Hook & Jill (The Hook & Jill Saga) (33 page)

The smile Tom gave Lightly stretched broad like his shoulders. “I see you’ve got your wish. You’re a brave.”

Lightly returned his smile, gesturing toward the boots and swords. “You’ve both got your wishes, too. And look at you. You’re sturdier than ever, Tootles, and Nibs is nearly as tall as me!”

With a curious stare at the Indians, Nibs studied the changes. “You’re different today, too. Why the black paint?”

Lightly’s voice quieted. “It’s a sign of mourning. I’ll explain.” He addressed Gentleman Starkey respectfully. “We ask to speak with the captain. And Wendy, if she’s here.”

Starkey’s eyes never left the Indians. “Fetch Mr. Smee, Nibs, and tell him it’s the same messengers as yesterday, requesting to see the captain. And his lady.”

“Aye, aye. Right away!” Nibs hustled over the deck in his new long stride and up the steps of the companionway, two at a time.

Controlling his reaction, Lightly merely tugged his vest straighter. “So Wendy’s his lady, now?”

Tom Tootles’ barrel chest expanded, and he smiled. “She’s changed, like the rest of us, but you’ll know her. She’s truly Red-Handed Jill now.” Rowan and Lightly followed the glance he shot to the standard waving at the top of the mast.

Rowan kept his voice low. “So the captain has won her. Now he must settle with the boy.” He and Lightly exchanged looks from under their marks of mourning, but Lightly shook his head.

“No. I don’t know Jill yet, but I knew Wendy. It is she who must settle with him. It seems she’s finally broken his law.”

* * *

“Good morning, Madam.”

The woman who used to be Wendy Darling opened her eyes, and a shock surged through her. The man who was Captain Hook sat smiling smugly on the edge of the bed, dressed in dusty blue velvet. Like his rings, his hook gleamed in the morning light. He tilted his head. “I regret that I must leave you. A little matter of a battle to be won.”

Jill regained her composure and strove to sit up, gripping her stomach as a pain jabbed her insides. Hook offered his arm, and when she was sitting upright, he drove off discomfort by pressing an ardent kiss upon her fingers. “Our Mr. Smee will attend you, my love.”

Mr. Smee’s rugged red countenance beamed upon her as he bobbed his head. “Morning, Madam.”

She blinked, still trying to determine if she slept or waked. “A battle?”

“How flattering. Really, you shall cause me to blush in front of my boatswain.” He turned a wry look on Smee.

“Oh, aye, Sir. One night with yourself and the lady’s forgotten the lad who came before!”

Hook turned back to Jill, his smile fading, and regarded her keenly. “Yes, battle, with your former beau. He is sure to want to avenge your honor.” His fingers still possessed hers.

“My honor? No. Only his own. And I
had
forgotten. But you’re right, he won’t let me go without a fight.”

“I am yours to command, Madam. Would you have me kill him?”

“But would you want to, now that you’ve recalled who he is?” She darted a glance in Smee’s direction.

“He is the same boy he has always been since entering the Neverland. A childish menace who would slay us both if given the opportunity. Yes.”

“But you wanted to protect him, once upon a time.”

“And once upon a time, I wanted to destroy you. Another ironic twist of Fate. It makes life so interesting, does it not?”

Her eyes caught the spark within his own. “Yes! Far more interesting even than a good story.”

A hesitant knock interrupted. Hook glanced at Smee, who excused himself to answer it and exited.

Jill laid her hand on her lover’s velvet sleeve. “But Hook, what of the fact that Pan is your brother?”

“Half brother. Even blood ties mean nothing when honored by only one party. And like my other family members, he has proven himself untrustworthy. In spite of his dubious paternity, a true son of the house.”

“But if he knew—”

“If he knew, he would have more reason to resent me. I am everything he hates within himself.”

“Yet he will never acknowledge it.” She bowed her head. “He will never admit how similar you are.”

Hook raised an eyebrow and dropped her hand. His reply was barbed. “I shall endeavor to be complimented.” Another knock intervened. “You may enter, Mr. Smee!”

“Sir, Madam. Two Indians to see you, the same pair as yesterday.”

Hook stiffened. “I will leave you to Mr. Smee’s tender care once again.”

Smee cleared his throat. “Cap’n, they’ve asked for both you and the lady.”

“See to her. They can wait.” Hook held out his hand again and she nestled hers within it. “It is your eldest son, and his… companion.”

Her eyes lit up as she smiled. “Slightly! He
is
with the Indians, then, and he’s all right.”

“You may judge for yourself when you see him. When you are ready…” He leaned over her to brush her cheek with his lips. Deciding that wasn’t enough, he kissed her fully, and then his blue eyes warmed her as he lingered over her hand, and her name. “Madam Red-Hand… Jill.”

She had stopped breathing again. He relinquished her hand and stood, swept his hat off the desk, and with a nod to Smee, strode from the room.

Jill held her hand to her cheek as she watched him go, and then she raised it and stared at it, drawing in her breath. She hadn’t dreamt it after all. The inside of her right hand, from palm to fingertips, was stained a deep blood-red. She threw aside the comforter and wondered at the ravaged bedding.

Mr. Smee’s kindly voice broke into her thoughts as he took her hand in his own, surveying it and the linens through his spectacles. “Begging your pardon, Ma’am, but it looks as if the battle’s already been! There’s naught to be done about your marking, but I’ve brought a basin for the rest of you. And would you be wanting a nice cup of tea?”

She grimaced with another twinge of pain in her middle as she straightened, then she half-smiled at him. “No, Mr. Smee. Better make it rum.”

“A woman after my own heart!” As his hearty grip retained her hand, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. He squeezed her fingers and bent to look into her eyes. “If it’s not being too forward— was it a rough night you had, Ma’am?”

She was mistress of her emotions now. “Oh, no. Everything went smoothly. All according to plan.”

He laughed his rollicking laugh and freed her hand, turning to lay out the gown and other necessaries. “You’re sounding like himself now! You’ve made a fine choice of the dress, it matches your eyes. And I’ll get you whatever else you’re needing. You’ve only to ask.”

“The captain promised me a story this morning. But business must come first.”

“If he promised, he’ll be true to his word. One way or another.”

“Aye, Mr. Smee, I’ve learned that. But you know him better than anyone.”

“No, Ma’am. I know the captain’s ways. It’s you that knows his heart.”

Jill spoke softly, more to herself than to Smee. “He’s known mine all along. I just didn’t believe it.”

“Ah, and who’s to blame you? There’s no guarantees in this life. Best we join the captain on deck now and see to the Indians. And then we’ll have to be ready for a fight!”

“I had hoped that last night was his happy ending.”

Mr. Smee’s jocularity withered with his grin. “Now, Ma’am. I’ll not be betraying my captain, but I’ll tell you this much, for ’tis no disloyalty.” He peered over his spectacles. “Don’t ever be telling him the end of the story.”

“But he’s a legend. It must go on forever!”

Smee smiled sideways at her. “I’d not be telling him that, either.”

“Aye, Mr. Smee. I’m learning why ship’s company respects you.” She gazed out at the sun on the sea, and her voice was firm. “So a battle is to be fought. My first. And I’m ready.” She turned back to Smee, her eyes steely. “There is one thing I’ll be needing, Mr. Smee, if you’d be so kind. To continue the story of Jill. I’m sure you can find it for me.”

“Anything, Madam. The ship is yours.”

“Aye…”

Mr. Smee liked the smile on Red-Handed Jill’s face. So cold it warmed him.

* * *

It lay on the beach of the bay all night, cooling its blood and gloating on its surfeited stomach. The tide pulled away from the shore, leaving a saturated strip of sand and a green log to bask in the early light. And as the sun rose, the beast’s faith and patience was rewarded. The fresh morning breeze came to it, the salt-scented air, carrying with it another smell. The enticing aroma, not only of flesh this time, but also of blood. Out across the water, toward the sun.

The crocodile blinked and hauled its bulk forward. The sand scraped its belly until it floated up to buoy in the bay waters. Its powerful tail shoved the water from side to side and its legs paddled. Unwittingly, the green sea concealed the monster as the beast swam silently, pleasantly, toward bliss.

* * *

Tom Tootles waved a dismissive hand. “We’ve all broken that law. Pan is no threat. Captain Hook sent Nibs and me to fetch her from him, but we had an easy time of it. She’d already put him in his place!”

Under the black paint, Lightly’s eyes remained somber. “All the more reason for him to come after her. And another grand adventure, to win her back.”

“Aye, he never learns.”

Rowan agreed, “The boy holds the courage of his convictions, but little wisdom.”

Nibs bounded back to the deck and joined them. “We’re to wait here, Mr. Starkey.”

Gentleman Starkey retrieved a handkerchief and mopped the back of his neck. “I hope for everyone’s sake you two haven’t brought more bad news to the captain.” The Indians’ eyes grew wary as they looked past Mr. Starkey. Nibs the Knife corrected his posture. Tom Tootles tucked in his shirt. Stowing his kerchief, Starkey blew a breath. “We were all much too near to death’s dark door when you left us yesterday!” Then he froze.

The silken voice flowed over his shoulder. “Quite right, Mr. Starkey. But I shall be content if only one passes through that door today.” Hook rolled his eyes upward to behold the new banner, and his claw blazed in the morning sun. “No. Make that two.”

* * *

In Peter’s cavern under the ground, Jewel clambered out of hiding. With shaking fingers, she smoothed her wings. They were nearly as crumpled as the day Mr. Noodler captured her in the Fairy Glade. But she had flown again that day, and she would fly today. She beat them, testing, and rose an inch or two. Edgy as a fledgling, she flitted toward the entrance, hesitating only a moment in order to peer up.

Peter was nowhere in sight. She plunged up the chute and surfaced among the trees, rising high to see which direction Peter had flown. She spotted him, as she had oftentimes, not by sight but by the waving of the telltale foliage in his wake. He was headed away from the hideout, in the opposite direction from Neverbay. Ducking down into the forest, she followed, creating in her agitation her own stirring of leaves.

* * *

Jill waited confidently, now prepared to cast off from the cabin and set sail into her new life. With a nod to Mr. Smee she indicated her readiness, but he stood gripping the door handle and didn’t open it for her. Stately, she lifted her eyebrow. “Mr. Smee?”

“Will you wait, Madam? Captain’s orders.” He stepped away to open the wardrobe door instead. “And you’ll be wanting to see yourself, I think, before you go out.” The mirror hung on the inside of the door. Jill looked, and watched herself glide toward it. She gazed then with pleasure at the woman there, the woman she had wanted to be. Her dreams were still coming true. And it continued to be true of her as this new lady— she didn’t need enchantment to call her smile. She herself was enchanting, and the royal smile flew irresistibly to her lips.

Although she selected her raiment for quite another reason, Mr. Smee was correct. The gown she chose last night did match her eyes, perfectly. The neck was cut square, the bodice tight; the shimmering skirt was loose enough but not too flowing to interfere with the movement her pirate life would demand. Her arms were bare, and begging for bracelets. Jill’s smile deepened in anticipation.

The sash Mr. Smee had fashioned for her served her well, hugging both the polished pistol and the silver dagger to her hips. She ran her fingers over the weapons and inspected her trim reflection. She chose to remain barefoot for now, but her hair was brushed to a sheen, and as she watched, her lips parting, Mr. Smee’s big hands suspended in front of her a dazzling string of jewels. He hung it round her neck, an opal and diamond necklace, not quite hiding her scar, but sparkling with all the colors of the Neverland. With her fingertips she stroked the cold, smooth opal surfaces. Her tongue touched her teeth as she beheld the gems’ reflection, and aroused, her pulse beat quicker. Her first heady taste of pirate treasure. Almost imperceptibly, her lip twitched.

Smee caught the lust in her eyes, and he smiled. “A gift,” he confided as he fastened it, “from the captain’s own coffer, chosen himself as his lady slept.”

Breathless, she slowly shook her head. “He knows my heart.” Jill’s eyes glittered like the diamonds, until she remembered the battle ahead. Then her eyes changed to resemble the stones in a more solid way. Her voice, as well. “Time to go, Mr. Smee. We’ve work to do.”

* * *

Peter reached into the twisting tree to pluck two of the most succulent apples, round and green, and pocketed them in his pouch. His countenance glowed with expectation as he snatched another apple, a fat red one. He jumped down to the grass and bit into his fruit to sample its sweetness. Then he flung it to the fairy garden and bent his knees to push off and away. From the cover of surrounding trees, Jewel’s troubled eyes watched the butterflies scatter from the thud of the apple, then she flitted just like them after the boy, an uncomfortable swelling doing its best to enlarge her heart.

* * *

On deck Mr. Starkey, with a sense of relief, abandoned his pupils to his captain and the visitors. The legends of the claw were as nothing to its reality, and Starkey liked to keep well away from it and its bearer, the more so as Hook appeared none too pleased to greet the Indians again. The captain’s tone revealed his displeasure.