22. Jonto
Jonto
Jonto stood inside her cabin with her back to the door, wondering what she’d been thinking when she suggested Isla might prefer to wear breeches.
She covered her eyes with both hands and groaned.
Nothing had prepared her for the absolute perfect curves of the woman’s body.
Her rounded backside and the way Babette’s special bodice lifted those lovely breasts in a way the other bodices hadn’t had nearly undone her.
She thought about their trip to the island in the morning, estimating they’d arrive somewhere around four bells.
She’d already discussed with Robert and Nico the necessity of carrying the ladies ashore from the skiff.
Seeing Isla dressed in the clothes she’d be wearing made Jonto wonder if she’d lost her sanity.
Even though the storm had thoroughly soaked her, there was added wetness between her legs that hadn’t been there while she’d worked in the rain.
She couldn’t imagine what it would be like tomorrow after carrying Isla ashore and then traipsing around with her across the island, exploring all the wonders they’d discovered there.
“Get yourself together, Jonto.” She long ago stopped thinking of herself as Lucrèce, and whenever she berated herself, she referred to herself as Jonto.
“She’s completely out of bounds. She’s your new neighbor in a kingdom that absolutely forbids physical relations between you and another woman.
Not to mention the fact that you can’t let her know you’re really a woman in disguise.
” Pulling in a deep breath, she opened the door and called out, “Sandy, go ask Nico to join me, please.”
Sandy finished placing the final three plates on the table and pulled her forelock. “Aye, Cap’n. On me way.”
Jonto closed the door and retrieved dry clothes from her closet.
Stepping behind a wooden accordion screen she’d had installed in the master bedroom, she peeled off her coat and wet tunic, tossing them on the other side of the screen.
Next, she unwound the wide band she wore to conceal her breasts and dropped it on top of the tunic.
She kept a U-shaped boot jack in the corner, and once she’d wedged in her heel, her foot slid out accompanied by an obscene sucking sound as the wet leather clung to her like a ghoulish, grasping hand, refusing to let go.
After repeating the action for the second boot, she placed them outside the screen so Nico could take them to her personal valet.
The man had become expert at carefully drying the leather to avoid the shrinkage that had ruined her favorite pair of boots many years earlier.
As a rule, no one entered Jonto’s quarters except her big first mate, not even her ship-board valet.
Eduardo had his quarters below deck and was perfectly content to have Jonto’s private things delivered to him for cleaning or drying, and he considered the fact that he didn’t have to clean the captain’s quarters an added bonus.
It wasn’t usually Nico who delivered her things, though.
Normally, she put all her clothing—minus her breastbands— and bedding into a bag and set the bag outside the door for Alpia to collect.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option while her guests were using the wardroom during their trip.
A knock sounded just as she peeled off her stockings. “Come.” The door opened, and when she heard it click shut again, she called out. “I hope that’s you, Nico.”
Nico moved closer to the screen and said in a quiet voice meant to prevent anyone from overhearing, “Maybe you shouldn’t leave your door unlocked if you’re undressing when people are in the wardroom.”
“I know, I thought about that after I’d already undressed, although I doubt anyone would come in without knocking.”
“I knocked, and you still said come in without knowing who I was. That’s not like you, Jonto.”
With a sigh, Jonto toweled herself dry before sitting on a padded Queen Anne’s chair and reversing the process she’d just gone through.
She pulled on a pair of dry stockings, breeches, and dry boots and continued talking while she wrapped another breastband around her chest. “I know.” Once she’d settled her tunic, she stepped out from behind the screen while briskly rubbing her hair dry. “I think I’m in trouble, Nico.”
Nico grabbed the laundry bag and began stuffing the wet items inside. “How so?”
They were both speaking quietly now despite the fact that Jonto had constructed the walls of her cabin using heavier materials than usual to dampen the sound.
Not only that, she’d also covered the walls facing the wardroom with heavy, colorful tapestries she’d collected over the years.
“Despite my brain telling me it’s disastrous to court fantasies about my neighbor, my body has decided that’s exactly what it wants to do.
I can’t seem to think straight around her, and just now, when I saw her dressed in breeches and one of Babette’s bodices, well, I don’t need to be graphic about what happened, but I’m sure you can guess. ”
They’d been over this many times during the past ten years.
Jonto would spend time with a woman she found attractive.
Inevitably, she’d want more but could never bring herself to trust anyone with her secret.
A deep depression would follow, and it would take Nico several late nights of talking about all she’d lose if she revealed her true sex to keep her from bedding whatever woman had caught her fancy this time.
And while he could empathize with her needs, he’d also remind her of her ships and the people who depended on her to convince her she didn’t dare give away her secrets.
Well, that and he’d suggest an extended voyage, something that never failed to lift her spirits.
Meeting up with Jack while at sea helped ease her sexual desires, but it didn’t extinguish that faint hope that someday she’d find someone she could trust with her secrets, someone to share her life with, to love and cherish to the end of her days.
Nico grabbed the boots and set them by the door.
“Lady Brighton is intelligent, beautiful, and prickly. Three traits that draw you like a moth to a flame. Luckily, when we return, she’ll no longer be available, and your problem will be solved.
Not that I’d wish marriage to that obsequious bastard, Montfort, on anyone, but if the King has decided that’s what’s going to happen, then no hedge witch or Archduchess is going to save her. ”
With a long sigh, Jonto ran a brush through her shoulder-length hair, pulled it into a tail at the back of her neck, and checked her whiskers to ensure none had fallen out of place during the storm.
“You’re right. I know you are, and I’m just being stupid, as usual.
” She turned to face him. “We’ve made pretty good lives for ourselves, haven’t we?
Our love lives notwithstanding. But you have Bella here on the ship, and I have Jack when the need arises. ”
“We have. It’s not perfect, but I don’t think anyone’s lives are perfect, do you?
” Without expecting a response, Nico hung the breast band over the screen to dry and then stuffed the last clothing items into the bag.
He wrapped a leather thong around the top to keep it closed.
“I’ll get these to Eduardo. You have just enough time to offer drinks before dinner.
” Lifting a tailored, midnight blue dinner jacket off a coat stand, Nico held it open while Jonto slipped her arms into the sleeves and settled it into place.
“Thanks. See you at dinner.” Jonto stepped through the door and once again greeted her guests. “Can I offer anyone a drink? I believe you enjoy a good cognac, Lady Brighton, and I happen to have some bottles of Rémy Martin if you’d care to enjoy your mother’s favorite in her honor.”
“You remembered.”
Isla’s quiet pleasure delighted Jonto as she walked to a set of double doors.
She flipped the latch, opened the doors, and stepped to the side to allow everyone to see the work of art hidden inside.
Her guests’ murmurs of appreciation were expected since that was how most people reacted when they saw her custom-made liquor cabinet.
Finally, Isla asked, “Did Ouen craft this?”
An artisan had fashioned it from rich mahogany with distinctive reddish-brown grain running throughout.
“No. The man who built this for me is a true master. He personally crafted every twisted braid along the edges and carved the Kraken on the top from a single slab of wood.” She raised the top up and down on its hinges to demonstrate how the mechanism worked but, in the end, left it closed so they could examine the artwork.
“And down here,” she knelt in front of two doors that opened outward, “he hand-worked individual pieces of maple, inlaid them with mother-of-pearl, and set them to resemble a wine-tasting party beneath the sea.”
Isla stepped forward, followed by Pris and Robert. She placed her hands on her knees as she bent low to better inspect the work. “Mermaids and naiads?—”
Pris bent down, too, but chose to keep her hands clasped behind her back.
“And look. A triton, half-man, half-fish, and—” she turned her head to get a better angle, “I’m not sure what that one is, but it has a differently shaped glass in each…
oh wait, now I see it. An octopus. I should have seen it right away, but the flickering of the candlelight was making the arms move! ”
Isla put a hand on Jonto’s shoulder. “Jonto, this is exquisite workmanship.”