The Captive and The Captain (Closed)

[queenclaire]

Josephine looked around the meager surroundings of the room she was being held in. The room itself consisted of a bed, which she was currently tied to, and a chair. She could only assume the room was used for holding someone for a short time. Perhaps the sick or treasonous, either way, she did not want to be there much longer.

The ropes were cutting into her wrist as she tried to move. The men had her tied down rather tightly as if she had some place to flee to. The ship she was on was on its way to the bottom of the ocean and she was not going to jump off this ship just to drown sometime later. She was content to lie here for a moment and pray that she was not going to fall victim to everyone on the ship. So far, they had been civil, but she had not been on the ship that long. They told her to be quiet until the captain had decided what to do with her. She could only hope the captain would be a gentleman like the captain of the last ship she was on.

Josephine was off to visit her father, whom was off at war with the colonials. He was a high ranking officer as well as a nobleman back in England. She had the respect of the last captain, him having a solid fear of her father. She did not think this captain would feel the same way.

Her vibrant blue eyes darted around the room, looking for something to focus on, too keep her mind at ease. The longer she waited, the more she feared for her life. She swallowed hard as closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. She was still young, she was only 19 years old. She should have been married off by now, but not many people wanted to deal with a stubborn redhead with a very protective father. She was his only daughter and he wanted only the best for her.

She opened her eyes again as the ship creaked as it sailed to where ever it was headed. She waited for whatever fate she was going to be handed.

 

[tcost]

The Captain.

Amos Fairbanks was the Captain of the _Wood Nymph_. He owned it outright, having paid off the bank after a recent voyage. He was a successful man, but he took huge risks, sailing back and forth across the Atlantic in all kinds of weather, running gunpowder to the rebels. Almost none of the stuff was manufactured in America -- which would be a good way to make another sort of investment.

He'd just visited some of the wounded lads in the hold, where they could lay in hammocks and just one hale sailor was needed to keep watch on them. The lifeboat with the survivors from the other ship had been lost to sight over the horizon, he hoped, though he knew their chances were poor, that they would make it safely back to shore. Their captain had been mad to attack the _Nymph-.

But there had been one more prisoner, rescued along with her trunk of clothes, who had been left in his own cabin, that being the most comfortable place to put her. His head wasn't pounding as much now, but his arm still felt as if he had been swinging his sword for hours when it had been no more than thirty minutes of actual fighting, a very long time for that kind of battle with such a small number of combatants. The truth was that an awful lot of men on both sides had been killed, and now he was going to have to run on a skeleton crew to get back home again. Maybe they could make port in the Bahamas and pick up an extra sailor or two, but the British held the Bahamas; it wasn't worth the risk.

At least the weather was fair. At this point, he'd take any blessings he could get.

He unlocked the door, one of the few locks to be found anywhere on the _Wood Nymph_, and went inside, to have his first look at his new captive. Her trunk was elsewhere, it might be best to keep that information to himself for the moment.

Amos Fairbanks was a sturdy man in his late twenties. Broad across the shoulder, his captain's coat was meant to fit a man of his proportions, snug at the waist and, in the front, showing the muscular thighs, which were encased in black trousers, his feet booted. There was a minimum of white lace at collar and cuffs, it annoyed him. He had blue eyes and light brown hair, which was cut a bit long; there was no barber among the crew. He was cleanshaven, though, and he had a square jaw.

"Sorry if I've kept you waiting, miss. We had a burial at sea to attend to. But," he said, closing the door behind him, "we have plenty of time now. Have you been hurt?"

 

[queenclaire]

Josephine heard the door open, she looked over to see who was entering the locked room. She thought being bound and put in a locked room was a bit much for a captive that was an unarmed female, but then again, it was her ship. Perhaps this was how they treated everyone.

She watched a man, she figured was the captain, walk into the room. She watched him carefully and silently, she it was not as if she had been handled with care since they brought her aboard this ship. She did not trust that that sort of treatment was over with. She furrowed her brow as he spoke. She did not answer at first, she was angrily glaring at the handsome man before her. She hated herself for even letting the thought that he handsome enter her mind.

“No, I have not been injured,” Joesphine said softly, “other than the ropes biting into my wrist.” She looked around for a moment and then added, “Seems a bit much to tie me up and lock the door. It is not like I am a threat.” She looked at the man, “I presume you are the captain of this vessel. What of Captain Watson and his men that survived? What did you do with them?” She hoped they were safe, but did not think they were on this ship. It was not fair she was the only one taken captive. She did not want to be a prisoner, but it was better than drowning. She looked at the man with her intense blue eyes awaiting an answer from him.

 

[tcost]

The Captain.

Amos Fairbanks listened with some patience as his captive made her complaint, which was reasonable enough, for the most part. When she mentioned Captain Watson, his eyes tightened up for a moment, but his expression remained otherwise benign.

"I suppose that I should have expected you to be upset," he said after a moment. "But bear in mind that it was your Captain Watson who attacked my ship, and not the other way around. Watson had lost a lot of blood, and I'm not sure whether he will last long enough for his crewmen to get him back to shore, but he was put on one of the rowboats, with seven of his surviving men, and I watched them head for the land. There were two rowboats, and I give each of them a little bit better than 50/50 chance to make it to France, not quite so good if they go north and try to make landfall in England. But they're all in the hands now of God; from here on, mere mortals have failed."

He walked over and began to untie her wrists, watching to make sure that she didn't try anything foolish like trying to grab his sword or dagger. "We have some lotion which ought to help this. You have such soft skin, it's no wonder the ropes bit you. But the lotion ought to fix you up within a couple of days; I've seen much worse than this. The lotion was developed for victims of the lash."

Once her hands were free, he took a seat, not right beside her, but close enough so they could speak normally. "You may not have realized it, but we're on an American ship. If I turned back to try to get you safely to land, even in France, I would be putting my entire ship and crew at deadly peril. Worse, I'd be putting my cargo at peril, as it's essential to the war effort."

He gestured, rather vaguely actually, in the general direction of the prow. "So, my lady, you're about to make a transatlantic journey. From the other side, we can see about getting you passage back home to England again, or at least to an English possession."

She was furious, and that reaction really wasn't out of proportion to her circumstances. Partly it was that red hair, and the fire in her eyes that made her so attractive. It might not have occurred to this woman that she was a prize of war, and that, as captain and the law on his own vessel, it was completely legal for him to take her if he pleased. And he had no doubt that it would please him very much to take her.

 

[queenclaire]

Josephine hung her head when she heard of Captain Watson’s whereabouts. She prayed that they would make it to shore without any more loses. They were a good crew and treated her with the utmost respect. Her heart ached for them, even if they started the fight, it was not a fate for anyone.

She was happy to be free of the ropes as the captain sat down on the bed near her and continued to speak. Not only was his uncomfortably close for her comfort, he kept relaying terrible news to her. She felt as if her whole world was falling apart. She was not pleased with the fact she was on an American ship. She understood completely why they could not turn back, but it also put in her in danger. She was now stuck on a ship with a captain and crew she did not know and they did not know who she was. She could not hide how displeased she was with this predicament.

Drawing in a deep breath, Josephine looked to the captain of the ship. She kept her eyes locked on his, not wanting them to linger on the other parts of him. She tightened a fist, keeping herself focused on hating him at the moment. “Sir,” she began rather curtly, “I should probably thank you for the rescue, but as it is you are headed into territory that would be dangerous for me. I could find my father once there if I was in friendly territory. I can only assume being on the side you are on, you would not my father , General Richards. And I suppose you would not know he is a Duke as well. So, it would be wise for me to return to him in...excellent condition.” She stressed the word excellent.

She stood up, straightening her dress a bit. She was of an average height, with a perfect hourglass figure that was perfectly proportioned. She looked at the captain again, “I am Josephine Richards and you are?”

 

[tcost]

The Captain.

Amos waited until the poor girl wound down for a moment, understanding that she needed to spew out some of the emotional poison she must have soaked up during the battle and in the time since. He didn't let that bother him. He was in fact mildly amused at the way she stood up to formally introduce herself, but he didn't show it -- ritual and ceremony were developed, after all, partly as a means to help people get through disagreeable circumstances such as trials and funerals. It this girl could take some comfort from such formalities, he would cooperate with her.

Besides, it was a bit of fun to act so grand without feeling ostentatious.

"And I am Amos Fairbanks, My Lady, and I do have the honor to be the Captain of the Wood Nymph. We are a merchant vessel, and we are bound for Charleston. If we have fair weather, we should be there in about nineteen days. If not, it could take longer."

He gave her a little bow as he gave her his name, taking her hand in his almost daintily. "And you would be surprised yourself, I daresay, to know that I do know of your father. His opposition in the House of Lords to the Intolerable Acts has won him many friends in the colonies, and I understand that he distinguished himself against the French in the final campaign of the Seven Years' War. It is an honor to meet the daughter of the third Duke of Halifax."

Amos knew perfectly well that General Richards was the fourth Duke of Halifax, not the third. But if this beautiful young woman were trying to pass herself off as his daughter, she might well not know it -- but if she was the genuine article, she would surely correct him instantly.

He rather hoped that she didn't know, that she was not who she claimed she was. In that case she would be a rogue herself, and no lady, and there was no reason in the world, apart from it being rather evil, not to take her body for his pleasures.

On the other hand, she was perfectly polished and mannered. Her accent was right for having grown up in Halifax. She knew what a noblewoman acted like, and she had had the prosperity to eat well and keep that perfect hourglass figure. No, the more he thought about it, the more likely it was that Josephine Richards was telling him the truth.

 

[queenclaire]

Josephine was rather shocked when Captain Amos Fairbanks took her hand and bowed to her. She would have thought men of the sea would have not an ounce of manners. But he did keep himself clean shaven and his clothes were not tattered, so she should not be as surprised.

She tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow curiously as he said he knew of her father. She was impressed as he spouted off with how well he knew of her father. She smirked at him when he made a mistake. She would not be too hard on him, he was after all not an ally.

“Fourth, Captain Fairbanks,” she corrected him, “He is the Fourth Duke of Halifax. And yes, I am surprised you know of my father.” She looked him over for a brief second and then turned to looked another way. She had to focus on something other than him. He was unnerving for one thing. His eyes were penetrating, as if they were trying to see through her. He seemed as if he could kill rather easily as well. She did not want to be too close to him. Secondly, he was attractive. He was not the old sea captain she was used to seeing on ships. And sadly, his eyes were one of the things that made him attractive and made her weary of him.

“Nineteen days, you said?” She wanted to change the subject for a moment as she looked back at him briefly over her shoulder as she pretended to look around the room. She had had enough time to see the room already while she was tied up and left to wait. It was not much to look at. She had hoped they were not heading so far from where her father was, last she heard. Unfortunately, that was not her luck.

 

[tcost]

The Captain.

"Nineteen days, if we have fair weather. The mid-Atlantic is deservingly notorious for its storms. Since we are headed for the southern colonies, any storms should not be so cold as they might be at this latitude, but they could be just as dangerous. So I would not count too much on making our destination that quickly."

He stood up, and walked over to a low, built-in cabinet, which he unlocked with a key, and from which he withdrew a small, corked jug, along with a roll of bandages and some shears. Setting this stuff on the floor for the moment, he locked up the cabinet again, and then picked up the jug, the shears, and the bandage roll, and came back over to sit down on the edge of the bed again.

"Let me have a look at your forearms, please, my Lady. I have something here that should reduce the irritation, and bandaging to help it heal. And, by the way, I knew that your father was the fourth Duke. I just wanted to make sure that you were who you said you were, and I'm quite glad to see that you are."

Well, that was a fib, but it was only polite. If she hadn't been so highborn, they might have more interesting things to do than tending to her wounds.

Then again, highborn or otherwise, who was to say that they might not still have the same things to do? People would know that she had been a prisoner, and many would assume that she had been deflowered. Just as well that she would be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb.

 

[queenclaire]

Josephine felt some of her hope leave as Captain Fairbanks stated a quick arrival was not something she could really count on. The longer she was in the ship the worse her odds would get. These were enemies of her land and she was a prisoner or war. The odds were not in her favor.

She watched the captain as he moved to a locked cabinet. With his back to her, she could watch him now. She shook her head and mentally kicked herself for even wanting to look at him. She was a prisoner here and she was thinking her captor was handsome. God help her, she was so screwed up.

She turned toward a small mirror hanging on the wall. She grimaced as she looked herself. Her hair was disheveled, only half of it still remained in its place. She reached back and let the rest of it down. She really did not care if it was not appropriate at the moment or not. She ran her fingers through it to smooth it out. Her hair was naturally wavy and did not do well in humid weather.

Josephine turned as Captain Fairbanks spoke. She blinked for a moment, almost wanting to refuse the help. She would be perfectly fine without the help. She moved and sat down on the bed by him, holding out her arms. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “Why are you glad that I am who I am? Wouldn’t it be easier if I was nobody important? Then I could disappear at sea and not be a burden to you and your men. I am sure that would be a much better situation for you.”

 

[tcost]

The Captain.

The Captain smiled when he saw that his prisoner had taken her hair down. She was even prettier this way. If she felt less uncomfortable about her appearance, it might help her relax after her ordeal.

He sat back, though, after her latest question. "My Lady, I am not a murderer. After your captain saw fit to take an action that slaughtered so many of my crew, we have ample food and water for the voyage home. I could not, and will not, abandon you just because it might be convenient. Do you take me for some sort of pirate?"

Both of his own eyebrows went up now. "If I were a pirate captain, do you seriously think that I'd be sitting here, offering to bandage you up?" He shook his head. "If I did not respect your father, and for that matter you personally, I could rely on the law of the sea. By rights, My Lady, you are mine by right of conquest."

He stopped for a moment, and tilted his head slightly to one side. "Surely, you would rather that I treated you as a lady, wouldn't you? Because if you would rather be treated as a spoil of war, I could do that, too. But I have no intention of doing that."

It might not hurt any to remind her of the alternatives, though.

 

[queenclaire]

“I don’t take you for much of anything, sir,” Josephine stated with a shrug of her petite shoulders, watching him carefully. Though he looked quite handsome with his current expression and head tilted to the side, he had a few rather good points. And it was not as if he was treating her severely. He was showing her some kindness and it would have done a lot to put her at ease if she was not drawn to him.

“I understand quite well the law of the sea and realize the situation I am in. So forgive me if I do not seem overjoyed with this predicament.” She sighed softly, “But yes, I would rather be treated as a lady than a prize.”

She sat for a moment, looking off to her side. She did not want to look at him, every time she did she found herself staring. Why could he have not been some old salt? Though, if he had been, he might not have the manners he did with her. She had never felt so weak in someone’s presence. She had always prided herself in being strong. She was going to have to be on guard even more now. She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment before looking back at him. She hated to be this close to someone that had every right to do whatever he wanted with her. She suddenly felt aware of every moment she made.

 

[tcost]

The Captain.

She was looking at him again, good. While he was conscious of her stare, he disliked it more when she wouldn't look at him. This had gotten so complicated in a very short time, really.

"Now, this time you have me, my lady. If you did prefer to be treated as a prize, I -might- be in a much better situation. But it would be an even worse moral quandry for me, so I should be pleased not to be in it, at least no more than I already am."

The way she stared at him made him feel just a bit reprehensible. Here she was, in his power, and he was suggesting, if in the most decorous way, that he might abuse that power -- that the two of them, in fact, might both be glad if he did.

Damnation, though, she was beautiful, and clearly intelligent -- and, worst of all, with her hair down in particular, extremely sexually appealing. His captain's clothes had entirely too tight a set of pants, and if she looked in the wrong direction she would become well aware of just how appealing she was to him.

"Here, let me put this lotion on your arm. The sooner it starts working, the better, you know, my lady."

 

[queenclaire]

Josephine’s eyes grew wide as Captain Fairbanks spoke. She was actually wondering if she heard him right. She had never been spoken to in such a way. At least by a sober man, though she could not be all that sure he was sober, even if he seemed it. “Sir,” she snapped with a stunned look, “I did say would rather be treated like a lady, which means you need to hold your tongue as well.” She gave him a piercing gaze, “Unless you speak to all ladies you hold on your vessel in such a way. In that case, I would rather take my chances with the sharks.” And though she was furious, at the same time she was intrigued. The idea of being taken by him was exciting as well as frightening, but she did not want him to know that.

She held out her arms as he asked with an unreadable look. She did not want to scar any, but she did not know how she would take him touching her. She looked down, trying to think of anything, but the captain before her. She glanced over and noticed the bulge in his pants. She drew in a quick breath and glanced elsewhere. She felt flushed suddenly and the heat rising to her chest. It was something she could not hide with the outfit she was wearing. She cursed herself for even looking at him and being attracted to him. She just wished he would hurry and leave her alone. She needed space. Lots of space from him. Her eyes rested on his face again, hoping that he just thought she was flushed from her fury because of his comment.

 

[tcost]

The Captain.

"Truthfully, my lady, I have never had a woman of any sort, let alone a lady like you, here before. Nor have I had any conversation remotely like this with any other woman in my life. This is a unique situation for me, and, I suspect strongly, for you as well." He had to smile at her fury; he really shouldn't provoke her so, it was inconsiderate -- but she was so tempting, on so many different levels.

He poured out some lotion onto one palm, and applied the soothing liquid to the nastiest spot on her bare skin. As he went about this, she looked in exactly the wrong place, and blushed furiously in an entirely revealing way. He grinned at that, and applied a little more lotion.

"I'm sorry, I really am, my lady," he said, only with difficulty restraining outright laughter. "I don't want to be rude, it serves no purpose and only makes you feel worse, and I have no wish at all to make you feel any worse than you already must, in such a situation. But to tell you what you might not already know -- you do not seem to have a talent for guile, my lady. Either that, or you have a gift so pure that you have me fooled completely. Because, right now, I have the feeling that I can read you like a book."

He brought out the role of bandages, and began to wrap the arm. "And, only partly because of that, I don't really believe that you'd rather take your chances with the sharks. Nor even with my crew. My lady, you clearly are not shocked. That's not the word for your reaction. You aren't even dismayed."

Never in a million years would she admit it, though.

 

[queenclaire]

Josephine listened to Captain Fairbanks and rolled her eyes slightly as spoke to her honestly. Of course, he had never had a conversation with a lady like this before. He had to wait till he was with a noblewoman to do so. She narrowed her eyes on him with furrowed brow as he stated it was a unique situation for them both. How dare he presume anything on her behalf!

She looked away as he grinned and applied the medicine to her arms. His grin, as twisted as it was, was disarming. She was trying to keep her anger riled. She needed it to keep any other thoughts or feelings hidden deep inside. It was hard enough with his hands on her at the moment. He was being quite gentle and considering the situation, it was not what she expected.

Josephine’s eyes shot back to Captain Fairbanks as he began to speak about her again. He really seemed to think he knew just how she felt. How arrogant of him. It was like he was trying to piss her off. She was appalled and amused at the same time. He was right about it being a unique situation.

“Oh really? And just what word would you use to describe how I am feeling?” Josephine kicked herself mentally for even asking that question. It would be best to drop the whole subject and let him finish wrapping her arms and for him to leave. If curiosity killed the cat, she was damned. “Please tell me how I am feeling since you are such an expert,” she said rather condescendingly with a smirk playing on her lips.

 

[tcost]

The Captain.

Amos finished with the first bandage, and set about putting the lotion on her other arm, which was not nearly as badly damaged. He took his time about this just the same, enjoying the feeling of his fingertips on her bare skin.

He arched an eyebrow. "My lady, if I answered you honestly this time I would deserve to be slapped. We both know what has caused you to blush so completely and brightly. It's a physical reaction that you are feeling, just as I am feeling one of my own, to put it delicately."

Holding her forearm in one hand, he slid his fingertips further up and down that part of her arm than he needed to in order to treat the wound. "Are you going to tell me that you aren't enjoying even this innocent a level of skin-to-skin contact? That you wouldn't enjoy more?"

He let go of her then, for just long enough to begin to wrap the bandage around her arm as he had done with the other. "You are clearly an intelligent woman, one of the most intelligent I've ever had the chance to interact with, but you may not have thought of this yet. You and I are going to be on this ship together for about three weeks and maybe longer. You may have more willpower than I do, but I know for sure that I'm going to be pretty much constantly aware of the fact that you are here, and that I want you."

He snipped off the bandage roll with the shears, and broke the physical contact. "Are you going to claim that it shocks you that I admit that? Or that, this being true, that I would speak of it to a lady? Seriously, you're too smart to buy that yourself. And you know that you have just given me really very strong evidence that you are feeling exactly the same attraction to me."

He stretched out his hand to her, with only the slightest hope that she would take it. "Now, I can imagine that you might feel, as a lady, that despite whatever you might be feeling, that you ought to be rejecting and repudiating any least suggestion of such unladylike appetites, even while as a rational being you know that the entire animal kingdom is built with the same imperative. So, maybe I should let you maintain your position that you are not feeling the heat here when you clearly are, just to be polite. Courtesy is important, especially in situations like this one when circumstances make things difficult."

Then he scooted maybe an inch closer to her, along the side of the bed. "Or, on the other hand, maybe I should let you go on cleaving to virtue, and make the choices for you. Not about what to order for you at a fine restaurant, nor which horse you should ride, but about acting on the feelings that both of us are having."

His smile grew just a bit broader as he gestured toward himself, and presented her with a choice he wasn't really making clear to her, and on purpose. "So, would you rather we just continue as we have been, and take my hand; or would you rather I stood up, and did something you would tell me not to do, were I to ask your permission?"

The choice was really to reject both alternatives, because both really implied permission for him to proceed, and, yes, she was clever enough to see that. But she might choose to take one alternative as better than the other, and either one would be all that he would need. He knew better that to think that he could baffle her with bullshit, but just to get her to talk about rejecting both choices would be more than enough for Amos now. No matter what she said or did, the elephant was here in his cabin with them now.

 

[queenclaire]

The contact on the skin, Josephine had to admit to herself, was rather nice. But the fact that he knew that she liked it made her mad. She had done her best in life to ward off potential suitors that she did not have an attraction to with her ability to remain stoic no matter what they tried with her. This captain was tearing down all her protective walls in a matter of minutes. She was in uncharted territory with no place to run. Literally.

She narrowed her eyes on him as he continued to talk, trying to, as she could only assume, to wear her down. She grew uncomfortable when he moved closer to her on the bed. She drew in a deep breath knowing she could not hide the fact, as he couldn’t either, there was an attraction between them. She could feel the heat radiating from her chest as thought about what he was suggesting. Both of what he suggested would give him permission to do something to her. Both seemed like good ideas at the moment.

“Are you drunk?” Josephine looked at him for a moment and then smiled as she held up a finger, “Or do you think I am daft? What you are suggesting, on both hands, is that I let you have your way.” She stood from the bed, to get some distance from him. She needed to step away from him before she did something she would regret. She looked back at him, once she was away, “Clearly, you have a gift of discourse. I am sure it serves you well with other captains and the whores in taverns.” She turned and started to pace a bit. “Whether I am attracted to you or not does not matter because I don’t know you,” she said looking at him, “and the fact I am, as you so kindly put it, a spoil of war would make me less likely to give in to such urges.”

Now she was talking in riddles. She admitted there was an attraction, no need to deny it now. He knew she was attracted to him and what he spoke of was seemly exciting to her. But she was trying to avoiding the whole conversation and made a slight slip. She admitted she could actually give in to the urges when she state it would make her less likely instead of saying she would never give in to the urges.
She knew she had made the mistake as well. She paused her walking as she realized it. She had to hope he had not caught it and she continued to pace.

She rested a cool hand on her chest for a moment trying to think of something other than the man that had gotten her so worked up. At least he was at a distance, which made it easier to think clearly. She was quickly losing her resolve to fight him off. He had barely been near her and she started to lose it. No one had ever tempted her so and he the enemy at that. She looked over at him as she realized her biggest fear was not what he would do to her, but that she may more than enjoy it. She feared she may not want it to end.

She turned to him and put her hands on her hips, “I will not be used like a common whore, Captain Fairbanks, no matter if I am a spoil of war or a guest on a ship.” She decided to make a stand, a weak one, but a stand none the less. She did not say no to him completely, but she did tell him she would not be used as he had been suggesting. It may have not been a smart move. It was his ship and it was law.

 

[tcost]

The Captain.

Amos listened to this beautiful woman go on with no shortage of patience. He knew that he would remember this meeting for some time, likely for the rest of his life. He was enjoying the back and forth between them tremendously, and why should he hide it?

"Sooner or later, you're going to stop calling me Captain Fairbanks and call me Amos. I'm sure that that's too familiar for you now, my lady, but in time you may decide to relax. I would like to be on friendlier terms with you."

He rose from his seat on the edge of the bed. "I haven't had anything to drink, but maybe it would be easier for both of us if I offered you something to drink yourself? Not so much that I could take advantage of you. No -- I want you to make your decision while completely sober and rational."

He went over to a cabinet, and set out two nicely-fashioned glasses. Nothing with a long stem, these were broad and stout instead, more practical on a ship. He filled both with an amber liquid, and said, "I hope that you enjoy cognac?"

Walking over to her, he addressed another of her questions. "I would never use you as a common whore, my lady. Just to start with, there is nothing common about you. Nor is there anything of the whore about you, either. But you are very much a woman, and you make me feel very much a man. If nothing else, I have to appreciate that."

He offered her her choice of the two glasses.

 

[queenclaire]

Calling him Amos instead of Captain Fairbanks seemed alien to Josephine. She did want to be that comfortable around him. Yet, a part of her wondered what it would be like to hear her name on his lips. She had to be going mad. She felt as if she was losing any control she had over a man she barely just met. What was happening to her?

She watched him silently as he poured them a drink. She actually felt she could use one, perhaps it would give some clarity as she was not thinking straight to begin with. She watched him approach her with the glasses as he spoke. She sighed softly and took one of the glasses and looked down at it, “Captain Fairbanks, you assume quite a lot.” She looked back up at him and took a sip of the drink. “Like me calling you, Amos.”

Josephine took another sip, hoping it would calm her some. He was too close again. She turned and moved to sit on the bed again. She was unsteady on her feet around him. She kept her eyes on her glass, not wanting to look at him. The moment she said his name it felt right, even though it should not. She did not want it to, though. She wanted to keep him at a distance. She did not want to become one of his conquests. She did not want that from anyone. She wanted to be more than that, as any lady would. She wanted to be someone’s reason for breathing.

“Thank you for the drink,” she said softly as she took another sip, not looking at him. She brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen beside her cheek. She glanced at him for a second.

 

[tcost]

The Captain.

"It isn't assuming -too- much if you are, in fact, calling me Amos now," he returned, following her over to sit down next to her, not too close but not too far either, on the edge of the bed. "Clearly, we could both use a drink. You did look somewhat unsteady on your feet there, just now -- you haven't been hurt more than I realize, have you?"

Despite the serious nature of his question, he couldn't help but smile when she brushed the lock of her hair back and away from her face. Then, he looked down himself. "You know, you're headier than the cognac, Josephine. If I may call you Josephine. I request that permission."

He looked back up at her, hopefully, now.

 

[queenclaire]

Josephine shook her head at his question about her being hurt. “I am fine. I was just…” she paused not sure she should say anymore. Then again, she could not seem to hide anything from him. Maybe she was easily readable like he had stated. “Dizzy,” she finally added honestly, “It’s is nothing to concern yourself over, Captain Fairbanks.” She almost called him Amos, but could not push herself to do it yet. Even if it felt natural, it did not seem appropriate. She was still clinging to keeping all things formal and not intimate.

She was very aware of how close he had sat next to her. He kept a distance, but was still closer than most men would put themselves. She looked the other way as he said she was headier than the cognac, but when he said her name, a shiver went up her spine. She looked back over at him as he asked if he could call her Josephine. She honestly did not know what to say. She blinked as emotions played over her features. She wanted to say no because she liked it all too much. And that was the same reason she wanted to say yes. She stared at him for a moment, looking at his hopeful look. She nodded slightly, “You may call me Josephine, but I am not trying to be.” In fact she was trying her best to keep him at a distance and not draw him nearer.

 

[tcost]

The Captain.

"I realize that -- in fact, that's part of the reason that you are so appealing," the Captain told her. "But, here, this talk may not be helping. I suggest that we discuss a few practical matters while we enjoy the brandy."

"First of all is the matter of your accommodations while we are on this voyage. You are in the nicest cabin on the ship, which is my own, the Captain's Cabin. My crewmen thought that you ought to have the best, and I agree with them. However, I cannot forfeit my own cabin to you without undermining my own standing with my men."

He used a motion of his head to indicate the bed. "So, we can do this one of two ways. You are a lady, you are going to sleep in the bed. Either I will sleep on the floor, or I will sleep in the bed with you. Obviously, I will not sleep with you unless we will be sharing the bed for other purposes anyway."

He shook his head and sighed. "Really, Josephine -- thank you for letting me call you Josephine -- this is one of the most awkward conversations I've ever had in my life." He made a vague gesture with the hand holding the half-empty glass of cognac. "It's the strangest and most interesting conversation I've ever had, too. You do all sorts of strange things to me. While you, being so highborn and well-bred, are probably impervious to all of this strangeness and awkwardness, aren't you? Or does it not really work the way it's supposed to, your aristocratic training?"

 

[queenclaire]

Josephine was a bit shocked by what he admitted. She had never heard such a thing. It usually worked on all people. No one wanted to be near a rather off putting female that did not want the advances of most men trying to impress her. But Amos Fairbanks was a creature entirely. He seemed to enjoy it and it did not detour him at all. It actually made her drop her defenses and want to see what he was all about, even if it was wrong.

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow as he spoke of the sleeping arrangements. While she understood entirely what he meant, at the same time she did not want it to seem she was sleeping with the captain. They would probably assume it anyway, but she would know the truth. She nodded and smirked slightly, “I hate to take your bed for the remainder of the voyage.”

Every time he said her name, Josephine could feel the walls crumbling around her and she was furiously trying to rebuild them before the next assault. She took a rather large gulp of the alcohol, hoping to clear her mind. She watched him as he spoke. Something about him drew her to him and she wished she knew what it was. She shook her head, “I am human, sir. This is strange and awkward for me as well. I don’t think the fact I am an aristocrat changes that.” She looked at her glass and swirled the liquid in it, “I have just learned to hide how I feel. It is rare people actually care how you feel in high society, it is just easier to pretend you feel…nothing. Any emotion other than contentment is frowned upon.” She took a drink and then looked at him, “I tend to piss a lot of people off.” She smiled slightly and looked down at her glass again. “I am not used to someone actually wanting to talk to me after that.”

 

[tcost]

The Captain.

"There's a lot more to you than just the haughty facade, and I doubt -- I doubt it a lot -- that I'm the only person who can see that. But in society, everyone is locked, or at least tethered, into their roles and it requires risk and exertion, of a sort, to move beyond that. People will still do it, but not without a strong motivation."

He took another sip of his cognac, but didn't take the time that the beverage deserved to swirl it around and savor it, even though he had served up the finest stuff he had for this occasion. He shifted the drink to his other hand, thus freeing up the hand closest to Josephine.

"There are other acceptable emotions, too, though. Disdain, mild amusement, reproof. Things of that nature. Nothing too.. strenuous. Nothing which would alter the expected course of any conversation or other interaction. Nothing abnormal."

He sat up a little straighter now, looked at her quite directly again, and only partly because he did like looking into her blue eyes. "Well, we find ourselves in a decidedly abnormal situation here, don't we? So we're off the beaten path and into new territory. In order to find the best way forward, we have to explore, and maybe even grope around a little in the dark, to feel our way."

He smiled a little wryly. "My comparison is starting to get a little tortured, I suppose. But it does describe why we're having this peculiar conversation. Only rarely, before this meeting, have I had the occasion to interact with high society, and I have more reason to care about how people feel. As the captain of the _Wood Nymph_, I need to keep aware of how my sailors are feeling, in order to keep the ship running smoothly. Lives can depend on how people feel."

He shifted so as to face her a little more now, and he moved his free hand closer to her. "But that's a different thing than how I feel about you, and about how you feel, Josephine. I want you to relax, I want you to feel safe, I want you to feel unworried about what is going to happen to you after this ordeal. I want you to be happy, I want you to be at your ease around me. I also want you to feel tense around me in an entirely different way."

That prompted another sort of smile. "I want very much for you to take my bed for the remainder of the voyage."

 

[queenclaire]

Josephine remained quiet as Amos spoke. She did not want to be rude and interrupt him to argue whatever she felt she needed to detest as the moment. The fact was, the more he spoke, she more she relaxed. She realized that no one had ever really taken the time to actually talk to her after she had tried pushed them away. She wondered if he actually meant what he was saying and really cared about what he claimed he did. Or if he was just a great actor and so practiced at this, it was second nature to lie so believingly.

She looked at him curiously as he spoke about what he wanted her to feel. How could she not be worried about what will happen after all this. She was pretty much damned the moment she was brought on this ship. Any hopes of continuing on the life she had was almost hopeless. As for the tense part, she felt that already. She could not trust herself to not act on it either. If only he did not look like he did, it would be so much easier to keep pushing him away.

“Thank you,” Josephine replied and then added, “I will feel almost guilty about you sleeping on the dreadful floor.” She gave him an amused smile. “As for being at ease around you,” she continued, “I don’t think I will ever be at ease around you.” She had never been around someone that made her feel so many different things at once. It was almost maddening. “To be honest, you have me bewildered. I am not sure what to do or say anymore. I am completely and utterly defenseless. I don’t like feeling this way. I have always been able to control a situation, to keep any man or suitor at bay. Why are you so different?”