17. Jonto #5
Pris, who’d been watching Jonto with a speculative look in those perceptive, pearl-grey eyes, turned to see what Isla had discovered.
“A George Stubbs? Really, Isla, I hardly think—” She stopped mid-sentence when she saw the painting in question and joined her friend.
“My God.” She bent to examine the artwork from a different angle and then turned disbelieving eyes on Jonto.
In turn, Jonto strode to the painting, trying not to look as inordinately pleased at the twin facts that she did, indeed, own a George Stubbs and that these two women had recognized it as such.
“It is a Stubbs. Queen Caroline Amalie of Denmark owed me a small favor, and this was how she chose to repay me. As you know, she’s quite a supporter of the arts. ”
Small favor, indeed. Kidnappers had taken Caroline’s paramour and spirited him out of the kingdom.
She’d discreetly hired Jonto to find him, pay the ransom, and return him to her side.
The Stubbs was bestowed upon the pirate captain along with a passionate kiss Jonto wouldn’t soon forget.
Too bad she hadn’t been able to capitalize on the alluring queen’s gratitude in a more pleasurable way.
The monarch’s famously delicate facial features and high cheekbones, not to mention a delicious body softly rounded in all the right places, had been a tempting morsel, one she’d had to forgo for inconvenient, ever-frustrating reasons.
Still holding the carved ivory chess piece, she held it up and asked, “Speaking of queens, do any of you play?”
Both women tore their gazes from the painting to see what Jonto meant. When Isla saw the chess piece, her whole face brightened. “I do. My mother was an excellent player, as is Celie.” She indicated her friend with a smile. “I hope there will be time to play during our voyage.”
Jonto returned to the chess table, put the queen back in the drawer, slid it shut, and pushed the latch into place.
“Oh, there will be. While captaining a ship the size of the Jest can be time-consuming, one of the prerogatives of being said captain is that I make my own schedule and will enjoy vanquishing each of you in turn.”
Robert chuckled at Isla’s huff of disbelief.
“You’ll have a challenge on your hands, Jonto.
I rarely beat Lady Brighton, and I’m considered one of the best at the club.
” A puzzled frown appeared. “On another note, I notice you and your crew refer to you as captain, and yet, I was with the King when he raised you to the rank of Admiral. Surely, referring to you by that title would be more appropriate?”
“Please don’t take offense at this, but I’m an admiral only while in your kingdom and only then when flying your king’s flag beneath my own.
I requested the promotion for tactical purposes, nothing more.
When I’m sailing under my own flag, I choose to remain the captain of my ship and am referred to as Lord High Commander when one refers to my position over my fleet. ”
Judging by the deepening of Robert’s frown, Jonto once more felt the need to change the subject.
Perhaps having the Fitzgeralds along as chaperones hadn’t been the best of Lady Pierpont’s ideas.
Granted, it had all been very last minute, but she couldn’t help wishing that Celie might have been enough to satisfy the high standards society insisted upon when protecting the reputations of the women of the ton.
She moved to a heavy, rectangular table.
“Feel free to use any furniture you like. The dining table is large enough to accommodate our numbers, and this is where we’ll be taking most of our meals. ”
She turned and held her hands out, palms up.
“You’re welcome to explore any part of the ship except my cabin, which I keep locked at all times, including when I’m inside.
That doesn’t preclude you from visiting, and if you need anything, please feel free to knock.
Oh.” She pointed to the wall-mounted oil lamps.
“Alpia will light the lamps out here, and if you need help lighting the lanterns in your rooms at night, she’ll be happy to do that as well. ”
Attuned to the sounds of her ship, Jonto listened to shouts on deck. She recognized Nico’s heavy tread on the stairs leading to the quarterdeck and quickly said, “Excuse me,” as she moved past Celie to wait for the big man to enter the outer door.
“The Embrace is stowed, Captain. The decks are cleared, and the crew stands by for your orders.”
Jonto nodded and stepped out onto the quarterdeck. She scanned the decks and ran her discerning gaze up each mast to ensure all was as it should be before issuing orders to Nico, who bellowed them loud enough for everyone stationed on the main deck to hear. “Lay aloft and loose all sails.”
The crew climbed to the tops of each sail and loosed the gaskets or ropes that held the furled sails to the yards. Once the sails were loosed and the crews descended to the deck, Jonto said, “Prepare to set the sails.” She hardly noticed when her five guests came outside to watch.
Nico bellowed the captain’s order, and the crew took their places.
When all was ready, Jonto shouted, “Sheet home lower topsails.” The topsail sheets were hauled tight by men and women hauling on large ropes up and down the ship.
Without further prompting from Jonto, the big first mate ordered, “Hoist upper topsails,” followed closely by “Set the topgallants and royals!”
When all was ready, Jonto, standing with her legs apart and hands resting lightly on the bulwark, ordered, “Man the halyards.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled at Celie, who’d gasped in wonder as the sheets—ropes that controlled the angle of the sails—were released to allow the sails to fill with wind.
The sounds produced by those magnificent sails filling with the exhale from the gods themselves never failed to thrill Jonto.
The masts and rigging creaked and groaned under the strain, and the shouts of “trim the sails” floated on the wind as sailors hurried to obey.
Jonto shouted, “All rigging clear!” ensuring the lines were free of obstructions.
“Weigh anchor.” Men and women took stations around the capstan, a large multi-spoked wheel that required two people per spoke to walk the wheel around and around in a circle to raise the anchor.
When the loud clanking of the anchor chain subsided, several other orders were given.
Finally, Jonto turned to her helmsman and commanded, “Helm to starboard. Take us out.”
As the massive man of war gradually pointed its bow toward the open sea, Jonto’s spirit soared at the thought of returning to where her brother’s spirit commanded the wind and waves and propelled his twin sister’s ship into the grand, unknown adventure awaiting her.