Other Oceans: Book Two of the Hook & Jill Saga (88 page)

“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

“A
nyone 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.

The luxuriance of the room was already illuminated with daylight from the bedside windows. Endowed with crowns of sunshine, the pirate king and his queen leaned back against the pillows of their four-posted bed.

“Time to be rousing, Sir.”

“You are too late, Mr. Smee.” The commodore sent his steward a humorous glance. His black hair was disheveled, and Jill caressed his beard. The thick band of jewels on her wrist shone as sharp and blue as his eyes. “You are, however, just in time to save my neck.”

Jill turned her tousled head to Smee. “I was proposing to perform your duties again, Mr. Smee. But I shall bow to your expertise with the razor.”

“Aye, Ma’am. The commodore’s cuts from your last barbering are nearly healed. We’d best not be inflicting any more.” Smee smiled to see that the commodore had taken his advice about the bracelet. He threw open the rest of the curtains and took down the brocaded dressing gown. Inhaling a hint of her scent on it, he held it ready for the lady. Like every morning of the past eight days, he waited patiently for the master to relinquish his mistress. Hook had confided in him: possessing only one hand caused intriguing delays. But the couple had compensated where the jewelry was concerned. Between the two of them, new baubles were somehow secured upon the lady. Every night, now.

Jill fetched Hook’s dusty-blue velvet from the wardrobe, then settled on the window seat, enjoying her tea while Smee tended the commodore. The men strapped the brace on Hook’s shoulders and saw to the shaving. With pleasure, Jill watched her perfect pirate and his burly Irishman. Every mundane task reassured her— she was sailing on her own familiar ocean. Toward her Island, and, no doubt, adventure.

A fresh breeze wafted through the aft windows, and Jill turned for a glimpse of the sea. Instead she found herself gazing at the lovely lines of
Red Lady
. With a sudden pang, she was reminded of the unsettled segment of her heart. This particular contention, she hoped for everyone’s sake, might never find an end. The men she loved would be thrown together now— and often. Their positions forced them to work in tandem. As ranking officers, responsible for two companies of men, they must consult and scheme together, find value in each other’s skills. And each would seek his pleasure soon, on the shores of the Neverland…if she could keep them from killing each other.

Hook studied her reflection in his shaving mirror. “Your concern would be more profitably employed in regard to the boy, Jill. I wonder to what pass he has brought our Island by now.”

“Aye, Sir. I look forward to speaking with Lily and my Twins.”

Smee’s hand joggled and Hook recoiled, scowling. “Perhaps, Mr. Smee, you had better surrender that razor to Jill after all.”

“Begging your pardon, Commodore. But, Sir—”

“Yes, Mr. Smee. You may be dismissed at first sight of land.” He gestured to summon the razor. “Not before.”

“Thank you, Sir. I’ve waited this long to hold my Lily. Seems I just can’t be waiting any more.” Smee’s features grew cautious, then. “And Sir. Shall I be asking the Indian ladies if they know of a young woman to wait on the lady?”

Jill watched Hook’s face, relieved as it darkened.

“No, Mr. Smee. I have learned my lesson. I’ll not be trusting anyone else. As the commodore’s mate and steward, you alone are to care for my personal belongings.” Hook shot a look at Jill. “All of them.”

She smiled.

When Hook was combed and shaven, the two men perfected the fit of his suit. Jill herself buckled on her lover’s sword. Hook cupped her chin and kissed her, thoroughly, then swept up his hat and her heart all at once. “See to my lady, Mr. Smee. I expect her to be perfectly happy. No less.”

Grinning, Smee nodded. “Aye, Commodore. I’m the man for the job.”

“You were created for it.” Hook sent Jill an incendiary smile that set her insides ablaze, then surged from the cabin in a storm of blue velvet.

Smee closed the door behind him. As the master’s footsteps faded, he reached for the hair brush. “Here we are, Lady.” Observing the lovely tint of Jill’s cheeks, Smee waited for her to recover her composure. “Shall we be putting your hair up in that pretty twist today?”

“Yes, Mr. Smee. And I’ll want the sapphire necklace. To match my new bracelet.”

“And to match your gown…and your eyes.” Smee’s husky hands forgot they were holding the brush. He simply stood staring.

Jill smiled and turned her back. “Sit down, Mr. Smee. I want you to take your time.”

“Aye, Lady.” As he had done for the black hair, Smee untangled the golden. Then, using the brush, using his fingers, he set out to comply with his orders. He knew how the lady loved his hands in her hair. Smee kept his eyes on her, avoiding the sight of the other
Lady
gliding behind them— with a handsome gypsy captain astride her bowsprit. Smee found a way to keep Jill’s gaze from straying there.