Other Oceans: Book Two of the Hook & Jill Saga (51 page)

Hanover flinched at the sound of renting fabric. For one moment, he recalled Hook’s claw tearing its way out of its sleeve. As he lowered himself into the chair, he wondered for the hundredth time how he would ever disentangle himself from this web of deceit. His bones turned brittle as he realized that in officially allying himself with these buccaneers, he had bound himself more firmly than he could have imagined. Even his signature was trapped now. His own pirate name was listed boldly in their book, right under the elegant script of the lady and the scrawly signatures of her sons, Nibs the Knife and Tom Tootles.

Hanover saw now, quite clearly, how mistaken he had been to believe his friend Captain Cecco would prove easier to escape than his enemy Captain Hook. And most important, Hanover no longer blamed Jill for anything. If the brilliant Doctor Johann Heinrich had to wage a struggle of epic proportions to outmaneuver these pirates, how could a woman— a woman with such a passion for riches— be expected to prevail? The surgeon’s damaged heart warmed to her, a fellow sufferer. Like he, she was a victim of the vices these buccaneers embraced by the armful!

His earnings disappeared clattering into a leather pouch in Cecco’s hand. Dragging his gaze away, Hanover pressed his handkerchief to his upper lip. Then, gathering his forces, he tucked it tidily away. When every last diamond was caught, Cecco drew the pouch strings tight and knotted them.

Hanover raised his eyes to meet the captain’s. “Sir. In spite of this inconvenience, I want you to understand that I regret no part of our association. I intend to make my service as dedicated as every other man’s.”

“I admire your magnanimity, Doctor, and I thank you for it.”

“I hope you will grant one favor in token of my— cooperation.”

“What is it you would ask of me?” Casually, Cecco tossed the bag of jewels to his desktop. It landed with a satisfying chunk.

“Allow me to extend my apologies to the lady. Personally.”

To his astonishment, Captain Cecco smiled. “Agreed!” Yulunga grunted in surprise. Both the surgeon and the mate stared as the captain said, “As I indicated to my Jill, I can be a generous master. Under trying circumstances, you have shown me deference this afternoon, Doctor, and this should be rewarded.”

“You mean to say— you will grant my request?”

“Certainly! I will arrange for you to meet with my mistress and clear the air once and for all.” Cecco stood, snatched his knife from the desktop, and stowed it in his belt. “I shall be delighted to see the two of you put the past into the proper perspective. And I give you my sacred word that I will see to it, Doctor Hanover….But…I am afraid…” He grinned, and, shaking his head slowly, pronounced the two words that, in any accent, Hanover most hated to hear.

“Not today!”

Chapter 20

Surrender

S
hocked by Hook’s attack, Liza couldn’t breathe. His grip forced her down. Under his sudden surge of attention, her heart pounded with excitement. The hand that encircled her throat so easily was warm, his chains stretched to their fullest extent. She stared into his brilliant blue eyes, waiting for him to kill her.

Afire with fury, he hissed, “Where is your father, girl?”

She blinked. His fingers tightened. Her eyes rolled upward, toward the captain’s quarters.

“Where are my keys?”

Again, her eyes directed upward. Under his weight, the pain from last night’s beating shot through her thighs.

His grip eased. “Get me some water. Now.” His demand sounded parched, a shade of the voice that commanded her to lie still more than a day ago. Liza nodded, regretting the feel of his body rolling away from her. The flask her father had provided was tucked between the mattress and the board. She reached for it, feeling her master’s ring bobble on her finger. Quickly, she slid the jewel off and stowed it under her pillow.

With his chains clinking behind her back, Hook felt of his head, and grunted. When Liza sat up to pass the flagon, he raised up on one elbow, reaching for it greedily. Seeing him pull the cork with his teeth, she realized her mistake— of course he couldn’t use two hands. She should have opened it for him. She captured the cork and watched, disappointed but fascinated, as he gulped half the contents in one draught. She wouldn’t have much time.

She thrilled as he shifted his gaze to her, catching his breath. His voice continued harsh. “Why am I still alive?” As she shook her head, he scowled in impatience. With his next sentence, he answered her question— he did remember her voice!

“I grant you permission to speak.” His eyes narrowed. “Why hasn’t he killed me?”

Liza smiled. Her sound had pleased him! She opened her lips and breathed deeply. Some precious moments passed before she could manage to say one word.

“Master…”

“Answer the question!” More striking than ever, his features sharpened with anger.

“Because of me.”

“You?” Hook’s face relaxed. “Ah…the good doctor cannot kill in front of his daughter.” The surgeon’s dilemma seemed to please him.

“He has sworn the physician’s oath.”

Hook sneered. “Yes, his sacred word. Yet his conscience allows for his daughter to administer his potions.” He took another drink of it. “I’ve no time to waste. You will fetch me those keys. When I awaken tonight, you will have them ready.”

He was hazarding everything on this creature’s willingness. Feeling her touch his body as he returned to the world, he had known the surgeon wasn’t near. The lack of noise indicated no one who might be of aid was close, either. Hook had assumed the keys to his chains were with his captor, wherever he was, and the girl had confirmed that assumption. But she showed herself to be besotted with her ‘master.’ Surely she would do whatever he asked. Again, the quickest victory would suit Hook’s purpose. He didn’t care how he secured it.

“But—”

“I’ve no time to parley. What do you want in exchange?”

She who had been silent so long didn’t hesitate to express her desires. Her gray eyes burned like coals, and her low voice resonated. “Make me your mistress!”

Already, his eyelids felt heavy, yet he downed another draught of water. He’d imbibed not a drop since his capture. Hook had few choices, but he would choose the time to exercise those options he held. At this moment, his body needed fluid more than consciousness.

Liza itched to seize the flask, but by now it was too late. When he lowered it, his lips were wet. His hoarse voice whispered, “Keep me alive…”

Before she could stop him, he swallowed the last of the flagon’s contents. His hand went limp, relinquishing it. He fell back heavily onto the bed, his long black hair spread all around him. She tossed the flask aside and heaved herself on top of him, one hand on either side of his face to claim a kiss before his lips became inert. Liza licked the moisture from them. Then she stroked his hair again, gazing on his handsome face.

Liza felt herself smile. He still wanted her. All she had to do was care for him, as she would have done in any case. When he woke again, she would have food ready for him, and untainted water. The cabin would be dark, the ship quiet. Her father hadn’t slept much at all last night. He would be so exhausted by evening that he should sleep soundly. Liza would make sure of it.

She rose and felt for the cork. Clutching it and the flagon, she climbed down from her bunk, drew the bed curtain closed, and refilled the vessel from a jug of water she’d drawn in the galley. She left the flask on her father’s desk to indicate the need for more sleeping draught, then padded to her bureau. She rummaged until she found a petticoat, one made of flannel, and her sewing scissors. She tossed them into her bunk. Glancing at the door as she climbed, she estimated the time before her father might return. She should have a good chance to tear the petticoat into strips. Only the ripping must be finished before her father walked in. Later on, she could take her time threading the strips of flannel through the links. Her agile fingers could easily weave the material into the iron. Then the clanking would be muffled. After he retired to his bed, her father wouldn’t know Hook moved in the bunk above him, earning his freedom and enslaving a heart. Once her master had partaken of food and drink, he could take all night to do it, if he wanted. No one, not even her father, would be aware of what was happening as a bold little girl became this magnificent man’s woman.

For once, Liza relished the quiet. She had spoken to her master now. Sounds weren’t important anymore. She had looked her fill at him in this last night and day. Sight, like sound, would be secondary tonight. Only touch would be significant when he rallied— sensation. The feelings of thirsts being slaked and hungers satisfied. She knew what he wanted, and he knew of her desire. Both a man and a woman would awaken in the darkness of this evening. Liza’s pulse throbbed in anticipation. It would be a long, soundless night.

Rousing herself, she tended to the matter at hand, clipping cuts in the fabric of her petticoat. Taking it between her fists, she tore away strip after strip.

As from a great distance, Hook heard the scream of rending cloth. It puzzled him, but the sound was not enough to call him from the shadows, nor did he stir as the cold band of the jewel slid onto his finger. Vaguely, he heard a door open and click closed, and then his mind retreated where his senses couldn’t follow.

The medicine bag, much lighter than before, settled onto the desk with a thud.

“Liza.” Hanover’s clipped voice spoke in approval. He turned to blink at the girl sitting primly at the table with her sewing basket in front of her. “You persuaded him to drink it?”

Unable to restrain her smile, she nodded.

Flipping up the bed curtain, Hanover peered into the upper bunk to reassure himself. “That, at least, is a good thing. And I have made sure of our privacy. Now all we need is a miracle!” His coat lay folded over his arm. He held it out to Liza, and on the instant she hurried toward him to receive it.

“Stitch up the lining, Liza. I will prepare another draught, but next time he becomes conscious, I expect I will be forced to use the ether again. No matter. It will serve to keep him thirsty.”

Wondering how the coat had torn, Liza worked it with her fingers. As she felt the absence of the little stones, her eyes questioned her father.

“Never mind. I have a question for
you
. How did your mother’s pearl ring bring luck to Captain Cecco?”

Liza’s eyes widened.

“Well?”

She hung the coat over her arm. Miming a grip on invisible bars, Liza indicated her imprisonment. She kissed one of her hands, and at the same time made the motion of drawing off her ring.

Her father nodded. “And?”

She thought for a moment while the truth became clear to her. Plainly, she remembered the mistress’ indulgent tone as the woman realized Cecco had stolen Liza’s ring. The theft was just an excuse for the sailor to approach the mistress. Cecco had guessed Liza would ask for her ring, and he used it like a key to unlock the lady’s door!

Pleased to have driven the wedge between Hook and Jill before meeting either one of them, Liza managed to mask her smile. Instead, she spread her right hand flat and stroked it to signify Jill’s red hand. Then, bunching the fingers of her other hand as if to hold a ring, she deposited it in her palm. Kissing her hand again, she watched her father’s scar darken as comprehension dawned.

“So! The gypsy used us from the very beginning!” Angrily, Hanover stared past his daughter into the mirror. “That ring brought Captain Cecco very good fortune, indeed.” He untied the black ribbon, allowing his hair to fall loose. “Mr. Yulunga now has the pearls.”

Liza’s head snapped up.

“As far as I am concerned, he can keep them. In spite of Mr. Yulunga’s jibes, Captain Cecco is unlikely to share his luck with even his first mate.”

Hanover didn’t understand, but his daughter did. She stepped back, staring at the floor. Mr. Yulunga possessed her pearls…and he would use them, just as Cecco had! But her father needn’t worry about the mistress; the African would pursue his luck in another quarter. Liza’s knees went weak as she wondered. Did the prohibition against touching Jill’s girl still apply? Did Cecco care if his men pursued her? Maybe a withdrawal of his guardianship was her punishment for intruding on the master’s quarters last night. The only man who had ever protected Liza now lay unconscious in her bed, and not one of his sailors knew he lived. No wonder Mr. Yulunga engaged her this morning! He was Cecco’s right-hand man. He would be first to act when Liza was fair game. Beyond a doubt, the offer of earrings was his initial advance. Again, the thought of the brutal African made her dizzy, and the room spun as she planted her feet more firmly on the boards. Hearing her father’s voice, Liza looked up in time to see him standing with his hair loosened, handing her the ribbon.

“Put this away. I will ready the flask.” He turned his back to open his valise.

Steadying herself, Liza obeyed, then crept behind her father to observe his movements. He removed the cork from the flagon and drew a vial of liquid from his bag. After measuring out a half teaspoon, he poured it deftly into the water, resealed the flask, and shook it. He didn’t look at her as he passed it along. “Put this flask where you can reach it.”

She nodded and, standing on the lower bunk to reach the upper, tucked it away. Liza turned as she stood, so that she could see where her father replaced the vial. Its amber fluid matched the one Jill secreted in the drawer under the master’s bed. With these observations, a sense of power flowed through Liza’s veins, as if she had drunk it from one of those bottles. New knowledge inspired it, and she smiled to herself. Like a dutiful daughter, she sat down in front of her work basket. As she rubbed the gray velvet against her cheek, she thought again how grateful she was to her mistress. Each of her father’s medicines was labeled, their dosages marked in his neat hand.

And now, Liza could read them.