Other Oceans

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Other Oceans Page 22

by Andrea Jones


  § § §

  “But, my noble Doctor, really, am I asking more than you?”

  “A good deal more, LeCorbeau, and if I may say so, your motives are not inspired by honorable desires.”

  “And yours are, of course!” The Frenchman’s black eyes kindled in the light of dual lanterns as he leaned forward in a chair before the doctor’s desk. Having discarded the blanket, Guillaume stood at attention behind his captain, miraculously cured of his sneezing. Drifting through the closed door came the sounds of music and revelry from the upper deck.

  “Which honorable desire motivates you, Monsieur? Lust for the woman, or hatred for the man from whom you would steal her?”

  “I have no need to justify my motives to you!”

  “Nor I to you. But surely your overactive conscience can be assuaged. In fact, the young man will fare better in the hands of legitimate privateers than apprenticed to the pirates you so despise.”

  “The only point, so far, on which I agree with you.”

  “I do not require that you agree. I want what I want, and I find myself in a position to demand it.”

  Hanover’s jaw tensed. “My position is not so fortunate, yet I must abide by my principles.”

  Easing back in his chair, the privateer rested his elbows on its arms and tapped his fingers together. “Very well. You can remain on this ship with your principles intact, and continue to strain against Hook’s leash. Perhaps when he tires of his concubine, he will throw you a bone! Heh! heh! By that time, who knows? Your blossoming daughter may have succeeded at last in capturing his attention.”

  Livid, the surgeon pounded the desk with his fist. “For heaven’s sake—”

  “No!” LeCorbeau leapt from his seat. “For your own sake, drop your foolish pretensions! We have business to pursue. I, for one, am eager to return to it, and to its profits.”

  With his fists still clenched, the doctor sat back. “Well, what is your plan?”

  “Very simple.” LeCorbeau turned his back on his partner and, linking his hands behind him, strolled within the confines of the cabin. Guillaume retreated out of his way. “After my merciful beneficence to the Julianne, I am running short of water—”

  “Yes,” Hanover couldn’t resist the barb, “I am amazed at your philanthropy. You must have wanted to find me very badly.”

  “Not to worry, Doctor. My Guillaume has learned well how to please his master. He made sure the casks I so generously shared with Captain Whyte were only one-quarter full! But Hook does not know this. He will believe I must make port to replenish my supplies, and since taking two prizes, he, too, will wish to go ashore to dispense with his goods. You will accompany his party…and find an opportunity to slip away. My ship will be moored well apart from the Roger, and once Hook has been assured I am not harboring the fugitive, the, eh, tumult will die down. I will then send a boat for you. Under cover of the night, you will board L’Ormonde, keeping out of sight— and working on your product— until our business with Hook is concluded.”

  “And what is your grand scheme for the others?” For the moment, the doctor controlled his skepticism.

  “Ah! It will take time and patience, my friend, but, eh…on one prearranged dark night while all is calm, your daughter will require her mistress to tend to her sickbed, in this very room. And perhaps the son will also attend her? Very soon they will have lowered themselves out this window into a waiting dinghy. But understand. In order for it to be worth my while to bait the wrath of James Hook, you must make me a wealthy man! After this audacious theft, I may find it necessary to spend the rest of my career avoiding him. I prefer to do that with very much gold to limit whatever, eh— regrets— I may have.”

  “But why not take us all at once?”

  “My dear Doctor, I have just told you. Hook knows I have no use for his woman. But if he believed you had taken her from him, he would pursue L’Ormonde to the far corners of the earth. There would be no end to his fury! But as you will be left in the town, and the ladies will vanish far out to sea, he cannot suspect you.” Looking pleased with himself, LeCorbeau concluded, “And in addition, your disappearance supplies a motive for your daughter’s so-unfortunate suicide.”

  “Suicide!”

  “But yes. You will instruct these women on the roles they must play. Your daughter will exhibit the despondence when you abandon her, and so sadly, her kind mistress will perish also, drowning in the misguided rescue attempt. A few items of clothing will be found, but, I am afraid, this is all that will appear to be left of these females.”

  “And the young man?”

  LeCorbeau opened his hands. “A mystery! Perhaps he died trying to play the hero.”

  “You presume, then, that Mr. Nibs will be persuaded to join you, and willing to perpetrate this deception.”

  “That, Doctor, is your concern. You shall persuade him.”

  “I? Act as your procurator!”

  “You need not tell him everything. Once he is among my crew, I can break through his defenses— very easily, with your fine medicine to assist me.” Sliding his eyes toward his mate, LeCorbeau spoke over his shoulder. “Is this not so, Guillaume?”

  The sailor dropped his gaze to the floor, his slender cheeks pink. “Oui, Commandant.”

  Hanover exclaimed, “You know I never intended my formula to be used for such purposes!”

  “Oh, yes, of course. It is merely to keep marital harmony, is it not? To discourage vice.”

  “Used properly, my philter will eliminate vice.”

  “You will make far more money by encouraging it! At least, I do.”

  “An unfortunate necessity until I gain wider recognition in the field of medicine. I have found no other way to secure the key ingredient. But I deplore your use of the philter under these circumstances! How if, this time, I refuse to be a party to your corruption?”

  “Oh, very well. That option is open to you. If you wish to surrender your daughter…to the lust of your enemy.”

  “What?”

  “Oui, Monsieur, her fate rests with you. If you cannot bring Mr. Nibs, I will be forced to leave the girl behind, as well.” He shrugged. “With Captain Hook.”

  “You cannot mean—”

  “But I can.” Mock concern replaced the cruelty on the Frenchman’s face. “Only think of the poor man’s feelings! After you pluck his most precious flower, he will be wanting fresh female companionship.”

  “A disgusting suggestion! And Hook will be furious. He will rage over losing Jill. It is entirely possible, LeCorbeau, that he will pour his retribution on Liza. Once Jill is gone, there is no telling what he would do, or order done, to my daughter. That savage man would stop at nothing to defile what I hold pure!”

  “Then, eh, the kindest course for you to follow is to enlist my young man. No?”

  Hanover stared darkly. “This is a new low, even for you, LeCorbeau.”

  The privateer remained unruffled. “You think so? You have not known me so very long, Doctor. Why, in your dealings with me you have learned for certain only that I consort with fugitives and,” his expression lost all congeniality, “murderers!”

  “You go too far!” Hanover tugged his waistcoat smooth. “I am not about to argue the finer points of my conscience with you. And there is one serious flaw in your plan. When we arrive in port, I will not be at liberty to disembark.”

  “Really, Doctor, your chivalry goes beyond reason! Both your paramour and your daughter will live without your protection for a few days.”

  “It is not a matter of choice, Sir. Aboard this ship I suffer greater indignities than you imagine. The fact of the matter is—” Exasperated, Hanover shoved himself out of his chair and seized the bed curtain. Throwing it aside, he watched a look of incredulity dawn on the privateer’s face as the man perceived the shackles.

  “Mon Dieu! Hanover…but you are thorough in making your enemies!”

  “You are not so very wrong when you say I am on Hook’s leash.”


  To Hanover’s chagrin, LeCorbeau began to smile. “My old friend Hook…Heh! heh! He is as shrewd a man as I have ever known, eh, excepting myself, of course! If he does not understand you as well as I do, he is certainly a man of intuition.” LeCorbeau’s derision grew in intensity, and soon brought on a bout of his wheezing laughter. Moving quickly to his side, Guillaume returned the lace handkerchief to his master. “Thank you, my boy. Heh, heh, heh! I can imagine your sputtering outrage, Hanover, when you were informed of this arrangement!” Wiping his eyes, the Frenchman sat down again, his mirth subsiding. “Well. I have had my little joke at your expense. But I am running out of time. Tell me, when does he order you restrained?”

  “Whenever we approach port, or a vessel other than yours.”

  Squinting over his beaky nose, LeCorbeau said, “But you hide something from me. Hook has otherwise behaved as if you were one of his officers. You claim that you feign to be so. Why should he not trust in you?”

  Looking down at his cuff, Hanover dashed a piece of lint from it. “Because I refuse to take an oath of loyalty.”

  LeCorbeau gaped at the surgeon as if the man were a lunatic. Turning an ear toward the doctor, he blinked. “Pardon? You refuse? When a simple swearing is all that stands between you and your freedom?”

  “In binding myself with such an oath, I would not gain freedom. I am a man of honor. I cannot pledge to serve a pirate.”

  “I can understand that you might not serve a pirate. But— to balk at telling a lie? It is absurd! You have the power to walk off this ship, and you refuse it. Worse, you refuse me my very profitable commerce!”

  “Nevertheless. I cannot falsely swear.”

  LeCorbeau cursed. “Always, Hook finds the weakness and uses it to his advantage. You and your honor! But this time I will not be outfoxed. No! Wily as he is, he will not win!” The captain stamped. “You shall defy him! Swear his oath, or your honor will be compromised as you break your pledge to me.” The Frenchman’s fingers slipped into his pocket to fondle his stiletto. “You remember that pledge. The last time we spoke, you declared it was so sacred to you.”

  Eyeing the Frenchman’s pocket, Hanover flushed. “And I do honor it. There is no need to threaten me. You must simply find another way to get me off this ship. Frankly, I am shocked that you would suggest such a deception on my part. It places you on a lower level even than the pirates I have witnessed serving under oath to Hook.”

  “Fortunately, I do not depend upon your opinion. Only upon your talent to perform miracles.” Seizing control of his temper, LeCorbeau breathed deeply, and as he collected his thoughts a sly smile stole across his lips. Taking a card from Hook’s deck, the captain played on the doctor’s other vulnerability. His beady eyes surveyed the surgeon. “And, as you may recall…I have authority to perform miracles of my own.”

  Encouraged by the sudden greedy look on Hanover’s face, LeCorbeau waxed generous. “Yes. A man of principle such as yourself has need of my authority, in order to honorably engage in the liaison with the woman. A ship’s captain has the power even to unite the happy couple— in matrimony.”

  “When?”

  With a coy look, LeCorbeau answered, “Well, eh, certainly not until all desirable parties are safely aboard L’Ormonde.”

  Hanover sat silent.

  “So, the sooner you can bring yourself to ‘join’ Hook’s company, the sooner you will leave it.” The Frenchman strutted to the bunk. Jingling the chain there, he trilled, “Ah, which of us does not love to see a wedding! I am sure the occasion will bring the tears of joy to my eyes. Come, Guillaume. It is time to begin sneezing again.” The shackles thudded onto the mattress and LeCorbeau gathered up the blanket. The cocky little captain draped it over Guillaume, and linked the young man’s arm in his own. At the door, he turned.

  “But I should hate to see the so-innocent bridesmaid left behind, shrinking hopelessly into the distance. The only female on a ship full of pirates, never to be seen again.” In a helpless gesture, he lifted his shoulders. “Abandoned by the father who saw fit to give her— body and soul— to the one man in this world he judges most immoral.”

  Hanover stared, unseeing, at his desktop, his right hand clutching and releasing his watch.

  “Or, Doctor, shall we instead more pleasantly plan the honeymoon? A nice leisurely voyage, perhaps— to Alexandria? I understand that the lotus blooms there.”

  § § §

  Liza discovered she had underestimated her mistress. It was a mistake she wouldn’t make again.

  Kneeling in front of her, despairing, the girl stared at the design of the carpet. Its colors swirled before her eyes, illuminated by morning sunshine. Liza smarted as if she’d just been whipped, but the punishment she was to receive was worse.

  The lady stood cool and calm. “I warned you at the start to stay out of the captain’s way. Until you learn your place, you will serve me only when I am alone.”

  A spasm ran down Liza’s spine.

  “Mr. Smee will come for you in the mornings, and after your duties here and your lessons, you will be confined to quarters.”

  In her relief, Liza almost relaxed. She could still slip away to the empty cabin, when he was there—

  “In the shackles I so wisely advised the captain to install.”

  Liza didn’t move. The shackles! And they had been Jill’s idea?

  “I trust I have made myself clear.”

  Smee prodded, but only with his voice. “Answer your mistress, girl.”

  Sulking, Liza nodded.

  “No, Miss, you can do better than that.”

  She inhaled, and looked up at the pirate queen. The bloody drops on her throat, Liza reminded herself, were only rubies.

  “One more lapse will land you in the brig. But of course, you won’t have to stay there long.” Jill tilted her head. “There are quite a few empty islands in these waters.”

  Panic mounting, the girl shook her head. Jill smiled.

  “I am so glad you understand. It will make the rest of your service more pleasant for everyone. Mr. Smee, remove this creature to her quarters.” Turning away, Jill headed toward her writing desk. But before she progressed more than a few steps, she heard a muffled thump. She halted and whirled.

  Her eyes widened. Liza had collapsed on the rug. As the girl scrambled to her feet, she clutched at the hem of her dress, tugging it down to hide a ghastly discoloration of her flesh.

  Indignant, Jill exchanged a glance with Smee. His jaw had fallen open, and now he gave a curt shake of his head. Liza lurched toward the door, limping, but in one stride Smee blocked her exit. Jill bridled her temper and closed in to confront the girl.

  “Liza. How did this happen?”

  Still forcing her skirt down, Liza shook her head.

  “Never mind! I know how. No one but the captain and I hold the authority to touch you.” Jill lifted her chin. “Who dared to beat you?”

  The obvious answer begged to give itself, but something loyal in Liza refused to convey it— and Jill would never believe Captain Hook had done it. The girl’s eyes darted wildly as she thought. Smee? No, the look of surprise on the man’s face was too genuine. Everyone knew Yulunga was vicious enough, but why would he bother? Cecco had never so much as looked at her. Only one choice remained.

  As Jill and Smee stared, Liza stood as straight as she was able. Slowly, her hands reached down to gather her skirts, and she raised the mauve material above her knees. Smee watched her frozen face. Jill’s lip curled as she beheld the bruises— long, purple-black stripes on the thighs of both slender legs.

  “Ma’am?”

  “Yes, Mr. Smee. I want you to see this.”

  Smee’s gaze shifted toward the girl’s legs. His eyes narrowed behind his spectacles, and then he watched the mistress.

  “Enough, Liza.”

  The girl dropped her skirts.

  All the power of the pirate queen condensed into Jill’s one word. “Who?”

  Drawing the muscles of h
er face together, Liza expressed regret.

  “I promised you the protection of the captain. You shall have it.”

  Liza’s gray eyes opened wide, trusting. Then, resolutely, her little hand with its pearly ring rose. Her finger pointed. She rested it on her temple, and gradually traced a line— to her eyebrow. The exact path of a new scar among the crewmen. A well-discussed scar. Her finger lingered there for a moment, then her hand dropped.

  When the lady spoke at last, her tone was icy.

  “Tom.”

  Liza bowed her head.

  Smee restrained himself from wrapping his arms around the lady, to buoy her. She wouldn’t want the girl to witness any sign of weakness. Sharply, he turned to Liza. “Get out!”

  Only after the door closed behind her did Liza let loose the smile. It seemed she herself had been underestimated. Maybe the master wouldn’t see her for a few days, but she had arranged it so he would have to think about her.

  Fair enough. Liza had thought of him under every one of that ‘gentleman’s’ excruciating strokes. And wouldn’t the gentleman be grateful she’d had the intelligence to lie for him? Jill would never have to know— until it was far too late.

  § § §

  “She’s lying, Sir. I swear it.”

  Hook regarded Tom Tootles with a chilly stare. Starkey sat uncomfortable before the desk, surveying the stick laid to rest upon its surface, the gift of ebony from the privateer. The tutor was loathe to call the captain’s notice, but now he spoke up, running a finger around his collar.

  “I don’t know when the lad could have done it, Captain,” Starkey said. “I’ve been working him hard, and as far as I can tell, he’s not been near that girl since his thrashing.”

  “The fact remains,” Hook stated. “The girl was beaten, and by someone aboard my ship.”

  Tom opened his mouth, but before he could think what to say in his defense, the hook cut a swath in the air, silencing him. The captain continued. “Now that this matter has come to light, we shall settle it logically, and unpleasant as it may be for some of the present company, all of you will understand the truth.” His gaze fell upon Smee, who, with a grim determination, forged ahead.

 

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