with a man who feels joy when he sees her.”

  “Whoa.” Ducky held his hands up in surrender. “You can’t be thinking of passing over Lillian for some woman you barely know who is currently bleeding all over your quarters. Are you daft? You’re forgetting several important points. Several hundreds of thousands of points.”

  “I’m not marrying Lillian for her fortune.”

  “It isn’t for her warmth and passionate nature,” Ducky muttered. Before James could defend her, he added, “And what about the small matter of Samantha Christian’s warrant for piracy?”

  “She’s innocent.” James stared back at the door, willing it to open and for Stitch to tell him she’d live.

  “So she didn’t sign on to the Scarlet Night crew?”

  James shrugged. “She did, but there are circumstances—”