The Sea's Rough Magic

by Alicia C Graybill

  “Aaron, Aaron, my Aaron,” McSwain’s taunt always angered him then the fear would hit. He whirled around and slammed himself backwards into the doors when he realized McSwain stood within bare inches of him, his leering face poked as close to him as possible. “You’re an ingrate.”

  Aaron fumbled for the doorknob but it wouldn’t turn when he found it. Cursing his luck, he tried to sidestep Angus. McSwain corralled him with an arm and he could feel the brush of Angus’s velvet greatcoat against his chest. “Leave me be, Angus. Ye have no power over me!”

  For a moment, he was nearly in tears. It was his voice as it used to be, before the abuse of his captivity, and he prayed he could keep it even after this dream—for that was what this had to be—ended. Angus laughed and twined his hand into Aaron’s nightshirt, shaking him slightly so that he bumped repeatedly into the door. “Mebbe not, whelp, but ye’re lettin’ me hurt ye, aren’t you? Think you deserve it, don’t ye?”

  Aaron said nothing, slapping at Angus's hand in a vain attempt to move it. "Stop!"

  "Answer me, whelp," Angus's voice had dropped to a hiss and he was now grinning, certain of the answer. "Ye deserve t' be miserable, don't ye?"

  “I do,” Aaron whispered the confession. “If I’d just been a little quicker or-or maybe a bit cagier, Henry might still be here. It’s my fault.”

  Angus laughed and slid his hand up to seize Aaron’s throat, lifting him so that he was on his toes then leaning in to lick a trail of spit up his cheek from his jaw. “An’ so it is. Guilt’s mighty becomin’ on you, always was. It always made me want ye more when I saw ye with the Lash after we’d been together. Don’t know which I liked better—you guilty or you beggin’. Either way, I’ve missed ye, lover. ‘Tis past time fer me t’ have some tail, eh?”

  “No,” Aaron tried to say but his throat was too dry for a sound to come out. He couldn’t get his arms to work either so there was nothing he could do while he felt Angus stripping the linen cloth from his body.

  Abruptly, the door behind him opened and he was falling through it. He stiffened, anticipating how much it would hurt to land on a hard floor. Instead, he felt the cushion of soft bedding and the give of leather support straps as he tumbled into the Maid’s bunk. Atop him was the Lash, not Angus, and he couldn’t help himself. He dug his fingernails into Henry’s back, trying to pull him as close as possible, maybe even inside his own skin. The feel of Henry making love to him was unadulterated joy and he tried to maneuver around so he could see his lover’s face.

  Instead, he heard Henry speak. “Listen, love, ye need t’ let me go. I cannot be here for you but yer Jamie is. He needs you now; I don’t. I’ll love ye till the end of time, darlin’, but you have someone else t’ consider.”

  “Don’t leave me,” Aaron whimpered.

  "Never!" The voice that answered was not Henry's, nor were the green eyes that regarded him with passion and affection. "I must do my duty but I will always come back to you. I didn't spend years looking for you to let you slip away so easily, my Raven."

  "But ye're still an ingrate!" McSwain spoke from the door of the captain's cabin. He entered by banging the door hard open then slamming it shut, as he always did when he had Aaron as his prisoner. The sounds made Aaron go cold with fear and, to his horror, James was gone.

  "And what would ye have me be grateful for, McSwain?" Aaron was shocked at himself for answering back and even more surprised that he rose from the bed to confront Angus head on. "Ruinin' my life? Killin' my lover? Destroyin' my ship?!"

  "None of it, ye fool," McSwain answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "The fact that ye're an ungrateful cockroach means naught t' me. But t' him--might be a different matter."

  Angus gestured to the bed that Aaron had just left and he turned to see James sleeping soundly there. His brown hair was tousled and the forelock had drifted down across his brow in a way that made Aaron want to brush it back. His face, which could be so stern and forbidding when awake, was soft and almost cherubic with all pretense stripped away. James licked his lips and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing delicately, and Aaron had to blink tears away. Was he really so ungrateful? He couldn't acquiesce to one simple request?

  "'Tis not simple," Aaron turned back to see McSwain regarding him. "It'd be jus' a different kind of prison. 'Stead of a gaoler, though, it'd be a husband."

  "See? Thankless cur," McSwain laughed, the sound making Aaron cringe. "Callin' spendin' your life with one who loves ye as much as he does a prison. Poor navy. An' after all he's done fer you. An' fer Ike Stern, might I add. Took care o' ye both when he could have just tossed ye out on yer ears. D' ye think a virile young man like that keeps hisself chaste fer moral reasons? 'Cause he ain't been with anybody other than you since he rescued ye from me. Not t' mention that little piece o' business, hmmm?"

  "He was doin' his duty, like any good officer does," Aaron retorted but the words sounded weak to his own ears. "Don't know why he let me and the lad stay as long as he did."

  "Ye feckless dog!" McSwain grabbed him by the throat, this time deliberately squeezing his neck as hard as he could. "He loves ye! He'd walk through the pits o' hell fer ye, ye bloody mopus! At least give 'is plan a try--how else can ye repay him fer his love?"

  )O(

  Aaron woke with a start, breathing hard and rubbing at his throat. James was apparently awake and watching him. "Are you all right?"

  Aaron nodded and pushed the bedclothes off him so he could sit up. The moon had set and the sun was still well below the horizon so the room was dark except for the embers from the fire. They didn't cast any light but Aaron rose and went to the fireplace to warm his feet. After a few seconds, he heard James move.

  "Aaron?"

  "Fine, love," Aaron managed to answer, his throat aching with the effort.

  Dunbar sighed, relief apparent even though he couldn't see the younger man. After a moment, James spoke again. "I didn't mean--What I mean to say is that it was never my intention to-to insult you or . . . Blast! If it bothers you so much, please forget I ever asked. We'll find some other way. Perhaps I can pass you off as a valet or--."

  "Nah," Aaron finally replied, cutting James off. "I'm known pretty well in Nassau. One of me misadventures, as it were. I'd be recognized."

  "Oh," James voice was tight with emotion. For a second, Aaron thought about going to him, telling him that he would be better served leaving Aaron behind, but something held him in place. Instead, it was James who left the room. Aaron waited until the sun had almost fully risen but James didn't return.

  Guilt finally forced Aaron to dress and go downstairs in search of Dunbar. He was greeted by Rodney, who gave him a grim look. "He's already gone to the fort. He didn't look happy, Captain, not at all."

  Aaron nodded and made a gesture in the air indicating that he could probably hazard a guess as to the reason. He went into the dining room and seized the plate that was waiting him to take it into the kitchen. He had something to discuss with Rosemarie.

  )O(

  Chapter 32:

  Erin Petit

  When James Dunbar arrived at his home that evening, he put a brave face on the situation, prepared to do whatever necessary to convince Aaron that they could make this work. He opened the door and, after a moment, Rodney appeared, dressed in full livery. "Captain, we have a guest for dinner tonight. Lieutenant Chambers awaits you in the salon."

  For a moment, James was confused. "I don't recall inviting--."

  "He was invited, sir. I'll bring you a sherry until dinner is served," Rodney suddenly let a smile slide across his face but it disappeared before James could understand what was going on. "Trust me, sir, have a drink with the Lieutenant."

  James shook his head, entirely too puzzled about the whole thing. He headed into the salon to greet Ellis, who was in his full dress uniform. At his look of surprise, Ellis laughed. "It befits an officer to dress for dinner, sir. Especially when invited to dine with his commanding officer."

  "Invited?"
James asked and took the glass of liquor as soon as Rodney appeared with it. "Rodney, what's going on?"

  "I'm not at liberty to say, sir," Rodney replied with a shrug and bowed out the door, shutting it behind him.

  "What's going on?" James turned back to Chambers, suspecting that he knew more than he let on.

  "All I know," Ellis said gently. "Is that I received this earlier this afternoon while doing an inspection of the armory, which is in excellent condition though we might look into adding some additional short-swords to our complement."

  He extended a white sheet of paper to James which was snapped up and immediately read. The text was short and pointed. "You are invited to dine in formal style with Commodore James Dunbar at his home this evening. Please arrive no later than 6:00 p.m."

  "Do you recognize the handwriting?" Ellis asked him. "Because I don't."

  James' eyes narrowed and he started to answer when Rodney opened the door. "Captain Dunbar, if you would please join me here in the foyer."

  Downing the remainder of his sherry in one gulp, he dropped the invitation on a side table and nearly ran into the foyer. He met Rodney's eyes who merely turned to look up at the stairs. James followed his gaze.

  Standing near the top of the stairs was a young woman. He caught the sapphire eyes and realized it was Aaron. Several moments passed as they gazed at each other then James ascended and offered his arm. The dress was out-of-fashion and tattered to a degree at the hem but the color was a deep wine that complemented Aaron's coloring. As Johnson placed his hand delicately on the dark blue wool, James became aware that he smelled heavenly. His hair had been washed thoroughly with rose-scented soap and put up under a long, black wig. A faint wash of sweet, as if from the powder he had used or the lip-paint, wafted to James next. Finally, there was a vague scent of cedar, as if the dress had been pulled from a chest. James led him down the stairs with a definite smirk on his face. As they stepped into the salon together, Chambers looked up.

  "Lieutenant, may I introduce you to my wife?"

  "By God," Was all Chambers could say at first. He was staring openly. It was only when Aaron's eyes met Chambers' that the naval officer was able to compose himself. "Madame, I am honored to be your most humble servant."

  He bowed low before Aaron and tried to regain his nerve. When he stood upright, he finally spared a glance at Dunbar. "And her name is?"

  "Dunbar, of course," James snapped but Aaron understood what Ellis meant.

  "Erin Petit," He said, his voice so hoarse that it destroyed the illusion almost at once. He saw the look change on Chambers' face and looked up at James. "See, love? Tol' ye it wouldn't work. I should jus' leave now, 'fore the trouble starts."

  "No," Chambers couldn't believe his own audacity. "No, this is the perfect solution. I-It's just that we have to come up with a way . . ."

  "My wife is a mute," James said suddenly with an apologetic look at Aaron. "She suffered an illness as a child and it rendered her unable to speak. This must work, Aaron. It must!"

  Aaron sighed and rolled his eyes then adjusted himself through the skirt. The sight caused James to gasp and Chambers to suppress a smile. "Damn petticoats itch like the crabs!"

  It was at that moment that Rosemarie stepped into the salon behind them. "Begging the Commodore's pardon, but I just wanted t' see for myself . . ."

  Aaron turned to look at her and the cook fell silent. Gently, she reached out to cup her hand against his cheek. Aaron didn't flinch away from her and James felt a tiny spark of hope. "Milady."

  "Nay, milady," Rosemarie said gently. "'Tis not proper for the lady of the manor t' address her servants so. If I didn't know better, I'd say an angel fell t' the earth."

  At that, Aaron's face flushed red and he bowed his head. When he looked up at James from the corner of his eyes, the expression caused immediate sensations of lust to run through the younger man. Aaron himself was enticing but Aaron as Erin was positively irresistible. Rosemarie smiled and patted Aaron's hand between hers. After a second, she looked down at the limb.

  "Tut-tut, milady," She shook her head in all seriousness. "That will never do."

  The nails were ragged where Aaron had chewed them off. The skin was permanently marked in spots from powder burns. The palms and fingers were host to a thick crust of calluses that no self-respecting lady would allow. Aaron still wore the wedding band, though, and James prayed it meant that he was serious about this.

  "Can you teach him to care for his hands?" James asked, stepping a bit closer, feeling as if he should take possession of Aaron before someone could make off with him.

  "Of course, sir," Rosemarie said softly but the eyes that raised to meet James' were uncertain. "But these are the hands of a sailor. Perhaps gloves would be best for her ladyship. 'Tis becomin' a fashion, I've heard. Then it wouldn't matter about his-her hands."

  At those words, Aaron started a bit then looked up at James. Without saying a word, Dunbar understood that he was doing this for James and no one else, not even himself. It dawned on James then that Aaron was essentially condemning himself to being Erin for the rest of his life. There was no going back if they pursued this course. For a few seconds, James had the odd urge to tell Aaron to forget the whole notion. But I can't do that, James realized. If he's willing to do this for me, then who am I to refuse?

  "Erin?" He said finally and offered Aaron his arm. "My good woman, is the meal ready?"

  "Aye, sir," Rosemarie answered, beaming at the sight. "The dress was a gift t' me from an admirer many years ago. 'Tweren't proper for me, a cook and maid, to wear such finery but it suits you, milady. Rodney, would ye be so kind as t' escort these fine folk to their meal?"

  Rodney grinned, his eyes also on the couple. "My pleasure. Dinner is served."

  He led them across the foyer and opened the door to the dining room with a flourish. Three places were set and James did as courtesy demanded. He escorted Aaron to the spot generally reserved for the lady of the household and seated him there then sat to Aaron's left. That meant Chambers was across the table from him and to Aaron's right. Rosemarie disappeared into the kitchen then reappeared bearing the evening meal. Rodney served their dinner wine and made sure they were all settled then both servants retreated into the kitchen.

  Chambers waited until they were all comfortably tucked into the meal before he spoke. "So, how is the fair--or beauteous, rather--Mrs. Dunbar supposed to have come to Port Royal from--where is she from?"

  "Port-au-Prince," Aaron replied with an effort. "Good question."

  "Do you speak French?" Chambers asked Aaron after a second.

  "Mais oui," The former pirate answered then continued. "Comme tout pirate qui se respecte, matelot."

  James found himself feeling peculiarly jealous that Aaron was so comfortable speaking with Ellis. Point of fact, he could feel his fists clenching and his jaw thrusting out as he watched them banter. Chambers had been a frequent visitor to the household, especially when he himself had to be away on the Venture, but James had never conceived of the notion that Aaron would feel at ease with the younger officer. He was contemplating rudely interrupting them when he felt a hand creep into his, the fingers twining with his own. It was so entirely ridiculous that he would be jealous suddenly that he had to suppress a shout of laughter. When he slid his other hand over Aaron's, he realized the former pirate was shivering, despite his cheerful demeanor. Ah, my love, you have come so far but you have so far to go, He mused.

  )O(

  Chapter 32:

  The Happy Couple

  When Chambers left it was half past nine. Rosemarie and Rodney were long gone by then and James was comfortably settled on the couch in the salon, Aaron sitting nearby in one of the reading chairs. Aaron put his feet up on the hassock and revealed that he was barefoot. The sight of very male feet poking out from beneath the maroon fabric nearly made James laugh. He'd had a great deal of wine and the relief that Aaron might be able to come with him to Nassau after all was heady in its own
right.

  "You have long toes," James said, barely containing his mirth. "Very long, I might add."

  Aaron narrowed his eyes and glared at him. "No need t' be insultin', love."

  "No, no insult, my Raven," James said and leaned forward suddenly to seize one of the feet. He began to rub at the sole of the foot tenderly. "Long toes are a sign of a long--life, I've been told."

  Without warning, Aaron was twisting and laughing. "Leggo o' me! Dammit, leave me feet be!!"

  "You're ticklish!" James guffawed and redoubled the speed with which he played his fingertips over the sensitive flesh.

  "Am not!" Aaron graveled and used his free foot to shove at James, who ended up tumbling off the davenport and nearly pulling Aaron out of the chair with him, the hassock sliding off to one side.

  Before Aaron could regain his seat in the chair, James caught his knee and pulled him down into the floor. Before Aaron could ask him what he thought he was doing or tell him he was mad, James slid his hand under the skirt, finding the one thing that kept Aaron from being the perfect woman. At the sensation, Aaron gasped and pushed his hips into the caress.

  "Ain't ticklish there, love," Aaron muttered.

  James couldn't fight the wicked leer that lit his face and he pulled himself up so his mouth could meet Aaron's. The sweetness of the lip paint had worn off for the most part but occasionally James could taste it through the wine they had finished after dinner. He fumbled at the buttons on the back of Aaron's dress for a second then found the trick to it and set to with the serious work of removing the garment. As the bodice drifted off, revealing Aaron's scarred chest, he dove down and took one of Aaron's nipples in his mouth. Aaron moaned and dug his fingers into James' back through the greatcoat he still wore. Aaron's hips rode up into his hand then fell away repeatedly even though James had never stopped caressing him.

  "One good point to skirts," James said softly then let his teeth brush across Aaron's other nipple. "Easy access to important ports."