“I hope you aren’t sharing all of your knowledge.” My eyes shift to him, and he purses his lips as he grazes the edge of my hand again. “I would rather that be kept for my private instruction.”
The rogue knows exactly what he’s doing to me, teasing me on the deck in front of everyone. Turning to stare at him, I casually lean my hip against the railing and close the small space between us. My fingers trail slowly across the tattoos of his bare chest before dragging down to the waistband of his trousers. He clenches his jaw slightly and inhales sharply. Glancing up through my lashes, I bite my lip and watch him swallow as my touch lingers on the fabric.
“Well, Captain, I am happy to begin your lesson at your leisure.” My smile is languid as I pull my fingers across his stomach, dropping down to my side as I move to walk away. Only a heartbeat later, he catches my wrist in his warm grasp and stops me. I quirk my lips in a secret smirk as I still face away from him, more than satisfied with his reaction.
“Oh, I think now will work just fine. I am an eager student,” he whispers in my ear before turning me to march in front of him to his cabin, lightly gripping my shoulders as we go.
* * *
Lyra continues to join me in the surgery each day, assisting when one of the crewmembers needs my aid, and listening to my lessons when we are alone. The monotony of hours at sea is broken up by joining the Captain in his bed. One afternoon, as I lay in the crook of his arm, shouts reach us from on deck. The boom of cannon fire sounds in the distance and Lennox’s body tenses beneath me. Dread sinks into my gut at the thought of another battle. He’s on his feet, pulling his pants up before I can allow that thought to materialize further.
“Get dressed. I’ll be right back,” he says, striding from the cabin as he pulls his shirt over his head.
I hurry to fasten my underskirts and pull on my dress and boots. Anxiety courses through me at the thought of waiting for him to return, so as soon as I am clothed, I step out onto the deck. Lennox surveys the other ship, looking through a spyglass, and my eyes naturally follow the direction it points. As I feared, another vessel floats on the horizon, and my fists clench with panic. Heart racing, I spin to go warn Lyra when I catch sight of the Captain’s broad grin, and my worries disintegrate.
“Hail them, Pike,” he tells the man standing in for Erik as Quartermaster. “It’s Jackson.”
The older man nods, his gold earrings flashing in the bright sun, and yells instructions to the crew who spring into action at his directions. Lennox hands the spyglass off to Pike before striding to where I stand.
“Friend of yours?” I ask when he reaches me, raising my brows in question.
“Of a sort. It looks like he may be heading to the same destination we are, and it never hurts to travel together. Captain Jackson is an interesting character, but we have been on the same side numerous times.” He runs a soothing touch along my arm, reassuring me. “You don’t need to worry.”
When did my mind become so easily read? In the past six weeks, I have allowed my mask, my carefully forged armor, to fall, revealing my emotions and thoughts to those around me. I’m not sure if I’m happy to be free of the self-imposed restraint, or if I am worried about how I will protect myself when this trip ends.
Quickly, the new vessel, a smaller ship than the Bartered Soul, comes close enough for me to see its crew. The man who leads them, Captain Jackson, is a brilliant figure near the helmsman as he hails Lennox. Where Lennox is muted in fine fabrics, this man wears multiple bold colors and patterns, varying between calicos and silks, florals and linens – a tropical bird compared to the falcon at my side. His long, dark hair is neatly clubbed at his neck, but I can’t make out his features well enough to tell much more about him.
Jackson’s crew appears rowdy like the hardened sailors I saw come through Celeste’s door, toiling in the sea spray and chanting a song together. Through whatever methods pirates use, Lennox confirms that the new ship — the Selkie’s Tears — is indeed traveling in the same direction as we are, and our group becomes like a pod of dolphins continuing West.
“Do pirates often travel together?” I ask that evening over a plain dinner of salted meat, beans, and hardtack in his cabin. “I didn’t think you would be friends.”
“I wouldn’t say friends so much as useful allies. We don’t usually sail together unless we have a specific cause, but in this case, I don’t think we will have any other raids along the way. We should arrive in a day or so with good wind. This close to Delosia, it’s easier to hail one another in open waters and move together rather than surprise each other closer to shore. Plus, Erik, Jackson, and I have a shared history; I don’t fear treachery from him.”
Another day or so.
The statement is all I truly hear him say. I knew we would arrive soon, but it feels as though my world is collapsing. For the first time in a long time, I have felt valued and respected here on this ship. What will Delosia hold for me in the next few days? What will I do without him at my side?
I end up pushing my food around my plate for the remainder of our meal, lost in contemplation. I’ve become accustomed to having him close, what it will be like to say goodbye? With a breath, I shove the emotions deep down to the place I have stored them many times before, and nibble at my small ration.
At least the food will be better soon.
After dinner, once other physical hungers are sated, I lie awake in the dim candlelight. Lennox sleeps peacefully, his features soft in slumber without worry or strain. I long to stroke his cheek, to memorize his face like this, but don’t wish to wake him. Instead, I slip from the bed and onto the deck. The night air is cool, but no longer holds the crispness it had when we departed Selennia. Standing at the bow of the ship, I gaze out into the pitch blackness of the sea. The figurehead, so like me, is my only company as I allow the tears I’ve been holding to quietly fall.
The Captain hasn’t mentioned his feelings for me since the night he confessed his true identity under the duress of fever and possible death. We have studiously avoided it, in fact. It is plain to see that he enjoys my company and my body, but I can’t be sure of his other emotions.
Despite what my heart tells me, I can’t bring myself to tell him that I broke the most important rule girls in the Houses know — don’t give your heart to your customer. I can’t risk that he will scorn me, or tell me he will pay to keep me as his courtesan, holed away in a room while he is off at sea, forever waiting for him to return.
No matter how much my heart aches, this is my chance to finally start over. This is why I accepted his offer in the first place, isn’t it? I wrap my arms around myself, trying to ease the ache in my chest, and turn away from the Captain’s cabin, walking slowly toward the stern, heading down to my shared room with Lyra.
* * *
“Land ho!”
The words ring through the ship to where Lyra and I work in the surgery, and my head whips up. I knew we would arrive soon, but the call is like a shard of ice to my heart. Granting a small smile to Lyra, who has lit up at the announcement, we climb to the deck to stand at the railing and view our destination.
The water we float in is crystalline, so clear I can easily see the brightly colored fish that swim below its surface. The land we approach is lush with palm trees and a beach that glows white against the turquoise sea. Rough camps are set up in clusters on the sand, and buildings that make up what appears to be a town rest far behind, nestled in the trees.
My skin prickles and I know when I turn I will see green eyes following me. Lennox stands outside his cabin, smiling when our eyes meet, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. I return the look, my lips barely turning up, before turning to watch our destination grow larger as we approach. The Archangel is still at our side, while the Selkie’s Tears moves in behind us, all preparing to drop anchor and go ashore.