He was soaked through to his skin, and his white linen shirt and thick woolen breeches felt as if they weighed twenty pounds. When he rushed back inside and closed the doors, a pool of water grew beneath each step he took. He swiped the dark, wet curls away from his face, squeezing the water from them as he pressed them close to his now nearly sober head. As the boat lifted and dropped, he walked straight on and shook the water from his hands and tugged the wet shirt away from his skin. With a firm yank, he pulled it up over his head, twisted the water from it onto the floor, and carried on.
Just before he reached his cabin, he caught two sailors out of the corner of his right eye. They were facing each other as they stood outside of a cabin door and appeared to be making a wager of some sort. Their deep, sinister laughter pulled him as if it dragged him by the arm.
“What goes on here?”
The men fell back against the wall and slammed their hands at their sides. “Nothing, Captain. Just jawin’ is all.”
“You take me for a fool?” Carbonale shouted, grabbing each sailor by the shirt with his fists clenched so tightly that his forearms rippled and his chest muscles tensed and thickened.
“It were his idea, Captain!” the sailor held tight in his left hand shouted, turning his wide eyes to his left and tipping his head at his mate.
“The ‘ell it was!” the older and much heavier sailor shouted back. “He wants to pay a visit to the lady, sir. I telled him it was a bad idea seein’ as how you laid it out fer us that she was hands-off, but,” the sailor barely finished his sentence before Carbonale dropped them both and planted a well-placed, face-crushing blow to the elder one’s right cheek, knocking him cold to the floor.
Carbonale now had both hands on the younger man and gathered him up to his neck in his filthy shirt, pulling him up until his toes grazed the floor. Both of his fists pressed hard into the man’s chin. “My orders were hands-off. That means eyes and whatever filthy thoughts you may conjure in your imagination as well. You just bought yourself a ticket off my ship when we reach Nassau, along with your friend here. You’re lucky you failed in this attempt, or you’d be some fortunate shark’s dinner tonight. Or worse, I’ll open that door and let the lady do her worst. Do you understand?”
“Are ye gonna lay me out, too, sir?”
Carbonale took a deep breath and slowly lowered the man. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Captain. Although I can’t rightly say I know what it means to conjure, I have a pretty good idea,” the seaman said as he trembled and glanced down at his mate, still out cold on the wet floor.
“Get out of here, and take his worthless ass with you. Don’t let me find you anywhere near here again, and when we pull out of Nassau, don’t think I won’t be watching to make sure neither of you sets foot on my ship again. Now go!”
The young man reached down and slapped the older one hard several times, rousing him halfway to his feet, and then taking him under the arm and rushing off.
“Maddox? Is that you?” He heard her voice coming from the cabin door behind him. He was startled and spun around, realizing he’d heard Ivory, but he swallowed hard while he tried to decide to answer her or not. “Maddox, I know you’re there. Please, just answer me.”
When he heard her say “please,” something within him softened and the lungs full of air he’d held for nearly a minute released with a heavy sigh, over-laced with a soft, “Yes.”
“I need to speak with you. I need to reason with you that you must not do this. I—I can’t beg you Maddox, you know that. I can only appeal to your sense of honor and decency not to turn me over. There’s still time. All I ask is that you speak to me and allow me the chance to live. All you have to do is let me go.”
He reached out and placed his palms flat against the door and leaned against them. The fresh rain water still dripped from his black ringlets but as it ran down over his back, it intermingled with the beads of sweat that had escaped during his scuffle. His head fell forward against the door, barely making a sound. He pressed the underside of the toe of his left boot flat against the threshold, as if he were using it to keep her in…or keep himself out.
“I can hear you there…at least I hope it’s really you. Your breathing from when you pressed your cheek against mine, it still fills my ears. Now your breath is heavy with doubt, trying to decide if you’re making the right decision. Do you believe you could have such doubts if you were, in fact, making the right choice?”
“You don’t even know me. There is no love here, only the foolish lust of an even more foolish man.”
“Is it foolish to want to feel the warm touch of another?” she spoke softly, pressing her hands against the opposite side of the door.
“Don’t pretend your motivation was anything more than to free yourself, Madame. You made yourself clear in my bed. You and I were cut from the same cloth, which is why we are who we are. I won’t pretend that I am anything but a solitary man, but…”
“But what? I will regret asking you this, but if I don’t ask, I’ll go to the noose never knowing what might have been. Your duty and your pockets have told you I am nothing more than cargo to be sold, but what does your heart say? Tell the truth—not just to me, but to yourself. Close your eyes and remember your hands, when your fingertips pressed hard into my thighs and you pulled me to you. Do you remember how you kissed the breath from my body until I had to pull at your hair to make you release me?”
“Stop,” he demanded, banging his head hard against the door.
“Tell me that you felt nothing. Tell me now, and I’ll stop!”
Carbonale twisted his head against the door and then slammed his hands hard against it. “How can you give something away that you never had?” he asked through his teeth and backed away from the door. He leaned down and sluggishly picked up his damp, wrinkled shirt from the floor near his feet and wiped his face with it before slapping it hard over his shoulder.
“Are you referring to my freedom? Or you?” Ivory whispered and fell silent.
“Goddamn you!” Carbonale cried out, hitting the door a final time before he turned and stomped off. When he finally reached his cabin, Green was leaning against the door with his arms folded.
“I’ve taken the liberty of detaining those two and securing them below until we reach Nassau.”
“What?”
“The two miscreants who were plotting on Captain Shepard.”
“Wait, how were you even aware of this?” Carbonale asked, brushing him aside and opening the door.
“Your cabin boy was watching, and he ran for me. However, I assured him you could handle it yourself,” Green said while lifting the decanter on Carbonale’s desk and nodding to him for permission.
“Of course. I’ll join you,” Carbonale grunted as he stepped back into the passageway, pulled off his boots and tipped them, releasing the rain water onto the boards outside the door.
“Do not worry, my friend. I am not here to, yet again, make a plea for you to speak with Captain Shepard. I have the understanding from seeing the direction from which you came, and the expression on your face, that you already have,” Green said, striking a match and lighting Carbonale’s pipe.
“Then you’d be wrong, Alphonse. I simply reminded those two miscreants, as you called them, of the rules where Captain Shepard is concerned and continued on my way back here. And don’t sit there—sit on the wood chair. You’re soaking wet,” Carbonale ordered as he waved his pipe in the air and motioned Green away from his velvet sofa.
Green chuckled lightly and commented, “Maddox, you are so predictable.”
“I’ll thank you, sir, not to judge me,” he shot back as he spoke with the pipe pressed between his teeth. He shook out his shirt, hanging it over the back of the wooden chair. “Now, why don’t you take your judgments and be on your way? I need to change out of these wet breeches before my ass turns red and I can’t sit for a week.”
Green continued to chuckle as he stood and walked to the door
. “By the way, the key to Captain Shepard’s cabin is kept by the boy who also minds you.” Green pulled the door open and tipped his hat. Carbonale picked up the anchor-shaped paperweight from his desk and hurled it, just as Green ducked out and closed the door. He poured what was left of the rum in his cup and held the decanter upside down until it dripped no more. He took a long drink and sat it down on his desk. Then, he unhooked his belt, unbuttoned his breeches, and let them fall from his hips to the floor. He stepped out of them and kicked them away, taking another puff of his pipe.
He walked in his under-breeches to the windows and watched the lightning as it turned the black sky white. He removed his stockings, one after the other, and tossed them to the floor. “Come in!” he shouted upon hearing a light rap at his door.
“I’ve come to light the candles, Cap’n,” said the cabin boy as he peeked in.
“Then do it, lad,” Carbonale said, never turning away from the sea.
The boy went about, lighting every candle in the room, until a warm, soft glow had overtaken the dank darkness of the weak light that the lone candelabra in the middle of his desk had offered. “Will there be anythin’ else, Cap’n?” the boy asked, picking up the wet breeches and draping them over his arm.
Carbonale lowered his pipe and turned to his right. The boy stood straight and silent with the light of a single candle shining up on his face from below. “Here, take these as well. What’s your name, boy?” he asked, tossing off the damp under-breeches.
“Why, I’m Richard, Cap’n. I’ve always been Richard.”
“How old are you?”
“I was twelve me last name day, sir. I assure ye, Cap’n, I’m quite old enough ta’ do the job!”
“No, no, no, son…I’m not questioning that. I’m just bored and curious. But not nearly drunk enough, so bring me another bottle. That’s all—I want nothing else from you.” Carbonale turned back to the sea as the last of the lightning and thunder rumbled and flashed in the distance. “Oh, and one more thing!” he shouted after Richard.
“Yes, Cap’n?”
“See to Captain Shepard. I believe she’d requested a candle last night.”
“Aye, Cap’n. I’ll be just outside the door all night if ye need anythin’ else.”
The door closed, and Carbonale tapped out his pipe in the ashtray and sat back, naked, in his armed chair behind his desk. The candles had already begun to warm the room slightly, and the chill from his wet clothes and tangled thoughts was fading away. Once Richard returned with the rum, Carbonale managed to get through only half of it before locking his door, falling into his bunk, and closing his eyes.
Chapter Fifteen
“There’s a storm up ahead. I hate storms!” Miranda squealed as she rushed up to Cassandra in her bare feet.
“Where are your shoes?”
“Ke says she never wears shoes on deck, so I tried it, and I kind of like it. What the hell difference does it make, Cass? I’m going below. There’s no way I’m staying out here. Look, it’s already starting to rain!” Miranda said, holding her hands out and catching the first of the many drops to follow.
“I’ll join you,” Cass said, closing the spyglass and sliding it in her sash. The skies were quickly darkening, and the water was already beginning to chop. “Ke?” she shouted to the bow, “We’re going below!”
Keara waved in acknowledgement as she stood her post and held tightly onto a line, watching the smothered sun and the dark clouds approaching. “You there! Get Willy up here straight away!” she called out to the sailor closest to her and stepped carefully, holding the lines until she reached the quarterdeck.
“Willy, get her through the storm. I’ll have the hatches secured, and you mind the sails and the helm.”
“Will do, Master Shepard. This storm’s gonna set us a back a bit.”
“Well, do your best. I’m sure it’s set the Cat back a bit as well. Perhaps if we ride it out well, it will give us some gain.”
Keara rushed about ordering the hatches secured and assisting in any capacity, until the boat was prepared to weather the storm. They’d still not gained sight of the Black Cat, but since they now had a plan, catching the Cat wasn’t necessarily the agenda as much as just reaching Nassau under cover of night.
“Put your shoes on, Mir, please,” Cassandra directed as they entered their cabin.
“Let me dry off my feet first, will you?” she answered, flopping down on her bunk.
“I hate storms, too, but I’ve seen much worse and, unfortunately, I can’t imagine this one giving Blacksnake much worry in that galley of his.”
“Okay…stockings and shoes in place, sir. Now, may I go take care of the log?”
“What is it, Miranda? Obviously something’s in your craw,” Cass remarked, folding her arms.
“I’m worried that Tommy and Sandy are going to come to blows, and I haven’t the slightest idea how to stop it.”
Cassandra laughed and sat down on the bunk next to her cousin. “Miranda, you dangle yourself in front of them like a bag of pearls and then wonder to whom you’ll hand the prize! I don’t know how you’ve lived this long, carrying on so.”
“Tommy is, well, he’s just…young and dumb, but he has the most magnificent bum. It’s true! Ask Keara!”
“I’d rather not, if you don’t mind,” Cassandra said, backing away slightly.
“But Sandy...John, I mean… is mature and worldly, and, although I have yet to have the pleasure, the way he looks at me as if I’m the only woman alive,” Miranda shivered slightly. “There’s a lot to be said for having complete control over a man’s eyes, wouldn’t you agree?”
Just the word “eyes” triggered a memory in Cassandra of two bright green eyes staring back at her. She paused, imagining those eyes again, wondering what they were looking at, and if they, too, had memories.
“Cass? Hello?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You were saying?”
“There’s only one way to work this all out and make a decision,” Miranda declared, jumping to her feet and rushing to the mirror on the wall.
“Oh, really?”
“Can you keep yourself busy for a bit?”
“For heaven’s sakes, Miranda. I can always find something to do. As a matter of fact, I’ve been meaning to get the books balanced from our trip to Kingston. I noticed you hadn’t managed to get around to it yet,” Cassandra scowled at her cousin. “One of us has to account for what we spent, because when we get Ivory back, she’ll want to know…”
“Wonderful. Give me an hour. Actually, better make it three.”
“Miranda, are you planning to…”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m planning,” she answered, barely allowing Cassandra to say a word. She combed back her hair, pinched her cheeks, and, as always, set her bosom high in her bodice.
“Cover those damn things, will you? We’ve appearances to maintain! You know this is not permitted aboard ship, right?”
Miranda grabbed a shawl from her trunk and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, “I’ll see you later!”
Cassandra could only laugh. She slapped her hands on her thighs and headed off to Ivory’s cabin to balance the books and make the log entry for Miranda. She hoped to find a decent novel in the bookcase as well, to carry her away during the storm and take her mind off of those green eyes and the handful of man who’d been blessed with them. First, however, she imagined something else, and her change in mood persuaded her to give Miranda a hand with her decision.
* * * *
Sandy had been put to task below decks in the hold, repairing and rebuilding barrels. He hadn’t seen Miranda at all since the day before in Ivory’s office, but he had suffered the sneers and lowered brow of Tommy when he requested wood and tools. Fortunately, Tommy had been called under all-hands to assist with the rigging and sails for the storm. Sandy was, for now, quite alone.
“Are they keeping you busy down here?”
“Oh! Miranda, love, ye nearly turned m
e head around!” Sandy exclaimed as he spun to find her there. “Yes, as ye can see there’s lots ta’ be done here. I was goin’ up for all-hands, but bein’ as I’m a traitor and all…well.”
“You wouldn’t have, say, a few minutes to spare, would you?”
“For ye, lass, I have the rest of me life,” he whispered, reaching out and placing his thick hand on the back of her waist and pulling her closer.
“For now, let’s wait on that whole life and just be thankful for today,” Miranda whispered back as the sloop tilted, tossing her against him. He caught her easily and wrapped both arms tightly around her to steady her as her wrap floated to the floor. “You have wonderful sea legs,” she said over a heavy sigh.
“Well, why don’t ye let me show ye how wonderful the rest of me is, too?” Sandy growled as he leaned back slightly and took in a long drink of Miranda with his eyes, starting at the rise and fall of her breasts as they strained against the material of her bodice with each breath.
Her hands flew up and clasped the sides of his bald head, and she pressed her lips down hard onto his as he reciprocated equally, taking her kisses powerfully into his mouth over and over. He squeezed her so tightly against him that she thought she’d faint, and she began to struggle against him for air. “Sandy! You’ve got to allow me to catch my breath.”
His passion was unlike any she’d experienced before. He was possessed and pulled her to him again, thrusting his face down into her bosom, kissing them hard as his hands slid from her back to clasp one firm breast in each hand, pushing them higher, until they almost climbed completely over the top.
“Wait!” she cried out, his mouth still hungrily exploring her neck and chest.
“What? Wait? Ye can’t be serious,” Sandy mumbled. His hands clasped now at her sash, pulling to untie it.
“Stop it! Listen, come with me,” Miranda whispered, placing her forefinger over her lips.
Sandy released a low groan, but he obeyed, releasing her and then taking her hand as she ordered and following her stealthily to her cabin door. “I can’t go in there. What if someone sees me?”
The Blue Diamond (The Razor's Edge Book 1) Page 12
