Under Her Brass Corset (18 page)

At the ship, he tried helping her up the ladder. They had left the satchel with their outer clothes in the longboat. The Compass he carried tied in his shirt around his waist. As for undergarments, Abigail’s clung wetly to her like a second layer of skin. The ivory pink flesh of her bottom plastered with transparent fabric drew his hand.

“Stop that.” She kicked at him, knocking him away.

“I’m just offering assistance.” He put his hand on her back.

At the top, she swung a leg over the side. He stared at her other limb as she sat straddling the rail. He moved higher, closer to touching her. Before his fingers connected to her foot, she lifted her leg away.

He scrambled up and over to join her on the deck. While removing his knotted-up shirt with the compass inside, he moved closer.

“You’ve been a bit testy since we came here. Why?” he asked.

Her hesitation suggested she wasn’t going to answer him, then she asked, “Just how well do you know Tye?”

“Is this jealousy?” He gripped her chin with his forefinger and thumb.

“No, I was…I didn’t know if I should feel sorry for her.”

“Whatever for?”

“You hardly said a word to her the whole time we were there.”

“And you should pity her, for what? Not having the pleasure of my witty charm?”

“Well, I thought if you knew her well it meant she was…had been a…”

“No.” He suddenly realized where the conversation was going.

“No?”

“I have never been intimate with Tye. She has been Juan’s companion for decades.”

“He’s a bit old for her.”

Jasper laughed and immediately saw his error in mocking her. “I’m old for you too, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting you here and now.” He held the Compass in one hand and placed his hand on her hip.

“You can have me again. But only after you take me to the treasure.” She turned from him and stumbled on the first step.

“You need sea legs,” he joked, patting the outside of her thigh.

She groaned as if in pain and put a hand to her leg. He watched her limp several feet from him.

“Abigail, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” She snatched up her brass corset from where it sat left on a crate. Then she headed to the steps going below.

She seemed to move gingerly into the passageway. The seriousness in her tone kept him from advancing. Something appeared wrong physically and something seemed different about her personality. Ever since they had gotten to Juan’s hut, she didn’t talk much, almost as if she were angry with him. He tried thinking over what was said, what he might have done to upset her. He considered that maybe Juan had said something to upset her, but that didn’t explain her attitude before they reached the man. He wondered if it were Adam, yet Abigail had invited him along on their trip. So whatever her problem was, it centered on him, no one else.

Women.
He heaved a long breath and shook his head not knowing what craziness went on in their minds. Then a thought occurred to him as to one reason a woman grew ill-tempered so suddenly—her menstrual cycle.

Jasper went below and knocked lightly on his cabin door. He opened it cautiously and peered inside. Not seeing her, he went back up to the storage room.

“Abigail,” he called, tapping lightly on the wood door.

“I’m getting dressed,” she answered.

“I just wanted to tell you…If you should need…” He usually didn’t have trouble saying what he needed to, but the delicacy of a woman’s time of the month wasn’t a normal topic for him. “You can use anything at all you want for rags.”

He left it at that and hurried back up top.

“Permission to come aboard?” Adam yelled.

Jasper looked over the side and saw the longboat in place for raising. He turned the steam handle and watched the boom swing out and the hoists lower. Normally he’d manually lock the hook into place, but since Adam was in the boat, he let the other man position the clevises.

“All set, Captain.” Adam hollered the go-ahead.

Jasper flipped the lever and let the mechanical winch bring his longboat and his unwelcome passenger on board.

“Thanks for letting me come along. Who knows how long I’d have to wait on Quito’s island for a ship to come along.”

“Just stay out of my way. He turned off the steam and latched the boat securely in the storage position. “The less I see of you the better.”

“Fine by me. I can find something to occupy my time in a quiet corner of the ship.”

Jasper turned around. “As long as it doesn’t involve Abigail. You stay away from her.”

“Something tells me Miss Thatch does as she pleases. And since I’m on board because of her, I imagine you’re not in charge of much, except catering to her wishes.”

“Don’t mistake any of my actions to accommodate Abby as a weakness. She’s Blackbeard’s granddaughter and I’ve vowed to protect her. That includes anything that she might inadvertently do that could upset her or bring harm to her. Past experience already has me doubtful in regards to any involvement she has with you.”

“Isabel didn’t want to be immortal, Jasp. And the baby, have you even thought about what would happen with the baby? Your child would never have aged.”

“You don’t know that. If she had lived maybe the baby would have been mortal.” In his dreams it had been so, but logic told him differently. After a few years of watching Abigail grow up, he had let go of most of his sorrow for a child he’d never know. He resigned himself to the fact that Isabel would never have been happy as an immortal. All his anger was a result of his loneliness, and since he needed to place blame, he had used Adam as an outlet first for grief and then for failure.

Adam’s attention went past him. Jasper glanced over at Abigail returning to the main deck. She wore something new under the brass corset. A light green linen dress with a low-cut bodice showed off the top swells of her breasts. At the center, the cameo he had seen before drew his gaze to her cleavage. She had her hair swept up in a bundle at the back of her head so the stiff collar of the dress appeared as if it cradled her head. Small, wet curls dripped from her temples, softening the tense expression in her face. He didn’t intend to ask if she suffered cramps.

“She’s marked a lot of territory on your heart, Jasp. Anyone can tell that by the way you look at her.”

Adam was one hundred percent right. In all his years after he’d given the water of Avalon to Blackbeard, he had lived a peaceful life. He’d invented devices to make his life simpler, less dependent on others. While he sought the solace of a woman’s favors, he never had a complete need of them. Abigail was different. She made him want something he had never had, something he didn’t know if he deserved, something he couldn’t fathom obtaining. How did he invite her completely into his life knowing he’d suffer forever after she died?

Like an angel on a cloud, Abigail floated toward them. Jasper watched for signs of any interest she might have in Adam. He saw nothing as her gaze remained locked with his.

“Are the repairs finished?” she asked.

“Almost. The men left just after Adam arrived. I was giving the sap longer to dry before putting to sea.”

“Mr. Sutterby, it’s nice to have you aboard.” She glanced over at him and then looked back to Jasper.

He searched her face for more discomfort, but saw nothing detectable.

“Miss Thatch, I owe you a debt of gratitude for your gracious help in convincing the captain to let me come aboard.”

“It’s the least I can do in repayment of your services.”

“What services?” Jasper asked, leery of the thinly veiled double meanings.

“Why, showing me the island, of course,” Abigail answered. “He was a complete gentleman, as if he were born into high society.”

“Oh, he got his foot in—the back door.” Jasper chuckled.

“What is he talking about?” Abigail asked, as he knew she would.

“Go on. Tell her about your past. You were so free with mine, I think Abigail might like to hear how your mother came together with a lord and had you.”

Abigail turned to Adam. “Is it true?”

“Yes. I’m the bastard son of a Lancaster, and I don’t give it much thought anymore. Jasp knows I put that all behind me a couple of centuries ago.”

“Well then, I was right, you do have the comportment of an aristocrat.” A smile played at her lips. Her coyness radiated from the twinkle in her eyes to the graceful moves she made. She positioned herself in a way that prevented him from seeing her and Adam at the same time, so he felt as if they secretly signaled each other when he turned from one to the other.

To avoid the flirtatious game the two played, which he felt was done just to irk him, he lifted the lever to hoist the anchor and then went to the mainsail to prepare to set sail.

“We should be air bound in no time at all,” he said, untying the folded canvas from the boom.

“Will it take long to get to where the treasure is located?” Abigail asked.

“A couple of hours.”

She came toward him, brushing her leg against a crate. Her face wrinkled with pain. He fought asking if she felt all right, and returned to his initial assumption.

Jasper anticipated getting his head bitten off by her wrath when concern for her health got the better of him. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes,” she snapped.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Adam asked. “It’s been awhile, but if you refresh my memory and tell me what needs doing, I can—”

“I can do it myself.” Abigail jumped right in with grabbing the handle of the large gear. “You get the steam up, Captain Blackthorn.”

Pride flowed through Jasper. Abigail wanted to assist and she had proven herself capable. He walked across the deck, and looked back at her squatting by the engine, watching the pressure gauge. When he came back, he was going to make it a point to get a better answer to his inquiry of her condition. He went below to the boiler room and stoked the furnace with plenty of wood he had stocked up on from Juan’s island.

“Is there anything I can do?” Adam had followed him.

“Yes. Stay below until we drop anchor again,” he said and returned to the main deck to see that Abigail had cranked the large sail up and was working on the smaller one.

“Here, I’ll finish.” He moved alongside her and grabbed for the handle.

The
Illusion
sailed smoothly off the water.

He locked down the handle and hurried up to the quarterdeck. Abigail stayed at the rail on the starboard side. Not a hint of a smile or any happiness showed on her face. He made quick work of turning the ship’s wheel to adjust the rudder. Once he had the direction right, he rejoined her.

Her dismissal of him seemed to go deeper then any hormonal upset. Bound to wait her out, he choose to be jovial, until she forgot or got over whatever bothered her.

“Perfect currents, a beautiful day, what more could we ask for?” He smiled, and still got nothing in return from Abigail.

He stood with her for what seemed a long time. The occasional adjustments he had to make to their direction took him away for only several minutes at a time. Each return to Abigail’s side became a challenge to keep quiet. He lived alone all the time. Yet he never found staying silent so damn hard.

When Abigail went belowdecks, he thought to go too, see if they might sort through her upset. But he remained above. She returned shortly, having discarded the corset.

“There’s where we’re headed,” he finally pointed out, turning to shut down the steam for their descent.

“It’s not very big, is it?” She trailed him to the engine.

“Everything looks small from up here.” He watched her grab the handle on the small sail. “You’ve picked up rather quickly the routine of how to operate the sails.”

For the first time in hours, Abigail smiled.

“You look beautiful today,” he commented, hoping to keep her looking happy.

“Thank you.”

“And you’re not wearing the corset, I see.” He finished cranking the handle.

“One of the buckles broke.”

“I’ll fix it.”

“That would be nice.” Mindlessly, she touched the brooch.

“It’s an heirloom?” He nodded to indicate the cameo she rubbed.

Her gaze dropped to it. “Yes. It was my grandmother’s.”

“It’s lovely on you.” He checked that the steam pressure was down and then lowered another sail.

Abigail looked up as the canvas collapsed on the yardarm. The sour look she’d had appeared gone for good as she continued to help him land the
Illusion
.

“Feeling better?” he asked, suffering from the guilt of not questioning her dark mood earlier.

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” she snapped, proving he misjudged her mellowed temperament.

“I know some women find it a difficult topic to discuss with a man, but I would think after what we’ve been through, you’d know you can trust me to have sympathy for anything you need to share.”

“What are you babbling about?” She gave him a quizzical frown.

“Your womanly time.”

For the first time in over twenty-four hours, he heard her laugh. Not the pleasant little twitters of delight either. No, this had a serious tone of surprise and disbelief. Did she think he had no compassion for her condition?

“If you are inquiring as to whether I’ve started my menstrual cycle,” she began, “the answer is no. I told you yesterday, that’s weeks away and…Now I understand what you were taking about with the rags.” Another chuckle sputtered from her. “What on earth made you think I was having my…my womanly time?”

He felt more embarrassed than Abigail seemed to be. “Your sour disposition,” he answered honestly.

She gave a shrug, and he knew then she wasn’t going to explain anything to him. He suffered exasperation, but damned if the tight-lipped attribute to Abigail’s character didn’t have a sexy appeal to it—the kind of allure that made him want to spank her until she promised to be good.

Jasper dropped anchor, giving up his thoughts about something he couldn’t change. He released the longboat into the water, and then went below to fetch the Crystal Compass.

“Can I come back up top now?” Adam asked, looking too comfortable lounging on the bunk where Abigail and Jasper had made love.