Other Oceans

by Andrea Jones

  It was Hook, now, who was surprised. “Captain?”

  “The lady’s husband has not deserted her. Nor has he any intention of doing so.”

  Hook’s face grew suspicious as he contemplated the canny officer before him. Gradually, his features evened and he drew himself up to his tallest. Smooth as usual, his voice cooled. “I believe, Madam, that ‘best wishes’ are in order.”

  “Thank you, Commodore.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You are, indeed, a crafty woman.”

  “I hope I have done my duty, Sir.”

  “You bound yourself, not to that loose cannon of a surgeon, but to my own sailor.” Hook’s shrewd look fell away, to be replaced with a satisfied smile. “You never disappoint me.”

  “I knew you would wish me to avoid entanglement with Doctor Hanover, Sir. I discussed the situation with Captain Cecco, of course, counting on his loyalty. He agreed that Doctor Hanover must believe himself to be my husband— and that I must remain free of any legal tie to that man. Thanks to Captain Cecco, we own the doctor’s diamonds, we are assured a share of his profits. And best of all, I am unshackled— like you.”

  Cecco nestled Jill’s hand in his own, regarding her with warmth. His feelings were plain to see. “I could not refuse my lady when she proposed marriage. I welcomed it, and, most happily, I took her to be my wife.” On Cecco’s hand glimmered the wedding ring that once was the surgeon’s. “Under this glove, Signora Cecco bears the ring I exchanged for hers.”

  Smee’s color deepened behind his spectacles. He blinked in surprise. Yulunga simply nodded, his face creasing in a knowing smile. He could see there was no danger of things becoming too quiet in this fleet. The truth was out, now, and already his good friend Captain Cecco was stirring up trouble with it. If Cecco survived this affair, he would need his first mate to steady his Italian temperament.

  Still hoping for happiness, Cecco continued. “Commodore, the captain of the Unity obliged us the day we captured his ship. He was persuaded even to order his cabin boy to open a bottle for a toast. Our marriage is entered in the Unity’s log. Her ship’s surgeon signed as witness.”

  “Ah. Indeed.” The commodore maintained an even keel. “You see now why I forbade you to set foot upon any other ship, Jill. It seems each time you do so, you collect another husband.”

  “I apologize, Sir. In pursuing the Roger’s interests, I disobeyed that particular directive. I believed it the most efficient way to win the diamonds. And Sir—” She sparkled like the surgeon’s gems. “We have secured them.”

  “Excellent work, Jill. When I hold them again, I will deal with your defiance.”

  The promise in his eyes made Jill dizzy.

  Increasing the strength of his grip, Cecco brought her back to earth. Knowing his Jill, he gave her time to collect herself while he explained, “The lady and I saw justice in foiling Hanover with his own principles. She is a lawful wife, now. Just…not his own. His other treasure lies in my sea chest, Sir, waiting to be divided among us.”

  “I shall attend to that— Tomorrow.” Hook knew his Jill, too. Half-smiling, he waited for her sense of duty to overcome the effect of his insinuation. Her pulse was pounding, and he knew it.

  She subdued her plunder-lust, and steadied herself. “Captain LeCorbeau learned of our marriage immediately afterward, when he himself boarded the Unity. Before he performed today’s ceremony, LeCorbeau made sure I understood the consequences. But, as I anticipated, he dreaded another delay. He didn’t dare inform the doctor a legal wedding could not take place. As you heard, Commodore, LeCorbeau agreed that Doctor Hanover is more likely to produce our profits if he remains unenlightened.”

  “And so you declined to destroy his marriage lines.” Hook laughed. “Two husbands, Jill! The gypsy and the gentleman.”

  “I’m afraid I am a bigamist. My signature could, indeed, get me hanged— as LeCorbeau is hoping.”

  Hook caught her in his embrace. “He’ll have to capture you first.” The power of his grip, the familiarity of his arms around her, made her weak with joy. “But you shall be safe with me, aboard the Roger.”

  “No, Commodore.” The gypsy’s hand on Jill’s shoulder was equally warm, every bit as possessive. Once again, Captain Cecco was unapologetic. “She will be safe aboard the vessel her husband named for her. My Red Lady.” Cecco drew her from her lover’s arms into his own. With bewitching words, he murmured in her ear, “Lovely one. I know your gypsy heart. Wander with me.”

  “Captain—”

  “The ship is ours. We will sail her together.”

  “But we agreed.”

  “Our accord is dissolved, but not our affection. Bellezza, you will not forget my first kiss.” With no hesitation, Captain Cecco leaned down to embrace his lady.

  But he didn’t lean for long. She floated up to meet him, her feet dangling loose in the air, her arms rising of their own accord to wrap themselves about him. With Cecco’s kiss burning on her lips, Jill remembered every night, every day of their union. She recalled her gaiety in the captain’s quarters of the Unity, the pleasure of her fluttering heart the day she bestowed her hand upon her lover. Her red hand, stained with her blood— and another’s.

  “With grace she flies to my embrace.” Cecco kissed her again, ardently, then lowered her so that her feet brushed the deck. “The perfect woman.”

  Hook strode forward. “I warned you, Captain Cecco, not to test my generosity.” Jill released her husband, turning to look up into the heavenly blue of Hook’s eyes— her own eyes.

  “Madam Red-Hand.” Hook inclined his head. His kiss hung, waiting, inches from her own. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t bend to her. He bided his time. Hook had mastered the art of patience, there in the surgeon’s chains.

  “Hook.” Drawn by his magic, Jill took to the air. She was light as a butterfly. She was nearly level with him. She moved toward him, but he drifted upward. Just off balance, she felt nervous as a fledgling. His hand enfolded hers to steady her. Longing for his kiss, Jill left the ship below, ascending but never coming closer because Hook was rising, too.

  Like a magician, he kept his Jill suspended. As they almost touched, they felt the winds encompass them. He waited, delaying until the moment she could bear his restraint no longer. Then, in a sudden movement, Hook pressed his kiss upon her. Her black silk swirled around his legs, his arms enveloped her while, like their first flight, they forsook the world beneath them.

  Cecco stared up at them. He stepped back. Smee and Yulunga exchanged glances, then watched him warily. His eyes fired, his chest rose and fell with his emotion. The gypsy smile dimmed, this time, perhaps, forever.

  His gaze fell slowly to the base of the mast. The wound Jill inflicted today cut deeper than those of his whipping. Like those marks, this was a scar he would bear for all time. Yet, on his face, a determined look manifested. Captain Cecco was a patient man. He had waited for Jill before— and won her. With an aching heart, Cecco looked up at his angel, and kissed his fingertips. Squaring his shoulders, he began his vigil. One day, his opportunity would come again. And he would seize her.

  A little at a time, Hook and Jill descended. When she felt the deck supporting her, its solidity brought her back to the present. At the foot of the mast, Jill released her lover to speak to her husband. Her voice fell gently. “Captain.”

  Cecco’s dusky eyes clung to her. He said, softly, “You are my heart.”

  “She is my soul.” Standing beside Jill, Hook encircled her shoulders.

  Jill looked down to her golden bracelets. One by one, she removed them. “Captain, I return your belongings.”

  “An insignificant portion. But you won this treasure. It is yours to keep, to remember me.” He slipped the bracelets on her wrist, then he settled his hand on the golden band on her upper arm, the one that matched his own. “But this I will wear, to keep it warm for you.” He pried it open and replaced it on his biceps. Then he took hold of the leather lace at her wrist. “I release you,
until you wish to be bound once again.”

  “It cannot be untied.” Jill felt the chill as the shining hook slid under the leather.

  “Whatever this represents,” Hook said, “it can easily be severed.”

  “No.” Cecco grasped the band in both his hands. “The sacred binding cannot be untied. It must not be severed. But, like our union, it can be stretched.” With the strength of his two hands, Cecco pulled. The leather lace grew longer, thinner, until Jill’s wrist slid easily from its hold. She drew her last glove off, and Cecco did the same to the binding of her other arm. Then, catching her hand, he bent to lay a kiss on her crimson palm. But when he opened it, another glint of gold appeared. Surprised, he raised his gaze. “Madam?”

  “You’re familiar with this earring. It is the commodore’s. The surgeon gave it to me, to persuade me that you were his accomplice.” As Cecco’s face clouded, she laid her hand on his arm. “I didn’t believe him. I have learned to trust in you, always.”

  “Bellezza.”

  “Captain Cecco.” Jill’s heart seared as her joy and sorrow fused.

  “I think, Madam, I am no longer your captain. You will please humor me with the proper form of address.”

  “Yes. You are my—” She smiled, uninhibited this time by his rank, high or humble, “Giovanni.”

  “Lovely one. So full of courage, so true to your word. A woman worth waiting for.” He glanced at Hook before resting his eyes again upon his lady. “And now, I am restrained only by my courtesy, which you have found I hold in abundance. You will care for yourself, and send for me if you are in need.”

  “I will.” She touched his handsome face with her fingertips. “You must care for yourself.”

  “As you command. Adio, Bellezza.” He laid a kiss on her fingers, and she slipped from his grasp.

  Hook beckoned to Mr. Smee. “Kindly present the commandant’s keys to Captain Cecco. Now, Captain, let us prepare our vessels. We sail at sunset.”

  “Aye, Commodore. The Red Lady will be ready. Our destination?”

  “Where else, Captain? We sail for home.”

  Delighted, Jill said, “Home, Sir? To the Island!”

  “The men will be pleased.” Cecco surveyed his ship. “A fine port in which to refit the Lady.”

  “And to share the tales of our adventures.” Jill, the storyteller, was impatient to begin.

  “We have all earned some shore leave.” Hook’s voice mellowed, “And, I believe, we will find diversion from our respective wounds. Captain.” Hook nodded. “I wish you fair winds.”

  Followed by Mr. Smee, he swept Jill toward the Roger. Their splendid vessel awaited, her gilt trimmings brilliant. As the couple crossed to her, their feet barely touched the planking.

  Glad cries arose as the commodore resumed command, leaping lightly aboard his ship. Raising his hook in salute, he acknowledged his men, then turned to Jill. To whistles and shouts, Hook kissed the crimson hand of his queen. She smiled upon him, and harmony was assured. The men voiced their relief in avid approval.

  “Ship’s company!” Hook called, “I shall take this opportunity to effect some changes. Mr. Mullins, Mr. Starkey, you will remain in the offices to which Captain Cecco appointed you.” Hook observed his men, noting the satisfaction in their faces. Mullins leaned back smiling with his thumbs in his belt, but Starkey whipped out his handkerchief to mop his neck.

  “To my sons, Mr. Nibs and Mr. Tootles, I entrust the duties of bo’sun’s mates.”

  Tom’s face lit up like a lantern. His brother smiled, rolling his shoulders to ease off the French blue jacket. Like a proud parent himself, Smee grinned upon them.

  “Thus freeing Mr. Smee to more efficiently administer his responsibilities. But, Mr. Smee, I find the position of bo’sun no longer suited to you.”

  Smee peered over his spectacles, nonplussed.

  “I therefore assign to you the additional rank of commodore’s steward, and…first mate.”

  Smee’s face flushed with pride. He barely gathered words to respond. “Commodore…I’m that honored.”

  In the ensuing tumult, Nibs and Tom rushed to Smee’s side. “Congratulations, Mr. Smee!”

  Smee shook their hands, accepting their greetings and returning them, but his gaze was fastened on his commander’s. Hook’s deep blue stare conveyed meaning a commodore must not articulate, and Smee perceived every nuance— gratitude, respect, affection. Hook raised his hand in a graceful flourish, saluting Mr. Smee. Then, at last, his first mate freed his gaze to lift his brawny arm and acknowledge the hails of the crewmen. Eventually the uproar died down, only to erupt again at the commodore’s next words.

  “The Island awaits us. We cast off at sunset!”

  Smee found his voice and then some, bellowing over the mayhem, “Get on with you, lads! We’ve much to do before we sail.” He, Mullins, and Starkey stamped about, urging the rowdy men to their duties.

  “Permission to board, Commodore.” Bearing a heavy canvas bag, Yulunga stood balanced on the plank.

  “Granted.”

  Yulunga jumped to the deck. “The captain sent me for his things, Sir.” He raised the bag, “And I am returning your stolen treasure. I am also instructed to hand over a certain pouch.”

  “My first mate will assist you.”

  Never far from the commodore’s side, Mr. Smee sent the African a sharp look. “And I’ll be needing my keys, if you please, Mr. Yulunga.”

  “My congratulations, Mr. Smee.” Grinning, Yulunga pulled the key ring from his pocket and tossed it, jingling, to Smee.

  “It’s good to be having the key to my quarters back. Thank you.”

  “Your quarters?”

  “Aye, Mr. Yulunga. I had to substitute it for the key to the shackles, so you’d not be finding one missing. To free the commodore from his bonds, of course.”

  “But…”

  “You were a mite too busy last night to be asking you for it. I judged it best to slip the key ring from your breeches.”

  Yulunga angled his head.

  “They were lying there, after all. On the floor of the gun deck, next to the girl. Like yourself.”

  The smile grew on Yulunga’s face, then he leaned back and laughed. Hearing his deep, rich cadence, the men of the Roger looked up from their tasks. Smee’s rollicking laugh joined in, and the remaining strings of beads at Yulunga’s throat threatened to burst like the first. But on catching the commodore’s eye, Yulunga sobered. “I must beg your pardon, Sir. I would have used that key to free you myself, had I known.”

  “I’ve no doubt of it, Mr. Yulunga. Carry on.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Smee jerked his head at Nibs and Tom, and the four men hastened to set the commodore’s quarters to rights.

  Jill stepped nearer and, with gentle touches, brushed her lover’s hair aside. She polished his earring, then, tenderly, hung it in its rightful place. The filigree seemed solid between her fingers, but, not daring to believe, she couldn’t take her eyes from him. “Hook, you must tell me what you’ve been through.”

  He held her. “We have much to relate. And a wealth of time in which to do so. As I calculate it, our Island is a week away.”

  “Our sailing master will chart the course.”

  “And our other officers will see to the ship’s needs. I shall, personally, see to yours.”

  “Hook.”

  “All those diamonds, Jill.”

  “And one another.”

  “My love.”

  The sound of his endearment set her heart to singing. With hungry fingertips, Jill caressed his jaw. But she couldn’t speak. The words would come to her, once they were alone. As she anticipated that moment, her feet were in danger of deserting the deck again. Anchored in his arms, she felt her dark smile curving her lips.

  With increasing restlessness, Hook observed that smile, feeling its full effect as she stroked his whiskers. His lip twitched. “Madam?”

  “I do believe, Sir, you are in need of
a shave….‘Today.’”

  He raised one eyebrow.

  From the corner of his eye he saw Smee and the others descending the companionway. And then her widow’s black billowed behind her as she ran, and her pirate king followed her, swiftly, to their quarters.

  Red-Handed Jill was a captain’s treasure. And a commodore’s soul.

  Chapter 37

  Other Islands

  “Anyone can see you’re proud to be his son and officer, Mr. Tootles.” Hefting the tea tray, Mr. Smee halted on the top step of the companionway. “That plaque’s as bright as ever I kept it.”

  Tom grinned and tucked the polishing rag in his pocket. “Aye, Mr. Smee. It’s good to see it in its proper place again. And the commodore, too.”

  “The lady did a fine job with the lettering.” Smee’s chest puffed with pride at the gleaming sight of the name— Commo. Jas. Hook. “Well, and what’s the wager today?”

  “Most of the men say another necklace. Nibs bet on a ring.”

  “Ah, you’re all daft. I’ve advised the commodore myself. It’s a new bracelet she’ll be sporting, and no mistake. Now see to the paint for the mastheads and take your brother with you. It’ll give you both a job to do while you’re spying for the Island.”

  “Aye, aye, Mr. Smee. We’ll be that glad to get home!”

  “Won’t we all, lad?” Smee himself couldn’t hide his happiness. The thought of his Lily shone on his rugged face. He’d trimmed his hair and beard in honor of his promotion, polished his boots and stitched himself a shirt. But Lily wouldn’t mind all that. She’d love her redheaded sailor any way she found him. “Sing out when you see the Island, Mr. Tootles. The gunner’s got orders to fire off a barrage.”

  “That’ll bring the Twins, all right. Paddling their canoe alongside the Roger, with Lily and the ladies aboard.”

  Smee chuckled. “And I’ll be shucking off my boots and diving in to join them! Off you go, now.”

  Tom shuttled down the stairs while Smee tapped on the majestic door, just above the brass plaque. Not waiting for a response, he entered the commodore’s quarters. “Good morning, Sir, Lady.” Smee closed the door behind him. His boots made no noise as he headed over the carpets.