Other Oceans: Book Two of the Hook & Jill Saga (24 page)

“Mr. Nibs! What brings you—?” He stopped.

At the groan of the door, Nibs had turned to face the bo’sun. Now he stepped away from the bed. He didn’t bother to explain.

Smee shut the door, and his chin lowered. “So. Tom Tootles.”

Tom looked up at Smee through one eye. The light of the lantern on Smee’s table showed his other eye to be puffy and discolored, swollen nearly shut. A two-inch cut leaked blood from his right temple to his eyebrow. He hunched on the edge of Smee’s bunk, his arms folded across his stomach.

Smee angled his head. “I wondered if you’d be crawling out to see me. Thought you might come sooner, though.”

Gravely, Nibs said, “Sorry to bust in on your quarters, Mr. Smee. Tom didn’t want anyone to see him yet. He got through duty in the galley, then stayed below ’til dark.”

“By ‘anyone’ I expect you mean the lass.”

Tom looked away.

“Can’t say as I blame you. It’s a right ugly face you’ve got, lad. That cut’s sure to leave you your first mark. How’s the rest of you?”

Answering, Tom moved his bruised jaw joint as little as possible. His posture belied his words. “I’m all right. No cuts except my head. Can you stitch me up, Sir?”

“Me? We’ve got a surgeon for such jobs now, haven’t you heard?”

Tom’s eye shifted toward Nibs.

“Tom would rather not bother the man, Sir, seeing as it was his daughter made the trouble.” He hesitated, wanting to say more, but thinking better of it. “Jill talked him into coming to you, Mr. Smee.”

“That’s all right, lad.” Smee unlocked a cabinet in the corner and pulled out a bottle. “First thing to do is to dose you. Take this, and then I’ll give you some more.” He uncorked it, took a cup from the cupboard, and poured out a generous measure of rum, which he handed to Tom. “We’ve got to deaden the senses.”

Tom swallowed some, his senses far from dead as the heat of the liquid ran down his throat to his belly. He paused, then drank again, resisting the grimace because of the painful muscles it might require.

“Light that other lantern, Mr. Nibs.” Pouring some of the liquor on a cloth, Smee smiled crookedly through his red beard.

Tom muttered into the cup. “Damned fool.”

“What was that?”

He squinted blearily up at Smee as the man dabbed at the dried blood, then set his teeth and said it louder. “I was a damned fool, Sir. I never should have looked twice at her.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve learned something. A lesson like that can guide you all the rest of your life.”

Nibs had hung the lantern and kept himself quiet, but he defended his brother now. “Tom wasn’t trying to hurt her, Mr. Smee. He only meant to help!”

Smee gestured to Tom to hold out his cup. The bottle clinked on the rim as he poured again. “Keep drinking, lad.” He tossed the reddened rag on his worktable and corked the rum, then pulled a box from his cabinet. Rummaging through it, he collected a needle, a spool of fine, sturdy twine, and a knife. “What do
you
say, Mr. Tootles?” Smee kept his back to the boys.

Tom’s gullet was burning now, just like his cut, but he swallowed some more rum. “I’d be all right, if I’d followed orders.”

“Aye. And why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to be a hero. She needs one.”

Smee turned around to look at Tom. As he studied the young sailor, a thoughtful expression crossed his face.

“A hero, lad?”

“I don’t suppose you’d sympathize with that, Mr. Smee.”

“Wouldn’t I though? You might be surprised to learn that the captain kept me from a nasty knife fight over a woman. Years ago. She was just a tavern girl, but I’d have gladly died for her that night. I never thought of her again ’til now. I can’t even recall her name.”

“But, Sir, you always have luck with the ladies. You don’t have to disobey orders to get their attention.”

“Well, it depends on the lady, now, doesn’t it? Some respect a man’s duty, some deliberately tempt a man away from it. Your mother, now, she tempts better than any, but she understands duty. She knows I’d never—” Abruptly, Smee turned to the box and began measuring the thread. Forcing his mind back to the lecture, he continued. “She knows she’s honor-bound to follow our captain, no matter what. Just like you two.”

“Aye, and that little Miss is one to use the rules against a man! I’ve learned my lesson. My first loyalty is to the captain.”

“Tell Mr. Smee what Jill said, Tom. Go on.”

Smee pulled the twine through the needle and cut it. “What did she say, lad?”

“She came to me when I was drudging for Cook in the galley, Mr. Smee. She gave me that look she gets when she’s mad.”

Smee grinned. “Aye, I know the one!”

“But she wasn’t mad. She grabbed my jaw and looked me over, and then she says ‘Don’t tell me what you did, Mr. Tootles. Tell me what you’re
going
to do.’ And I says ‘Ma’am, I’m sorry and ashamed.’ And then her eyes fired up and she smacked me hard on the face, and she says, ‘No son of mine has any business being ashamed. Get on with your punishment and then get on with your life,’ she says…because shame brings a man down, but learning from a mistake makes you strong. That’s what she said, and then she sent Nibs for my spare shirt, cleaned me up, and offered to send for the doctor.”

“Which you declined.”

“Aye, and she wouldn’t leave until I promised to come to you.”

The bo’sun took a deep breath. “She’s a wise one, for all she’s so young. Listen to her, and hold your head up tomorrow when you see that girl again.”

The rum was beginning its work on Tom. He blinked with one eye and leaned against the wall. “Aye. Once I’m stitched together again, I’ll get on with my duty, and not bother with
her
any more.” He took a last gulp and handed his cup to Nibs.

Smee’s strong arm slipped behind Tom and hoisted him. He shifted the pillow and laid the young man down. “Take this and bite down, lad. It tastes bad, but it’ll save your tongue.” He stuck a strip of leather between Tom’s teeth. “But if you think your worries are over, I’ll be warning you now. If you ignore that girl, she’ll only find another way to make trouble. Mark my words, and be on your guard.”

Nibs stared at Smee, questioning. “But that’s what she’s wanted all along. To be left alone.”

“Has she now? Then why am I about to sew up your brother for helping her? Hold this lantern steady, and let’s get on with it. Take a firm grip of his wrists, now, and don’t look, if it makes you queasy.”

“No, Sir, I’ll watch. It’s sort of a punishment for me, too. I should have taken better care of him.”

“Tom made his own decision. And remember what the lady said, Mr. Nibs. No shame.”

Smee took note of the way these young men were looking at him, and hid the smile. It
was
good to be a hero sometimes. And tonight, these lads needed one far more than did the ladies aboard.

Tom mumbled incoherently around the leather strap.

Bending over his face, Smee got to work. “That’s right, Mr. Tootles….Whatever it was you said.”

Chapter 11

Dangerous Truths

D
iscussion of the incident involving Tom Tootles and the girl had all but died down. Once the worst was over, most of the men ribbed Tom, but he remembered Jill’s admonition and shrugged their ridicule away. The exceptions were Nibs, of course, who had lost his light-heartedness; Mr. Starkey, who badgered Tom to work harder than ever; and Mr. Cecco, who insisted wryly that when he had advised Tom to make his own luck, he hadn’t meant for him to produce it under Mr. Starkey’s scarry nose.

Tom was stiff and sore and his favorite yellow shirt was torn beyond repair, but the welts had changed color and there was no question that under the jibes, his mates accepted him. He’d made a boy’s mistake, but he’d taken the consequences like a man.

Miss was more watched, and more alone, than ever. She and her tea tray were seen early each day heading from the galley to the captain’s quarters, where she spent most of the mornings. Later she would run her errands, and then she kept to her cabin. It was noted, quietly, that she had taken to going barefoot, and her ink-stained fingers crocheted an attractive net for her hair that didn’t offend her father’s sense of propriety. When consulting the surgeon, the crewmen chose to talk to him in the spare cabin next to his quarters rather than run the risks inherent in close proximity to her. Consistent with his policy, the captain seemed to ignore her. Only the lady tried to talk to her at all, and she, too, was guarded. Everyone else steered clear of Miss. It was apparent that she was, indeed, bad luck.

The sighting of the ship made a welcome diversion for everyone.

§ § §

The knock sounded above the brass plate, and Capt. Jas. Hook was summoned from his quarters where he was taking supper with Red-Handed Jill. Now positioned by the port rail, he gave the word to sheer the
Roger
off course toward the vessel. It took some time and some reefing of sails to enter within proper range for the spyglass. In the light of the setting sun, Jill appeared in the captain’s doorway, her fingers wrapped around a cup of wine, and her hair flowing over scarlet taffeta, brushed by an early evening breeze that promised a warm night.

One devoted sailor had been watching for her. He’d asked Yulunga to keep an eye on the surgeon. These three oddly-matched men were becoming friendly; they had just shared a meal in the galley below. Assured that the physician was occupied for the time being, the sailor slipped unnoticed past the deck hands, some in the rigging and some at the rail, all straining to look east, their backs to the sunset. He heard the deck buzz with murmurs of excitement as his bare feet climbed to the top step of the companionway.

“Good evening, Mr. Cecco. Have you come to show me more of your magic tricks?” She was satisfied; she smiled. Rubies glowed at her throat.

And golden chains glittered on his neck. “I will be most pleased to entertain whenever you wish, Madam. But I have come to ask if you have recovered your good health and spirits?”

“I am quite well, thank you.”

“Unlike your son’s well-being, yours is, no doubt, attributable to the good doctor’s care.” He smiled with his even teeth.

Jill couldn’t tell. Was there a touch of sarcasm in his accent? “Mr. Smee took very good care of Tom, and we are both fortunate to enjoy the solicitude of the captain and our shipmates, and also healthy constitutions. In fact, I had planned to resume fencing tomorrow,” her gaze lifted toward the sea, “but it looks as if we may all be otherwise occupied.”

Hook turned just then to assure himself of her whereabouts, and over the distance that separated them, they exchanged a smile. He registered the presence of his sailor, and then he faced the sea and raised the spyglass again.

Following Jill’s attention, Mr. Cecco twisted to search out the unidentified vessel. Confronted by the ugly marks on the man’s back, Jill drew away, but she kept looking. The two ends of the leather strap that bound his hair dangled against his scars, too reminiscent of the whip. As he turned back to her, she shifted quickly to meet his eyes, but not quickly enough.

Cecco said, “We will know soon whether she is a prize or a warship. I am ready for some action! But I see that you are still concerned with
my
condition.”

She spoke lightly, but carefully. “It strikes me, Mr. Cecco, that you have now paid for your most famous act of bloodshed.”

His easy smile became tempered, a little dangerous. “You refer to Gao, Madam?”

“Yes.…The prison governor’s back, and letters of blood.”

“The day I carved my name on him. My shipmates are not usually so courageous as to remind me of this incident. But then, you are an unusual shipmate.”

“I can’t prevent the images from coming to me. It’s part of your story, just as my red hand is part of mine.”

Now he nodded, his amiability restored. “Yes, your red hand. The mark that proves you are one of us. May I?” His bracelets chimed as he extended his own hand to her, and when she tilted her head, he explained, “I mean to read your palm.”

Smiling, she lifted her left hand, palm up.

“No, the other hand, the stained one. Blood will not mask the truth.”

She complied, slipping the goblet into her left hand. “What do you see? Please, not more boys to raise! Tom has given me quite enough to worry about.” It was best, she had decided, not to take Mr. Cecco too seriously.

He scooped his hand under hers and barely touched it, applying just enough pressure to support it. “Ah! I see….No, Madam, no more boys. Only men from now on…and…yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, you will be adored always. But that has never been a mystery! Let me look closer.”

“By all means, now that you’ve begun your magic again.”

Disregarding her flippancy, Cecco allowed himself to hold her hand more firmly. Still standing on the top step, he placed one foot on the landing to steady himself, and rested his elbow on his knee. He bent over her hand, and, only half listening, she admired the smooth skin of his broad, tanned shoulders.

“I read here that you have left behind your home. Two homes….The seas you have loved and sailed are dwindling away— as is the ocean you are now sailing.”

“What?” He held her full attention now.

“You will change course yet again. Your palm tells me so. I see other oceans.”

With his finger he showed her, tracing the branches of three creases, and setting off a tingling in the flesh of her hand. Studying the familiar folds, Jill drew her eyebrows together. She knew enough of magic to believe in it. But did she believe this gypsy?

Like all his people, Cecco was accustomed to doubters. He shrugged. “I would not twist fortune to mislead you. Such an act would bring twisted fortune upon myself. But fate always has its way. What I have foretold will come to pass.”

Looking again toward the foreign ship on the horizon, Jill was reminded of the
Julianne
, and she wondered.…In her preoccupation, she forgot that Cecco still held her hand.