The Grey Lady Ch. 07

Bilge informed him of all that he had discovered, handing him the blade he had cleaned after finding it in a pool of blood.

Toby had not been able to answer many questions as to what had happened. The bump on the back of his head had given him quite a headache and his eye sight was a bit blurred, but he was pronounced in need of a day or two of rest. Bilge had questioned him and started putting the answers together

Bilge watched as Jake took out the documents and locked them away in the desk. At least that was a success. The First Mate glanced over at the woman asleep on the bunk. He suspected that this time Jake may have underestimated this woman. He knew better that to smile as he wondered just how long it would take the man to realize it himself. The Captain was relatively intelligent, but sometimes we can't see the things right in front of our own nose.

"You best get your own wound looked at," Bilge kept a straight face.

Jake momentarily looked at him, confused, before Bilge nodded in the direction of Jake's arm. The Captain downplayed the cut.

"I've had worse cuts before just shaving."

"Maybe you need a new razor -- Sir." Bilge couldn't resist a grin as Jake removed his shirt while Bilge got out the bandages. It didn't need stitches and as the First Mate wrapped it, Jake made note.

"One of the first things we need to do when we get to Wexling is get a new doc. At least one that can fight. Doesn't do any good to have an infirmary if the doctor goes and gets himself killed on practically the first job out."

"So, how's Samantha?"

"She'll be okay. At least, I think."

"Care to let me in on exactly what happened? I am just curious..."

"I found DuFey swinging her around like a toy. Course, that was after Sam managed to stick him a couple of time, I think. I decided to put him out of our misery."

"By the way, that fabric you picked up is over there." Bilge pointed over to the trunk top. "And we should meet up with the Admiral sometime tomorrow.

"How many did we lose?"

"Fifteen injured, three of them unable to work right now. That includes Donovan. Six dead." Bilge paused. "Including the fact that someone went down and shot Pete through the bars of the brig."

Jake stopped and looked at him incredulously. "What? Did they try to get him out?"

"No. Just shot him right through the bars." Jake stopped for a moment. "I thought that you'd find that interesting," Bilge said. He could see the Captain's mind heading for the same conclusion he had made.

"We have a spy on board?"

"It may look that way," Bilge said quietly. "Maybe he was part it?" They both grew quiet, turning over the implications in their minds.

At last, things quieted down. Toby was in his hammock for a couple of days of rest. Still unconscious, the Captain kept Samantha tucked in the bunk. Cook had brought him something to eat, though he really wasn't hungry. He ate anyway as he knew that he needed to keep up his strength. He sat there looking at her. Despite the beating she had taken, she was doing good. He had told her to be strong, and she had. She had protected herself. He smiled.

Samantha became fitful in sleep and he found that she seemed calmer when he held her in his arms. Needing sleep too, he stripped down and crawled in bed beside her, feeling the warmth of her body. Her skin, though bruised, was soft and warm. He drew her into his arms and in her unconscious state, she seemed to burrow into him, letting loose a deep sigh. He ran his hand along her back, comforting her. She turned her face into his chest, her soft breath tickling the hairs there. Sleep finally claimed him too.

Later that day, Samantha stirred, waking Jake. The look in her eyes told him of her pain. She cleared her throat, bringing her hand up and wincing when she touched the bruise.

"What happened?" she croaked.

"I came in and found DuFey treating you like his favorite toy."

"And?"

"I shot him."

"What took you so long?" She paused. "Wait, you knew him?"

"Captain Harry DuFey."

"The captain of the Ramrod? No wonder he wanted your treasure."

"So, how did you manage to stab him?"

"I told him that I would tell him where it was."

Jake grinned at her. "Remind me not to reveal any secrets to you."

A knock at the door was Cook with broth for Sam. Jake took it and crossed to the bunk, carrying the tray. "This will make you feel better than anything else."

She slowly sat up, obviously in pain but determined nevertheless. The covers fell away, bunching in her lap to reveal those soft twin peaks, full and heavy and delightfully inviting.

Jake rested the tray on her lap and sat beside her on the bed facing her, their bare thighs touching as the broth warmed and wafted its scent to entice her to eat. He watched her breath deep and with a somewhat shaky hand began to spoon the liquid from the bowl to her lips, blowing to cool it. With the first spoonful, most of the contents wound up on her breast instead of in her mouth.

Jake quickly leaned forward to lick the drops of broth from her breast, his tongue broadly swiping across the top of her right breast and catching Sam by surprise. He looked at her, his smile distinctly impish.

"I shall be milady's napkin," he told her. She gave him a fleeting smile. Each spoonful gave her strength and eventually the entire spoonful was making it to her mouth, though if the truth be known, he really didn't mind cleaning her up. Apparently, neither did Sam. She took the last spoonful of broth and started to lift it to her lips before stopping and purposefully tipping it to dribble the broth on her breast. She looked up at him.

"Sorry. My hand slipped." She gave him a slight smile.

"I can see that." He leaned in and licked all of the broth off of her. "Better now?"

She nodded as he took the tray from her and set it on the desk. He turned to find her staring at his nude body with neither passion nor fear. He knew that she needed time.

He crossed to her, smiling, before leaning over to kiss her lightly on the forehead, then crawled into bed beside her and pulled the sheet back with one hand. He looked at her and pat the bed beside him. "Come on, dear. You need more rest." He waited patiently as she slowly scooted down beside him. He pulled the covers over both of them before pulling her in close to his side. As they settle down for sleep, he slowly stroked her hip, her skin smooth and soft. Back and forth his hand traveled across that gentle curve before drifting up to cup her breast. She sighed and he smiled. She was a very passionate creature; she just didn't realize it.

He could feel her body start to relax. She leaned into him, her arm eventually stealing around his waist and her head tucked under his chin. Her breathing slowed and he could tell that she was dreaming. Low and soft she whispered as he held her close. At first, it was just mumbling -- he could not discern any specific word. Then, she took a deep breath and a name slipped out from between her lips. "John." His hand stopped, her voice sounding worried -- it must be a bad dream. He wondered just who John was.

He pondered the events of the day until he followed her into somnolence.

*****

In the morning Samantha awoke to find herself alone in the room. Her fingers touched the bed where he had lain and felt cool sheets. By the sun filtering through the porthole, she knew he had probably been up for some time. Memories flooded back from the previous day and a thought crossed her mind. Jake had not mentioned Toby. Was the lad okay? The last time she had seen him he had been unconscious. Her heart wrenched at the thought that he might be badly hurt! Or even killed! Surely Jake would have told her if that was so, unless he had been afraid to say. She had to find out the truth!

Samantha threw the covers off and tried moving to the edge of the bed. Muscles screamed and she grimaced as she forced herself to stand. Looking around, she didn't see her clothes anywhere. Every part of her body hurt as she crossed over to the trunk. She opened it and started to rummage through it, looking for her clothes somewhere.

"If you will tell me what you seek, I will help you find it." Jake's voice came from over near the door. She stopped, standing up straight and turned to him. Her heart jumped just seeing him. He leaned back against the door, arms crossed.

"Is Toby okay?'

"Yes, but you won't find him in that trunk."

"No, I know that. I was looking for my clothes to go check on him. Is he really okay?"

"Yes, he's really okay. Oh, he has a nice lump on his head and a bit of a headache, but he should be back to normal tomorrow."

"Well, where are my clothes?"

He pushed off, crossing over to the porthole. Beneath it was a bundle of clothes that she had not noticed. He dropped it in her hands and she was marveled at its touch.

She crossed to sit on the bunk and unwrapped the soft materials. It was obviously a silk dress, soft in a silvery shade of lavender. Sam held her breath. Never had she seen anything so beautiful. She looked up at Jake with a question in her eyes.

"I liberated it from the Ramrod. As much as I personally prefer you as you are now," Sam flushed as his eyes looked at her with definite lust before he continued, "I feel that if you were to venture out as such I might have a mutiny on my hands. Besides, your pirate clothes do not do you justice. I'm sorry that there is no maid to dress you. I will have to do."

He helped her rise and she could feel his eyes on her, watching as the dress slid over her body. She marveled at how wonderful it felt. Despite her bruises, the material caressed her sore skin. Though obviously made for a woman who was a bit taller than herself and a bit less endowed, the dress could definitely be worn by her. It had a square neckline accented with delicate white lace and puffy short sleeves. The high empire waist fit just under her bust line. Falling in a gentle flair to the floor, the hem of the skirt was decorated with fabric roses about the size of her palm and were in a shade deeper than the dress. A row of tiny buttons ran down the back, causing Jake no end of trouble as his fingers now attempted to button them. Despite the lack of undergarments, Samantha still felt more properly attired wearing the dress.

Jake finally buttoned the last button with the aid of a few mild explicatives, then rested his hands on her shoulders. She turned to face him, joy showing on her face.

"Thank you."

"You look beautiful." He ran a finger along her chin and lifted her face up to kiss her, one arm gently wrapped around her and his other hand stroking her hair. It was a soft gentle kiss, lightly probing. Insistent. He raised his head to stare deep in her eyes, his hand still on the back of her head with her hair woven through his fingers.

"I don't think you realize just how beautiful you are."

She blushed at his words, and yet his arms strangely comforted to her.

He looked down at her with an intensity that took her breath away. "I was afraid that I had lost you." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "But you stood up for yourself. I'm very proud of you."

*****

The trip he and Bilge had made to pass on the document to the Admiral had been successful. The Admiral's ship had appeared on the horizon near midmorning and they had rowed over in the long boat leaving the Quartermaster in charge. The Admiral had been very happy with the results, including the blowing up of the Ramrod. They were paid handsomely for the job before Jake and Bilge headed back to the Grey Lady.

When he had returned back to the ship, he had found her looking through the trunk. She was naked and bent over the trunk, her ass and pussy prominent. He had kissed that area, drank her nectar, had cupped that ass, had made love to that body.

The look she gave him when he presented her the dress was worth everything. Funny how one thin dress could make her smile. The way she stroked the soft material -- he imagined her stroking him with such love and care. And yet he hated to cover her nude body -- one of his favorite views of her -- only to be outdone by the view of her under him in bed in the throes of sexual bliss. Even with all the bruises, her beauty almost left him breathless. Then the dress went on, and her face lit up.

The buttons had proved to almost be his undoing. How in the hell did women do it? His fingers had felt thick and cumbersome, finding it hard to shove the small buttons through even smaller holes.

Her beauty showed a certain fragility. The dress somehow accented her curves despite the fact that it hid them more than the pants and shirt had. The thick blue bruise that surrounded her neck and the finger bruises on her arms were the only outward evidence of what she had endured. That and her weight loss. He really needed to get her to eat more to get back to the weight she was when she arrived on board The Grey Lady.

But the effect was incredible. It looked as if it had been made just for her. His Moon Goddess. His Grey Lady.

Her hair was soft as he felt it brush against his hands and he gently drew her to him, proud of her strength -- it had taken a lot to fight as she had, especially after all she had been through. But she was learning to be strong. It worried him that she still claimed to have no memory of her past. Or had her memory returned and she just kept it from him? Just who was this 'John'?

Her lips were soft. Her eyes showed in their grey gaze the pain she still felt. But behind the pain he saw something else, something new.

He held her close, wondering just who she was.