Other Oceans: Book Two of the Hook & Jill Saga (78 page)

The surgeon’s feelings were too clear. Jill turned to him, and he held her face between his hands. He bent to kiss her. Cecco gritted his teeth. Even at the lengthening distance, he could tell. It was a lingering kiss, and tender. The company surrounding the couple cheered and stamped, waving their tankards. LeCorbeau, too, snatched a glass from the salver and raised it. The ruckus of the revelry grew louder, drifting over the water so that Cecco could hear as he watched. Cecco’s grip on his spyglass tightened. Jill had flung her arms around the surgeon’s neck to press her body against him. Too clearly.

Cecco heard strains of music drifting across the sea now, as the French sailors applied themselves to their instruments.
L’Ormonde
was making headway, the particulars of the scene shrinking even within the spyglass. But Cecco could see the couple clasped together, swaying, their side to side movement broadening, lengthening, to break at last into a waltz. He made out Jill’s billowing black silk, swirling as Hanover swept her around and around. Lilting back and forth across the deck, they seemed absorbed only in one another, not looking about but trusting the sailors to make way. The couple’s movements were elegant, perfectly attuned. They fused together as if, after long separation, they might never let go of one another again. Captain Cecco narrowed his staring eye.

The men’s hands and feet kept time to the music. After long minutes, Jill broke away from Hanover, her arms going around Tom. They danced a few steps, halting near Liza, where Jill drew the girl into Tom’s arms and pushed them into the waltz. Hanover gestured his approval to his daughter, after which Liza picked up her skirt and danced.

LeCorbeau took the opportunity to present a roll of parchment to the groom. As Hanover tucked it within his coat, the blond sailor emerged from the crowd again to hover near Liza. Guillaume appeared then, to tap the young man on the shoulder and thrust the tray of writing utensils into his hands. In his dapper uniform, Guillaume became officious, shooing the sailor toward the master’s quarters. He did the same to several others, herding them away from Liza and Tom, steering the men toward the cask before the table.

Nibs stepped up to take his place with Jill. After a few turns he surrendered her to her new husband, who swirled her away once again. Tom kept Liza dancing, guiding her all around the deck, eventually pausing at an unpopulated spot behind the helmsman’s back, to port, where Nibs, toting drinks, strolled aft to join them.

Cecco’s vigilance sharpened now. The party on deck had reached full pitch. Jill and Hanover waltzed on as if surrounded not by the planks of a privateer, but by the marble halls of a palace. They ascended to the quarterdeck, and as the musicians turned the tune to a folk dance,
L’Ormonde
’s men’s attention wandered from the bride and groom. Jill and Hanover gravitated to stern. Cecco ceased to track their movements. The time had come for action.

“Mr. Yulunga,” he bellowed from his vantage point, “make sail!”

“Aye, Sir!” Yulunga pivoted to relay the order. The men were ready. Red-Handed Jill was waiting for them. With a will, they set to work. Mullins grasped the wheel.

Cecco slid down the mizzen backstay, to land upon the deck. “Mr. Mullins, catch the Frenchman. Make all speed.”

“Aye, Captain!” As the sails unfurled, Mullins eyed the compass. He looked up again, feeling a good, strong breeze. “We’ll take her in no time, Sir.” The sails caught the wind. The ship began to turn. Mullins planted his feet wide apart and, putting his back into it, he hauled on the
Roger
’s wheel. Then, from deep within her hull rose an ominous note. She wailed.

Mullins listened. His brow furrowed and he rolled his eyes upward to squint at the sails. They stretched with the wind. Mullins pulled once more. The
Roger
was moving, but she wasn’t responding to the helm.

The sounds aboard
L’Ormonde
had faded, inaudible now. Cecco whirled to stare at Mullins.

“Mr. Mullins. Why are we not on course?”

“Sir…She’s not coming about.”

“What—” Cecco’s eyes flared, and then he dashed for the stern.

Yulunga exchanged looks with Mullins. “The rudder?”

“Yes, Sir. The rudder must be jammed. I can’t steer her at all.”

Grasping the taffrail, Cecco peered down into the depths of the sea. The big wing of the rudder stood at attention, stock-still. His ship was moving, unalterably, away from
L’Ormonde
. Away from Jill. Looking out over the water, Cecco could distinguish only a blur of black silk, receding into the distance. The vast sea loomed between them. Cursing, he yanked the spyglass open again. Within its brief round space, Jill’s dark dress faded to blend with beige.

Cecco stared, his wild eyes aching, until the very last moment…when she was gone.

Chapter 33

Flights of Fancy

T
om was watching. Jill laughed and he caught her signal; her black gloves slipped the doctor’s coat from his shoulders. Tom turned to Liza and surprised her, taking the cup from her hands.

“That’s enough for now, Miss. Let’s set the drinks down.” Exchanging a significant glance with Nibs, Tom leaned an elbow on the portside rail. He unbuttoned his blue jacket. “You know, Miss, Nibs and me, we’re your brothers now.”

“Aye, Miss Liza. And your father’s ours.” Nibs adjusted his kerchief, making ready.

Liza’s wide-eyed look showed astonishment. Clearly she hadn’t thought of this. As if seeking reassurance, she looked over her shoulder toward the surgeon. Unfettered by his coat, he held Jill tightly in his arms. The newlyweds swayed together still. Their dance had slowed when they moved toward the stern. Alone on the quarterdeck, they seemed to have abandoned their every concern with the
Roger
. Tom allowed Liza a moment to collect herself, then recalled her attention.

“I think it’s fine. A fresh start for the two of us. Don’t you think so?”

Liza’s uncertain expression remained. Her gray gaze wandered toward the dwindling pirate ship, where the unpleasantness between her and Tom had taken place.

Tom’s gaze followed. Already the
Roger
was more distant than he liked. “She’s a fine vessel, the
Jolly Roger
. I’m sorry to be parting company with her.”

Behind Liza’s back, Nibs craned his neck to monitor the progress of the party. Having rigged the sails, the men on duty had descended for a cup of cheer, and ship’s company made merry around the cask. Cheeky music from the fiddles joined with the wheeze of a concertina. Like his men, LeCorbeau was relaxed, enjoying himself. With one fluid arm, he kept time to the music. His other arm linked through Guillaume’s. The second mate was keeping his promise, ensuring that his captain’s back remained turned to the stern. Guillaume had engaged Renaud, too, in a conversation. As also arranged, Tom was keeping Liza occupied. With a final glance at the crow’s nest, Nibs swung a long leg over the port rail, balanced for one moment, then slid seaward. His departure made not a sound.

Tom hiked himself up to perch on the rail. “Might as well get comfortable, Miss. This party looks as if it has a mind to go on all day.” He inspected the decks. All clear. Jill was managing just fine, luring Hanover’s attention well away from his daughter. When the man on watch pointed his spyglass over the bow, Tom aimed a stare behind Liza. “Well, look at that!”

She turned. Moving quickly, Tom slapped his hand over Liza’s lips. Yanking her against his chest, he leaned back and rolled over the rail, dragging her with him. He let gravity tug them down, then he directed his thoughts to the sky.

Liza stiffened, and as her fingers tore in panic at the hand over her mouth, Nibs’ hold secured Tom. The two men hung over the water, rearranging their grasps so that each brother gripped one of Liza’s arms. Nibs supported her hips. Tom made sure to keep her mouth covered. She’d never made a peep before, but he wasn’t about to gamble today— she’d never flown before, either. She wouldn’t get a chance to holler.

Keeping low to the brine, the brothers and their terrified captive made straight for the
Roger
. The rest of the raid on
L’Ormonde
was up to Jill. Even with her weighty message for Cecco in Nibs’ pocket, the young men weren’t sure of the welcome with which the captain would greet his prodigals. But they knew, without a doubt, Mr. Yulunga would be eager to see them. Jill had told them all about the scheme she and Yulunga concocted alone in his quarters. She’d appeared at Nibs’ cabin window last night, looking as blown and wild as she’d ever done upon the Island. Once she slid inside, she outlined her instructions. She had negotiated a shrewd bargain with Cecco’s mate. One girl— for two boys.

Her sons only hoped she could negotiate as successfully with the surgeon. But by the looks of the man as he married her, if he ever once got her alone below decks, she’d be lucky to see topside again this voyage.

And, unfortunately, Jill seemed just as ardent. Last night, insisting Mr. Yulunga was waiting with a lantern, she’d flown off into the darkness, leaving no explanation for her desire to carry through with the wedding. Their last glimpse of her aboard
L’Ormonde
was a worrisome image that lingered in their minds— her black gloves loosening the knot of Hanover’s white cravat. They had to trust that his good looks and his riches wouldn’t tempt her to get herself trapped in his cabin. Her sons knew of her weakness for pirate treasure.

The trouble was, so did the dashing doctor.

§ § §

The sails were reefed and Mullins secured his cable, preparing to inspect the
Roger
’s rudder. From his post at the stern, Cecco eyed the increasing sea between his ship and LeCorbeau’s.

“If my suspicions are correct, Mr. Mullins—”

“Ahoy, Captain!” Mr. Noodler called down from the crow’s nest. “Something approaching, Sir, to portside!”

Cecco had already seen it. As its movement became distinct from that of the waves, he leapt to the port rail, snatching a shroud for balance. Raising the spyglass, he waited for the image to clear. He felt his heart constrict. A wide skirt whipped in the wind. Two figures supported the female. Her dress was dark…but it wasn’t Jill’s.

It was Liza. With Nibs and Tom.

Scanning the sea behind them, Cecco found no sign of Jill. He hurtled down and threw the spyglass to Yulunga.

“Your girl.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The two men locked stares. Cecco drew out the moment, then, scathingly, he said, “Jill has kept her word to one of us, anyway.”

“You must give her time, Captain. As she requested.”

“I am finished with giving. Now I take something.”

“Sir?”

“If LeCorbeau wants Mr. Nibs, he will have to fight for him.”

Yulunga didn’t risk a smile. “The lady hoped you’d feel that way, Sir.”

“The lady presumes too much.”

Cheers from Cecco’s men interrupted, greeting Nibs and Tom. Cecco turned to glare at Jill’s boys.

Out of breath, the young sailors alighted on the rail. The girl swayed between them, weak-kneed and windblown.

Nibs panted, “Permission to board, Captain?” He lowered his chin, anticipating Cecco’s wrath. Tom’s shoulders heaved, too, but he couldn’t hold back a grin.

Cecco scowled at them. “Mr. Yulunga.”

Yulunga strode forward to pluck Liza from the rail. In shock, she collapsed into his arms. As Yulunga carried her down the steps, her frenzied gaze roved the deck of the ship she’d thought never to see again. Her captor settled her on the wooden deck to huddle before the mainmast. His huge hand swept the hair from her face, and he caught sight of her ears.

He grunted as he examined them. Two piercings, one on each lobe. But no earrings; Yulunga wore those. “You will stay here where I can watch you.” He gripped her wrists. “You should know. Before she left with your father, Red-Handed Jill gave you to me.”

In her panic, Liza clenched her hands. She looked everywhere, in case her father had appeared on the
Roger
as magically as she did, but she already knew the truth. He wasn’t here.

“You gave yourself to me, too, last night. You’ll do it again later.”

Liza gaped with widening eyes. That wasn’t what had happened. It was just the once. She’d only meant—

“I have work to do.” Yulunga released her wrists. “I think you know better than to make more trouble?” He leveled a stare at her.

Liza blinked. She nodded.

“I didn’t hear you.” Yulunga angled his head to bring an ear closer to her lips.

She was still bound to her father. He forbade her to speak, about anything. He trusted her to hold his secrets. And Liza trusted him; she trusted he would find her here and snatch her back. Wouldn’t he? Liza searched behind her but she couldn’t see
L’Ormonde
. She had no need to see it. She knew she couldn’t anger her father now. The two of them had come to an accord. Duty and pleasure had at last combined.

“You may speak. I’ll say it one more time.”

She wished Yulunga would order her to do something else— anything else.

“You know better than to make trouble.”

Liza knew better than to cross Yulunga. He squatted right in front of her, inches away. She could feel the heat of his body. Her father was far over the sea.

But Liza’s voice was imprisoned. It couldn’t escape, not even in a whisper. Slowly, Yulunga shook his head, a malevolent gleam in his eye. Liza shuddered.

“As I said. Later.” He touched her earlobe, the one he himself hadn’t pierced. Looking down on her, he rose to his full, terrifying height, blocking out the sky.

He was a mountain of a man. Liza felt herself go weak. She could smell his power. She felt dizzier now than when Nibs and Tom had somehow spirited her across the water. At last Yulunga turned away and charged up the steps to his captain’s side, leaving Liza to sit stunned, in continuing silence, wondering what would happen to her next.