FicWad

CHAPTER TWELVE

I did not hear him in his room that night, though I stood at the window through the darkest watches. Come the morrow, I bathed quickly in cool water, plied the depilatory and scraper, then stretched out upon a large absorbent drying cloth spread across the bed. One of the downstairs maids, a Dutchwoman massaged me with coconut and rose oils. When I turned onto my back, she saw I’d taken the curls from my mons and crossed herself.

Shortly after, Eza helped me to dress. New garments appeared daily since Etienne’s arrival. Today I chose a white lawn blouse made much like the shirts James favored, a full skirt of vivid scarlet in airy material. I chose a white sash embroidered with red, yellow and pink floral patterns, tied it at my cinched waist. I laced on my sandals and hurried from my room. Halfway down the stairs I heard cannon shot. I had not heard the arrival of Etienne’s Cleopatra and her sister sloop, the Nefrititi. Thus, warnings or heralds I knew not.

The household swarmed to life. Servants I’d not yet seen rushed out of doors. I followed. They shielded their eyes against the rising red-gold sun and I did the same. Soon, a pillar of white smoke rose from the direction of the harbor. A collective gasp of relief swept the assembly. Their sense of reprieve reassured me.

To Eza who stood nearby, I said, “Another ship must have arrived.”

“The Queen Anne’s Revenge,” she whispered. “We were told to expect Himself.”

“Teach,” I murmured. Roughly a fortnight had passed since his name had stricken fear into my being. Speculative curiosity replaced that trepidation.

The Dutchwoman I’d met earlier crossed herself again. She had invoked the Almighty’s protection at seeing the results of my grooming, same as with hearing the name of a nefarious pirate. Although, I had a great deal of catching up to feel myself equal, it flattered me.

In a moment’s clarity I realized my days living by God’s law had ended as well. I’d apologized enough for my gender, my desires.

I took advantage of the confusion and slipped away to the stable. There I put a bridle on the gelding I favored, used a large, upturned wooden pail as a mounting block and departed through the back doors. I had not completely mastered riding bareback. I had to concentrate as I rode for the falls. The terrain demanded much of the gelding and I did all I could to help him.

I hadn’t paid full attention to the scenery yesterday, having been too involved with sensual musings. Yet, I found my way. The muted roar of the falls made me smile. I dismounted, tied the gelding and set about ridding myself of my garments. Sandals I set aside, skirt, sash and blouse I draped over a bush. The strings of my corset gave me great difficulty. I jerked and twisted to no avail.

“Hellfire!” I hissed.

Etienne‘s voice stopped me. “Just in time.”

I turned. He was walking toward me, dressed in a pair of cut-off breeches like James wore in the sea, and what looked like one of Walks Softly’s shirts.

“I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am to see you.”

“Music to a man‘s ears.”

“How did you find me?” I turned and his fingers went to work on my laces.

“I was coming to get you when the herald cannons fired. Unlike the score or so household servants who remained oblivious, I saw you head to the stable.” He tugged a little. “There, cher, we have liberated you.” He spread the offending cage and helped me push it down and step clear. “I had a feeling you were coming here.”

“But how did you make the trip so quickly on foot?”

“I’ve come to know this island. There’s a way too steep and rocky for a horse, that a man may yet climb.” He started to remove his shirt, halted. “With your permission.”

“I’d say take it all off,” I replied walking toward the sparkling water. “But I’ve had my anatomy lesson at last.”

He caught up with me and we waded in together. Then, he dove out and I saw him descending toward the deepest water in the middle. His dark body showed up well even with the sun’s glare. After long moments he ascended, lazily, as if he hadn’t held his breath so very long. I gasped just watching.

He broke the surface far out, turned. “You stand in the shallows.”

“I don’t know how to swim,” I confessed.

He struck out strongly toward me, then stood as the depth allowed. “We shall remedy that.”

#

After a long while swimming, Etienne and I rode tandem to Walks Softly’s home. By then I starved. Walks Softly had sweet corn cakes with chunks of crab meat in them, sliced melon and tea that had been steeped then poured over ice chipped from the block in his cold storage. I’d never had tea thus prepared and became at once enamored.

After we’d eaten, my friends relented to my pleas and I held a cutlass for the first time. In felt far heavier than I expected. Watching me make a few clumsy swipes, Walks Softly stepped up close, adjusted my grip and the angle of my body.

Thus my lessons with weaponry began.

I exhausted myself attempting the most rudimentary functions. Etienne took the blade from me. “We’ll keep working to build that sword arm.”

As he rode back to the villa with me as escort, I asked, “Would Teach see you?”

“What mischief do you ferment , Lili?”

“I wish to invite him to dine with me tonight.”

He laughed. “Have you no fear, cher?”

“Yes,” I answered honestly, “I’m just learning to proceed in spite of it.”

“I will extend the invitation.”

“My gratitude.” I realized the position I had put him in, queried, “Will this cause trouble for you with the captain?”

“I shall worry about that,” he responded, chuckling. “You will have all you can handle with Teach as your guest.”

#

A boy from the town brought me Teach’s reply. First thing, I sent him to inform Etienne, Walks Softly, and James. I entered the forbidden realm of the kitchen and informed the staff. They nearly went into fits as I made requests for formal courses. I smiled, glided away.

I bathed, applied a rose-scented lotion that had magically appeared, doubtless courtesy of Walks Softly, then wrapped myself in a dressing gown and went to my room. A second concoction had appeared. A corked vial of a substance, the smell of which made me wrinkle my nose. With it came directions on a small piece of parchment.

Two swallows, morning and night. -WS.

I took my two swallows and grimaced. It tasted terrible! This matter of fornication had best prove worth the trouble.

Wishing to drive away the flavor, I cleansed my teeth with the paste I used before bedtime and upon waking. Then I rang for Eza to help me dress in a white skirt and blouse with red sash. In a wicked moment, I had her brush out my hair and leave it loose.

Teach and the other men would arrive shortly. I decided to go without shoes under my skirt, went downstairs. The scent of burning candles hung heavily in the air. I proceeded to the dining room. The candles in the chandeliers had already been put to flame, service for five laid, and a large decanter of some amber liquid and glasses waited graciously upon the sideboard. I lifted the stopper, sniffed. I poured a splash into a glass.

Aggressive fumes made me turn away at first. Then, I managed a sip. Velvety warmth pooled in my belly. I recognized the spirit as I experienced the fumes on my palate, for the cook my family employed had often poached pears in it. I took a longer sip of the brandy and sighed. I liked this freedom.

“Miss?”

I turned, Eza stood in the door, reduced to wringing her hands. I heard the booted footfalls, recognized them. The poor girl fled. James entered, closed the door and turned the key sticking in the lock. I set the glass aside, faced him. Dressed in his customary fashion, and all in black, hair loose, he fairly took my breath. To my surprise, he did not appear angry.

“What in the name of God do you think you are doing?”

“Waiting for my dining companions to arrive.”

“You know what I mean.” He wore those large-bore twin pistols I rarely saw him without. “Inviting Teach to sup like a guest.”

“Is he not?” I wondered if my friends would instruct me with firearms as well.

“More of a confederate,” he replied. “Honestly, Lili, I cannot know if I should admire or throttle you.”

I smiled. “The whip, I liked. Throttling I think a bit beyond the pale.”

“We only have a moment,” he said, “I slipped past him along the way. Do not underestimate this man. Teach is not some lackwit you may beguile into trying to take you from me.”

“I did not think to.” However, it interested me James might think I would.

Male voices rose from the direction of the foyer. James twisted the key and opened the door. “Behave. For both our sakes.”

My first look at the infamous Blackbeard caused me to believe the stories. The first thing I noticed of Edward Teach were his black eyes. They blazed at me, full of intelligence and cunning. Swarthy from the sun, black-hair partially covered by a kerchief, jet beard flowing, dressed in simple dark clothes, he exceeded my expectations of menace. Three pistols shoved into bandoliers and two cutlasses fully capped the impression.

James made the introductions. “Mr. Teach, may I present Lady Lili Rothington.”

The pirate bowed slightly, straightened. Those obsidian eyes dissected me boldly. “No bloody wonder, he’s spirited you away, milady.”

I offered my hand. “Call me ‘Lili’. Very pleased to meet you, sir. I can assure you I am doing my most to make him regret it.”

For a heartbeat he said nothing. Then he guffawed and slapped James across the back. “Boy-o, what have you gotten yourself mired in?”

Etienne and Walks Softly entered together. Walks Softly wore his native garments, breechclout and leggings, I knew now. With them, a lovely white gentleman’s shirt with a hint of ruffle at the cuffs. Etienne had dressed all in deep brown save for his snowy shirt. A dagger in a jeweled sheath winked at his slim waist. Together they presented a portrait of masculine beauty. I wondered if Blackbeard knew of their affair, then rather thought he would not.

James played gracious host, yet retained that aura of kingly control. I quizzed our infamous guest about charts and logs, maintaining a ship, and the trade routes. At first he seemed taken aback. Then, over the fowl course, he warmed and waxed almost poetic about the sea and plying its perilous ways. Several times I caught James studying me, his eyes betraying nothing save the keenness of the wits behind.

Teach’s gaze snagged upon my hands as I daintily cut the squab cooked in wine and cream. I spoke from the heart, aware I might touch flame to powder. “I’ll show you to handle a fork like this, if you show me how to eat from a blade.”

He positively roared with mirth. Amid many failed attempts, he managed the correct fork etiquette and I partook squab from a knife. Etienne laughed and funned with us. We three sampled a delicious variety of wines no doubt collected as booty. Walks Softly’s fine lips seemed rather compressed between infrequent bites as he clearly braced himself for some unavoidable calamity. James drank brandy more than he ate, and his eyes hardly strayed from me.

For dessert, we had a choice of cake with lemon curd, or cream steeped with valuable vanilla, then chilled and crushed into strawberries. Blackbeard ate both, I noted.

Afterward, he stood, took a bottle of brandy placed on the sideboard during the meal by a servant, and made his goodnights. I rose and walked with him to the front door.

Left behind in the dining room I could imagine James and Walks Softly awaiting trouble.

Teach paused in the threshold, lit by the twisting torchlight coming from either side of the door. Staring at me with those black eyes reflecting flames, he said, “Man like the captain, he’s a hunter. Let ’im hunt.”

I felt my jaw slacken at his astute grasp of my situation.

He smiled, almost melancholy it seemed. “You’ve whetted me for something finer, milady. I won’t be forgetting you.”

I remained standing there watching him as the landau pulled up from the stables and he stepped aboard. He twisted in his seat, lifted the bottle of spirits as if in salute, and gazed at me once more during the turn toward the road. Despite the near-full moon, the conveyance soon became swallowed in darkness under the arching trees.

I stood there, hearing the infamous man’s advice reverberating in my head. “Let ‘im hunt.”

Blackbeard was a genius.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The next morning after I’d enjoyed a quick, cool bath, and endured that horrible concoction of Walks Softly’s, I stood with Eza choosing from the ever-growing amount of garments in the armoire.

Suddenly the girl gasped, snatched something from it’s place and balled it against herself. I’d had the brief impression of an unusual garment. Paired with her reaction, I knew I would want it.

“Give me that.”

She shook her head furiously.

“Hand me that, Eza.” I willed her to feel my determination. “I won’t ask again.”

She handed the ball of sturdy cream fabric to me. I caught the waist of whatever I held, unfurled it with a snap. “Breeches!” I’d kiss Etienne for this! The breeches I laid across the chair.

Encouraged, I began to dig through the armoire. Something caught my eye. Holding up the odd garment, I realized I held an abbreviated corset. It boasted many differences from the usual: wide straps for the shoulders, molded and stitched cups for the breasts, flexible boning, which did not feel like boning at all, a shortened length that ended just at the lower ribs, front lacing.

I untied the robe’s sash, sent it and the garment to the floor.

“The man’s a veritable prince!”

Eza covered her face with her hands.

I laughed, reached over to tug at her wrists. “Well as might get over that modesty now. I’m wearing both.”

The new undergarment wore perfectly against my skin, thus eliminating need for a shift. The pantilettes wanted adjusting for the breeches. Clad in only my new undergarment, I said, “Fetch me shears.”

Eza fled. I walked to admire my new attire in the looking glass. It granted all the support and visual advantages of a corset, without the breath-stealing restriction and pinch. Stepping closer I studied my skin. Pale gold had replaced the coveted white on my face and throat. I rejoiced. So bared to my gaze, I examined myself. I did see the beauty. Yet, I also saw the lack of true muscle. I yearned for strength and capability.

Eza returned. Her discomfort with my lack of diffidence amused me. She handed me the shears. I flattened the pantilettes upon the bed with the legs aligned. Then, I cut them off above mid thigh. Satisfied, I stepped into them, and next the breeches. A sense of power filled me. I returned to the armoire, chose a white shirt fashioned like those James favored and donned it. I tucked it into the waist of the breeches, wrapped a red sash around my waist, ten bid Eza braid my hair.

My reflection in the looking glass made my heart swell with anticipation. I looked the part of wayward lady.

I left my sandals behind, and went downstairs. Etienne stood in the foyer, dark and rakish. I hurried to him, stretched up on tip-toe to kiss. “My thanks for the new clothes.”

He hugged me with one arm. “You take my breath in them. I welcome the kiss of thanks. Although, I do not deserve it.”

I stepped back, studied his handsome face. “Did you not send clothing to me?”

“I wish I had.”

I followed the path of his gaze over my bare calves and feet. “You have sent nothing?”

He kept my waist with his arm, swept me out-of-doors. “I suspect El Pantera.”

Absolute surprise churned through me. Truly, I held the distinction of best kept prisoner in the Spanish Main. “I cannot believe he gave these to me.”

“Now, you must decide why.”

I mulled upon that for a moment, then said, “I wish to go to the harbor.”

“Oh, no,” he laughed, catching my hand and pulling toward the path to Walks Softly’s, “The captain would call me out, and rightly so.”

“Then I shall go alone.” I tried to twist free his grasp. “Unhand me, pray.”

“The only way you can do what you wish, is with Walks Softly as escort.” He changed his grip, tugged me along. “Take my advice, Lili. I shall help you in your quest.”

#

An hour later, I walked beside my indian friend down a cobble street toward the harbor. He’d sent Etienne to fetch my sandals and insisted I wear them.

Everywhere my eyes touched, industry abounded. Shops, boarding houses and a tavern, all compacted cheek by jowl in a small, busy area. Beyond lie the small houses of the town’s residents. Gulls squawked, dipping and soaring above the docks and green harbor. Masculine voices carried on the same air that streamed beneath the birds’ wings and carried the strong tang of the sea.

Out at the end of a very long plank dock, the Blood Vengeance swayed slightly. I realized the harbor must run very deep indeed to host so large a ship. Etienne’s sister ships, weighed by dropped anchors, bobbed and listed farther out in the water.

A series of wood and stone structures lined the common area before the wooden docks and unloading areas. Curious gazes, and some resentful, followed me as we walked toward one set of buildings. A sign hung suspended by chains from a bracket above the door. It bore only the insignia of a panther. My belly fluttered and I trembled.

Walks Softly opened the door. A rush of cooler air greeted me. My eyes required a moment to adjust. I smelled hints of straw, wood and leather. As my vision adapted, I saw a simple office with receiving space at the side. Two large tables fitted together at a square angle to create one large work surface. Various cabinets and shelves completed the occupants. A doorway behind the desk lead to another room.

I heard movement, boots upon stone and held my breath. He had to duck through the portal. His gaze clashed with mine and I felt the jolt like a physical blow.

Walks Softly said something in Algonquin, then departed.

I stood there, shaking with an onslaught of desire and vulnerability. James strode forward and I stepped to meet him. He gathered me in his arms and the last fiber of my body rejoiced. I opened my mouth to his, welcomed his delving, tempting tongue. Try as might, I could not get close enough to him. He swept me up, carried me through the low doorway. He halted for a moment in the small store room, gazing down at me. I kept silent. He lowered his head, kissed me again, deep and slow and so delicious I felt my scalp tighten as gooseflesh spread over my body.

His mouth left mine. I moaned, reached for him. But he turned, bent to catch the latch of another door with the hand under my knees. It swung wide, he carried me though, paused to close the panel behind us.

“Lock it,” he bid softly.

My fingers trembled as I slid the bolt home. He turned with me, and I saw we had entered a sparse bedroom. Stone floor, cold hearth, chest-of-drawers and a single window draped with white material. A wide bed with a straight-backed chair just beside. Cool dimness prevailed.

I gazed up at him as he laid me upon the bed. I could smell him there, knew he often occupied it. “I wondered where you slept.” Something inside me unfurled for him like the night-blooming jasmine around the villa‘s courtyard. “I feared you warmed some woman’s bed.”

He came down atop me, weight braced above, touch tender upon my flushed face. “How could I seek another, with you filling my thoughts?”

I pulled his face down to me, savoring the heavy silk of his loose hair, the fresh, sinful flavor of him, at once sweet and wicked. His kiss held no anger or punishment and the lushness of it made my body vibrate. His fingers traced my jaw and throat. My skin came alive under the soft caress. His tongue delved deep into my mouth. I felt the neatly-trimmed mustache and beard more acutely in the sensual lull. It hounded home the differences in our bodies.

His mouth lifted a bit, his thumb passed over my lips and I chased it, bit the pad. His lips settled upon my throat, tasting, drawing upon me. I shuddered. All the pleasure recalled pleasures from before. Yet, I found myself in unfamiliar territory. The heat of his mouth moved slowly to follow the descent of my neck to shoulder. The breath whooshed from my lungs. He nipped me there at the juncture and I liquefied.

I longed to question what he intended. However, Teach’s advice rang in my memory. I arched my back, kept one hand buried in his luxuriant hair. My other hand slid down to his shoulder, curving over the rounded muscle. His scent surrounded me. His presence cocooned me.

“I want to see you,” James murmured against my skin, “all of you. Let me.”

It struck me as ever so profound his asking, when he could have demanded or simply done so. I released his thumb, caught it again, licked it and turned my head to him. Our faces almost touching, I nodded.

I pulled the blouse from the waistband of my breeches, untied the sash, bowed my back to pull the shirt up and over my head. The length of my braid flipped free, fell beside my head. James caught the shirt, cast it clear of the bed. His eyes fixed upon my undergarment. Under his gaze, my breasts became heavy, their tips hard.

“I believed Etienne responsible for my new garments,” I whispered. “Yet, they came from you.”

“Thoughts of it deviled me. Knowing what I had held in my hands touched your skin.”

The sweetness of his confession pierced me. Amid shifting position and brief kisses, my fingers aided his removing my sandals and breeches. As we reached together for my sheared pantilettes, I saw his hands trembled a bit. The sharp sensation became an ache behind my ribs. I let him peel them lower, I lifted my hips. A rumbling purr of male pleasure came from him. My courage began to fail me in the face of his gentleness. My heart thumped several beats, almost stopped as the bit of material whispered to the floor. I did not aid as he unlaced the new undergarment, only sat up a bit that he might draw it over my head.

Bare and trembling, I gazed up at his intense face as he ate me with his gaze. Slowly he drew away, sat upon the bed’s edge to remove his shirt and boots.

“No more?” I asked as he came to stretch his length at my side.

“I dare not trust myself, Lili.”

For a moment I could not curb myself. Catching his face in my hands I met his tropical blue-green gaze. “What you seek to preserve, I could end with a taper candle. Then I could have you.”

He closed his eyes. “Do not tempt me into discussion or act. Not now. I beg you, let me just enjoy."

He moved down a little and I cried out at the touch of his lips to the upper curve of my breast. Silky-cool hair whispered over my skin. Hungrily, his mouth explored me, drawing upon my flesh, then touching my nipple. I nearly jerked upright in the bed. His voice soothed me, though I did not hear the words. He sucked my nipple into the velvet heat of his mouth and I thrashed. He treated each with equal attention, then lavished more upon the under curves of my breasts.

Having known the height of pleasure, my body rapidly began to seek it. I did not object to his damp, hungry lips tracing my ribs and belly. James shifted again, knowing and graceful. I gazed down at his flowing hair as it trailed ever lower. He paused, took that small braid from under that lion’s mane, twisted it around twice and tucked the copper-beaded end under the wrap. It kept his hair back as his dropped slow, plucking kisses down the slope of my belly.

Part of me noted the practiced ease.

Every inch of my skin fluttered and quivered as his mouth reached my mons. His weight braced at my side, he placed one hand upon my other thigh and urged it outward. I shivered, opening for him. He groaned, lifted the leg closest to him and rather ducked under.

Involuntary feminine reaction made me shimmy up the bed, away from the vulnerable position. He followed, quick, anticipatory. My back hit the high bolster upon the bed. James’ hands gripped my hips, and he leaned down to flick his tongue over that jewel of sensation between my legs in a bold strike. My entire pelvis melted and I reached to hold his splendid mouth to me.

My cries of delight filled the small room. I clawed at his neck and shoulders, primitive in my need to mark his flesh as my own as he claimed mine. Bewitching lustful pleasure built in a frightening wave. His tongue entered the sheath of my body and I screamed, rolling head and shoulders up from the mattress. My legs shook. I panted and felt as if my skin could not contain the satisfaction buffeting within.

He moved up over me, tasting me, claiming. I held out my arms. He came over me and I held him tight, still shaking violently from the aftershocks of pleasure. The feel of his wide, hard, warm chest against me was divine. I longed to curl inside his heat and bask.

The insistent rigidity of arousal under his breeches shook me from my lassitude. I reached between our bodies to rub that marble length. He groaned.

“Let me touch you.”

“You are,” he growled.

I pushed him and he allowed me to topple him over onto his back. Brazen, curious, I opened his breeches and released his erection. I made myself comfortable, leaned closer to study the aggressive hardness. Hardly realizing what I intended, I leaned down and pressed a kiss upon the smooth crown. His hips lifted and his hands came to cradle my head. I flipped my braid to the side, opened my mouth to taste him.

“Lili, do not.” The words a hushed, husky whisper.

I licked the velvety skin, testing the texture. He shuddered. I smiled. “You do not like my mouth upon you?”

He growled, hands restless upon my head. I took him into my mouth, closing my eyes and savoring the slide of him over my lips and tongue. I drew back, opening my eyes, letting his shiny wet erection from my mouth. Poised at the tip, I whispered, “Show me what pleases you.”

He guided my movements, gentle and amid constant praise. His hips began to lift to meet each movement. Given my experience with climax, I recognized his approaching. I indulged his every direction, until he moved me and I watched his seed erupt onto his brown belly. In that instant, the loneliness of it pricked me. I had peaked with his mouth to my core.

James pulled me up to him. I touched the wetness of his seed as we kissed, wanting, in some pale way to share his little death.


He carried water in a basin to lightly wash my tingling skin. My questing gaze noted he’d cleaned himself while gone. Naked and shameless, I lounged in his bed where we had shared passion. Watching him set aside the basin, I said, “I meant it, about breaching this bit of skin myself.”

He stretched along at my side, head upon the bolster, face to face. His fingers flickered over my face. “I know you do, Lili.”

I scooted to press myself against him, wrap my arm under his, over his torso. “I dream of you inside me.”

His lashes lowered. “How can you not hate me?”

“You saved me, James.” Sharp emotion sliced me. “You rescued me from a life of silent submission.”

He met my gaze with sudden ferocity. “I will kill your fiancé!”

“I never met him, nor knew his given name.” I felt the violent vibration in him. “Tell me how he wronged you.”

A shadow sealed his expression. Then emotion flickered in his lovely eyes. “My parents and youngest brother, Henry.” He paused. I noted he referred to Henry as youngest brother. Clearly, he included his indian sibling as a true relation. James inhaled. “They decided to travel to a family friend’s house in the Caribbean. En route, Major Giles Huntington deemed the vessel a pirate ship, fired directly and crippled the Far Horizon.”

I touched him wherever I could, anxious to soothe, restless to savor him. “Tell me.”

James entire body gave a shudder unlike climax. It recalled the Gallant’s death throes. “My mother died in the broadside. Major Huntington hanged my father and fourteen-year-old brother as pirates.”

The pain in his voice made me hide my face in his chest. I clung. “I am so sorry.”

The timbre of his voice vibrated my nose pressed to his body. “Huntington covered his mistake by sinking the Far Horizon with all hands aboard. He believed his crime unknown.”

I hesitated. “How did you learn?”

“Huntington had a prisoner he’d overlooked in his rabid violence. That prisoner told Teach.”

I kept silent, holding James, absorbing his story.

El Pantera to the Spanish, The Hunter to the English, deserved to hunt in his righteous anger.


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