Dark of the Moon (22/36)
A little more Dark of the Moon.
[22]
Letty slept peacefully that night, so it should have followed that Jack did, too. However, on waking in the dark just before dawn and his call to watch, bits of his dreams wove through his memory, fleeting, vivid and full of his troublesome cabin mate. Only, in the dreams, she hadn’t been troublesome, precisely.
There was that smile she’d given as he smoothed her hair, just last night. And there was that look of combined laughter and shy admiration, the one she’d worn the other day, when he’d been recounting some of his more daring exploits. Eyes wide, pretty blue as the seas hereabouts; the breeze tugging strands of pale gold from her braid that drifted about her face; nose and cheeks pink from the sun, lips a deeper shade: coral maybe. And then there was another dream, something darker, a rhythm of drums and thumping blood, of controlled force and delicious surrender, and was that fierce need returned to him, just for a moment, surely he’d not mistaken it?
Oh, he’d take advantage of that, given the least chance! And he had an idea it would be worth all the trouble, too. Take it slow, that’s what’d work with her, the kind of slow Bill and Tobias had teased him about that first night. He was well practiced in taking it slow, thanks. Lord knew he’d had enough opportunity, with all sorts of girls and women. Who was he to deny them what they wanted, when it was exactly what he wanted himself?
You need to be wise for the both of you. The admonishing words echoed and, moreover, held the resonance of truth. Bill should know, certainly, his idyll with the staid Mary having been the stuff of high drama. It had ultimately turned out well for the two, or as well as could be expected. They loved each other, that was beyond question, though Mary had to share Bill with his other love. It was Mary’s tragedy, the same one that’d been reenacted by women throughout history, every time man laid down the plow to follow the Siren’s song.
The sort of love that was between Bill and Mary wasn’t in the cards for Jack. He enjoyed the easy, superficial banter of a flirtation, or the headier excitement and comforts of an affaire, but when it came down to it his heart and mind were given to one lady only: the Black Pearl. He was hers. And, someday, she would be his.
And the pretty little Widow Granger, for all her seeming innocence and theatrical flights, had an odd streak of practicality, too. A flirtation, aye. An affaire, perhaps. Jack had chosen to play knight-errant, protecting her from harm, but she knew what he was, and that he and his captain would soon be contacting Mordecai Huff regarding suitable compensation for said protection.
Jack frowned. The idea of ransoming Letty held little appeal for him, though the captain seemed set on it.
Later that day, when he and Tobias were going over Bootstrap’s accounts in the Great Cabin, Jack casually broached the subject.
Tobias lifted a quizzical brow. “Growin’ fond of ‘er, are you lad?”
Jack chuckled. “Aye, a bit. She’s surprising, in certain ways.”
His mentor grinned. “Oh, that kind are, don’t I know it? But be careful how you handle ‘er. Make sure she understands the rules before you go playin’ that game. As for the ransom, think Jack: the more Huff has to pay, the more certain he’ll be we’ve guarded her proper, neither used or misused her in any way. Don’t have to be entirely true. Even if you bed her, the girl won’t say anything as long as you treat her well - which I’ve no doubt you will. So where’s the harm?”
Jack saw the logic in this, and yet, against all reason, he still could not like the scheme. But he did not tell his captain. He’d not disappoint John Tobias for the world. And besides, there was every chance that something would occur to him, something that would allow him to avoid disappointing Letty, as well.
*
TBC
[22]
Letty slept peacefully that night, so it should have followed that Jack did, too. However, on waking in the dark just before dawn and his call to watch, bits of his dreams wove through his memory, fleeting, vivid and full of his troublesome cabin mate. Only, in the dreams, she hadn’t been troublesome, precisely.
There was that smile she’d given as he smoothed her hair, just last night. And there was that look of combined laughter and shy admiration, the one she’d worn the other day, when he’d been recounting some of his more daring exploits. Eyes wide, pretty blue as the seas hereabouts; the breeze tugging strands of pale gold from her braid that drifted about her face; nose and cheeks pink from the sun, lips a deeper shade: coral maybe. And then there was another dream, something darker, a rhythm of drums and thumping blood, of controlled force and delicious surrender, and was that fierce need returned to him, just for a moment, surely he’d not mistaken it?
Oh, he’d take advantage of that, given the least chance! And he had an idea it would be worth all the trouble, too. Take it slow, that’s what’d work with her, the kind of slow Bill and Tobias had teased him about that first night. He was well practiced in taking it slow, thanks. Lord knew he’d had enough opportunity, with all sorts of girls and women. Who was he to deny them what they wanted, when it was exactly what he wanted himself?
You need to be wise for the both of you. The admonishing words echoed and, moreover, held the resonance of truth. Bill should know, certainly, his idyll with the staid Mary having been the stuff of high drama. It had ultimately turned out well for the two, or as well as could be expected. They loved each other, that was beyond question, though Mary had to share Bill with his other love. It was Mary’s tragedy, the same one that’d been reenacted by women throughout history, every time man laid down the plow to follow the Siren’s song.
The sort of love that was between Bill and Mary wasn’t in the cards for Jack. He enjoyed the easy, superficial banter of a flirtation, or the headier excitement and comforts of an affaire, but when it came down to it his heart and mind were given to one lady only: the Black Pearl. He was hers. And, someday, she would be his.
And the pretty little Widow Granger, for all her seeming innocence and theatrical flights, had an odd streak of practicality, too. A flirtation, aye. An affaire, perhaps. Jack had chosen to play knight-errant, protecting her from harm, but she knew what he was, and that he and his captain would soon be contacting Mordecai Huff regarding suitable compensation for said protection.
Jack frowned. The idea of ransoming Letty held little appeal for him, though the captain seemed set on it.
Later that day, when he and Tobias were going over Bootstrap’s accounts in the Great Cabin, Jack casually broached the subject.
Tobias lifted a quizzical brow. “Growin’ fond of ‘er, are you lad?”
Jack chuckled. “Aye, a bit. She’s surprising, in certain ways.”
His mentor grinned. “Oh, that kind are, don’t I know it? But be careful how you handle ‘er. Make sure she understands the rules before you go playin’ that game. As for the ransom, think Jack: the more Huff has to pay, the more certain he’ll be we’ve guarded her proper, neither used or misused her in any way. Don’t have to be entirely true. Even if you bed her, the girl won’t say anything as long as you treat her well - which I’ve no doubt you will. So where’s the harm?”
Jack saw the logic in this, and yet, against all reason, he still could not like the scheme. But he did not tell his captain. He’d not disappoint John Tobias for the world. And besides, there was every chance that something would occur to him, something that would allow him to avoid disappointing Letty, as well.
*
TBC