The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 07

Thank you all for your positive comments and encouragement. Writing something this length is new to me and I am pleased you are all enjoying it. I will say that it may slow down with the updates for the moment as I am back at work. I won't abandon the story, it'll just be a bit slower. Thanks again.

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When Molly awoke the next morning, her head was throbbing, she opened her eyes a fraction and it took her a moment to remember where she was. A faint snore and a contented mumble beside her reminded her of last night's follies. James rolled over and reached for her, pulling her against him, she snuggled into the warmth and her eyes drifted shut again. The covers underneath her were the softest she'd ever slept on and she wanted to savour it for another moment.

"Molly?" he whispered. His voice was questioning, unsure. She murmured a response and he sighed. He rolled away and she heard him run his hands over his face, probably pushing masses of black curls out the way. Molly propped herself up on the pillows and looked down at James, he seemed so vulnerable somehow.

"Good morning," she said.

"Is it?"

"What?"

"Is it a good morning?" he rested a hand on his forehead and shut his pale blue eyes once more, "I didn't think I drank that much," he muttered.

"The food and the company were lovely," Molly said.

"Just those things?" he said. Blood flushed to her cheeks.

"Well..." He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood and stretched the muscles in his back, cat-like in their movements. She watched him dress and as he pulled a clean shirt over his head, she remembered the state her own was in. "You owe me one of those," she said.

"Yes," he said. He pulled one out of his clothes chest and threw it to her. Molly rose from the bed and dressed herself. James poured himself a mug of water from a nearby barrel and handed one to Molly. She took it and drank deeply, her mouth felt better straight away. Molly took the moment to look around the cabin. It was larger than Bess' had been on the Red Plunder but a lot more practical. There was a desk at one end with a large chest next to it. On the other side was the large bed where they'd spent the night. The door to the gallery was in the middle of the bulkhead surrounded by tiny diamond shaped windows. Sunlight flooded into the room, promising the day would be warm and fair. James sat down at the desk and kicked the chair opposite out and gestured for her to sit down. She didn't like the look on his face.

"Is there a problem?" she said. He thrust his hand through his black hair, pushing it out of his face and sighed.

"This is going to sound like shit," he said.

"Right," Molly said. She forced her hands to be still in her lap. He sat forward and leaned on the desk.

"I don't make a habit of making love to crew members. I think, well, I think last night was a mistake," he said holding her eyes. Molly lowered hers.

"I see," she said. She sat back in the chair and refused to smile. She looked across the deck, up the bulkhead, over the desk, anywhere but at him. She'd never been bothered by the men who'd used her, paid her for her services, this was different somehow. She felt, soiled. It was something she'd never felt until now. Looking across the desk she spotted the gold ship Bess had mentioned. The one she'd been sent here to steal. Her words echoed through her head unwanted, 'Just suck his cock a couple of times.' Maybe she didn't even have to do that. She glanced up at the Captain, he was awaiting her response. "Well, not much can be done if that's the way of things," she said, trying to keep her tone even, not betray anything she was feeling.

He nodded, "Thank you."

Molly remained silent; there was nothing else to say. All of a sudden, she wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else. The walls of the cabin seemed to close in and the scent of lavender became cloying and sickly. She stood, "If there is nothing else then," she said, letting the words trail off. He shook his head and Molly fled.

Not one of the crew blinked at her as she crossed the deck. The tasks the crew had been assigned that morning were all being undertaken with as much enthusiasm as could be mustered. The deck swabbers looked particularly thrilled with their task. Molly retrieved her sail making equipment and returned to her location on the forecastle. She grabbed a piece of unhemmed canvas and set to her task with as much gusto as she could muster; which wasn't much. The sun crept up the sky and brought with it a heat too intense, what little wind there was did nothing to relieve her like usual, instead it was like a hot breath on her face and made her feel worse.

By midday her head was pounding and all she wanted to do was crawl into her hammock and hide for the rest of the day. She'd hemmed one patch and had made a good start on the next when Mahoney walked over to her, "How's it coming?" he asked. She responded by holding up the piece of cloth. "Stitches are getting a bit large there," he said pointing at one of the corners, "Don't want it coming undone in a storm now."

"I'll re-do it," she said.

"Good lass, I also brought this over for you," he said. In his extended hand was a battered tricorn, "It ain't much but it'll keep the worst of the sun off your head. Can't have you catching heatstroke now," he added.

"Thank you," she said taking the hat and jamming it down on her head. She turned her attention back to the patch and Mahoney wandered off back to the deck. Molly had to admit she felt much better with a bit of shade on her eyes. The canvass didn't seem so glaringly white and she was a touch cooler too. As she picked out the bad stitching she glanced up at the soul in the crow's nest in envy, it would be cool up there, the breeze much stronger. Molly worked well into the evening, it was only when the sun began to set and the light became difficult to stitch by that she gave up. Once she'd put everything away and eaten her share of the evening meal did she ponder what to do. She'd seen nothing of the Captain all day and she was pretty sure she didn't want to either. In fact, company was the one thing she didn't want. She declined the offer of cards from Bart with a yawn and made her way to her hammock, maybe solitude would make her feel better.

It didn't. Alone in her hammock, the only thing she could think about was the Captain and how he'd made her feel the night before, so very different to how she felt now. What a jerk, who was he to just use her and throw her away afterwards without thought of her feelings? That's what she got for allowing herself to get drunk in front of him, next time she'd decline the invitation and know better. She rolled onto her side and pulled the thin sheet over her. It was nothing like where she'd slept the night before, nor was it as warm. She sighed and closed her eyes; she could try and sleep at the very least.

Molly was woken in the middle of the night by John. She'd been in a deep sleep; it took her ages to rouse herself, "What?" she muttered as she swung out of her hammock.

"Watch change is in ten minutes," he said, "We're on watch together so you'd best get yourself awake."

"I wasn't made aware," she said, groping around for her hat.

"Aye, I know, Captain changed it yesterday evening after you'd disappeared," he said.

"I see," she said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. It was going to be like that was it? "Maylan save me from the whims of men," she hissed as she followed John on deck.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," said John as the night breeze washed over them.

"Not you John," she said with a sigh.

"Come on then lass, up top with you," he said. She blinked a moment and followed his eyes to the crow's nest.

"Why me?" she said with a squeak. It would be cold up there at this time of night.

"You're the newest crew member and your ten years younger than me, your eyes are going to be a damned sight better than mine," he said. She couldn't argue with that. She swung herself into the shrouds and climbed the main mast until she reached the nest. She was right; it was cold. She snuggled into the shirt the Captain had given her that morning and willed herself not to smell his lavender scent. It clung to the garment and all she could think of was his blue eyes, intense and beautiful, as he lay over her. A shiver walked down her spine and warmth settled in her belly. Maylan's breath, no one had ever made her feel that way before; shame he had to be such a jerk afterwards. Molly hoped he was suffering in the same way she was. Somehow, she doubted it.

Molly scanned the horizon as best she could; there was nothing out there except water, blackness and starlight. The wind was stronger up here and she could hear the sails billowing, as well as the orders being given from the helm. It was going to be a long six hours. Nothing happened. She spend six long hours in the cold wind and nothing happened. There was nothing to see except the slight stain of the sky just before the sun started to rise. She jumped when a fresh faced young lad came to relieve her watch. "Thanks," she muttered as she swung back into the shrouds. She yawned as she began her descent and was glad to finally be back on the deck again. Her hands were so cold she wondered whether she'd get any feeling back in them. She was about to go below when Mahoney appeared in the doorway.

"Ah! Molly, just who I wanted to find," he said, his smile was broad.

"What can I do for you?" she said, trying not to yawn again.

"I've a job for you below with a couple of the lads, the cargo's come loose on one side of the hold and they need help shifting it," he said placing his hands on his hips.

"Now?" He nodded.

"Captain said you'd be the one for the job," he added.

"I thought he might," she said, "I'll make my way there."

"Good lass," he said. She spun on her heels and made her way down the hatch and into the holds. It was as hot and damp as she knew it would be, and she was the first one there. She made a start shifting the smaller crates. By the time she was joined by two others, her eyes stung as sweat trickled down her forehead. The three of them set to the task they'd been given and the crates were all secure after three hours. This time when Molly tried to go below deck, she wasn't stopped by anyone. The call of her hammock was so loud she'd not hear anyone else anyway. She clambered into it and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.