An Officer but No Gentleman

by M. Donice Byrd

  “I’ll probably have a few bruises from being held as they stole my clothing.” But she wasn’t going to admit to the worst part, how much they had scared her.

  “Do you expect me to change in front of you?” she asked.

  Rather than leave, Jaxon turned his back to her.

  Frowning, she did her best to dress without removing the sheet until she had his breeches on under the large panel of blue fabric and his shirt on over it. Only then did she drop the sheet. She tucked in her shirttail and shoved the long breeches into the top of her boots.

  “I look ridiculous.”

  He turned to face her. Ridiculous was not the word he would have used to describe Charlie. Delectable, maybe. The clothes swallowed her up. With one hand, she held up the breeches and the other she waved through the air trying to get the cuff around her wrist. There was something very alluring about seeing her dressed in his clothing. It was almost as if by being dressed in his clothing he was laying his claim to her. He wondered if his crew would make certain assumptions when they observed the intimacy of sharing his wardrobe.

  Jaxon could see what she was attempting to do one-handed. He stilled her arm and began neatly rolling up the sleeve. When he finished with the first arm, she switched that hand to hold up her breeches and held out the other one as well.

  He glanced around the cabin for something to use as a belt, but not finding anything, he removed his own belt. Quickly, he wrapped it around her, measuring her waist, and then took it to the desk where he used his penknife to cut another notch.

  It never occurred to him to hand the belt to her to put on. He just began sliding it through the loops. She flinched when he touched her belly.

  “I’m a little ticklish,” she said, never knowing herself to be ticklish before. She covered his hand with hers, staying them. “I can do that myself.”

  “Of course, you can,” he said pulling away, slightly embarrassed that he’d took such liberties.

  “Captain Bloodworthy.” She paused passing the belt through the loop. It was the first time she had said his name. She never knew someone’s name could sound intimidating. To her, his name seemed more formidable than his scarred, scowling face he implied scared men. But to call him Jaxon would be far too familiar without his permission. “Does everyone already know I’m not a man?”

  “I believe I was the last to know.”

  She tried to school her reaction. It was automatic. She had spent so many years trying to be tough that showing her emotions was not a natural thing. But deep down what she felt most was uncertainty tinged with fear.

  But she also felt an incredible sense of relief. She would not miss the constant lying. And that steadfast fear of being found out, she wasn’t going to miss that either.

  She met his gaze. “What now? Do you still want me to join your crew? I can’t sleep in the fo’c’sle.”

  “We still need your medical knowledge. This ship, this crew—we are privateers. Engaging the enemy is what we do. As long as the French and the English fire their cannons back at us, we will suffer injuries and losses.”

  Her mind fixated on the fact they fought against the English. Perhaps someday they would find her crewmates and Dr. Kirk. “Before I answer, I have one more question of you.” He raised an eyebrow. “Why did you take my uniform?”

  “First, let me say, if I had known you were a lady, I would never have ordered it.” He raked his hand through his hair and lied. “You were not entitled to wear an officer’s uniform on my ship. You may be the junior officer on a second-rate merchant ship, but we are not merchants. I needed you to understand the way of it.”

  She nodded in understanding. It had been her fault for insisting he kick one of his officers out of his cabin to give it to her. He must not have believed her lies at all.

  “You really were second mate of your ship? You weren’t his doxy wearing his uniform?”

  Charlie should have been mad he thought so, but she was proud of what she had accomplished. “Indeed I was.”

  “You were on this ship less than a day and we found out. How, if what you say is true, could you live day after day without anyone finding out?”

  “The ship’s captain was my father. He protected—the lie. I slept in his cabin until I was promoted to my own.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You know, if I stay to be your surgeon’s mate, you will have to make sure your crew knows I am under your protection. I don’t want to worry every shadow contains a man ready to jump out and do unspeakable things. I may have been exposed to many things land women are not, but I am not a ship’s whore and I won’t be treated that way.”

  “My men wouldn’t….” But even as he said it, he knew there were many men he could not vouch for. When he had received his Letter of Marque and Reprisal he had taken on many men he did not know.

  “Your crew are menfolk, are they not?” she asked. “Also, I insist on having accommodations with a lock and key.”

  “You will stay in my cabin—with me until I figure out other arrangements. I will afford you all the privacy you need. The key is always in the door. If I am ever ungentlemanly, you may lock me out as well. Then, we are agreed?”

  She met his eyes. What choice did she have? “We are.”

  Jaxon heard the bell ring out six bells. 7:00 PM. “It’s time for the memorial service on deck for my cousin. All hands.”

  In other words, she was expected to be there as well. “I’ll meet you on deck,” she said as he moved to the door. “I need a moment of privacy.”

  “I’ll wait out here. Until I make clear to the crew you are under my protection, I don’t want you to go anywhere alone.”

  As soon as Jaxon closed the door behind him, Charlie untucked her shirt and unwrapped the strip that bound her breasts. If everyone already knew she was a woman, she wasn’t going to bind herself. A soft moan escaped her lips as her nipples puckered to trumpet their freedom. She tucked her shirt back in and joined Jaxon in the passageway.

  As she fell into step behind Jaxon, Charlie was completely fixated on the motion of her breasts when she walked. She had no idea they were going to bounce. Perhaps if she changed her stride…. She quickly realized that short steps made them bounce more and longer strides seemed to make them sway rather than bounce. The feel of her nipples against the soft cotton fabric was intoxicating. Suddenly self-conscious, as she stepped into the daylight, Charlie announced, “I need to go back to your cabin.”

  Jaxon grabbed her wrist before she could retreat. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” she lied. Pulling her wrist free she crossed her arms across her chest.

  The corners of her mouth lifted. “Oh, I see. Take my shirtwaist,” he said shrugging out of his jacket then unbuttoning the vest below. “They are very nice, but like fine art, they need not be on display for the masses.” He handed her the shirtwaist and put his coat back on.

  Her face burned scarlet.

  The crew of The Dragon’s Lair gathered midship for the memorial service, Jaxon and Charlie stood shoulder to shoulder around the large circle as one man after another told stories about Jimmy. Some funny. Some sentimental.

  Charlie couldn’t help herself, she began to cry. It was the kind of service she would have liked to have for her father, perhaps she would have heard stories she’d never heard before.

  She listened to every word said about Jimmy and felt touched that he was so well loved and had died at such a young age.

  After wiping away her tears with her fingertips a few times, Jaxon pressed his handkerchief into her hand. Had she still been pretending to be a man she would have been fighting herself not to cry, but now she felt no shame in it. She used the handkerchief to dry her eyes until she felt the tears stop. She tried to pass it back to Jaxon, but instead of taking it, Jaxon’s big hand engulfed hers, holding her hand for the remainder of the service.

  Afterwards, the men lingered on deck. It was only a few minutes before the dinner bell would ring. During the service he
held her hand to comfort her, but she didn’t understand why he continued to hold it afterwards.

  She turned toward him. “What are you doing?” She gave his hand a little squeeze.

  “You told me to announce you’re under my protection,” he answered.

  Charlie’s shy smile drew his attention to her lips, they were pink and full. Suddenly, his mouth lowered to hers.

  If she had any expectation of what kissing Jaxon Bloodworthy would be like, she would have thought his kiss would have been crushing and rough. Instead, he gently pressed his lips to hers, coaxing her lips apart with his rhythmic motion. The moment his tongue touched hers, a wave of emotion flooded her being. Her breath caught and color stained her face.

  She had no awareness that every conversation stopped and every eye watched. Her heart beat so hard, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Nothing about kissing Morty had prepared her for this. Deep in her core, she felt a yearning she only vaguely understood. Pushing away from him, she raised a hand to her mouth.

  “Oh, my God,” she murmured, her eyes wide with surprise. “Oh, my God.”

  Suddenly, she felt like she had just entered a secret society—one she hadn’t known existed until that moment. She was confused. Charlie had been exposed to the baser aspects of sex, but she never knew a kiss could make her knees weak. Weren’t those the words Morty had used? That was exactly what she felt.

  She stretched towards him again.

  “No.” He stepped away from her, releasing her hand. “I’ve made my point. Any more would be superfluous.”

  Hurt flashed across her expression. She was embarrassed to her toes. He didn’t actually feel anything for her. He merely kissed her to tell the crew she was under his protection. What a better way to do it, than to make everyone think she was his woman. She should be grateful. No sailor would ever accost her if they thought their captain had claimed her as his, especially if their captain was as intimidating as Jaxon Bloodworthy.

  Charlie had not been aware of Daniel’s approach until he grabbed Jaxon’s arm. “Have a care for the girl’s reputation, brother,” he said in low menacing voice. “Her ruination could be yours as well.”

  “I did not know you had designs on her yourself,” Jaxon said flatly as he shook off Daniel’s hand.

  “I don’t,” Daniel said. “I only feel responsible for my part in her being here.”

  “She is not your responsibility.”

  The brothers stared at each other for a brief moment. Unspoken words passed between them. Jaxon’s mangled countenance bore no more emotion on the outside than if he had closed a door. But Daniel knew his brother well enough to know when he was troubled. Had it hurt Jaxon when Charlie pulled away and said, Oh, my God? He didn’t think the girl had been repulsed by his brother, but maybe that’s the way Jaxon had taken it. Daniel knew enough to know there was nothing he could say to help Jaxon. He would have to wade through what he was going through alone.

  Daniel turned to Charlie. “May I escort you to dinner?” He offered his arm.

  She spared a glance at Jaxon. When he did not offer to escort her himself, she accepted. “Thank you,” she said quietly, setting her hand on his arm the way she’d seen land-women do.

  Jaxon turned on his heel and stepped to the railing, unconsciously rubbing his gimpy leg. He couldn’t say why he did it. He just wanted to kiss her so he did. In his mind’s eye, he relived the kiss. He had pretended to be unaffected afterwards, but he was far from it. He hadn’t let her kiss him again because he was barely holding on to control himself. Another kiss like that and he was likely to take her right there where they stood.

  Jaxon looked out over the water. “‘Oh, my God,’ is right, baby,” he said under his breath. How was he going to protect her, when he was her biggest threat?

  10

  “He’s off brooding somewhere,” Daniel said to Charlie when he saw her glance at Jaxon’s untouched plate of food for the umpteenth time. “My brother carries the weight of the world on his shoulders whether he needs to or not.”

  “Was he like that as a child, too?”

  Charlie was fascinated by families and stories of people’s childhood. She never knew other children growing up, except for a cabin boy or two. And by the time she was old enough to relate to them, she became the cabin boy and there were no more until she was older.

  “Do you know the story of Esau and Jacob?” Daniel asked.

  “From the Bible?”

  Daniel nodded. “Jaxon is Jacob.”

  “He’s a twin? I’ve never met a twin before. Do they look alike?”

  “Exactly alike. Or they did before….” Daniel made a gesture toward his face.

  “Well a least the scars didn’t hurt his looks.”

  Daniel looked at her like she had lost her mind then he realized she meant it. She was as attracted to his brother as Jax was to her. It had taken Daniel a couple of years before he only saw his brother when he looked at him and not the scars. With Charlie that trait seemed inherent. Daniel knew the way women avoided Jaxon in social gatherings. He never knew how vapid the upper crust was about looks until then. It had been nearly impossible to watch as Jaxon tested the water of society after his injuries—to see one twin flourish while the other was ostracized. It was the first time Jaxon had not been able to outshine, Grayson.

  “If you’re finished I’ll see you to….” It occurred to Daniel he had no idea where Charlie would sleep.

  “The captain was going to have a hammock put in the corner of his cabin for me.”

  Talk about the fox guarding the hen. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “I think that shiner you’re wearing should tell you I can take care of myself. If it had not been three against one, you would not have bested me. Besides your brother is injured making him no threat at all.”

  He laughed, showing his dimples. “I believe you.” Daniel knew his brother well enough to know Jaxon would not take a woman against her will. But what if she were willing? He was truly torn. He loved his brother and would love to see him settled down with any woman, but Daniel felt responsible for Charlie being here and therefore she was his responsibility. He just wished he could get into Jaxon’s mind and make sure his intentions were honorable. He was still seething over the way Jax had kissed her on deck. If he treated he like a trollop in front of the men, how would he treat her behind closed doors? If only Charlie had slapped Jaxon after that kiss. He certainly deserved it.

  “Shall I take his meal to him?” she asked drawing Daniel out of his reverie. “He needs to eat if he’s going to heal properly.”

  “If tis your wish.”

  Jaxon sat at the large desk, his charts rolled out on it. The sextant rested on one side preventing the chart from rolling up. In one easy movement, Charlie replaced the sextant with the plate. Her father would have never set the sextant in place where it could be knocked off and damaged. It was too important. She placed it in its padded box and closed the hinged lid, securing it with the small clasp.

  “Here?” she asked spotting an opening on the bookshelf about the correct size.

  “Aye,” he said.

  She worked it into place behind the turned dowel which spanned the length of the shelf preventing the books from falling in rough seas.

  “Jaxon,” Daniel spoke from the doorway. “May I have a word with you?” He was glad to see the hammock installed in the corner with two folded blankets and a pillow on top.

  It took Jaxon a moment to realize Daniel wanted him to step outside. “Wait for me on deck,” he said to Daniel. “I’ll be there in a minute.” Jaxon waited for Daniel to leave before he addressed Charlie.

  “Will thirty minutes be long enough for you to take care of your needs before bed?” he asked. “There’s a nightshirt in my locker. I still have work I need to do before I can turn in so I hope the lamp won’t disturb you.”

  “I’m so tired I could sleep through a hurricane—on deck!”

  “Take the bunk.
I’ll take the hammock.”

  “Actually, I was looking forward to sleeping in the hammock.” Hammocks reminded her of her childhood. She had slept in one in the corner of her father’s cabin. When she was small, she used to pretend that the cradling sensation of the hammock was her parents cradling her in their arms. She could use that today.

  “Before you go, Captain, may I check your wound?”

  It seemed to annoy him, but he quickly pulled his shirttail from his pants and unbuttoned it.

  Gingerly, she touched the area with the back of her fingers. “It’s a little warm,” she said more to herself than him. She glanced up at his face realizing she’d said it aloud. “Nothing to worry about yet, even a scrape feels warm to the touch when it’s new. I’m going to press on your other side, so I can feel what normal feels like on you, then I’m going to press the area around the wound. I’m trying to make sure you’re not bleeding into your belly.”

  Her touch was tentative at first, but she took a deep breath and began pressing firmly on his good side. She could feel herself becoming flushed. She was supposed to remain objective, detached from her patient, but she was anything but. Rather than pick her hands up to move them to the other side, she wanted to drag her hands across his hard muscled belly. She wanted to know every plane, every scar—so many scars.

  She frowned. How had acquired so many scars?

  “I’m afraid this is going to be unpleasant,” she said as she pulled her hands away and moved them to his injury.

  “Just get it over with,” he ground out.

  She palpated the area quickly with the flats of her fingers. “I just wanted to apologize for what happened earlier,” she said trying to distract him.

  “Earlier?”

  “On deck when you kissed me and I tried to kiss you the second time. I am so embarrassed that I did that after everything you’ve done for me. Thank you for not letting me humiliate myself.”