A Pirate's Ransom (2 page)

With rapid breath, I stood in the center of the cabin, searching for a place to hide. The blast of cannon fire made me jump, but the wood-shattering sound that vibrated to the core of the ship made the knot in my stomach rise to my throat. The numbing silence that followed hummed in my ears. There was no more cannon fire and no subsequent gunshots, only the sound of my heart hammering as I listened for some clue of what was going on above, but the only sound was that of the waves lapping against the side of the ship and the muted voices in conversation rumbling above me. The hair rose on the back of my neck at the frightening realization that we had indeed been captured by pirates. And for the first time since my mother’s death, I fell to my knees and with tears streaming down my cheeks, I prayed.

The sound of the splintering wood of doors being blown open was accompanied by heavy footfalls along the passageway toward my cabin.

“Take yer filthy hands off me, ye vermin.” Mary’s scream was followed by the raunchy laughter of several men.

My heart hammered and my legs trembled in my effort to rise to my feet, yet I was determined to face the approaching threat with the dignity of my station. Holding my breath, my eyes fixed to the door latch, I waited.

“It be locked, same as the others,” a rough male voice shouted.

“Blast it off its hinges. You heard the Captain’s orders.” The deafening sound of a pistol shot and splintering wood as a ball struck the lock nearly sent me to my knees.

The smell of gunpowder burned my nostrils and brought tears to my eyes. I struggled to contain my increasing fears but remained frozen in the center of my cabin, shaking and suddenly feeling in desperate need of a chamber pot as the door, now with the lock blown apart, slowly swung inward.

“Well, well, wot ‘ave we ‘ere?” the rugged and scruffy man asked as he scanned me up and down. His hungry stare made me feel as if I stood naked before him, and heat burned my cheeks.

Stepping into my cabin, he was followed closely by another pirate, who dragged Mary along with him, despite the fact that she was kicking and punching.

“You best not be layin’ a ‘and on her!” Mary screamed.

“It’s quite all right, Mary.” Despite my knocking knees, I managed to hold myself tall and prayed they did not hear my heart thundering.

“And who might ye be?” the scruffy one asked.

“That there be Lady Catherine Nettleton, Countess of Dorset, she be, on her way to London to be wed to his Grace, the Duke of Devonshire,” Mary said, a hint of pride in her voice.

My heart sank. Her outburst had ruined any hope we may have had of duping the pirates.

“Well, well, yer Ladyship. Our Captain requests the honor of yer presence aboard our fine vessel,” Scruffy said, taking a step closer.

I suddenly recalled the pistol in my hand, and with shaking limbs, I raised it and pointed it directly at his chest. Upon seeing the firearm, he raised his hands, not above his head, but before him as if to catch a ball tossed to him by a child.

“Shoot him, Miss,” Mary squawked, thrashing wildly despite her captor’s attempts to keep her still.

“Now yer Ladyship, there be no need to be shootin’ no one.” Scruffy gave a gap-toothed grin.

A shiver of revulsion ran down my spine and my already queasy stomach curdled when I got a whiff of him.

“If you take one step further, I swear I shall shoot you.”

“Aye, I be certain that be yer intent,” he responded. Yet, my lack of knowledge of the use of a firearm must have been blatantly apparent to him as he continued, “But that pistol ye be wavin’ be useless without a flint.” Reaching up, he took the pistol from my shaking hands with ease.

“There now, yer Ladyship, as I be sayin’ ... the Captain he be a’waitin’.” Grabbing my upper arm, he yanked me toward the door. “An’ the Captain, he ‘ates to be kept waitin’,” he said and pulled me along the passageway, then dragged me up to the main deck.

The bright sun blinded me and, raising my hand to shade my eyes, I saw the entire crew had been assembled, my father among them, lined up and being held at gunpoint by a band of shaggy and ragged men. The beautiful sails of our tiny ship had been shredded and the main mast lay broken and hanging over the side, its tip plunging into the water. Scruffy shoved me into the line with the crew, and I felt a small measure of comfort to find Mary standing beside me.

“Miss,” she whimpered, “I fear for our lives.”

I took her trembling hand in mine. “Don’t worry, Mary. There is nothing aboard this ship of any value to these men. I feel certain they will leave us in peace.”
Was I trying to convince her, or myself?

“Nay, yer Ladyship, that’s where ye be mistaken,’” Scruffy said as a sinister smile spread slowly across his thin lips.

I gasped for breath. My lungs burned as if I were drowning. His gaze raked over me from head to toe, making me feel violated and dirty without even a touch. When I could no longer bear it, I averted my face away from his. He stood so close to me now, I felt his warm breath on my neck.

“Ye smell like a rose in full bloom, ye do,” he muttered in my ear.

The rank smell of him caused my stomach to roll, but I dared not rebuke him for fear of some worse treatment. Trying to hold my breath, I took a step back away from him, and my back slammed up against the thick expanse of the bottom of the broken and splintered mast.

Moving even closer, he pinned me between him and the mast, then placed his hands upon my shoulders.

“I wonder wot yer kiss be like,” he said in a tone little more than a whisper, and I was unable to control the shudder that ran through me. Placing his grimy fingers under my chin, he turned my face toward his. It was all I could do not to vomit at the odor of him and the feted stench of his rotting teeth. Swallowing hard, I forced down the bile rising in my throat.

“Please.” A hoarse whisper managed to escape me.

“Aye, yer Ladyship. I aim to please ye,” he whispered.

“Take yer filthy ‘ands off her!” Mary shrieked. She tried to rush to my aid, but two of the pirates grabbed her and held her back.

Scruffy’s face was so close to mine that nary an inch remained between us. His black eyes burned into my flesh, like a starving man eyeing his next meal. Leaning in closer still, he pressed his filthy body against mine and placing one dirty hand upon my waist, he whispered, “Do ye have any idea how long it’s been since I had a woman?”

The band of miscreants cheered him on, and I realized for the first time that my virtue might indeed be lost. Tears pooled in my eyes and I averted my face away from his, unable to tolerate his closeness a moment longer. His grimy hand moved from my waist and inched up toward the bodice of my gown as he began slobbering kisses upon my neck. The shiver that ran through me was visible to anyone watching.

“And a beauty such as yerself ... aye ... a pleasure it’ll be.”

Just as his hand reached my breast, the sharp sound of an object hurling swiftly toward us rang out. The air stirred beside my head, followed by the vibration of something slamming into the mast very close to my ear. Scruffy jumped back at the sound of the sword still vibrating in the wood only inches from his head.

“Mister Taylor.” A deep and dangerous voice echoed over the vibrating sword and the heads of the men who now fell silent before him. “I believe I gave explicit instructions that the prisoner not be touched.”

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Captain ... I was just havin’ a little feel o’ the girl. No harm done, no harm done,” he stammered as he backed away.

I looked up toward the sound of the dark and dangerous voice, but the owner stood above me, up upon the rail, and with the sun at his back offered only the darkness of his shadow.

“If any man among you cares to disobey my orders, you may feel free to remain here, upon the disabled
Tempest
. Otherwise, gather the prisoner and make way back to
The Lady Victoria
. Mister Taylor, bring the Countess to my cabin ... unharmed,” he commanded, and then he turned away.

The scruffy Mister Taylor grabbed hold of my arm, but I tore it from his grasp.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I hissed at him through clenched teeth. He leaned closer, bringing his thin and grimy face within inches of mine.

“Aye, ye be, Countess ... like it or no,” he replied. Grabbing my arm, a little more roughly this time, he dragged me across the deck.

“Captain,” I shouted as loudly as I could.

Every man upon the deck froze, then looked in their Captain’s direction. The Captain turned back to face me, and with the sun in my eyes, I still could not make out his features.

“A request, Milady?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Yes, if you please, Sir, kindly permit me to have my maid, Mary, accompany me, for propriety’s sake,” I said in a strong clear voice, resounding with a courage I certainly didn’t feel.

He laughed and said, “Are there any others among you who wish to accompany the Countess?”

Silence filled the air, and I chanced a glance at my father, who cast his eyes downward and said not a word.
Coward
.

“I am certain there is at least one among you who would be competent enough to deliver a message to the Duke of Devonshire. Kindly advise His Grace that if he wishes to ever see his lovely bride again, he shall pay a pirate’s ransom,” the pirate lord’s powerful voice commanded.

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Sir,” Smith muttered, taking a tentative step toward the pirate lord, “but do ye mind tellin’ us wot amount a coin a pirate’s ransom be?”

“Ah, Smith, there you are. You have been most helpful in assisting me here today, and your reward awaits you aboard
The Lady
. As for His Grace, Wentworth Simmons is quite aware of what my ransom demands are. Now, Countess, would you care to extend an invitation to any others to accompany you before we depart?”

My mouth dropped open as I watched the wiry Mister Smith, my betrayer, scamper across the plank and onto the huge pirate ship. Snapping my jaw closed, I allowed my eyes to sweep the remainder of the crew and I dared a glance once again at my father, whose gaze met mine briefly. But in that scant moment, I recognized his silent plea, begging me not to name him.

Realizing the pirate lord awaited my reply, I uttered softly, “No, Sir. Just my maid, if you would be so kind.”

“Very well, Milady, as you wish.” Without another word, he strode off, his large frame disappearing into the setting sun.

Rough hands grabbed me and passed me from hand to hand, lifting me high into the air above their heads, like a sack of grain being carried across the plank that rested between our tiny ship and the grand pirate vessel.

My teeth jarred as I was set down roughly upon the deck, and finding my balance, I turned just in time to see the plank being pulled away from
The Tempest
. My chest heaved and my breath came rapidly from scrambling and trying to pull away from the grasp of the vile Mister Taylor. His fingers tightened like irons around my arm, and the helplessness of my situation tightened its grip around my heart. I gazed upon the stark and drawn face of my father standing among the crew, helpless on the deck of the disabled vessel, and fear nearly closed my throat, choking off my breath.

“Wot o’them others, Captain?” Mister Taylor asked, following my gaze.

“Leave them,” the eloquent Captain called back over his shoulder as he strode away from us.

My limbs shook, and I couldn’t bring myself to face my captors. My heart hammered and I tried to rein in my fear. Mustering a measure of courage, I chanced a sideways glance through lowered lashes at the pirate lord.

My hooded eyes followed him and although his back was to me, I was surprised to find he was not at all what I expected. I thought certainly he would be dirty and covered in filthy rags, much as his crew, but he wasn’t. He stood at least a head above any of his men and wore a clean, stark white shirt, which clung to his broad shoulders. His raven hair gleamed in the sunlight, despite the fact that it was tied back in a black ribbon, and his long legs were covered in dark trousers that seemed to stretch downward and melt into the tops of shinny black boots. No, he was not what I expected at all.

But when he neared the passage descending into the bowels of the ship, he turned to face his crew and despite my shaking knees, my breath caught in my throat and it was all I could do to stifle a gasp. Handsome was not the word to describe the man who faced me, for it would fall short in telling of the look of him. His deeply tanned face was smooth and clean-shaven, perfect but for the thin scar gracing his left cheekbone and spoke of an underlying danger that only added to his appeal. What really struck me though and held my stare were his eyes ... deep green, sparkling as the sea and framed with the haze of thick dark lashes. His lazy gaze wandered over me, and a tiny hint of a grin captured just the corner of his lips when his eyes finally met mine. Drawing his attention away from me, he called out orders to his crew.

“All hands to your stations—hoist the sails. Mister Beckett, take the wheel,” he yelled and turned again to descend the stairway, when almost as an afterthought he called over his shoulder, “Mister Taylor, bring the prisoner to my quarters.”