His Wicked Kiss

by Gaelen Foley

  “Aye-aye, ma’am,” he murmured wryly, sketching a salute.

  To his relief, his investigation yielded no results. The disease had not progressed yet to any other crewmen. Jack returned to see if she had all she needed, but the running of the ship required his attention, and so he had to make do with checking in frequently throughout the day.

  By the next evening, he was not the only one who was impressed with the intrepid Miss Farraday. For two days, she had tended her patient constantly, barely taking ten minutes for herself.

  When Jack arrived at the sickbay for a progress report, he heard her in conversation with the surgeon’s staff and paused outside the door, eavesdropping on the great Dr. Farraday’s daughter from sheer curiosity.

  She was taking the medics’ questions about the tea of bark and herbs that she and her father had learned from the Waroa shaman. The surgeon and his mates had many questions about the other dried plant samples in her bag, asking about the apothecary uses of each.

  “And this?”

  “Ah, yes, one of my father’s best discoveries. It’s from the cassia plant, a large shrub that grows on river banks. The crushed leaves make a fine cure for skin infections. Made into a poultice, it can speed up the healing of flesh wounds.” She showed them another. “This is the agrobigi, from the legume family. A tea made of it will cure dysentery.”

  “Here?”

  “A powerful painkiller. The natives call it Al-lah-wah-tah-wah-ku. It’s in the black pepper family.”

  They attempted to parrot the name, to little avail.

  Jack put his head down in amusement and listened to her with tickled pride in her skills.

  “This one’s the bergibita, for stomachache,” she went on. “Here is the jarakopi, for bringing down fevers. We may resort to this for Mr. Stockwell if the chinchonna bark does not suffice. And this one, konsaka wiwiri, is useful for healing diseases of the gums.”

  They marveled.

  “What does this one do, Miss?” one of the surgeon’s mates asked.

  “Careful with that!” She took it out of his hands with a knowing smile. “That’s the caapi plant, known as the vine of the gods. It’s a powerful sedative and hallucinogen. You’ll be off in dreamland swimming with the mermaids if you get any of that in your mouth.”

  They laughed at her charming warning, but Jack heard someone coming just then and glanced down the dim passageway.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded as Ballast came trudging out of the dim half-light.

  “Captain, sir.” The man bowed. “Surgeon said I should have me stitches checked today to see if I was fit enough for duty.” Glancing through the open door of the sickbay, Ballast saw Eden and blanched.

  Jack snorted, then nodded his permission for the gunner to proceed, but the piercing look he gave Ballast needed no words to warn him that he had best mind his manners.

  The big, bald sailor went slouching in. Jack remained in the doorway, curious to see Eden’s reaction to her nemesis.

  She froze at the sight of the towering gunner, but Ballast knew his captain was watching; his humble manner made it clear he was now more afraid of Eden than she had any cause to be of him.

  She kept her distance, remaining near Stockwell’s cot while Mr. Palliser checked the gunner’s stitches. But when the surgeon was through with him, she did something that stunned Jack.

  Squaring her shoulders bravely, she strode toward Ballast with her knapsack hooked over her shoulder.

  Palliser glanced at her in surprise as she stopped before Ballast, who was now seated on the bench by the wall.

  “Pardon me,” she addressed him in a formal tone. “They say your name is Ballast.”

  The gunner looked up, on his guard. “Aye, ma’am. That’s what they call me.” He regarded her with a surly, sideways look, no doubt dreading the fact that Jack was right there to see her talking to him and would pound him to a pulp.

  “I am Eden Farraday. I just wanted to say, well, that I’m very sorry that I cut you. I reacted out of instinct. I hope you understand.”

  Astonishment spread across Ballast’s craggy face. “You’re apologizing, Miss—to me?”

  Her nod was firm. “I’m afraid we both acted badly, but I am sorry for your pain, and I hope there will be no hard feelings.”

  Bravely, she thrust out her hand.

  Jack knew the gunner dared not shake it. Not after his captain had sworn to hang any man who touched her.

  “It don’t matter none.” Ballast looked away with an uneasy snort, but he still watched her warily out of the corner of his eye.

  Eden’s face stiffened at his refusal of her peace offering, but she was undaunted. She reached into her knapsack and pulled out one of her mysterious potions. “Here. Try this salve. It’ll help the wound to heal faster.”

  “I don’t think I will, Miss, if it’s all the same to you.”

  She lowered her head. “I understand. You have no reason to trust me. Well, I’ll leave it here in the sickbay for you, if you should change your mind, Mr. Ballast.”

  The gunner mumbled a vague thanks as he rose. Eyeing her suspiciously, he went to the doorway. He paused on his way out, giving Jack a perplexed look.

  Jack could not suppress a smile in answer, and shrugged.

  Ballast bowed his head again and returned to his duties.

  At last, Jack sauntered into the sickbay, gazing at his little stowaway in admiring fascination.

  “What are you smiling at?” she whispered, hushing him as he approached, for her patient was sleeping.

  Jack grasped her shoulders lightly, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Nothing. How are you holding up?”

  She rubbed the back of her neck, wrinkling up her nose with a weary little smile. “A bit hungry, I suppose.”

  “Go take a break for a while. Martin or Trahern will see that the galley sends food for you up to the cabin.”

  “I couldn’t leave him—”

  “I’ll keep watch if it makes you feel better. Go on. You’ve been here all day.”

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  He nudged her gently in the direction of the exit, felt his heart clench at her grateful smile, and sat down in the chair she had pulled next to Stockwell’s cot.

  She returned about an hour later, bringing tea for them both. The day’s end half-light had turned to full darkness, so Jack had lit a lantern on the table next to his chair. He stood up as she returned, offered her his seat, and gave her his uneventful report on the patient. Soon, they were both seated with the tea tray on the table between them, and the lantern turned down low.

  Stockwell slept on.

  “You didn’t have to apologize to Ballast, you know,” Jack murmured, watching her savor the steam rising from her cup. “The man is a bit of a brute.”

  “Even a brute deserves to be treated with dignity,” she answered with a smile. “Besides, I figured a little diplomacy on my part would make your life easier—help to keep the peace aboard the ship. I never wanted to cause any trouble, Jack.” She shook her head. “I’m just happy I was off in my aim when I cut Ballast, or I might have killed him. It was only luck that I missed a major artery in his arm. If I’d hit it, he’d have bled to death.”

  “You do recall his threat to gut you, I presume? He could have done it easily, you know.”

  She smiled at him with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. “Not with you standing there.”

  Pleased by her faith in him, he sighed, and sat back slowly, holding her gaze. “Maybe you and I should talk again about your father’s project. Those medicines. They’re pretty impressive.”

  “I know. It’s all down to the fact that Papa managed to win the shaman’s trust. The tribes don’t share their knowledge with outsiders unless they are convinced of their integrity. And that,” she added, “is Papa’s forte.”

  “The implications for these cures are fantastic. Take the military use just to start. England’s got thousands of troops all
over the torrid regions of the earth. India, for example. I have two cousins in the cavalry there, and the tropical fevers that sweep through the ranks devastate their forces after each monsoon. There’s the West Indies, the Mediterranean, the tropical regions of the Australian continent. Even the southern parts of America are ridden with swamp fever. Do you know how much nations would pay for a means to keep their troops alive?”

  “Jack, the point of the medicines isn’t to improve the odds in warfare. They’re for saving lives, not taking them. Besides, they’re not for sale.”

  “What?”

  “It would be wrong to horde them when people are dying. These cures belong to the whole of humanity. Lord, I sound like Papa.”

  “Eden,” Jack whispered, studying her face pensively. “This world is a very bad place to be an idealist. You have to watch out for your own interests, because nobody else is going to do it for you.”

  Her face was somber as she digested his words, then she looked at Peter Stockwell.

  Jack took another swallow of tea. “Tell me what else your father is working on.”

  She let out a low, sardonic laugh at his question. “The last I spoke to him, he wanted to go to the Amazon. That’s why I knew I couldn’t stay.”

  “The Amazon?” Jack echoed in amazement. He stared at her in shock. “What, just the three of you?”

  “And our servants, plus a few Indians.”

  “Good Lord, that’s pure lunacy.”

  “Yes, I know!” she exclaimed, turning in her chair to face him. “You agree with me, then? Really, Jack?”

  “Damned right I do. It’d be madness to undertake such a thing without a proper expedition. It takes funding, planning.” He furrowed his brow as he considered the scheme. “He’d need a team of twenty or thirty armed men just to survive it. A year’s supplies, at least. Pack animals. Boats. A couple of surgeons in case of accidents. Half a dozen more assistants. A survey team, illustrators, engineers, sharpshooters for protection. A large supply of trading goods to help smooth the way with those deadly tribes of the interior. My God, and to take a woman with him? Did it not occur to your father what could happen to you out there?”

  Eden sighed. “He thinks, no matter what, that I’m always safest by his side. It’s only ‘corrupt civilization’ that ever scares my father. Oh, I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you agree with me, Jack,” she said, laying her hand on his arm with a most heartfelt touch. “I was so afraid I was only being…selfish.”

  “Selfish?” He scoffed. “Sensible is more like it.” He shook his head. “I don’t even know what to say about this. I think your father has been in the wild too long. He was obviously not thinking clearly.”

  She gazed at him for a long moment in silent appreciation, her gratitude for his words written all over her lovely face. “Do you know what he said when I begged him to leave the jungle? The desires of the individual are of no concern beside the greater good. That sometimes we have to sacrifice ourselves, no matter what.”

  Jack looked into her eyes. “Isn’t that what you had been doing for the past ten years?”

  “Twelve,” she whispered.

  “How could he say that to you after the way you devoted yourself to him? That must have hurt you terribly.”

  She lowered her head. “Sometimes he just doesn’t think.”

  Jack watched her in tender concern. “What about your father’s assistant, O’Keefe? Didn’t he try at all to talk Victor out of his Amazon scheme?”

  “Oh, of course not. Connor thought it was a grand idea.”

  “Even to bring you?”

  “Especially to bring me.” She withdrew her hand and clasped her fingers upon her lap.

  Jack raised his eyebrow. “I see. So…there is something going on between the two of you?”

  “He wishes there were,” she said in a low tone, staring down at her hands.

  “Eden.”

  “Papa suggested that—” She sighed. “If I was lonesome in the wilderness, that I should marry Connor.”

  He scanned her face. “This plan found no favor with you?”

  “I don’t love him,” she answered with vehemence, then shook her head. “I’ve tried. But I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  She glanced at him warily. “Connor lost my trust.”

  “How?”

  She let out a slow exhalation, and then decided to share the grim tale. “When I was sixteen, a young Indian warrior, perhaps twenty years old, followed me into the forest. I had gone off alone to sketch my orchids. I was startled when he made his presence known. He started flirting with me. At first, I was merely nervous, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. Then I got scared.”

  Every muscle in his body had tensed as he listened. “Go on,” he said quietly.

  “Connor heard me when I screamed. He was there in the blink of an eye, I scarcely know how he found me so fast. But he pulled the boy off me and then—beat him senseless, right in front of me. It was horrible to watch. He just—tore him apart. He beat him so viciously the boy died a few days later.” She hesitated, shaking her head at the memory, her eyes glazed. “Connor was covered in blood. I’ll never forget the way he looked at me.”

  Jack was silent.

  She lifted her gaze to his once more. “Ever since then, he seems to think that I am his possession. I guess he felt that way all along, which is why he reacted to you as he did.”

  “Come here.” He pulled her closer and put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him; Jack pressed a kiss to her temple. “Nobody could ever own you, Eden Farraday. If that’s the situation, you were right to get out of there.”

  She was silent for a long moment. He could sense there was something she wanted to say.

  “What is it?” he murmured, brushing his lips against the corner of her forehead.

  “He may come after you, Jack. I do rather doubt he’ll leave the jungle just to follow me—he hates the world and can’t get on at all in civilization—but you deserve to know the possibility exists. He was in a rage, you see, that day he saw you kiss me.”

  “Oh, hell.” He sighed. “So, I put you in danger by doing that.”

  “I didn’t mind,” she said hastily, giving him a shy smile. “Besides, it wasn’t just you kissing me that made him angry. What made it far worse in his view, I’m sure, was to see me kissing you back.”

  “Yes, you did, didn’t you?” Jack murmured in a husky tone, reaching over to tug a long lock of her hair in teasing affection.

  “How could I not?” she retorted as a blush crept into her cheeks. “You didn’t give me much choice.”

  “Oh, come, it wasn’t so bad, was it? Besides, it had to be done.”

  “Why, because my father annoyed you?”

  He shook his head and grazed his thumb along her plump, sensitive lips. “There was no way I was leaving that place without kissing you. I needed at least a taste.”

  She blushed and lowered her gaze.

  Jack watched her ravenously.

  “The point is,” she resumed, “if he got the chance, I wouldn’t put it past Connor to try to strike back at you somehow.”

  “Don’t worry, sweeting. I’m not afraid of him.”

  “I am,” she said in a small voice.

  Overwhelmed by the urge to protect her, Jack pulled her onto his lap. “Come to me. It’s all right,” he whispered. He pressed her head down gently onto his shoulder; she wrapped her arms around him and nestled her face against the crook of his neck. “Nobody’s going to hurt you. Not while I’m around.”

  She hugged him more tightly, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. After a moment, she mumbled absently, “I like you all clean shaved.”

  He paid little mind. “Remember everything I said earlier, about funding your father’s research?”

  She nodded.

  “I take it all back,” he declared. “A new patron is the last thing that you and your father need. That’s not what you really want anyway, is it?
Funding his project would only give him the means to return to the middle of nowhere, and drag you back with him. It’s time to be honest with yourself, Eden. This isn’t what you really want.”

  “No,” she admitted in a reluctant whisper.

  “You both need a break from the jungle before it turns the lot of you into, what, noble savages.”

  “Yes.” She hugged him harder, almost fervently. “Oh, Jack. I’m praying Papa followed me out of the jungle—”

  “I’m sure he did. He’d have to be worried sick. This may be just the thing to jar him back to his senses.”

  “When he sees London again, and Aunt Cecily, and all my cousins, I’m sure he’ll realize that it isn’t as bad as he’s come to believe. It was Mother’s death that changed him. He’s been hiding out there in the forest.”

  “And keeping you with him. Listen to me.” He took her face between his hands and gave her a sober look. “You have nothing to feel guilty for in leaving. Your father’s the one who’s been selfish—and the next time we meet, I shall make a point to tell him so.”

  She smiled ruefully. “Not that he’ll listen.”

  “You haven’t heard me roar,” he explained in a teasing whisper, then he chucked her gently under the chin. “No more talk of patronage, now, or what your Papa wants. The important question from here on in is what do you want, Eden?”

  She relaxed in his arms again, laying her head on his shoulder. “I want what I’ve always wanted,” she said after a moment’s consideration, then reached up to play with his hair, a faraway smile curving her lips. “I want to go to London and join in all the pleasures of the Season.”

  “Hm.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “And why do you want that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, you’ll think it sounds silly—but it just—it seems to me like London is the place where life is really happening. Everywhere else is just…pale imitations.” She shook her head, seeing visions he could only guess at, by her dreamy look. “So many people. So much to do. The elegant shops and houses. All the beautiful lords and ladies…just like in the magazines.” She leaned her cheek wistfully against his. “How I wish that I could be like them.”

  Jack held her in silence, not knowing what to say.