A Pirate's Ransom (5 page)

The days slipped by and although the Captain kept his distance, I was never out of his sight. However, every time I chanced a glance at him, it seemed his scowl deepened, and the crew openly complained of his bad temper. One morning while walking on deck with Mary, I overheard two of the pirates talking.

“It be ’er wot got the Captain in such a temper.”

“The Countess?”

“Aye. The sooner we gets ‘er off this ship, the better. Women aboard ship be bad luck.”

“For a piece o’ bad luck, she sure be a right pretty one.”

“Aye, that she be.”

“Maybe that be what vexes the Captain. Maybe he’s taken a fancy to her.”

“Nay, he wouldn’t have.”

“Aye, watch ‘ow he looks at her.”

Suddenly the two sailors became aware of the fact that their conversation was no longer private and looked nervously at each other as I approached.

“Good day, Gentlemen,” I said with a smile, hoping to not indicate I had overheard their conversation.

“Me Lady,” they replied in unison.

Strolling along past them, I lowered my voice to a whisper and asked, “Mary, do you think there is any merit to what the pirates said just then?”

“Oh, Miss, I couldn’t say.”

“You know, I have never met a man like Captain Drake.”

“Ye ain’t never ‘ad the chance to meet many men on the island. But bein’ a Lady, ye ain’t really acquainted over much with the ways o’ men. As well ye shouldn’t be.”

“No, but still the Captain is nothing like my father.”

“No Miss, I don’t suppose he is. Yer father is a gent, he is, an’ well, the Captain, he be a pirate.”

The sound of her words faded as the memory of my father’s cowardice the day we were taken brought a fresh sting of pain to my heart. He never even spoke a word to try and save me. Was I such a burden to him that he would so easily allow me to be taken? Despite the pain the memory of that day brought me, I couldn’t help but wonder what had become of him and the crew of
The Tempest
.

I sighed. Forcing the memory of my father’s drawn face from my mind I walked along with Mary in silence. We strolled together past the pirates engaged in their duties. They hardly spared us a glance, yet the smell of their dirty clothes and filthy bodies nearly choked me. Then the seed of a thought sprouted in my mind.

“Mary, today we shall make some well-needed changes aboard this ship.”

“Oh, now, Miss, don’t ye be causin’ no more of a fuss. What ye be plannin’ to do this time?”

“Well, to start with, these men are all in dire need of a bath.”

“Oh, Miss.” She giggled. “They won’t likely be takin’ kindly to that I wager.”

“I care little for how they will be taking to it, but it is necessary. I have had animals that have smelled far better than most of these men.”

“Aye, Miss. That be true.”

“It will be necessary to enlist the aid of your Mister Smith. Do you think you have enough influence over him to coax him to help us?”

“I’ll give it me best try.”

Later that afternoon, Mister Smith and a few crew members dragged the big brass tub from the Captain’s cabin up to the deck. Each crew member was instructed to bathe and wash their clothes. Shirts and britches hung on the rails and in the rigging drying in the wind as the last of the pirate crew lined up for a bath. Their grumbling was short lived when I arrived. “Gentlemen, it is now a pleasure to stand among you. Who would have ever imagined such handsome men to be hidden beneath all that grime?” I walked between them, straightening a collar here and there, and touching a clean-shaven face.

Their smiles told me the flattery had hit its mark.

“What the devil is going on here?” the Captain’s deep voice boomed from behind me.

Mister Smith was quick to reply.

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Captain, Sir, but I thought it be fittin’, since we have a Lady aboard, that the men make themselves more presentable. Clean themselves up a bit ... it be only right.”

His eyes traveled over the clothes hanging in the rigging and along the rails, and he shook his head. Walking to stand before me, he asked, “The crew is wearing their Sunday best, are they? Is this your doing, Countess?”

“Nay, Captain,” Smith quickly answered, “it be mine.”

“Would you care for a bath, Captain?” I teased.

Looking down at me, his eyes danced with amusement. Leaning closer, he whispered so only I could hear, “Is that an invitation, Milady? Would you care to wash my back?”

My cheeks burned. Part of me wanted to slap him and part of me wanted to watch the trails of warm soapy water run down his strong, naked back.

That night, as in keeping with my new strategy, I decided Mary and I would take our evening meal with the crew. As we made our way along the dark and narrow passageway to the galley, butterflies danced in my stomach at the prospects of seeing
him
.

Laughter and the sounds of conversation and genuine camaraderie emanated from the galley, but as soon as I entered the room, the men’s voices fell silent. My eyes roamed the galley. The dark wooden table seemed to take up the entire room. Lanterns hung from the low ceiling casting their glow about the room. Great platters of food were laid out upon the table. My gaze fell upon the faces of each crew member. Their blank expressions made me self-conscious. I quickly scanned the crowd, looking for Edmund, but he was not present. Struggling to hide my disappointment, I said, “Good evening, gentlemen. Please, please continue with your conversation.”

Wide-eyed stares accompanied by gaping looks of astonishment made up their reply.

“Gentlemen, I hope you do not mind if I take my evening meal with you,” I said with the hint of a question.

“Nay, me Lady,” Tobias Smith answered, jumping up to offer me his seat. Mary sat in the seat beside me to my right.

“Thank you, Mister Smith. As I approached the galley, it sounded as if you were engaged in lively conversation. Please do not allow me to interrupt.”

An awkward silence resounded.

As I filled my plate, I attempted a casual conversation.

“I would like to thank you gentlemen once again for bathing today.”

Silence.

“I truly appreciate your efforts and cooperation.”

More silence.

“I thought I would mention that I have discovered some very interesting tomes in the Captain’s cabin, and I wonder if any of you would be interested in hearing me read aloud.”

Some shook their heads in agreement, but still remained silent.

“What the devil is this?”
His
voice boomed over the silence.

“Good evening, Captain.” I spun toward him and graced him with what I thought to be my most alluring smile.

“Good evening, Countess,” he replied in a tone which held a tinge of annoyance. A deep frown creased his brow.

“Would you care to join us?” I asked.

“No, thank you, Milady. Mister Smith, please see that a plate is brought up to me. I shall be at the wheel.”

“Aye, Captain,” Smith answered.

“Are you certain, Captain? There is plenty of room. Here, you may sit next to me.” I patted the seat of the empty chair beside me to my left.

“That’s very kind of you, Countess, but my attention is required elsewhere.”

“Pity. We shall miss your company.” I smiled again.

His eyes grew dark, and my pulse raced when danger flashed behind his gaze.

“Yes, quite,” he replied, then strode from the galley.

After the dinner plates were cleared from the table, the cook brought a heaping plate of succulent meat and roasted vegetables and potatoes and handed it to Mister Smith.

“Mister Smith, I would be happy to deliver that plate of food up to the Captain,” I said to the wiry quartermaster who stood there with the Captain’s dinner plate in his hand.

“Me Lady ... I ...”

Taking the plate from his hands, I strode from the galley, leaving him standing open-mouthed behind me.

Climbing the steps to the upper deck, I found Edmund standing at the wheel staring out into the night.

“Captain?”

“Yes, Countess, how can I help you this evening?” He turned to face me as I approached him.

The breeze tousled his hair and brought his manly scent directly to me, stirring emotions in me I didn’t know existed. I paused momentarily to compose myself before I replied.

“I have brought your dinner up to you. Where would you like me to place it?”

“There on that chest behind you. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He drew his gaze away from me and stared out again into the night. When I didn’t move to leave, he faced me again and asked, “What is it, Countess?”

“How do you know where you’re going?”

He chuckled. “Here, come stand before the wheel.”

He stepped aside and motioned for me to come and stand between him and the great wooden wheel. I did as he requested.

“Place your hands upon the wheel, here upon the handles,” he said, indicating the location by tapping the spokes. When I placed my hands upon the smooth palm-sized handles, I found the heat of his grip still clung to them.

I turned to ask him questions, but he moved to stand closer to me, nearly pressing his chest against my back. I held my breath, waiting. He stood so close I felt the heat of him seeping into my back, but excitement filled me when he placed his hands over mine on the wheel. His arms rested against mine and his chest nestled against my back. He leaned close to me and whispered in my ear, “Relax, Catherine. Do you feel the movement of the ship?”

“Yes,” I whispered, “but how do you know your direction in the dark of night?”

“By the stars.” He stepped even closer, and my head rested against his shoulder.

“Do you know any of the constellations?”

“No ... I ...” Suddenly I felt embarrassed by the lack of a proper education. “I fear there are many things I do not have the knowledge of.”

His chuckle rumbled against my back. “Very well, then there are many things I shall have to teach you.” His warm breath brushed against my ear, and a shiver rushed through me.

“You are chilled, Milady?” He planted a trail of warm kisses along my neck. “Allow me to warm you.”

“Captain, I ...”

He turned me in his arms, and drew me into his embrace. I gazed up into his eyes, and knew I could easily drown in the depths of those deep green pools. He lowered his warm lips to meet mine. His kiss was tender and sweet, and held a promise, a promise I sensed but could not understand. My arms wound around his neck. I craved more, and he gave me what I craved. His lips took mine in a deep kiss. His tongue invaded the depths of my mouth and began a slow, sensual dance with mine. His fingers pulled the comb from my hair, allowing my curls to tumble down my back, and he drew his fingers through the silky length.

Drawing his lips away from mine, he held me gently in his arms burying his face in my hair. He trembled in my arms, and warm heat pooled in the center of my womanhood. I didn’t know what caused him to struggle so, but I knew I didn’t want him to stop kissing me. His lips caressed mine once more and I sighed into our kiss.

His hand rose to caress my breast, and a soft moan escaped my lips. I was in deep water, and I was drowning in a sea of desire. I was torn, wanting him to continue, but, even in my ignorance, knowing I should not allow it.

His warm fingers slipped beneath the bodice of my gown, then beneath my chemise. I placed my hand upon his in an effort to stop him, but when his fingers stroked my nipple, a flood of pleasure ran through me. I never dreamed such exquisite sensations were possible.

I could no longer think, could no longer reason. I knew this was wrong, but it felt so right. I wanted to feel his hands on my skin. There in the dark, with only the stars as our witness, I wanted him to touch me, and I wanted to touch him. I was not even conscious that I had unbuttoned his shirt, until I felt the warmth of his naked chest beneath my palm. I had no idea what to do other than to mimic his actions. Finding his nipple, I allowed my fingertips to make gentle circles over it. A soft moan came from his throat.

He drew his lips from mine, his breathing ragged, his eyes hooded, filled with a dangerous look.

Thinking I had done something wrong, my fingers stilled, and rested over his heart, which thundered beneath my touch.

He placed his warm hand upon mine. Heat raged through me and my stomach tightened. Taking my hand in his, he gently guided my fingers to touch the bulge at the front of his trousers. Fear prickled my spine, and I pulled my hand away. He gently guided my touch back to the hard bulge. “This is what you do to me, Catherine,” he murmured. “I want you. I have tried to stay away from you, but I find I cannot help myself.”

“Edmund, I-I never ...” His kiss blocked my words. Still, I could not bring myself to keep my hand there upon his hardness. Not knowing what to do, I wound my arms around his neck.

His lips captured mine, and in the heat of desire, I had not realized he had lifted my breast free from my gown. He lowered his head, leaving a trail of hot kisses that sent a shot of hot wetness between my legs. His lips touched my nipple and he gently sucked my sensitive flesh into the depths of his warm mouth.

My head rolled back and I clung to him as pleasure ripped through me. He held me to him, rolling my nipple around with his tongue.

I felt the coolness of the night against my skin, but it did not cool the fire of desire burning in my soul.

He drew the skirt of my gown upward. I knew I was venturing into dangerous waters, but I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t want to. It felt sinful, and totally wicked, but I wanted him to touch me. His hand ran up my inner thigh, and I groaned.

My flesh burned beneath his touch as he traced a slow warm trail up my thigh. The tips of his fingers brushed aside my undergarment and grazed the soft hair nestled between my legs, and I moaned in anticipation.