Within a Captain's Hold

by Lisa A. Olech

  His hair and beard were peppered white. A scar sliced his cheek in a silvery curve from eyebrow to chin.

  “Fin Willy, what brings an ugly bilge-swiller like yourself to soil my decks?”

  “Came to see if you’ve come to yer senses and are ready to give me back my ship. The Scarlet should rightly be mine, and ye know it. A barnacled blowfish like ye shouldn’t have a ship this fine.”

  “Over my dead body, ye bald-arsed cur.”

  “Scurvied whore.”

  “Diseased flea off a wharf rat’s balls.”

  The men shared a fierce embrace and pounded one another hard on the back. “Jaxon.”

  “Fin. It’s been too long. Word was you were haunting the African coast.”

  Fin nodded. “That’s where I’m heading, but I’m glad to have crossed yer path. I’ve some news that concerns ye.”

  “Me?”

  “Aye, ye,” he nudged Jaxon with an elbow, “and I’ll bet ye can ply me with enough brandy to get it out of me.”

  “Why should I waste good liquor on gossip backwash?”

  “Because ye know if it was just gossip, I wouldn’t be wasting my time talking to a foul mug like yers.”

  Jaxon frowned. Something in Fin’s tone concerned him, but whatever it was, Fin obviously didn’t want to discuss it within earshot of the crew. He hesitated only long enough to catch Cookie’s eye. An almost imperceptible nod of the man’s head told Jaxon what he needed to know. Annalise was hidden. “You know the way.”

  “Oh, no.” Fin bowed again. “After ye, Captain Steele.”

  Entering the cabin, Jaxon made a quick scan and confirmed Annalise was out of sight, but somehow, her presence still filled the room. He smelled her sweetness. Could Fin smell her too? The man dropped into a chair and kicked his absurd boots onto the corner of the desk. Jaxon breathed a sigh of relief, pulled a cut crystal decanter from its snug holder, and poured each of them a healthy amount. As he handed Fin his glass, a long, fiery thread of silken hair caught his eye. In a covert sweep, he snatched it from the chair and dropped it to the floor behind his desk.

  “Here’s to fair winds in our sails, full chests in our hold, and lusty wenches in our beds.” Fin raised his glass and drained it in one swallow.

  Jaxon did the same then splashed some more into each of their glasses. “So, what’s so important?”

  “It’s a fine sight to see ye again, Kipper.”

  Jaxon chuckled at the nickname. “You’re the only one who still dares call me that.”

  “I’m the only one who still remembers the day we fished ye out of the harbor looking like a bony little fish.”

  Jaxon refilled their glasses and settled back into his chair. The last thing he wanted to do was revisit the past. He shot a glance across the room. Annalise would hear every word of this. He frowned, not wanting to care what she knew about his history, but finding he cared more than he dared to admit.

  Fin continued, “I’d never seen someone beaten so badly and thrown into that wharf’s filth live to tell the tale.”

  “If it weren’t for Captain Hargrave, I wouldn’t have.”

  “How old were ye?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Scrawny, bruised, and stinking. A sad sight ye were. Told Hargrave we should have thrown ye back.” He drained his glass and poured more brandy himself. “And look at ye now, captain of the Scarlet Night.”

  Jaxon spoke into his glass. “That was a long time ago, and I’ve fought for every inch.”

  “Every inch, I know. There isn’t another commander that doesn’t respect and fear ye for that, too. Ye fight like a man possessed. I’ve seen ye battle like ye was hoping to die.”

  “Not hoping. Expecting.”

  “Yet, here ye are at the top of the heap.” Fin raised his glass again. “Ye’ve earned it.” He drank. “But ye do know the dangers at the top. Some have their reasons for wanting to see ye fall.” Fin tapped the side of his nose.

  Jaxon narrowed his eyes. “What are you trying to say?”

  “Bonchette.”

  The name cut like a knife. ‘Blood-Eye’ Bonchette the captain of the Sea Dragon. They’d crossed swords before. The man was one of the vilest pirates on the seas. Never gave quarter or took prisoners, and he’d kill an unarmed man without hesitation. Earned his nickname by stabbing his cabin boy in the eye for spilling his ale. Jaxon flipped his hand like he was swatting a fly. “What’s the greasy bastard want?”

  “Yer head. He’s gunning for ye. Something about ye moving into the governor’s new house for the season? And the swiftness of ye securing yer letters of marque? He thinks the Earl of Carlisle has something to do with yer sudden rise in the king’s favor.” Fin raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t, does he?”

  Jaxon’s jaw tightened at the mention of the good Earl. “How does Bonchette know about Carlisle?”

  “I don’t bloody know.” Fin cocked his head and gave Jaxon a stare. “Ye didn’t answer my question.”

  Jaxon stood and shrugged. Fin knew him. He could read him too well. Jaxon showed him his back. “I haven’t seen Carlisle in near twenty years. The man wouldn’t piss on me if my carcass was on fire.”

  “Bonchette’s telling a different tale. He’s spouting to everyone in Port Royal who’ll listen to his mad rants that he’s done fighting for yer scraps. Says ye and yer crew are dead men and the Scarlet Night’s going to leave a nice red stain on the bottom of the ocean.”

  “And you’re here to warn me?” Jaxon swirled the brandy in his glass, letting the amber liquid catch the glow of lantern light before drinking.

  “Ye’ve fought the man before. Ye know what he’s like. His brain’s curdled. He’s a loose cannon, and ye’ve topped the list of his targets.”

  Jaxon faced him. “He doesn’t scare me.”

  “I didn’t think he would. I almost pity the bastard if he thinks he can best ye.” Fin held his gaze. “Just watch yer back.”

  “I always do. You taught me well.”

  “See ye do. I’d hate to have to avenge yer sorry arse.” Fin poured the last drop of brandy from the decanter. He began moving about the cabin, lifting chest lids, rummaging through things. Jaxon was quick to move between him and Annalise’s hiding place.

  “Besides, Bonchette has lousy taste in brandy, and I enjoy stealing yers.” Fin pulled open the desk drawer. “What have we here? Nice ring. Did we pillage a lord?” Fin held up Anna’s ring. Jaxon heard the slightest movement behind him.

  “The brandy you’re trying so hard to find is behind you.” He kicked a heel against the bed frame in warning. He watched as Fin slipped the ring on. It spun around his finger.

  “I’d have stolen this too, had it fit.”

  “You’re lucky to be getting my liquor.”

  “Ye still owe me for saving yer sorry life. What’s a little brandy?”

  “It’ll be worth every drop to get you and those ugly boots the hell off my ship.”

  Fin dropped the ring back into the drawer. “What’s wrong with my boots?”

  “They’re blue. Are those golden octopi on them or fish barf?”

  “Octopus. What’s wrong with that?” Fin pointed a finger into his face. “Ye’re still a pain in my arse. This is the thanks I get for warning ye about Bonchette?”

  Jaxon shook his head and watched as Fin grabbed four bottles of his best brandy. “If I add a bottle of lousy rum, would you be leaving any sooner, you gossiping sot?”

  “I’m taking my boots and leaving, ye dried-up sea hag. Keep yer lousy rum.”

  On deck, Jaxon watched as Fin threw the bottles of brandy across the watery gap between the ships, cursing at the sailor on the other side. He warned him if he dropped them, he’d feed him the broken glass for breakfast.

  “Mighty good to see ye, Kipper.”

  Jaxon couldn’t tell whether the rising seas were causing Fin’s rolling gait or the bottle of brandy he drank. “I wish I could say the
same.” He slapped the man on the back.

  Fin put a hand to his shoulder and leaned into him. “Do ye ever wonder what it would be like to leave all this behind?” He swept the watery landscape with his hand.

  “That’s my brandy talking.”

  “Nay, boy, I’m serious. If I had me a lusty wench to put up with me for more than a fortnight, I might just find me a bit of beach and watch the sea from the other side for once.”

  “Now I know it’s the brandy talking. Besides, what wench would have ye?”

  “I don’t fancy leaving my ship with cannon balls tied to my ankles. I’m getting old. I drink too much. And I’ve watched too many good men like you get slipped over the rail.” He took an unsteady step onto the boarding ladder. “Mind what I said about Bonchette.”

  “Mind you don’t drop into the waves. And for God’s sake, get rid of those damn boots.”

  Cookie was at Jaxon’s side as they bid farewell to the White Witch. “Did Fin Willy just say Bonchette?”

  “Aye.”

  “What’s that butcher up to?”

  “Seems he’s planning how best to kill me.”

  Cookie shot him a glance.

  “He’s out to kill us and scuttle the Night.”

  “I’d like to see him try.”

  Jaxon scowled. “I’m thinking you might just get your wish.”

  CHAPTER 14

  The night lantern burned low as it swung in a gentle rock. The seas were up tonight and the Scarlet Night danced and dipped into the wee hours of the morning. Annalise walked the rolling floor of the cabin thinking over what she’d learned from Jaxon’s visitor. What was his connection to the Earl of Carlisle, and why would another man want to kill him because of it?

  The waves rose. Annalise braced herself for the storm to build, but the winds never changed. She waited, too, for Jaxon to make his nightly visit hoping he’d be as unchanged as the winds. She gathered her courage. There was much she wanted to discuss with him--if she could ever get him in the same room.

  At the soft scrape of the key in the lock, Annalise lay down and feigned sleep. Jaxon entered, pulled a fresh shirt from a cupboard, and striped to his waist. After pouring wash water, he scooped handfuls and splashed them over his face.

  He braced his hands on either side, and stood over the washbowl for a long moment. Water ran off his arms. His shoulders lifted and fell as he drew a deep breath and released it. He looked so tired. Anna longed to sweep a comforting hand over his bronzed shoulders.

  She stood on silent feet. “Jaxon?”

  He shot a glance over his shoulder and grabbed for a towel to wipe his face. “Go back to sleep, Annalise.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He lowered the towel and stared at her. His eyes were dark in the dim light of the room. “What are you sorry for?”

  “Everything. I’ve put you in such jeopardy. I’ve only added to the weight of your duties. I’ve taken over your cabin and your bed. I cannot imagine where you’re sleeping. And the last time…When we spoke last and I kissed you the way I did, I shouldn’t have. It’s just--”

  “Go back to sleep.” He turned away from her and started to soap his jaw to shave.

  Anna hesitated and chewed at her lip. “Who was that man earlier?”

  He sighed. “Captain Williams.”

  “He’s a friend?”

  “Of a sort.” He lifted his chin and brushed foam below his jaw line.

  “He’s worried the other man, Bondshay, is going to kill you.”

  “Bonchette.”

  “Yes, Bonchette. Aren’t you worried?”

  “No.” His answers were clipped and blunt. He opened the straight razor and began scraping the dark stubble from his cheeks. “Go back to bed, Annalise.”

  She watched him shave. “How is the Earl of Carlisle involved?”

  Jaxon flinched as the sharp blade nicked his skin. “Blast it all, woman.”

  “My father knew the Earl of Carlisle,” she rushed. “I met him and his daughter when I was young. Her name is Gwendolyn, I think. Are you and the Earl connected somehow?”

  He put down his razor. Soapy lather still clung to one side of his face. He held a finger to the small wound on his chin and shot her a cold stare. “He bedded my mother.”

  “Oh.” She nodded and held onto the alcove as the ship rocked. “Wait. He what? Are you saying he’s your father?”

  He turned away. “No. He’s nothing to me. He dallied with a young innocent servant, promised her a sterling world, but only planted a bastard in her belly before he tossed her aside.”

  “You.”

  “Yes.” He blew out an angry breath. “Are you done with your questions?” he snapped, taking up his razor again.

  “Is that why you have your rule? The one about virgins? Because of your mother?”

  Jaxon dropped his razor into the bowl with a sharp clatter and snatched up his towel. “Dammit all. Enough of this inane prattle.” He wiped the remaining soap from his face and threw the towel on the washstand. “You are the most infuriating female I’ve ever known. I beg you, let me gather my things and leave without any further conversation.”

  Annalise was once again surprised at the shortness of his fuse. This would not bode well for approaching him regarding her plan. “But--”

  He glared at her. The muscle in his cheek jumped and his hands curled into fists. “Woman, you would try the patience of a saint, and I am no saint.”

  “But I think I’ve come up with a solution to our problem.”

  “The only problem we have is being in each other’s company for more than ten minutes without me wanting to turn you over my knee.”

  “I wish you would stop treating me like an errant two-year-old.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Be careful of what you ask.”

  “I think you and I should be wed.” Annalise blurted it out before she lost her nerve. She held her breath, waiting for the outburst sure to come next, but the only thing to follow was silence. “Did you hear me?”

  He stopped dressing and held tight to the clean shirt in his hand.

  “I know it sounds absurd, but if you give the matter some consideration… I’ve mulled this over for days, and I believe it to be a sound bargain. If you and I were married, Wolfsan’s threat would cease. My hand comes with a title and an entailed estate with enough land and money to more than compensate you for my passage. We could sail to Port St. Maria, meet up with Alice, marry there, and return to London.” Anna knew she was rambling, but his dark stare unnerved her.

  “After you have made an appearance as the new lord of the Gatherone lands, and put the business of my hand to rest, we could make the proper accusations against the duke. He’s sure to be jailed at the very least, and hanged if there is any justice at all. Afterward, Alice and I can live our lives and you can return to the sea, or whatever you wish, a very rich man. You can own a fleet of ships, if you want.” Annalise wrung her hands.

  The only sound came from the steady creak of the ship as it navigated the churning sea. Jaxon had not moved.

  “Of course, it would be a marriage of convenience. There would be no need to violate your rules. I would draw a small allowance from the estate for my personal needs, and I’d be happy to live in one of the smaller country homes. There a staff of four or five could see to our needs. You would be free to sail off and never see me again. We’d simply go our separate ways.” Her mouth went dry as he just stood there silent. Say something, damn you.

  “It’s a sane plan that benefits us both, don’t you think? I’d be safe to return to what remains of my life, and you could return to yours, but as a wealthy lord.”

  Annalise stopped her chattering. Her heart beat like a trapped bird as Jaxon dropped his shirt and folded his arms across his bare chest. He stood for a time appraising her.

  “Well?” she snapped. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

  He shrugged. “What
is there to say? You’ve obviously thought through everything. Tell me, you’d be comfortable wedding a pirate? A thief? A murderer? A bastard?”

  “I never said the bargain came without cost.”

  He gave a short bark of laughter. “Ah, yes, let’s speak of that cost. You want me to walk away from my ship and my crew to play nursemaid to you, be your guard, live in your company as man and wife, and not bed you? After which, I am required to risk my neck by getting you to Port St. Maria then escort you and your friend back to England, where I’ll be mired in legal and estate matters for more than a year. What do you suppose I have my crew do in my absence? Lie about on the beach and tan their skin?”

  “I suppose I didn’t consider your crew.”

  “Nay, you didn’t.”

  “Perhaps Cookie could run things in your stead.”

  He shook his head. “Promoted from cook to captain? It doesn’t work like that.”

  He spoke to her as if she were some kind of dimwit.

  So there were some things she hadn’t fully considered. “Fine. Forget I said anything at all. I was only trying to come up with some way out of this intolerable situation.” Why did she always end up flustered?

  Annalise raised her chin and moved to pass him. She was a fool. What possessed her to think he would ever agree to such a plan? Wed her? Obviously, he believed her stupid. He couldn’t even stand to be near her.

  The ship made a slow roll as it dipped into a deep trough. Anna faltered and a strong pair of arms reached out to steady her. He pulled her back tight to his chest. The bare heat of his skin radiated through her shirt and the spice of his shaving soap tickled her nose.

  Jaxon spoke low with a light rasp to his voice. “What makes you think I would ever agree to a marriage of convenience with you?” His breath blew warm on the nape of her neck, causing a shiver of nerves and raw desire to tremble through her. “If you were my wife, there would be no question as to the consummation of our marriage.” His lips brushed the outer shell of her ear. “I would demand it.” His words were whispered and hot against her hair. His hands moved over the flat front of her stomach and back to skim her breasts. “Often.”