“Despite the books it was an auspicious thing,” Gaston said.
“Thank God you are practicing witchcraft. If you had not conjured that fog, who knows what would have befallen us.”
We laughed, yet I noted it did little to ease his tension.
“What is wrong?”
“It was too easy.”
I nodded. I had heard that from several others, including Striker. There was yelling on deck, and I grinned. “Perhaps something disastrous will occur tonight to set things right. I am sure young Tom could provoke a duel or two.” I remembered I had not told him of my new plan. I quickly related my thoughts from last night.
He chuckled. “You should leave match-making to Pete.”
“Non, I am as talented as any man, and I have meddled in the affairs of many.”
“To what success?” he grinned.
“A few duels…” I regarded him curiously as he laid his head on the small table we had made out of the bunk.
“You think too much, and so do I. Make it all go away,” he murmured.
We retired to our hammock, and I endeavored to do so. As always, I only wished I could give him the release I achieved; but he seemed relaxed when we finished, and he smiled lazily at me. I cuddled next to him, and we listened to the sounds of the party continuing overhead.
“If we see another ship in the morning I think most of us will be without our pants,” I said.
Low laughter rumbled through his chest. “I think Striker set a fine example for us all this morning. I have met no other captain who would put his ship before even his dignity.”
“Dignity is worthless if you are dead, but I concur.” I chuckled. “I know of few men who would run out to command their troops naked as the day they were born, though it is not as if he has anything to be ashamed of in that area.”
“Nor would you,” he said.
At first I winced, as I had not meant to imply that he did; but as I saw the gaze he had upon me, I realized he meant something else entirely.
“Truly?”
He nodded and gazed at the ceiling with a mischievous smile. “I have noted that you are better endowed than Striker, both flaccid and aroused.”
I had noted the same, but was not one to hold court on the matter. “And this pleases you?”
“You are mine. You are better. It pleases me.”
“So in your competitive Gallic heart this matter holds merit and nowhere else?”
He laughed. “It seems well-formed.”
“It thanks you.” I considered pressing him further, but I knew it truly could not carry much other interest with him. I was pleased he had said as much as he had, and that he looked on it with pride.
“It gives me pause,” he whispered, and immediately flushed.
The possible interpretations of this gave me pause, and I found my head cocked like a dog’s before I realized it.
“In what way?”
He sank even further into the hammock, if that were possible, and sighed. “I did not wish to discuss it.”
“Then we shall not. I will be filled with curiosity and unable to sleep, but I shall endure.” I kissed him on the temple and made as if to roll over.
Gaston caught my shoulder and snorted derisively. I settled down on my elbow and his eyes returned to the ceiling as he sighed again. “The size gives me pause if we were…If I was to allow you to…”
My heart lurched for a moment with excitement, and I thought of whales and Spanish galleons and all manner of terrifying things to keep myself from becoming aroused at the mere thought that he had harbored a thought on that matter.
“Good Lord,” I whispered, “you have been thinking on a great number of things, have you not?”
He nodded and studied the far wall. “Over the years, I have noticed that many find pleasure in being the recipient.”
“It can be extremely pleasurable unto itself.”
“This is a thing you wish, non?” He was still not looking at me.
“Oui, but I will not ask it of you. If we never engage in that, then I will…”
“Endure,” he said.
I grabbed his chin and turned his head to face me. “In truth, as I believe I have mentioned, I would rather you were aroused and buggered me.”
His eyes narrowed, and he pulled my hand off his chin and kissed my fingers. “So would I.” He frowned. “Other than… it being proof of my… desire, would you find it pleasurable?”
I mirrored his furrowed brow. “Oui…” I found myself flushing. Now I did not wish to discuss the subject. “Beyond the feelings it engendered in my heart and mind, I find it physically pleasurable when… done gently. And beyond that….” I sighed. That was not wholly the truth.
I stopped talking and started thinking. I decided it was safe to go poking about in the shadows.
“I did enjoy it,” I stated with more conviction. “Or rather, I wished to enjoy it and I felt…that it could have been immensely pleasurable if I had been with someone else. Because there were aspects of it that seem to be knotted up with the matter of it providing proof and the like… But yet separate as well. I resented both of them for it, or rather, I resented Shane for the manner in which he did it and Alonso because he would have it no other way. I was not allowed to mount either of them.”
I gazed into Gaston’s green eyes and tried to put the indescribable into words. “It is immensely pleasurable to me, both physically and in spirit. One must surrender in ways that are difficult for me, and upon doing so I found great peace for a moment. Even if all of these other thoughts were running amuck in my mind before and after, and even if it started and ended in pain, I achieved some kind of peace with myself when it occurred. There is this need to expel it. This feeling of being impaled. And then there is this knowledge that one must accept it and endure and in doing so it gets easier and the peace comes and… By God, it is the most spiritual sensation I have ever experienced. And then the pleasure comes. That is the thing that a man can give me, and a woman cannot.”
Gaton nodded and I felt he did understand.
I kept exploring. “And I… I resented Shane and Alonso, because they would never understand what they had wrought on me and I had felt this thing, and I could not share it with the one who brought me to it, and I was very alone. I wanted to surrender to them. I wanted it to be an act of love. But it could not be. It was a thing of lust and left me feeling dirty and confused. It belittled it.”
He rubbed my back, but I did not let him pull me down to him yet. I took several ragged breaths. “Of course that was the least of my concerns, and I distracted myself from it all admirably. In looking back, I did myself poor service in that. As always, I asked so little, and expected less, and called it more.” I wiped threatened tears away with annoyance, and tried to compose myself.
“Someday I will be honored to take you there,” he whispered. “Whether it proves anything or not.”
“It will prove I love you,” I said with surprise. “It proved I loved them. Why should such a simple thing be so confusing?”
I was heartened by the discussion, though, as I had discovered another thing and it had not ripped my soul asunder to do so. I smiled at him.
“I see now that the act itself was not the cause of the reciprocal self-loathing I engaged in before; it is separate and merely tarnished by all of that. Perhaps someday I will polish it with you, and hold it to the light and cherish it for what it is.”
“Storming the gates of Heaven,” he said.
I finally remembered my own words and the night on North Wind when we had watched the men in the bow make love.
“I have… I suppose there have been a few times I have engaged in that as it is meant to be. Some of my lovemaking with Alonso, in which I was the recipient, was of that nature, and a powerful and wonderful thing. It is hindsight and a greater understanding of myself that makes me question it now. But at the time, it was quite wonderful and the best I could imagine. And some of the lovers I have tak
en… the act reached that level of intensity. But it has been a rare thing and I…. I almost feel I have misled you in a sense, in that the beauty I wanted you to see is not common. But you know that, do you not?”
He shook his head. “Oui, you did not mislead me. You gave me much to think about that night, as you always do.”
“That is truly the most reciprocal aspect of our relationship.” I grinned and slipped into his embrace. In time, I let myself sleep with his fingers playing through my hair.
I woke to the sound of the door clattering open and the feel of Gaston tensing beneath me. I grabbed a pistol from the netting with my left hand as my right was under Gaston. The lamp had guttered, and the room was dark except for the reflected moonlight from the waves through the windows. There were several people, and I sighed with annoyance, as I assumed it was Pete and Striker staggering in drunk. Then I remembered that was impossible, given the meager amount of beer. I guessed someone had been hoarding a bottle or two of rum.
Then Belfry spoke. “There must be a lamp. Ah, here it is.” The lamp surged to life as he turned up the wick, and we blinked at Belfry, Dickey, and Tom, who were soon blinking at us. When Belfry raised his hands, I realized we had pistols trained on them. When Dickey averted his gaze, I realized we were naked.
“What the Devil are you doing?” I yelled. I replaced the pistol in the netting and returned to glaring at them.
“We thought this cabin was empty,” Belfry sputtered. “We needed privacy.” He looked alarmed at his own words and added quickly, “For a discussion.” His eyes flicked to the ceiling. “Um, you are naked.”
“Of course I am. I am in my hammock, in my cabin, and it is night.”
Dickey chuckled and said, “Our apologies. We will leave.”
“Nay, nay, you are here. We are awake and now I am curious.” I looked at Gaston and shrugged. “Are you curious?”
“Non, merely awake,” he rasped.
“Hand me that water bottle, would you?” I said. “And what is this about?”
“Will you dress?” Belfry asked.
“Nay,” I snapped.
Gaston grabbed my face with both hands and turned me to look at him. “I would like my clothes.” He was more bemused than angry.
I sighed, and a minute later Gaston and I were dressed and we all crowded about the table.
“Now what is this about?” I reiterated.
“They wish to chastise me,” Tom said. He sounded and looked far drunker than the keg of beer would have allowed; and I surmised he had been into a hidden stash, if no one else had. Dickey and Belfry appeared quite sober.
“You are being quite the little tart,” Dickey said firmly.
I sighed and understood. So something had come to a head, so to speak.
“Has anyone threatened a duel as of yet?” I asked. They all regarded me with surprise. “Perhaps you should finish lecturing him,” I sighed.
“He is being flirtatious,” Dickey said. “He has no intention of bedding the man.”
“I was not,” Tom said. “They had some rum. I agreed to dance.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Jackson.”
“Which one is Jackson?”
“You have seen him,” Belfry said. “He’s tall, a musketeer, very muscular with dark hair.”
Gaston laughed. I regarded Belfry quizzically. “As we have been at sea for a month with the same men on a small ship, I am sure I have seen him, but you will have to do better than that.”
“Aye,” Dickey said, “You have only eliminated fifteen of over eighty men. Jackson is one of Hasting’s men.”
I swore.
“What does that matter?” Tom asked.
I could not tell him my suspicions because if I did it would be all over the ship. “It has nothing to do with who you choose to associate with. It may have a great deal with who chooses to associate with you.” I could see Hastings putting one of his men up to seducing Tom, just to anger Cudro into doing something stupid.
Tom leaned on the table and smirked. “I am not taking a matelot. I have no need of one. So I will not add to the political turmoil on this vessel.”
“You do not have to take a matelot to add to the turmoil,” I said. “You are actually causing more trouble by not taking one. If you are with one man, then there is less for speculation and no one can be using you as a tool to provoke others.”
He rolled his eyes, and I knew he was too drunk to engage in this discussion. Dickey and Belfry were frowning at me, though.
“What do you mean?” Dickey asked. “I have been concerned that he will get himself abused because someone will not realize he is merely flirting.”
“I am concerned that he will be used as a pawn to provoke a duel that will change the balance of power on this ship,” I said. “And even if that were not an issue, he is an attractive man, and there are lonely men who wish to be with him; and that can cause duels if he favors one over another, even without commitment, actually especially without commitment. This is a serious matter that someone, including Tom, could lose his life over. For example, if he were abused, he would be expected to duel to defend his honor.” I winced inwardly as I said it. “Is he capable of such a thing, or would you feel the need to step forward in his place?”
I could see that Dickey now grasped the situation. Belfry appeared horrified. Even Tom seemed to have listened. He was frowning.
“Truly?” he asked.
“Yes. Matelotage is a very serious matter, and trifling with men’s affections in these parts carries far more weight than dallying with maidens, though I have known many a court situation where the gravity would be equal to this. Young English ladies in the country are seldom armed, and other young gentleman who may feel the need to compete for them are, thankfully, seldom competent at dueling. The man worth the most pounds per year always wins anyway. Here, the man you spurn may kill you, or another man may kill him. Toying with them is not a game. Here you must get married or not dally at all. And I do realize how that goes against your nature, but by your own account you do not favor men.”
“I have mused upon a possible solution,” I added. “Aye, I do waste my time thinking of your social status, and meddling is a recreation of mine. You may wish to consider pairing with someone in name only. For example, if Dickey and you were to declare yourselves as matelots and act it to some degree, then that would alleviate the other tensions for as long as Dickey sailed with us.”
“Nay,” Dickey said.
I sighed. “I am not asking you to bugger one another; and believe me, it would make neither of you appear less manly amongst the Brethren.”
Dickey’s eyes flicked from me to Gaston and back. “It is a serious issue; and if I am to engage in such a thing, it will be sincerely and with someone I am willing to die for.”
I was, of course, not the only one surprised at this. Dickey looked at Belfry and Tom and gave an apologetic shrug.
“You are my friends, but…. Please take no offense.” He stood. “With your leave,” he said formally, and left us.
Tom was quite flummoxed, but Belfry seemed more concerned than fazed.
“Well, then,” Belfry said. “Perhaps we should find our beds as well.”
“May I sleep here?” Tom asked. He was still staring at the door.
“If you do not mind sleeping upon the floor,” I said.
Tom shook his head. He did not move.
“Well, then,” Belfry said. “I will go to our cabin then.”
We wished him a good night, or rather morning, and watched him go. Tom had not moved.
“Are you well?” I asked. He shook his head.
“He has always cared for me,” he said dully. “I cannot believe I have angered him so greatly that he will no longer care for me.”
Gaston and I exchanged a look.
“Tom,” I said kindly. “It is late, or early, and we are all tired, as I am sure Dickey is. Let us sleep on it, and perhaps you two can speak in the sober l
ight of day and reach an understanding.”
Tom shook his head, and slid off the chair to crawl into a corner and sleep. In my own way, I was as baffled by the outcome as Tom. I looked to Gaston, and he shrugged and turned down the lamp. We returned to our hammock and cuddled together. I lay awake and watched the reflected moonlight glint off the ceiling. I was beginning to feel I knew nothing of people and all of my suppositions concerning others might be suspect. For all I knew, Hastings was our staunchest ally.
We woke to Pete and Striker snoring loudly in their hammock and Tom curled uncomfortably in the corner. We took our time with our rudimentary morning toilet, and went out into the sun. Men were strewn everywhere, as if they had been thrown by a giant hand. All of them were snoring or drooling and apparently alive. I harbored a suspicion that there had been several heretofore-unknown caches of alcohol.
We found the Bard at the whipstaff. He appeared half dead. I pried his hand from it. “Go lie down.”
“Where’s Tom?” he asked.
“Dead to the world in our cabin,” I said. He raised an eyebrow. “I do not feel I have the liberty to speak of the reason for it. He was drunk; ours was a safe place for him to sleep without complication.”
He frowned but shrugged. “I can’t sleep without someone to relieve me.”
“Are we on a proper course?”
“Aye, but we are beating.” He showed me the heading we were on and the one we needed for Hispaniola. I understood that, and as Gaston paid close attention as well, I knew we were at least capable of staying on course.
“Will we need to tack right away?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Then rouse Belfry, and we will manage.”
He frowned at me and then at Gaston, and shrugged. “We’re in open ocean and the weather is fine. I don’t suppose you can wreck her.”
“Never assume, but we will do our utmost not to.” I took the staff and he went to his cabin. I felt the pull of the rudder and tested my control a little. The ship felt as though it were a living thing, much like a horse that I was controlling more by her good nature than any degree of power I could exercise.
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