The Devil's Luck Ch. 05

Boston, though. That word struck her. Her uncle was there. The captain had letters by his hand. Something was odd here. Was she imagining connections where there were none?

You've probably had too much wine yourself, fool of a girl. What could Edmund possibly have to do with your uncle, or anything concerning him? Stop inventing nonsense.

The rare sound of the captain's laughter broke into her darkening thoughts and the clouds of suspicion parted away, instantly forgotten. Hannah watched him jest with Mr Till and melted in the sight of his smile. She wanted to taste the wine on his tongue, and was soon thinking of far different things than letters and uncles. This dinner was going on for far too long. They could be in his stateroom right now...

* * * *

Four days after Easter Sunday Hannah was obliged to return to the ship's galley, at the captain's very reasonable request that she fetch their evening meal back to his cabin.

She'd needed to steel herself to walk down those stairs again after her last visit. The provocative commentary she'd endured from Brigit and the cook had been far more direct than was tolerable, and she was not eager to repeat the experience, should the two be in an equally mischievous mood today. It was one thing to speak so plainly behind closed doors with Edmund or Benjamin, but to hear such things from people she was not sharing a bed with was still exceptionally flustering.

Sharing a bed, you say. Look at you, Hannah. Look what you've become. Shall we put a name to it?

Her inner voice mocked her, but no, she would still not put a name to what she knew she must be. She would fetch the plates as she'd been asked and that was it.

Bone was there as she stepped down into the galley, brushing crumbs away from the cutting block with a rag so filthy it defied any claim the activity had to providing cleanliness. He glanced up as her shadow darkened the entrance for a moment, and nodded to her in greeting.

"Evening, Mrs Collingwood. Didn't expect to see ye back here again so soon." As he spoke he flailed the rag at King George, who was trying to jump up on the block. The cat stalked away in a huff and settled on the bottom stair step to lick its tail.

"The captain sent me to bring back something for our evening meal," she explained, trying to keep their interaction aimed at the business at hand.

"Well then," he said, turning back to inspect a steaming pot, "you'll need to wait just a few more minutes. Not quite done yet with the pease."

"Where is Brigit?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to see the other woman at that moment or not. Her teasing those few days ago still made Hannah feel...awkward.

"She's gone off to rest, I imagine."

Hannah didn't want to think about what might have made her former maid so tired at this time of day.

Satisfied with the progress in the pot, he bent for a moment and then brought out two plates from a stack beneath the block. Hannah shook her head at him in correction.

"Three please, Mr Bone. I believe Mr Till will be joining us."

"Ah." He added another plate to the stack.

The cook rested the weight of his bulk on his hands atop the block and he eyed her as if there was something he was deciding whether to say. Hannah fussed with the edge of her sleeve, not entirely comfortable under the gaze of the red-bearded man.

"Has the captain spoken to ye much," he finally ventured to ask her, "about any of his time before taking command of The Devil's Luck?"

She shook her head. Blackburn rarely brought up his past, and when the subject came up he was quick to move the conversation elsewhere.

"Or of how he came to choosing out his quartermaster?" the man added a second question, to which she also answered in the negative.

"The captain doesn't seem to talk of such things, Mr Bone."

"No, that wouldn't be like our Captain, now would it? Why don't ye bring over that stool for yerself, Mrs Collingwood," he gestured to a tall wooden stool that sat in a corner behind her. She pulled it in front of the block and sat at his suggestion, curious now. The cook clearly had something more to say, and she watched him struggle, possibly with how to word it. Hannah waited, patiently.

"I don't know what to say and what not to say, ye understand," his words confirmed her suspicions at his hesitation. "It's only that...well, the captain's been side by side with Mr Till since the two of them were boys. Like brothers, they are. Never seen a more loyal pair of friends."

She dipped her head in a quick nod, encouraging him to go on.

"The pair of them cut nearly every purse in Kingston, and that before they were grown men." Hannah squirmed in her seat a bit at the thought that Edmund had taken to crime at such a young age. Bone continued, "They made their coin as war-caperers – privateers, Ma'am - for many a year after that, you see, but always on the same ship, one always watching the other's back."

He held her eyes then, possibly to see whether she was following him or winnowing out some implication from his words. She wasn't, and said as much.

"I'm sorry, but what has any of that to do with me, Mr Bone?"

He was silent for a moment, as he appeared to consider jumping from a ledge.

"Mrs Collingwood," he began again, his normally jolly tone now quite sober, "those two men are nigh inseparable. They may as well be opposite halves of a single man." Bone spread adjacent palms apart like a clamshell to illustrate, looking seriously at her from under ruddy brows for emphasis.

"I know there comes a time when a lady is pressed to choose among...suitors," he coughed out that final word, clearly substituting it at the last moment for another, "but with these two the choice cannot be between one and the other. You'll forgive me, Ma'am, a ship's cook hasn't got the tongue to say such things proper, but...with Mr Till and the captain...you'll either have to turn them both away at once or..."

He let his words trail off into a shrug and a spreading of his hands, unwilling to voice the rest of his thought aloud. His eyes pled with her for understanding. She had no idea what she could possibly say. The very notion of what he'd left unsaid, of what she'd left resolutely unthought...

It was beyond contemplation.

Bone busied himself with filling a larger dish for her to take. The ever-present salt pork and tack were there, and today he wedged in a covered bowl of the now ready pease as well. He was avoiding her eyes now, possibly regretting what he'd said.

Not sure what to say now that the air was twisted over on itself with the cook's acknowledgement of uncomfortable realities, Hannah took up the dish of food and stack of plates he'd pushed at her and made a clumsy goodbye.

"Thank you...for the food, Mr Bone. And....and...well, good evening then."

There was no graceful way for her to leave at this point, and so she simply turned and mounted the steps, avoiding the now sleeping cat, and walked at a steady pace back along the deck, carrying plates and food, toward what would surely be the oddest dinner yet.

* * * *

"While we're in Nassau, Mrs Collingwood, perhaps we'll see if something can be found for you to wear that's more to your liking, if you wish," the captain made his offer over what was left of the wine in his cup, his eyes watching the contents swirl around, boots up on the table.

"That would be very nice, Captain, thank you."

Hannah and the quartermaster sat opposite Blackburn, and the three took their ease after they'd finished the meal she'd brought up from the galley. Till leaned back but had scooted his chair well forward and his arms rested on the table, folded over one another.

"But when you come ashore with us," the captain continued, "You'd best stay as close to Mr Till or myself as possible, at every moment. Nassau is no place at all for a lady such as yourself to wander alone."

His tone sounded ominous and she took him seriously.

"Of course."

She had no illusions that the measure of safety she'd been afforded aboard The Devil's Luck would extend to the denizens of a notorious pirate haven like Nassau. No honour among thieves, and all that. No, this was not Bristol, and she knew no one on the island who would see and gossip against her reputation. No one who knew her would see if she pinned herself firmly against the side of Edmund Blackburn for a day or two. Or Benjamin Till, whomever was free.

Or both.

The cook's words were still a nagging echo in her head, and work as she did, she could not push them down.

...you'll either have to turn them both away at once or...

The idea was sheer nonsense. A thought that could not be. A balance had been achieved, she thought, as she moved to gather up the plates into one place and cover the remainder of the meat. A fragile equilibrium wherein her delicately constructed existence was held together by implicit silence and the studious ignorance of reality. If the wrong thought was allowed purchase, the entire tenuous structure would come tumbling down around her, and there would be no way to predict the consequences.

As she came around to Edmund's side of the table, collecting utensils into a metallic bundle, the captain stood, grating his chair back over the floor with the motion.

The wooden sound was a demarcation. Denial was on the far side of it. On the near side was Blackburn, mere inches in front of her, dark eyes drawing her in like a whirlpool.

Hannah had constructed a Tower of Babel that was now supported by melting candlesticks. The fall was coming, and she knew it.

His fingers traced down her arm, which hung at her side now, mesmerised as she was by the unwinding of her own fate, and he took the handful of forks and knives from her to place them back on the table. She was frozen stiff, arrested at once by both a raging desire to keep control over her next actions and a terrified fear of a surrender she'd been avoiding, even in her dreams.

Edmund tilted his head, leaning down to kiss her and she hurtled toward the point of no return. She was pliant in his arms, but her heart hammered in her chest. It was the most excruciatingly slow kiss, their lips pressing together and tongues flowing against each other like the gentlest waves over a midnight shore. His hands were at her waist with the lightest touch possible. She knew Till was watching, and had in no way been dismissed. Hannah was going to break soon. If the door was opened just the tiniest crack...

A warm, massive presence fell in behind her.

Benjamin.

You will never get this door shut again, Hannah Collingwood.

She was shivering now, and her body did not seem to know how to stop, although she silently commanded it to do so. Edmund drew back from their kiss and searched her gaze with frightful transparency for an endless moment. If no one said anything...could they still turn back?

The captain laid his hands more firmly at her waist. "The Widow Collingwood is delicious, my friend," he pronounced in sleek tones, still holding her eyes with his, "You should really have a taste." He turned her by the hips then to face the quartermaster.

No. There would be no turning back.

Hannah looked up at the tattooed man who'd been so kind to her these past weeks. The captain's best friend. One of two lovers. With a final exhalation she put her trust in fate.

Her lips were on his and the walls crumbled. His hands pulled her against him and brick after brick came loose, her careful fortress of propriety being further razed to the ground with every stroke of lips and tongue.

Edmund moved in again at her back and his hands wrapped around to smooth their way up her bodice and over her breasts. At the very same time, her mouth was being captured by Benjamin's and her foundation was finally laid bare.

A forbidden seed had been planted that first day aboard the ship, when she'd found herself so suddenly pinned between the two men. It had spent these many weeks pushing unseen roots down into the fertile soil of her desires, but today the first shoots were thrust up into daylight.

She moaned into Till's mouth and nearly came undone on the spot, but Edmund clasped her to him more firmly and broke her away from the fateful kiss.

"Bolt the doors, Benjamin," the words came from the captain low and hoarse against her ear, causing her belly to twist into a delectable knot of nervous anticipation.

Till moved off to see to the doors and Edmund didn't wait for his return before moving his lips to Hannah's throat. She could feel the heat of his lust pressing into her from behind and his hands were sliding into the tops of her sleeves at her neckline, working to expose more of her shoulders. She didn't know how much longer she'd be able to breathe in a useful manner.

Her eyes snapped open when she felt Benjamin return to his place in front of her. He seized her gaze with a single fevered look before bending his head to her breasts as he'd done so many times before. Only this time Edmund was tilting her chin back and claiming her mouth, warm masculine fingers cupping her throat and guiding her jaw to work with his. She tasted the wine on the captain's lips with her head bent back, while Till brought out first one of her nipples and then the other to be introduced to his earnest suckling. Heat roiled between her thighs as he took the tender flesh into his warm, wet mouth. Hands kneaded at her bottom; she was not sure whose.

At the very same time that Hannah did not know how she could possibly bear any more, she also knew there was still so much more to be borne. Her knees almost gave out from under her.

The many buttons that marched down her back were being deftly worked apart. Her whole body was jostled along with the accompanying tugs at the fabric, causing her nipples to be jerked away from the attentions of the man in front of her. His teeth caught her as she was pulled this way and that under his greedy mouth and she gasped at the sensation.

Stays were unlaced and her arms were drawn from sleeves. Material was pushed down over her ribs and her hips in a flurry of eager movements. She made a small noise of frustration at the process. There were so many, many layers to a woman's dress.

When Till stepped back to openly admire her form she realised she was finally truly bare. In a meaningless gesture, her hands instinctively went to cover her sex. Her nervous laughter at the move broke the silence. Would she be ashamed and hide now, after all that had led her here?

She felt Edmund pull off his shirt behind her and she turned about to face him. It had become one of her newfound joys to press her bare bosom against the warmth of a male chest, and she took the opportunity to do so now. His arms circled around her back and his arousal was made plain against her thigh.

At that moment Hannah realised that out of every scandalous encounter during this voyage, she had yet to see the captain completely undressed. The man was always in such a rush to have her that he seldom did more than push the front of his breeches out of the way, and beyond that might have removed his shirt only once or twice.

"Edmund," she teased, her tongue bold now and a mischievous smile on her lips, "Are you hiding something from me?" Her fingers slid below the waist of his breeches, the palms of her hands gliding directly over his firmly muscled backside. He chuckled at her little joke, but she was serious in her intent. She kept her hands moving toward the floor and bent at the knees to sink down with them, peeling clothing away from male thighs as she went.

Eye level now with an alert, bobbing erection, Hannah first dragged her tongue along its silky length and then took the tip into her mouth, working her lips and tongue over the plump head. She distracted him pleasantly this way while she tugged off his boots and stockings with her hands.

It was her turn to stand now and take in the sight of a nude body, neatly stripped. The captain was not at all unfavourable to look upon, she decided as she watched him step at last out of his lowered breeches

She turned to see if she'd need to do the same for Benjamin, but the quartermaster hadn't waited to do his own disrobing. He stood there as bare as the day he was born, one hand moving idly over his swollen shaft, watching her as she moved.

Hannah looked from one man to the other. They stood on opposite sides of her, Edmund her darkness and Benjamin her light. The one wore a halo and the other, horns. She wanted it all, she wanted them both. The warm embrace of her tattooed angel and the forceful violation of her dark-eyed devil.

This ship was like a separate floating reality that existed outside of the one she'd come from and whatever one she was sailing toward, a world beyond the fetters of mundane events. For a time, and in this place, Hannah would surrender. She would not judge herself. All the dark, heady joys she'd come to want could be permitted. Perhaps later she would allow herself to pile up regrets like coins to be counted. Today, though...today she would soar and fall into the twin infinities of blinding paradise and blissful perdition.

The bed was so very close behind her. A step, and then another, and she was there. Benjamin was there, climbing up. Edmund was there, closing in.

Hesitation was gone. Hannah knelt between male knees, Benjamin's, and he leaned his shoulders back against the adjacent wall that framed the berth. His body ran lengthwise down the bed, firm and inviting under her roving hands. She spared him a kiss or two more, but what she wanted to taste was much lower.

Till's cock nodded eagerly in response to her thoughts and she slid down his body to make them manifest. The velvety heat of him in her mouth was intoxicating. The way his thickness pressed her tongue down reminded her of how her body had been repeatedly pinned under the weight of her two lovers these past weeks. Her lips stretched around his girth as she made her way down to rest them against the warm nest of hair at his base, his male scent filling her up, awakening the pulse between her thighs.

She knew what he liked now and brought up her fingers to gently knead and tug at the heavy, silken bag below his shaft. His immediate groan of pleasure was the greatest reward and it brought an involuntary reply in kind from her which thrummed from her working throat directly into his rigid flesh.

As she took her time at Benjamin's pleasure, her fingers joining her mouth to tease out those sounds she loved to hear, she felt a pair of hands smoothing over her backside. Her cheeks had been unabashedly up in the air while she'd distracted herself with sucking, and now Edmund moved in behind her.

Nimble fingers slid down through the cleft of her bottom to burrow into the wanton display of the moist pink blossom between her legs. He spread her apart and toyed with her flesh, fingertips pinching and flirting and rolling. The gasp that came from her when he finally pushed a pair of fingers inside made her clench in arousal at the way it sounded, muffled as it was by the man in her mouth.

Edmund took her with his hands then, but he was pressed close behind, his thighs grazing hers and his knees spreading her further. Her pussy fairly dripped around his fingers, and her saliva was beginning to pool at the base of Benjamin's shaft. It was becoming a very...liquid affair.

The slow burn had just begun to melt into a more insistent throb as the captain wrought a fluttering song over her most sensitive flesh. She was straining now, pushing back into his touch, her body pleading for release, but Edmund Blackburn had other ideas.

His hand left her, sensation momentarily gone with a pang of loss, but it was replaced by the nudging head of his cock.