Other Oceans: Book Two of the Hook & Jill Saga by Andrea Jones

wondered; what had these barbarians put this young woman through?
    “Mister Hanover?”
    He blinked. Then he bowed. “Miss, I am at a disadvantage. I do not know your name, although you seem to be acquainted with mine.”
    “Yes. Will you take some wine?”
    “Of course. Thank you, Miss…?” He raised his eyebrows.
    Again, she ignored his question. “Mr. Smee?”
    “Aye, Madam, just a drop.” Smee stepped to her side and took over the serving. His movements were oddly gentle for a pirate, and a big pirate at that. He removed the decanter from her care as if it were too much of a burden for the lady’s hands.
    It was then the doctor saw her mark. He recoiled from the sight. What could be the meaning of this bloodstained hand? It was not an injury. His practiced eye determined that she used it easily and painlessly as she raised two shining goblets.
    The doctor watched, and his lips compressed as Smee covered the beauty’s fingers with his own, and poured the wine. Her left hand was unmarked. She offered one cup, the one in the crimson hand, to Smee, waiting until he had set down the decanter and grasped the glass before granting the other to the surgeon. Hanover accepted it, dropping his watch and allowing it to swing from its chain. She took none for herself.
    “Doctor Hanover. Won’t you be seated?”
    Mr. Smee pulled out a chair, looking meaningfully over his spectacles. Awakening with a start, Hanover realized that Smee’s goblet had disappeared. When he found the presence of mind to look for it, he noted an empty glass on the sideboard. Sitting down at last, the surgeon wondered how long he had been staring at the young woman, who had obviously been staring back at him.
    The flush crept up his face again. Over the course of this afternoon’s confinement he convinced himself he had been foolish; this young woman could not be as he imagined her during the stress of yesterday’s events. Now he knew he was correct in this assessment, but in the opposite direction. She was even more captivating than he at first believed.
    And bold. She stood unashamed in front of him, openly admiring his physical attributes, entertaining two men in a private room, and serving wine at a pirate captain’s table— as if it were all quite proper! Unheard of, in the surgeon’s experience.
    “Who are you?”
    She laughed. “So much for manners! Do I remind you of her so strongly, then?”
    Hanover stammered through his astonishment. “I’m sorry. Yes, you do— And yet you don’t.”
    “It’s a fine excuse for a gentleman to stare, anyway, comparing a pretty woman to a loved one.”
    He shook his head. “I would not call you pretty, Miss.”
    The woman affected to be offended, and her smile disappeared. “Oh, really? How blunt you are. You can’t be much of a favorite among the ladies.”
    Hanover shot a glance at Smee and became uncomfortable at the keenness of his regard. Standing with his arms crossed, the sailor exuded a protective, almost possessive attitude toward this female that caused Hanover to wonder again about her situation. He pressed a napkin to his lips to stifle a question, and then he lowered it. He had to ask. “You bait me, but you already know you are exquisite. Please, tell me about yourself.”
    She smiled in satisfaction. “Much better. And I regret to say that the captain neglected to inform me just how handsome and distinguished our ship’s surgeon is.” She looked him over once again, approvingly, then glanced over her shoulder into the shadows.
    Hanover winced. Ignoring Smee’s chortle, he recovered. “I thank you, Miss, for the compliment. I am not accustomed to young ladies who state their opinions so readily.”
    “How odd, Doctor, when you have stated yours without hesitation. But I pray you, don’t change for my sake!”
    Hanover inclined his head to her. “Very well, then, I take you at your word. You are incomparable! But how shall I address you? You are…?”
    “It is my turn