Winterwood, p.13
Winterwood, page 13
part #1 of Rowankind Series
“You keep rowankind?” I asked as the butler left.
“He’s free to come or go as he wishes, though since leaving means a sea voyage I doubt he’ll ever go. He was brought here in misery by a Portuguese who didn’t understand that rowankind can’t survive on the sea. Your Davy didn’t take sick?”
“A little, but I suspect he’s not full-blood.”
“You may be right, though you don’t get many of those. Rowankind make lackluster lemen, as I understand it. I’ve never tried one. I had a China girl once. They say the French are good lovers, but I’ve always fancied a cool-cheeked English rose.”
He looked at me sideways as if trying to judge my reaction. I looked away in some confusion, my earlier thoughts returning to make me blush. I was not altogether immune to the glint in his eye. He was a handsome devil with near-black tousled curls, a strong, weather-browned face with a straight spear of a nose and dark-lashed eyes. Beneath his shirt, the width of his shoulders indicated a wiry strength.
I felt a certain stirring.
Well, it had been three years . . .
The candle flames guttered. Three years, Will! I muttered under my breath. Should I remain a nun forever?
12
Gentleman Jim
JIM MAYO WAS SMART AND CHARMING, if untrustworthy. I began to tremble at the thoughts that surfaced. I hadn’t come here for this, had I? Now I knew David wasn’t hanging by his thumbs over a tar pit I could relax a little. I certainly wasn’t afraid of Mayo, black though his piratical reputation may have been. He’d been a civilized and sophisticated host five years ago. I’d never asked about his background, but he was obviously educated, maybe even from a good family before some misdemeanor had sent him to sea.
“If we are to know each other better, tell me about yourself,” I said. “How did you come to piracy?”
He smiled a lazy smile. “Only if you’ll return the confidence. Tremayne was a wanted man in Plymouth, I understand.”
“Mine’s a simple tale.” Simple enough if I left the magic out of it. “My father had four ships. He was lost at sea while my brother was too young to step into his shoes. My mother tried to manage his fleet, but had little aptitude for it, never having taken any interest before being widowed. Will and I already had an understanding, and Father had promised the Heart as my dowry, but my mother had other ideas. We decided to elope. My mother set the redcoats on us. One was killed, and Will blamed for it.”
He made conciliatory tsk-tsk kind of sounds, leaned forward and pushed back a stray lock of my hair, just as Will used to do. “And you had so little time to enjoy each other.”
“Four years.”
“I don’t believe I ever had occasion to offer my condolences. Tremayne was a fair man with a level head on him. Twice during our talks here he turned a bad situation around. He talked Black Jock Booth down from calling out Alexander Armstrong over an affair of the heart with one of my girls, and he pushed through an equitable agreement when Henry Crook would have set pirate against privateer in a war that would have done no good to anyone.”
I nodded. “Will always had a powerful helping of common sense. What about you, though? You’ve had my story, now it’s your turn.”
“My family had—still has, I expect—a plantation in Virginia. With three older brothers, I was never in line to inherit much, so my father determined I should have a profession. He sent me to be educated at the College of William and Mary in Virginia, to study divinity, can you believe?” He laughed. “Unfortunately that was very shortly before my country and yours had a serious argument over taxation and I absconded to join a militia. If I have one very serious piece of advice it’s never to get roaring drunk with your comrades in a seaport while the fleet is recruiting. Portsmouth, Virginia was my downfall. When I came to my senses the ground was rolling beneath me in a somewhat unfamiliar manner and I perceived myself to be at sea. To make matters worse, it was a French ship of the line, a third-rater called the Jason in the fleet of Rear Admiral Destouches.”
He shook his head. “I had a few disagreements with my sudden transfer from the militia to the navy, but to my surprise, and to that of my captain, a fine sailor by the name of Jean de la Clocheterie, I took to the ocean. In recognition of my education I was elevated to the grand position of his cabin steward, where, I may say, I prospered. It’s surprising what you can learn once you’ve acquired a position of trust. I survived the battle of the Chesapeake in 1781, was on board the Jason at the Battle of Mona Passage a year later when she was captured by the British. I had no liking for the idea of being at the mercy of King George, who had a tendency to insist that Americans were subjects of the Crown and therefore eligible to become cannon fodder in the Royal Navy, so along with a few compatriots I contrived to escape in a ship’s jolly boat, and we made the shores of Hispaniola, where there are many opportunities open to a young man of keen intelligence and fighting spirit.”
“You became a pirate?”
He bowed his head in acquiescence.
“It took another few years before I was in a position to captain my own ship, but I’m a fast learner and I didn’t waste much time.”
“And your family?”
“They didn’t need me. Otherwise they’d never have sent me away to college. As long as I don’t enquire, they are safe and well and living in my head just as they always did.”
“Twenty years and you never once enquired?”
He shrugged. “Not once. I have a new family.” He waved expansively toward the inn and to Ravenscraig. “Your own family . . .”
“Yes, it’s complicated,” I sighed. “And I, too, have a new family.”
“Ah, madam, I would be happy to welcome you into my family. We could be allies.”
“Piracy? I think not.”
“And what is it that you do now? Legalized piracy, is it not?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to discuss ethics with a man of the reputation of Gentleman James Mayo.
He laughed again. An easy laugh. “Don’t fear, my dear Captain. I shall not force anything upon you tonight.” He emphasized the word: anything. “You are entirely safe in my hands. You can trust me on that.”
Trust. Strangely I did trust that my person was safe with him, though I might not trust him with my money or my ship.
He reached across the table and took my hand in his, running his strong thumb across my knuckles, still bruised from the action on the Lydia. He tsk-tsked again and raised my hand to his lips. A little shiver of pleasure ran down my spine.
“Just what are you offering, Captain Mayo?”
“A respite, a gentle dalliance, a night of passion, a lifetime of protection. What is it that you seek, madam?”
I felt a quivering in the pit of my belly. Did I really need to justify this to myself? Isn’t this what I’d intended all along? Quick, before I lost my nerve.
“I don’t know if I qualify as a cool-cheeked English rose.” I ignored the remainder of the dinner and stood up.
Gentleman Jim was on his feet and around that table so quickly that I didn’t actually remember him moving until his lips were crushing the life out of mine. I’d had better kisses, but not recently. I pressed up close. I could feel him, ramrod stiff, thrust against my belly. With his left hand firmly in the center of my back holding me tight to his hips, he leaned me back and hastily pulled my shirt out of the grip of my sash, groping for my breasts. As love-play went, it wasn’t subtle.
He groaned. “Lord, if I don’t get out of these breeches soon, I’ll burst the buttons.”
My belly churned. Fight or flight. Not quite the reaction I was looking for, but close enough. I could do this. It was time.
The candle flames flickered again. It’s not adultery. You’re dead, Will.
I remembered Will’s lips on mine, the way his beard tickled; his scent—man, honest sweat, tar, salt and a hint of rum; the way I always felt between my legs, hollow until he was inside me. Oh, Will.
There’d never been anyone else but Will.
I took a deep breath.
This would be on my terms.
“Slow down, Captain Mayo. I’m not a tuppenny whore.”
The window crashed open as if pounded by a sudden gust of wind. Both candelabra toppled sideways, extinguishing the candles. Despite what he occasionally said, Will was a jealous ghost.
Jim pushed up my shirt and kissed my breasts. “One moment, dear lady.” He closed the window and relit the candles with a taper from the fire.
“That’s enough, Will,” I muttered softly. “Let me have this.”
Jim turned back to me, window safely latched. “Where were we?”
I took his right hand and placed it beneath my shirt, on my breast. “Here.”
There was no empty ache between my legs, only a slight tremble in my stomach. I can do this. It was too late to change my mind.
Jim’s thumbs made free with my nipples and they responded.
“Tell me what you like.” His voice was soft and low in my ear.
I hadn’t expected anything more than cooperating with what Jim liked.
“I want you to take it slowly. It’s been a long time for me.” With a living man, anyway.
“There’s been no one since Tremayne?”
“No.”
“Dear lady, I’m honored.”
He swept me against him and almost danced us into the adjoining bedroom, the bed freshly made and turned down and a couple of lanterns burning softly. He’d been expecting this, or at least hoping for it. Damn him!
“May I?” He drew my shirt off up and over my head, his fingers tracing warm lines up my ribs as he gathered the folds of cloth in his capable fists. He gazed at my breasts in the soft lamplight and twirled me round as if in a dance then divested me of breeches and hose, his gaze hungry. In one smooth movement he reached behind my head to untie my ribbon and let my hair swirl about my shoulders.
“Enough dallying, lady.” He lifted me on to the bed. “It’s time to give you what you deserve.”
My emotions were all over the place. While I wanted him, I almost hated him for his consideration. If he’d shoved himself between my legs and fucked me like a whore I could have kept my image of Will as the perfect lover. What Will and I had was special. How could another man make me feel like that?
I closed my eyes tight. He’s NOT Will. Not Will.
Jim proceeded to attend to me with fingers, lips, tongue and teeth until—I confess—I was a jelly with no brain, giving back as good as I got. Tremors roiled through me. He swept me right over the edge. The moment stretched. My heart slowed to a steady rhythm. A dangerous lethargy swept over me. If I kept my eyes closed I could imagine . . .
He settled his weight between my thighs and his lips pressed down on mine. His tongue forced my teeth apart and invaded my mouth until I feared I would choke. I slapped my hand twice against his shoulder and he eased back. Resting his weight on one elbow, he brushed my hair back from my face, and finally I opened my eyes and I looked up at him. Dark and angular, fierce and intense, instead of copper-brown and smiling. Could I abandon myself to him? He was strong. He would protect me. With everything that had happened, the idea of relinquishing responsibility was tempting.
He’s not Will. Had I almost fooled myself for a moment? His weight pinned me at the hips.
“Ross. Rossalinde.” His voice was throaty and low and there was a catch in it.
Please don’t spoil it. Please don’t say you love me. I couldn’t bear it. Filling my body doesn’t fill my heart.
“Shh,” I said, taking his face between my two hands and staring into his eyes. “Just do it.”
With a groan he parted me quickly and thrust himself inside.
I threw my head back and gasped, opening my eyes—
And there was Will staring at us from the ceiling. The look on his face killed my passion stone dead, not that Jim noticed, caught in the rhythm of the oldest dance of all.
It was as if it was happening to someone else, and though I tilted to meet him I’d lost the moment. I felt curiously uninvolved. Please let it be over soon.
Jim groaned in his final spasm and then, like a puppet bereft of strings, he collapsed down on to me. Tears trickled down my cheeks.
“Let me breathe.” I pushed him sideways.
Now I truly felt like that tuppenny whore. I’m sorry, Will.
The lantern flames guttered. Don’t be angry. There were no boy whores. This was the best I could manage. I thought I was ready. It was a mistake.
“Oh, you beauty. My lovely, lovely girl.” At length Jim raised himself on one elbow, bent his head and kissed my breasts. “Tears? Should I be flattered?”
He wiped them away with his thumb and I tried to smile, but my lower lip trembled. He’d been as gentlemanly as his nickname. It had been my mistake, not his, but now I wanted to run screaming from the room.
“You set my belly on fire,” he whispered. “Give me but a minute and we’ll go again and I’ll pleasure you any way you like it. Every way you like it.”
“No!”
I wriggled sideways and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, drying myself on a corner of his sheet, thankful that it was early in my monthly cycle and I was safe from conceiving. That would be too ironic after taking so much care not to let myself get with child again.
“What?”
“Enough’s enough, Jim. I’ll hardly be able to waddle tomorrow as it is.”
I reached for my breeches and dragged them on to my sweaty body, ignoring my hose and shoving my feet straight into my shoes. I dragged my shirt over my head, not caring that I left it loose.
“Was it something I said? Something I did?” He leaped off the bed to stand in front of me and stop me from running out of the bedroom.
“No, you were—” I looked up at him and tried to be honest. “You were . . . I didn’t expect . . . I’m just overwhelmed. I need to leave.”
“You can’t go now. You have to stay. Stay with me, Rossalinde. Forever. Please.”
“What? No!” It came out a little louder than I’d intended. I ducked around him and ran into the main room, remembering the poker in the fireplace. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
The candle flames guttered and died, and the window crashed open once again. I could feel Will’s agitation and it fed mine.
Get out now, Ross. Get out! Will was in my head again, though I couldn’t see him.
“I’m trying to,” I muttered under my breath.
Jim turned quickly to the window and then away from it and back to me. “I can’t lose you. Not now!”
Ross, get down. Away from the window! Move!
With Jim the more obvious threat, I didn’t register the urgency of Will’s words quickly enough.
“You can’t lose what you never had, Jim. That was nice, truly, but it wasn’t a commitment.”
Jim grabbed me in a fierce embrace and held me, burying my face in his naked chest.
The window exploded inwards, shards of glass flying across the room. I heard Jim gasp and then swear. He leaped back and turned to the window. His back and buttocks ran with blood from glass cuts.
You’ve gone too far this time, Will, I thought, but then a second explosion, bigger than the first, shook the building to its foundations, and I realized it wasn’t Will.
“Is this your doing?” Jim turned on me.
Hellish flames blossomed in the town, lighting his face and his blood-slick bare body.
“Hardly. Your back is full of glass. That could have been my face.”
A third explosion shook the air. Jim cursed, hopped around on one foot getting into his breeches, and ran for the door.
I counted to five and then followed. On the landing outside I met David coming up the front stairs at a dead run. “The box! Have you got it? Let’s go.”
“Box?” I hadn’t even thought about it. “It’s on the mantel.”
He dashed into the room and out again, shoving the box into the long pocket on his waistcoat front. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward a door and on to a narrow landing above the servants’ stairs.
I followed him down into the chaos of the kitchen.
Two gunboats off the harbor bar, a voice yelled. Then four. Then ten. The Royal Navy! Barbary pirates! The American fleet! All took the blame in swift succession. Another explosion. Debris flew. Flames flared outside. Somebody screamed for water, and miraculously the chaos ordered itself into a bucket chain.
I heard the order to close the harbor gate.
“Let’s get going before they close the landward gates as well,” I said.
“This way. Quick.” David dragged my sleeve.
We ran out of the yard, toward the nearest gate, and through it while the guard was busy. Another explosion to my left stung my face with flying earth. On the headland I could see Jim’s gun crews loading to return fire.
“Wait!” I ran to the nearest gun battery.
Jim’s gun crews worked together like a good team, but targeting in pitch darkness was next to impossible. Jim had his glass to his eye and was calling out distances, but until the ships fired a broadside he couldn’t pinpoint them.
I could help.
“Give me your glass.” I held out my hand. When he ignored me I snatched it from him. As I put it up to my own eye I called light into the paired lenses. Below the town, maybe a third of a mile outside the harbor, two English ships of the line cruised like sharks.
“Two,” I said. “English. This should help.”
I handed him the glass back. The magic would last for less than an hour but it would be enough to let him target the warships more effectively. He didn’t even thank me, but began to direct his gunners, all business. I ran back to David.
