Matelots

by W. A. Hoffman

  This disheartened her greatly.

  “Christine,” I chided gently. “A woman need not be weak in body, though I doubt any woman can be as strong as a man… of comparable build. However, you have never had account to exercise a muscle – other than riding, I would imagine.”

  “And that not enough or lately,” she muttered. “I am a fool.”

  I grinned. “Do not chastise yourself. If you wish to run with the wolves, then you need to act like one. You possess an ambition; spend every waking moment achieving it.”

  She was slow to smile, but when it came, it was predatory. “You are correct.”

  With that, she threw herself into diligently learning the proper stances with a dagger, and then in practicing all the calisthenics Gaston showed her.

  As the sun reached its zenith, we decided to return to Port Royal, and retreated farther into the shade of the brush and palms to make our way there. This proved too rough on the girls’ bare feet, so we returned to the surf. The beach of the Palisadoes is pebbly, and does not possess the soft sand of the beach at Negril or the lovely strand on the larger Cayman isle. Still, it was far softer than stepping on all manner of burrs and other things that the brush offered.

  I began to think the girls would not wish to go anywhere on the morrow. Their legs and arms were quite red, burned bright by the sun. Gaston would have to give them a salve. And they limped. I briefly considered carrying them, but that would not do if any saw us. Of course it would not matter if Christine collapsed, which was likely: she was nearly too exhausted to walk. I knew she would ache in every muscle once she stopped moving.

  “I think you should stay abed and rest on the morrow,” I told her. “I fear you will not wish ought else.”

  “Nay,” she said with gritted teeth. “I must do it all again.”

  I snorted. “Nay, you must rest. We were cruel to ask so much of you this day.”

  “Do not coddle me,” she chided. “What would you say to me if I were a lad who wished to become a buccaneer?”

  “I would call you a fool and tell you to go back to your mother. And that if you could run three leagues and lift me.”

  “Why?” she asked with more curiosity than challenge.

  “It is not a pleasant life, and it is fraught with danger.”

  “Then why do you do it?” she asked.

  Gaston was chuckling quietly beside us.

  I sighed. “It has its charm if… you are a man who does not favor the trappings of civilization. It truly has an allure if you favor men.”

  “Hmm,” she sighed. “Then it may not be for me. I do not know if I favor men.”

  We all regarded her curiously, even Agnes, who appeared quite surprised.

  “Do you favor women?” I asked.

  “Nay, not particularly,” she said.

  This admission caused her already rosy cheeks to flush, and she gave Agnes a quick glance. The other girl was blushing too. I recalled Agnes’ lovely portraiture of Christine, and a suspicion flared to life. Agnes either favored women in general, or Christine in specific.

  “You experience no interest or arousal upon considering either men or women?” I asked.

  Gaston grinned at the horizon. Of course I had once asked him a similar set of questions.

  Christine was glaring at me. “I do not choose to.”

  I wondered if there were horrors lurking in her history. “Why?”

  “Because if I surrender to lust or love, I am surely lost. My girlish heart will likely lead me to the altar, or worse, like a lamb to slaughter.”

  “Ah.” I was relieved. It was merely her earlier concerns.

  “Well, now that that aspect has been resolved,” I teased, “you are free to explore the other.”

  She snorted. “I suppose so. Your friend Peter Wolf is very handsome.”

  Gaston and I laughed.

  “Is he the one you told me of?” she asked. “You said that Striker had a matelot that must be seen.”

  “Aye, Pete is the one,” I said with a grin. “And he does not favor women in the least.”

  “Pity,” she said with feigned arrogance. She sighed. “In truth, I do favor men. I find you handsome.”

  She threw a guilty look toward Gaston and Agnes.

  My matelot was thoughtful. Agnes was timid and withdrawn again.

  “Let us teach you to shoot,” Gaston said to Agnes.

  “Now?” she squeaked, and cast a frantic look to Christine.

  “Now,” he said, and got a good grip on her wrist and towed her into the woods.

  “I wish he had not done that,” Christine said.

  “This taking of a wife is a new and uncomfortable concept for us.”

  She screwed her eyes closed and gave an exasperated sigh. “It is so unfair. To all of us.”

  “Aye,” I sighed. “I have considered abandoning my title many times.”

  “Then why do you not?” she asked.

  “Gaston finds merit in it, and the idea of children, and… there is thought that I can do good with it.”

  She nodded. “I can see where that would be true. Power is power.”

  “As we all have aims that can be met by this, let us make the best of it. I do not mean to tease you about men. I wish you to know that I am skilled with women, and I will make what we must do as pleasant as it can be without love. Not that I do not have respect and admiration for you, but obviously we do not love one another, and… never mind. I hope you understand.”

  “I understand,” she said thoughtfully. “Would you do me a favor this minute? Since we are alone. Please kiss me. I have been kissed before and found it unpleasant.”

  I lifted her chin with a finger, and gently lowered my mouth to hers. I had forgotten how soft a woman’s skin and lips are. She pressed back with endearing and naïve earnestness. I slipped an arm around her waist, and asked for a little more, and she soon parted her teeth. She initially recoiled at the feel of my tongue, but I quickly seduced hers into playing. And then she was clinging to me with sweet sighs. I caressed her, even brushing over her bound breasts with stiff fingers until I found her nipples. She squirmed in my arms with little sounds, and sucked my kiss even deeper. I had not expected her to rise to passion so quickly, and my manhood strained to see this new playmate.

  I finally decided I must stop; else I would throw her to the sand and take what should be saved until after the ceremony. Once released, she pulled away with shame-filled eyes and flaming cheeks.

  “Well, I see our wedding night will be enjoyable for both of us,” I said gently.

  “Apparently,” she said tightly. “As I seem to be quite wanton.”

  “Oh, hush,” I chided. “Men enjoy sex. If you want what men have, you should surely claim that pleasure as well.”

  This thankfully brought a small smile. “I suppose so.” She took a deep breath, and finally met my gaze with a curious frown. “Do you find me as arousing as I apparently find you?”

  “Aye.” I snatched her hand and pressed it to my crotch.

  She gasped and pulled away. Then with arms tightly crossed, she asked, “May I see it?”

  With a chuckle, I freed my manhood from my breeches.

  She regarded it for a time with impassive features, and then shook her head. “I do not see how it shall fit inside me.”

  I laughed. “Lady, I have never understood how your sex gives birth. My cock is quite a bit smaller than a baby.”

  She laughed with me. “True.”

  I tucked my disappointed member away.

  She was searching my face. “I am scared. Not of that… but…”

  “You should be. Marriage has serious consequences, and especially considering your reservations on the matter, I would think you a fool if you did not face it with some trepidation.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “So, the day after tomorrow you will speak to my father. I would imagine we could be married a day or two after, and then… we shall consummate the marriage, and then you wil
l sail.”

  “Aye. I imagine your life will be much as it was before my arrival, with the exception that you will have daily calisthenics to perform and the building of a house to design and oversee.”

  “I would be allowed to do that?” she asked enthusiastically.

  “I do not see why not. It will be your house,” I said.

  “And you will live in it when you are in port?” she asked with guarded eyes.

  “Aye.”

  “With Gaston?” Her tone was quite careful.

  “Aye.” I frowned. “Truly, do you take issue with that?”

  “Nay, why should I?” she said quickly.

  She would not look at me. We were now within sight of Fort Rupert, and there were others about. I did not feel I could press her on it. Gaston and Agnes joined us. He would not look at me either. I wondered what he had seen.

  “Gaston said I might actually be able to injure someone,” Agnes said with pride, and brandished one of my matelot’s pistols.

  “If she does not close her eyes while firing,” Gaston added with good humor. “We should go by Massey’s and find a smaller piece for her.”

  “Can it wait until tomorrow?” I asked. “They should rest their feet.”

  “Nay, let us do it today,” Christine said brightly. “I have never been to a gunsmith’s.”

  And so we trudged to Massey’s and introduced the “lads”. He did indeed have smaller bored pistols with petite grips. They were pieces designed to be easily secreted under a man’s coat or in a boot. Gaston purchased two for each of them, and the necessary shot and powder.

  Once outside, Agnes asked that we keep hers until the matter of her living arrangements could be resolved. I assured her we would see her on the morrow.

  We parted company at the corner of Queen and Lime, and the girls hurried away to secretly change clothes in a back room of the Vines’ warehouse before dragging themselves home.

  Gaston and I were at last alone.

  “Did you assuage her fears?” Gaston asked.

  “Oui. I kiss…”

  His fingers were on my lips. “I do not wish to know.”

  I nodded, and pulled him to me on the busy street to kiss him thoroughly. As most around us were buccaneers, no one made comment.

  Gaston had responded well enough, but he was somber when I released him. “Let us go to Theodore’s.”

  “And then what?” I teased.

  “We have matters of our regimen to attend to.”

  “I will always much prefer that over what I found necessary to do earlier,” I assured him.

  He frowned, and adopted the look of annoyed wonder I find so endearing.

  We stopped by the house and found Striker, Pete, Cudro, Liam and Otter in the afternoon shade of the yard.

  “I have located a housekeeper,” I announced.

  They all cheered and toasted.

  “Her name is Agnes,” I continued, “and she is quite young, and not experienced. But I feel she will be able to keep the place from burning down, and the dogs fed while we rove. She promises to learn to bake pies and cake.”

  This brightened Pete, but he was still leery. “SheBeMean? SheLikeDahgs? SheKnowThey LiveInThaHouse?”

  “Nay, aye, and aye,” I said quickly. “She is truly a timid little thing, not at all like Mistress Theodore.”

  “ThenIBeNice.”

  I smiled. “That would be appreciated.”

  I wanted to add that she was an artist and might wish to draw him, but that would tip our hand that she had seen him before. I decided that could reveal itself in time, as could our other news of the day. I realized I did not wish to tell them I was to marry.

  “We all went by Theodore’s and signed the papers,” Cudro said. “And I have petitioned for citizenship as well.” He sounded no more pleased with that than Gaston had.

  “Gaston did not wish to,” I told him, “because he felt he might be compelled to wear wool and be steadfast.”

  I looked to Otter, as he was also Dutch.

  “I am already an English citizen,” he said quietly.

  “An’ we were granted land near the Yallahs, fur comin’ ’ere with those idiots, Penn an’ Venables,” Liam added. “But we seen it only the once. We not be the farmin’ kind. Theodore said we could ’ave new with all o’ ya, an’ still keep tha other, an’ it be likely none be the wiser.”

  Striker sighed and took another pull on the bottle before speaking. “We’re becoming civilized, Will. But I do not think it will be a bother just yet. Theodore suggested that all of us with matelots have proper testaments drawn up, so that our matelots inherit within the law if it comes to that.”

  I nodded. “Aye, Gaston and I have done so.”

  “It will not all be resolved before we sail,” Striker said.

  “No matter, as of yet.” That was a lie. If I was to be married before we sailed, it mattered quite a bit.

  We sat with them and shared the rest of the bottle, talking of pleasant things. Then we made our way to Theodore’s at dusk.

  I gave our good friend the news of my impending nuptials at dinner, and he crowed appreciatively.

  “Oh, Will, I am quite pleased,” Theodore said. “In what little I have seen of her, I think she is a fine choice. I am sure her father will be amenable. I am sure yours will, too, once the deed is done and he is informed of it.”

  I snorted. “I actually think he will be rather angry that I thwarted him, and will ask you directly if she is indeed a real person and a woman.”

  He waved me off. “Be that as it may, I am sure all will be well, or at least better than the alternative.”

  “There is another matter. I have located a housekeeper.” I explained Agnes’ plight and our wish to purchase her.

  “So I will need a bondsman contract drawn up so that I can present it to her father,” I concluded.

  “Nay, you will not,” Theodore said with a grin. “From what you have said, it is likely you will wish to burn the man’s house down, or worse, in the name of justice. I will negotiate with her father and see to it. It is only proper that a Lord send a solicitor to do such a thing.”

  I was amused. “Ah, of course. I will leave it in your hands, then. Will you speak for me to Sir Christopher as well?”

  “Nay,” he said flatly, and returned to cutting his meat.

  An hour later, we were finally able to retreat behind a closed door. Gaston had been quiet and withdrawn while at our house and at dinner. I embraced him from behind as he turned up the lamp.

  “If you, at any time, say you do not wish for me to pursue this, it will stop,” I murmured.

  He sighed, and lolled his head back upon my shoulder.

  “Non. I am not against it,” he said.

  I kissed the bruise I had made on his neck. With a start, I remembered that I was similarly marked. I wondered if I should attempt to hide it from Sir Christopher, I had surely not thought to hide it from his daughter. I was amazed Theodore had not chided me for it. Of course, when I met with my future father-in-law, I would be expected to dress like a gentleman, and that might serve to disguise it.

  I found myself cursing, and I left Gaston and doffed my weapons to hurl them onto the trunk.

  “Will?”

  “I swore I would not do this,” I growled. “I do not wish to live a lie. I am yours. Why is that not enough?”

  “I will not force you,” Gaston said guiltily.

  I sighed, and tried to calm myself. “I am not angry with you. I am… I saw your mark, and realized I must hide mine before seeing her damn father, and it…”

  He nodded. “She does not seem pleased with the prospect, either. But as with all of us, her protestations relate to the unfairness of how we are expected to be a thing we are not. I feel it may still be best that the three of us are united in this, because of that common injustice. She is like us, a creature that has become something she was not born to be.”

  I found that curious. “Do you feel she is a fello
w centaur?”

  He shrugged and doffed his weapons. “Perhaps not, but some mythic thing, as she is not wolf or sheep.”

  “An Amazon perhaps,” I sighed.

  He smiled, but quickly grew thoughtful again. “I pity her. I have not known enough women to consider how poor their lot in life is.”

  “I have known many women, and not looked at it through the eyes of one who was dissatisfied with it before. Most are happy being sheep, or cows perhaps.”

  “Well, we will liberate this one, as best we can,” he said resolutely.

  “Oui,” I sighed. “I suppose that will be the good of it. That is what I considered when I resolved to ask for her hand this day. I will endeavor to remember it when I speak to her father, while pretending to be a thing that I am not.”

  He grinned. “Oui, you must don your wolf’s clothing once again. I would now like to see you as a naked centaur. We have things to do this night.”

  “Do we?” I teased.

  “Oui, we still have our regimen to attend to.”

  “Ah, and nothing more?”

  “After that,” he said seriously, “I wish for you to make it all go away, as you always do.”

  I nodded and stripped. He did likewise. He retrieved the sack with the whip and set it on the bed between us. I almost asked him if he was sure he wished to do that this night, but I saw the determination in his eyes, and held my tongue.

  “Should I reveal it?” I asked.

  “Please.”

  I was not eager. The last time he saw a whip of this type in my presence I ended up with a knife in my belly.

  I upended the sack, and the coiled whip dropped onto the bed linen. He stared at it. I watched him. He did not seem prone to a fit of madness. I offered him my hand and he took it. Several minutes passed.

  “Should I speak?” I asked.

  “Please.”

  “Is it the type that struck you?”

  He nodded. “I have been struck by many things, but this is like the one my father used.”

  “What else have you been struck with?” I asked.

  He considered the question seriously. “One headmaster was fond of a paddle, another a belt. With that one I forgot that sitting did not involve discomfort after the first month. I was always tender. I have been struck by birch rods, quirts, and a turnip in a stocking.”