The sixteen-year-old did not have time for childish behaviour from a man older than her.
“Stop acting like a child, Maxwell!”
Sandra blinked, expecting disciplinary action that never came. Maxwell stopped resisting even though Hodari had taken his hands off the blonde. Noone had called him Maxwell in a long time. Not since he freed Hodari (and other slaves) from the plantation.
“Was that so hard?”
“You haven’t done anything.”
Sandra bunched her sleeves above her elbows and swept stray follicles of hair behind her ears.
“Could you bring me some fresh water, vinegar, salt, linen and alcohol?”
“Do as she says.” Maxwell nodded at Hodari.
Hodari left, ducking through the doorway.
“More alcohol? You shouldn’t have.” He grinned.
“Not for you. For me.”
His jaw dropped as he bit down on the cork and pulled it out of the bottle with an audible pop.
“Your whining is already driving me to unspeakable things.”
“You’re not the drinking type?”
The ex-maid wrenched up his nightshirt. Maxwell waggled his brows. Obviously mucking around.
“Disgusting.” She prodded the torn flesh.
“Ow!”
“Hold still.”
“Most women have delicate touches.”
“I am not like most women.”
“I can tell.”
“The sooner you obey me, the sooner Hodari can return to sodomising you. Do I make myself clear, Mister Bayne?” She laughed, feeling safer now that his First Mate was out of the room. Maxwell looked hurt.
“Transparently.”
Hodari knocked on the door frame upon his return. Sandra invited him in. He closed the door behind him.
“You two better not have gotten up to mischief while I was gone.”
The brunette refastened the ribbon in her hair and selected what she needed from the items that Hodari laid out on the foot of Maxwell’s bed. She smiled innocently.
“Close your eyes. This might hurt. I hope these are not your best linens.”
After sterilising her hands with alcohol, she tore up the linen, dampening it with vinegar before applying the contents of the now damp cloth liberally to rinse the wound.
“Could I trouble you for some scissors, twine and a sewing needle?”
“What for? Good god woman! Are you TRYING to kill me?” Maxwell gurgled.
“If I wanted you dead, I would have let that wretched Siren put her slimy hands all over you.” Sandra tutted. Hodari left and returned with the twine, scissors and needle cupped in one hand.
“You might want to cover his mouth, Hodari. The next part is…messy.”
The brunette pinched Maxwell’s gaping wound taut. Sliding the needle in and out as if weaving a tapestry. Human skin is less forgiving than fabric, but she was accustomed to the extra effort. Master Featherstone’s children sometimes required stitching after rough-housing in the garden.
“You…heartless bitch!”
His profanities were muffled by his First Mate’s hand. With his eyes watering, the blonde bit down on Hodari’s hand. Drawing blood.
I do not envy you in the slightest Hodari.
“I am nearly done. As soon as I am, I implore you both to rest. No nightcaps for either of you.”
I might be sixteen, but I am not stupid. Two healthy, consenting adults confined to the same cabin almost nightly. It is hard to accurately determine Hodari’s age, but Maxwell must be no more than twenty-two years of age. Sandra paused stitching to dab away his blood with the linen. If her hands got too slippery, she would have to slow down. She did not want to hurt him. Much.
She lost track of time, absorbed in the rhythm. In. Pause. Out. In. Pause. Out. Sandra tied off with a yawn. Maxwell had passed out from the shock of it all. Leant against Hodari. The sixteen year old washed and dried her hands before tucking the blonde man into his bed like a child.
“There. Done, at last. Goodnight.”
“Good…night.” Hodari responded.
Sandra left the equipment in a bowl on the bedside table – drip drying.
***
Something changed after that night. Maxwell rested in his room, as Sandra instructed. His condition improved drastically. In no small part as a result of the secret ingredient that the sixteen-year-old slipped into his broth.
“In the sunlight, mermaid tears turn to pearls. In the moonlight they gain healing properties.” Sandra remembered her father’s wise words.
Normally, Sandra served tea to men who fell ill. Maxwell was, in her opinion, too young for tea. Tea mellowed old, grizzled husbands. Furthermore, Maxwell was not the marrying type. He was the promiscuous sort. There was still much she did not know about him. He was the captain of an unnamed vessel. A merchant who knew how to wield a cutlass. He was orphaned at sea due to some traumatic event he did not fully disclose. Maxwell also had an unbreakable bond with his unorthodox First Mate. not that men with Hodari’s complexion were rare at sea, but they were seldomly First Mates.
Hodari and the brunette were his only guests. They were at his bedside the moment Maxwell regained the strength to throw back the covers, stumbled out of bed and dressed himself. Though he could not pour over maps and logs for hours without becoming so violently ill that whatever he swallowed came back up with a vengeance.
Since Maxwell showed improvement, Sandra buried her concern for the blonde and resumed her role. The young maid was competent, much to the Captain’s amusement. Folding, wax-sealing, and packing letters into bags for whenever the ship made landfall. Her efficiency, if she were born a man, would have made her a force equal to his own.
“Where did you say you were from again?”
“Fort Featherstone.”
“Oh? Are you a princess or member of their guard?”
On his adventures, the Captain saw stranger things than women wielding total authority.
“No, I am a mere maid. Do you really think a noble-born lady would know how to skin rabbits?”
“You sure know a lot about a lot of things.”
“If there is anything I need to know to look after my Master’s household, I will learn it.”
She carefully held the spoon of wax above the flickering flame; absorbed in her menial task. She was either an exceptional actress masking her fear of the crimes he intended to commit or an honest woman who resisted rummaging through his maps and logs. The problem was that either option was feasible for the young lady seated before him.
ns 172.69.6.124da2