by Andrea Jones
Hook was solicitous of his mistress. “A successful evening, but tiring for you. I suggest you rest, my love.”
“And you, Hook.”
“You must be aware by now that I am incapable of rest until you sleep.”
“And you never knew what kept you awake, did you, until you found me?”
“My storyteller must be dreaming before I can close my eyes. And then she dreams more life into me.”
Jill smiled to think of the power she held. “I will be kind, always, and ensure that you sleep. When it suits me.” She stroked the neat whiskers of his beard. “But sometimes I like to be kept awake.”
He laughed. “As I well know!” He trapped her fingers and kissed them. “And how did you enjoy our little dinner party?”
“You are a magnificent host, Hook! I believe our surgeon has already begun to recognize the benefits of employment in your service.”
“And your service. You have the man at your feet. Rigid as he seems, you bent his will tonight, more than once.”
“The doctor’s attitude is certainly ambivalent. He seems both attracted and repulsed by me.”
“I might point out your similar reaction to the doctor.” As her eyes slid toward him, he half-smiled at her. “And I might not.”
She matched him. “You must do as you see fit, of course.” Unruffled, she went on. “He never once touched my right hand, even as we danced.”
“I cannot fault him for that. It is much more pleasant for a man to slip an arm around your waist.”
“It is much more pleasant for me as well.…Did you notice how he keeps his affection for his daughter at bay? I believe he regards her more as a possession than family.”
“Yes. I had assumed the girl’s situation would grant us a secure hold on him. But I have now more accurately identified his weakness.”
Jill pondered Hook’s meaning, wanting to be sure she understood him. She remembered how possessively the surgeon’s arms had held her, the strength of his grip belying his reserve. She recalled the intensity behind his gray eyes from the moment he first addressed her. Clearly, Jill had tapped a vein of passion under the man’s controlled façade.
Now she smiled. “Hook. You mean me.”
“I mean you.”
“And your new plan is to use me to bind him?”
“I have already done so.”
Jill’s smile faded as she considered Hook, alarmed at first, and then her expression grew shrewd. As was her habit when discussing business, she addressed the captain formally. “Sir. Exactly how far do you wish me to take this game?”
“You must not engage in it at all— unless you play to win.”
“A challenge, then?”
His eyes gleamed. “A gamble, with fabulous stakes.”
“You know how such stakes tempt me.”
“I am well aware, Madam, of your weakness. And your strength. I’d like to have observed the doctor’s reunion with the very unusual contents of his medicine bag. My guess is it was much more tender than the reunion with his daughter.”
“Different men value different treasure. And we’ll have it from him.”
“We have it now, but patience, Jill, will yield us more. If he can be persuaded to join us, all to the good. If not, we can at least discover the source of his mysterious cache. You will find a way.”
“A way to win the game. But I don’t accept him or his medicine at face value. Proper as he appears, my instinct tells me he is not entirely a gentleman.”
“All the more reason to play.”
Jill hesitated. “And…if he isn’t a gentleman?”
“All the more reason to prevail.”
She studied him, her head at an angle. “You are a fascinating man.”
Hook raised an eyebrow. “Are you playing with me, now?”
“Mr. Smee thinks so. He doesn’t quite trust you to me. Perhaps I’m only wanting your treasure, after all.”
“But I trust you implicitly. I know for a fact you are after my treasure.” He laced his fingers through her own. “I know you. You are my soul. But you understand, do you not, why I feign to esteem you so lightly before strangers?”
“Yes, Hook. You are protecting me— protecting us. Our adversaries mustn’t discover that you and I are two sides of the same coin.”
“No. Never expose our vulnerabilities. But we cannot be torn apart. And so, whatever game you play, you will do what you must, and always come back to me.”
“And you will come back to me.”
“No matter where I go.”
“But there is nowhere I wouldn’t follow you.”
Immediately, Jill knew she had said the wrong thing. Hook glared at her, then sat up abruptly. He pulled her along with him, roughly, and seized her face between his hand and his broken wrist. Her eyelids fluttered in surprise. He controlled his emotion, but his voice conveyed his urgency.
“Listen to me.”
She stared, unaccustomed to this rude handling. His piercing eyes transfixed her.
“When I go into danger, you must not follow.” He shook his head. “As your lover I deplore it. As your captain, I forbid it!” His gaze raked her face, and fell to the scar at her throat. “You needn’t prove your courage again.” Savagely, he kissed the crimson line.
Jill tilted back her head. “Hook…” The ferocity of his embrace overwhelmed her. She plunged her fingers into his hair and drew him closer. “Captain.” Caught up in his fervor, she felt the grip of a sudden dread, and she had to know. “What, then, would you have me do?”
Hook pulled back and shook his hair from her grasp. He was her commander now, at his most imposing. “You must do as I would do. Your duty is to preserve yourself, and preserve our ship, at all costs. If any undertaking calls me from you, the Roger is in your charge. While I am alive, you will feel it, and know that I will find a way to return to you here.”
“But what of the men? Would they follow me?”
“You are my queen. As long as you conduct yourself as such, they will respect you. And you may always rely on Smee. He may not completely trust you, but he knows my orders. He will obey.”
Jill was stabbed with cold. The ship pitched in the darkness, and the hook tapped sharply against the wood of the wall. Yet Jill’s grip on his arms remained firm. “Hook. I don’t want to be a queen without a king.”
Unyielding, he said, “You will do what you must. With or without me.” And then, more gently, “As you always have done. That is my order.”
She closed her eyes, relieved to feel the burden of responsibility lifted by the captain’s command. She couldn’t guess how it might affect her, but the decision was made. “Aye, Sir.”
Softening, he gathered her into his arms again, and, slowly, the cold receded from her heart. She opened her palm and gazed at it; he covered it with his own. Neither of them had forgotten who she was. Red-Handed Jill.
Her voice was steady. “What must I do now?”
Hook smiled, although she didn’t see it. But she felt his body changing. Rest, apparently, would have to wait.
“You must do your duty. To your captain.”
“Sir…”
“Madam. First answer the question I put to you before the doctor. What would you have me do with you?”
Her answer rushed out, passionate, “Take me home, of course!”
“I have already done so.”
She looked down. Impatient now, she asked, “And have you any further unnecessary questions this evening?”
“Only one. You have won my love. But to what lengths will you go to secure my treasure?”
“Hook—”
“Jill.” He pressed a finger to her lips. Once again, he made his orders clear. “Don’t answer. Simply demonstrate.”
She bit his finger first.
Chapter 5
A Company of Gentlemen
Disregarding Jill’s order to delay, Liza rapped early on the captain’s door. She waited a moment, then Jill’s voice answered, c
lear as morning bells.
“Come, Liza.”
The girl entered, closing the door behind her without a sound. She kept her eyes lowered only until she dropped a curtsy, then raised an eager gaze to the bed.
The cabin was lit with morning sun where one bedside curtain hung open. The fabric stirred, as the sea with its invisible hand rocked the room. The aft and starboard draperies were drawn, and Liza in her brown dress stood like a shadow in semi-darkness.
Her gamble was rewarded. Jill didn’t appear angry to be awakened. Better yet, Liza filled her eyes with the sight of her captain, just leaning on his elbows to force himself up against the pillows. She liked what she could see of him. What she could see of him was naked.
His blue eyes rolled toward her for only a moment, then, uninterested, his gaze shifted toward the sea. Jill reached for her dressing gown. As she wrapped herself within it, Liza had time to stare at the man, unobserved. His face and neck were darkened with the night’s growth of beard. His hair cascaded over powerful shoulders, and his black-fringed chest swelled as he breathed in a draft of morning air. Liza was both relieved and disappointed that his right forearm remained under the bed linen. She had spent a good deal of the night wondering what his hook might hide during the day.
When Jill glanced again at the girl, she was staring, fascinated, at the wall beyond the bunk. Jill followed her gaze to the hook and its leather harness. “Liza, you needn’t—”
A firm knock struck the door. Jill smiled at Hook. “We can’t fault our crew for laziness, can we? Enter, Mr. Smee!”
Smee stepped in and halted when he saw Liza. He blinked over his spectacles. “Good morning, Madam, Sir. I see now why my knock at young miss’ door went unanswered! I didn’t open though, Miss Liza. Captain’s orders that the surgeon and his daughter should be keeping their privacy.”
Interested now, Hook looked keenly at his bo’sun. “Where is the surgeon?”
“In the galley, Sir, hunting up a mug of tea to settle his stomach.” Smee grinned. “A fine dinner it was, Ma’am, but it seems the wine was a bit too plentiful.”
Jill arched her eyebrows. “I found it to be perfect.”
“It served its purpose.” Hook leaned forward and rolled his shoulders. Liza watched as the bed linen fell to his waist. “What is our disposition?” With his only hand, he unhooked his harness from the wall.
Smee strode forward and took it from him. “On course and all clear at the moment, Sir. Mason sighted that ship again, early, but it seems to have sheered off to the north. Couldn’t get a good look at it.”
“Come Liza, help me dress.” Jill crossed to starboard, threw open a curtain for light, and moved to the wardrobe. “Slide the drape closed, please.”
Liza followed and, with reluctance, drew the velvet cloth that hung in front of the couch. It closeted her and her mistress in a tidy space that included the couch and the wardrobe. The girl’s ears could still hear the captain moving, but her eyes were denied. His voice hadn’t gifted her with a word yet this morning. Her ears were disappointed.
Jill pulled the brass handle of the wardrobe. As it opened, daylight from the portside window flashed within its mirror, until the door settled wide. “The brush, please, Liza. Thank you. Take down the gold taffeta for today.”
As Liza ran her fingers over the gowns, she eyed the captain’s coats. She glanced over her shoulder, and then she stroked them, each of them, black, red, tawny-brown, blue. The velvet felt soft and supple between her fingers. Warm. She seized the sleeve of the black coat and, stealing another glance at Jill first, buried her face in it. She breathed deeply, then dropped the sleeve and took down the golden gown. She had just laid it out on the couch when her mistress’ next words startled her.
“Take out the captain’s suit, Liza. The golden brown one.” Jill smiled in that way Liza had found so enchanting, yesterday. “Captain Hook and I are a perfectly matched set.”
Liza pretended to return the smile, and obeyed. With the clothing over her arm, she raised her hand to open the curtain.
“No, Liza. Give it to me.” Jill held out her arms to take it. “Mr. Smee, I think this will do for today.” She moved around the curtain, out of Liza’s sight. The girl listened, and, to her delight, it wasn’t Smee’s voice that responded.
“Thank you, my love.”
Smee’s weighty footsteps retreated toward the foot of the bunk, and Liza heard a click and little stirrings as the shaving cabinet over the chest of drawers opened and its contents were removed. Then a silence.
Liza cast around to find a way to look and not be seen. She caught sight of the mirror on the wardrobe door. Her eyes widened.
In the quiet beyond the curtain, she saw Hook and Jill kissing. Jill’s back was turned to Liza. Her face tilted all the way up, and Hook bent down to meet her. His hand was buried in her hair, supporting her head. His leather-strapped arm wrapped around Jill’s shoulders, and from that arm, his hook hung harmless. Liza clearly saw the lady’s sky-blue dressing gown, and on either side of it— Liza sucked in her breath. On each side of Jill stood a naked, firmly muscled leg, foot to thigh, braced against the movement of the ship.
Liza’s jaw fell. Her breath became shallow, and very quick. The silence vanished, driven off by the heavy sound of her heart beating. As she listened to her heart, and stared, Liza could feel it as well, pulsing warmth throughout her body. Her face felt flushed and hot, and she beheld her mistress and her master until their kiss broke apart.
He still held her. With a twitch of his lip, the captain smiled at his lady, and he spoke over his shoulder.
“You came to us too early, Mr. Smee. But I assure you…I have roused now.”
Jill gave a conspiratorial laugh, and Mr. Smee chuckled. At the sound of Smee’s merriment, a thought occurred to Liza: a looking-glass reflected the couple from the shaving cabinet— from Mr. Smee’s standpoint— as well.
Jill turned toward the curtain again, and Liza dragged her gaze from the mirror. With shaking hands, the girl dressed her mistress and hung up her robe. She fetched a diamond and opal necklace from its drawer and brushed Jill’s shining hair, and when she’d finished these tasks, she was commanded to open every curtain in the cabin. She was surprised to find herself alone with the lady. Dazed by a vision of raw masculinity, Liza had tended the feminine chores without engaging her senses, unable to hear another word nor catch another movement from the opposite side of the velvet. Now, Smee and the master were gone. Overcome by what her eyes had seen, Liza’s ears had failed her. She hungered to hear more, to see more.
Jill, looking lovely in the golden gown, commandeered the brush and smoothed Liza’s locks again. “Your hair is most becoming down like this. It softens your features. But I see that you’re anxious this morning, Liza. In time, you’ll feel more accustomed to your situation.”
The girl managed a nod.
“I’ll speak to Mr. Cecco about your ring today.”
Liza was surprised. Jill had remembered her treasure.
Liza had forgotten all about it.
“Starting tomorrow, please bring a tea tray each morning. Two cups. Cook knows how to prepare it for me. Now fetch my cloak. I want you to tidy the room and make the bed. That’s all for this morning. I have some business to attend on deck, and then I’ll spend the rest of the morning writing.” She gestured toward the bookcase by the door. “You may borrow a book if you wish. There is nothing like a good story.”
But Liza looked blank, and shook her head.
For the first time, her mistress seemed disconcerted. “You don’t mean to tell me you can’t read?”
Liza nodded.
Jill didn’t hesitate. “We will begin tomorrow, first thing.”
Liza shook her head vigorously, then pretended to take a watch from her pocket and finger it.
“As I told you yesterday, Liza, your father is an intelligent man. But he is only a man. You must not fear him. We will do what is best for you.” But remembering the captain�
��s warning, Jill stopped herself short. “No.” This girl wasn’t her family. “I will not teach you personally; I’ll find another way. I must go now.”
After Liza lowered a fur-trimmed cloak over Jill’s shoulders, the mistress left her alone. The girl stood by the door and shut her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. Idly, she lifted a cover of the bookshelf and stroked the textured bindings. The golden titles winked in the sunlight, but she found she’d never really cared if she could read or not. She still didn’t. Like so many things, like Liza herself, reading had lost all importance after her mother’s death. She had forgotten the few letters she knew then. But the leathery scent of the volumes reminded her of something else, and as she loitered by the case, she indulged in the one thing she did care about now. Closing her eyes to the books, she filled her mind with him, instead.
Then, like a good servant, she followed orders.
Liza was attentive to her work. After setting the dining area to rights, she approached the captain’s sleeping area willingly, even eagerly. She plucked the shaving towel from the floor by the chest of drawers. Short black hairs resided in its soapy folds. After examining them, she leaned out a window and shook them into the sea. When the towel was neatened and replaced near the shaving stool, she tugged the bedclothes all the way down to the foot. Bending over the bed, she straightened the sheet in a manner to rival the most conscientious of chambermaids’. Her palms ran over the linen weave, and Liza caressed every wrinkle smooth, until the skin of her hands tingled and burned. Dutifully, she plumped his feather pillow as she hugged it, then held it to her face in case it might need airing. After scrupulous consideration, she determined it didn’t. It smelled just right.
She shouldn’t have been surprised to find his jeweled dagger underneath. She dropped the pillow to stroke it. The gems glowed in the sun, and the blade felt like solid silk under her finger. She replaced his pillow over the dagger and patted the other pillows into place, interrupting her tasks only to gaze out the window to see what his eyes had seen, and to touch the cold metal of the hook from which his leather brace hung each night— every night, while he eased his passions in this bed. She felt her pulse pounding again.