Ocean's Justice (8 page)

Kaito stepped back cautiously, his eyes never leaving mine. "Among my people, there are stories of women samurai, MacuGuregoru-san – warriors who all men feared. This one may have the soul of such a warrior."

He feinted at me and I dodged, shaking free of William's restraining arms. I might not have their experience in inflicting violence, but that didn't make me helpless.

The next blow he aimed was no feint, but it didn't connect, either. He moved and I darted away, the tiniest twinge of his muscles telling me which way to go. He started slow, but my smile only widened as I turned, ducked, dodged and stepped out of his reach. Blows rained harder and faster, but I kept up, twisting my body as I danced away from the man. I was lighter on my feet and it showed – I was always a step ahead of him.

I saw a twitch in his thigh as he aimed a kick at me and I leaped, twisting in mid-air to avoid a well-placed fist as his leg swept beneath me. As our dance picked up the tempo, I couldn't wipe the smile from my face – even in my cumbersome clothing, I'd never felt so free. Wanting to see how he'd floored William so quickly, I advanced on him as if I wished to attack.

His eyes flashed in triumph as he seized my lapel with one hand and the waistband of my pants with the other. His foot hooked behind my knee, pulling me toward him, and I tipped back, lowered to the deck by his grip on my clothing. The moment he released me, I rolled, rising to my feet.

"McGregor! I said if there was any more fighting on my ship I'd drop the culprit overboard. I don't care if you're a paying passenger and my wife's cousin, by God I'll send you off in a lifeboat with naught but yourself for company if I find you fighting again." The crowd eddied aside, as if a strong rip pulled everything out of its path.

Kaito's attention was riveted on the shouting captain's approach, along with everyone else.

"McGregor! Do you want the girl to think we're a pack of savages, beating the daylights out of each other until they fall to the deck?"

I swallowed and tried to remember the sequence. Shoulder, hip, hook, pull...oh, my. Kaito smacked to the deck, looking shocked as he stared up at me. I burst out laughing.

"What the deuce is going on here?" Captain Foster demanded.

William coughed. "It started as a friendly competition, captain. A few men challenged me to a boxing match and we placed some small wagers. Others came to watch and I won the first few bouts, before Kaito beat me to become the next champion."

"An amateur boxing match is hardly the place for a woman, McGregor." Captain Foster glanced at me, then glared back at William.

William looked like he was trying not to laugh. "So I said to her, captain. Only Maria...I don't think she agreed with me. Then she...she dropped Kaito here to the deck." He offered his arm to the man and Kaito took it, rising to his feet.

Now all eyes were on me.

"This girl beat a man in a boxing ring?" Captain Foster's voice dripped with the disbelief reflected in his wide eyes. I lifted my chin to meet his gaze. I didn't fear this man, but I began to believe that he feared me more than a little.

Both William and Kaito nodded. "It seems she knows a bit of his Eastern hand-to-hand fighting, too."

Captain Foster didn't seem to know what to do. Turning away from me, his shoulders sagged. "I want everyone to get back on duty. And you, McGregor – get her out of my sight. If the shipowners knew I'd let a woman get into a boxing match with the crew...they'd be outraged. Take her below – looks like we have another storm coming in."

William grabbed his shirt off the top of the crate and curled an arm around my shoulders. "Better do what he says, lass. You don't want to be stuck in a lifeboat on your lonesome again, I'm sure."

Twelve

William slammed the door behind us and threw his shirt on his bunk. "What were you thinking? Why didn't you stay here like I told you to?" he demanded, lifting the bucket of water onto the locker. He cupped some water in his hands and splashed it on his face before he dumped the remainder over his head, sending water everywhere – even on me, on the other side of the tiny cabin. A puddle started to form on the deck by his feet. "A fight is no place for a woman. You could have been...ungh!" His words faded into agonised sounds as he gingerly fingered his ribs. Bruises were already forming beneath the skin and I feared the bones were broken.

He dropped to his knees and rummaged through the locker. Pulling out a roll of cloth, he held it out to me. "Here. All women know how to bandage, don't they? Natural-born nurses and all."

I took the roll and examined it. It was barely bigger than my fist – a rolled strip perhaps as wide as my wrist. I stared at the man who now stood before me. He looked expectant, but I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. I had no idea what he wanted me to do.

He made an exasperated sound and snatched the cloth back. William proceeded to unroll the fabric, wrapping it around his chest repeatedly, grimacing in pain as the poorly-applied bandage slipped down his torso.

Realisation dawned. He wanted me to bind his broken ribs. "William," I said, reaching out to touch him. The bandage slipped from his fingers and slid down to his waist. I smiled as I unwound it. First, I needed to check where he was injured – if I put too much pressure on a different injury to support his ribs, I could do further damage.

I touched my fingers to the darkest bruising.

"Hey! That hurts!" he complained, shrinking away from my touch.

Holding my hand over his injury, I repeated, "Hurts?" I shifted my hand to his stomach, which appeared undamaged. "No hurts?" For what felt like the hundredth time, I wished I knew the words to ask him for what I needed. I wanted to be able to say, "Tell me what hurts, you great big baby, so I know what to tend first."

William sighed and pointed to his bruise. "This hurts." He gestured at his cheek, where his angry scrubbing had reopened the cut on his lip. "This." He held up his hands, so that I could see where the skin had split across his reddened knuckles. "These, too."

I nodded, but it was his ribs that I focussed on. Broken or just bruised? Kaito had kicked him hard, but surely not hard enough to break bone, nor had William crashed into anything afterwards. Avoiding the dark discolouration, I probed the hard muscle around it. His skin was hot and moist beneath my fingers, but he didn't flinch the way he had before. Trying to be as light as possible, I touched the bruising again, following the line of his ribs to ascertain if there really was a fracture. No – they seemed intact.

"No broke. Hurt, no broke," I announced, biting the unravelled cloth to tear it into two pieces. I took his hand in mine and bound his fingers in the length of cloth, tying it at the end to secure it. I did the same with his other hand. "No hurt," I assured him, smiling.

His lips lifted a little and blood trickled from the cut. I had no cloth left, but I knew where he kept his handkerchief. I slipped my fingers into his pants pocket, feeling for the folded square of fabric. Through the thin pocket lining, I could feel more hot, hard muscle beneath, but I'd also found the bunched-up handkerchief, so I withdrew my hand and dabbed at his lip. William took the handkerchief from me and did his own dabbing, looking conflicted.

"You shouldn't go rifling through a man's pockets like that. You might find things a lady like yourself shouldn't...oughtn't..." He stopped as if searching for the words to continue while his face grew red with embarrassment. This seemed to fuel some fire within him. "What were you thinking? Jumping from the mast into a ring of fighting men. You could have been killed. You could have been hurt. One of them might have attacked you – I might have attacked you. Kaito did. Did he hit you – hurt you?" Anger turned to panic. "Are you hurt?" He framed my face in his hands, his eyes boring into mine.

I shook my head. I might not understand all of his words, but his body and his voice spoke volumes to me. While his voice was angry, his eyes were concerned, with the edge of panic that permeated his words at the end. Not to mention the tender way his hands held me now. My wellbeing mattered to him. I mattered to him. A smile lifted my lips as I said, "No, William. No hurt."

"Good," he murmured, pressing his lips to mine. His warm kiss swept me away on a thrilling wave that bubbled through my body like sea-foam. His tongue surged into my mouth and I tightened my arms around his neck, though I couldn't recall how they'd found their way to what felt like the most natural place for them to be.

"Oh, William," I sighed when we paused for breath. My lips tingled from his kisses and the bristly hair on his upper lip and chin. His fingers combed through my hair as I rested my head against his. I never wanted to let him go.

The bell-like clanging of someone hitting the door startled me. William gently disengaged from me as the door swung open and Charlie staggered inside, holding a bottle in one hand. "Mr Allchin bet against you in the fight. He lost so much money that he offered me rum instead. I took it and I thought I should share it with you and Maria, seeing as you two won me the bottle...hic!" He wove through the tiny cabin until he bumped against the wall and stood there with a bemused smile on his face.

William took the bottle from his hand. "You should eat something before you drink too much more of that, boy. How about we leave it here and go see what we can find in the mess." He set the bottle down and ushered both of us out of the cabin.

The mess deck was half-full, but all conversation died when we entered. No one seemed willing to meet my eyes – they were all very intent on the unappetising food. William noticed my unease and all three of us finished our food in record time, not lingering to talk.

When we returned to our cabin, William pulled me aside as Charlie went in. "You should head up to your bunk. Out of reach – just to be safe," William whispered to me, indicating that I should ascend. A glance at Charlie, who was clumsily swigging from the rum bottle, told me the boy wasn't entirely in control of his body any more, so I clambered up the ladder and sat cross-legged on my bunk. My head almost brushed the low ceiling.

Charlie held out the bottle. "To old-fashioned chivalry and lovely ladies!" he shouted, lifting the bottle to his lips. He stopped drinking abruptly and started coughing, then wiped his mouth and handed the bottle to William.

"I'll drink to the lady," William said, taking a swig. He stared at the label. "That's not a bad bottle of rum. I bet Allchin was saving that. Maria, would you like a taste?" He lifted the rum and I stretched for it, snagging the bottle from his hand.

Both men stared at me as I brought the open mouth to my lips. The liquor had a strong smell that burned my nose and my throat, I found as I swallowed a large mouthful of the stuff. Cautiously, I took another, smaller sip, but it was no less fiery. If anything, it stoked the flames in my throat even higher. I held the bottle out to the men – I wasn't sure I wanted any more.

Someone took it from me – I didn't notice who, as I was preoccupied with the effect the drink had on my body. The burning sensation spread from my throat outwards, diffusing into a warm, pleasant buzz. I gasped, focussing purely on the feeling. The only time I'd ever felt anything like this was in Giuseppe's arms – or when I'd kissed William though the bottled warmth was far inferior to both of these. It was like comparing my raft to this ship. No comparison at all, really.

After several minutes, I became accustomed to the rum's effects and I thought about tasting it once more. I crept forward, my legs sliding off the edge of the bunk. I looked down – I could easily jump the distance to the floor.

A warm hand closed around my ankle. "You have bee...be-yooful legs, Miss M'ria," Charlie slurred, stroking my foot with one hand as he took a deep draught from the bottle with the other.

I laughed, tugging my foot from his grasp as I seized the rum. I tipped the bottle up and drank until someone ripped it from my hands.

"That's enough for you, lass. Hard liquor's not something you should drink too much of." Angrily, I reached for the bottle William held, but he turned away, swallowing the rest. He held the bottle upside down. Not a drop fell from it – he'd emptied it.

I heard a groan and peered down. Charlie was crawling toward the door. He fell face-first into the tin bucket an instant before he vomited explosively and the bucket caught it.

William grasped my still-reaching hand as he set the empty bottle on the locker. "That's what happens when you drink too much. The only cure for it is time." He strode over to Charlie and hauled the boy to his feet. Thrusting the bucket into the boy's hands, he said, "Time to go back to your own cabin to sleep it off, lad. Thank you for sharing your winnings. You'll wish you hadn't won them in the morning, but you'll have to learn some time." He half carried, half dragged the boy into the passage and closed the door. I heard Charlie throw up again before his shuffling steps faded down the corridor.