Pirated Love (6 page)

Tina wanted to ask how she was feeling and then thought that was odd.  She had never asked one of her lovers what they were feeling, or their thoughts for that matter.  She had taken what she wanted from them, learning when she was young, then taking what she needed when she was older and more experienced.  Most had known what to do and taken just as much, but few had been unknowing of a woman’s loving, and none had ever stirred her.  She wanted to comfort this one, she wanted to talk to her, and Tina found this reaction strange. 

A while passed and Tina realized Claire had fallen asleep.  Smiling ruefully, her own body wishing to find release, she suppressed her feelings.  She had gotten some satisfaction in knowing what she had drawn out of Claire’s body.  She covered both of them, tucking in the sleeping blonde, and blew out the light.

* * * * *

When Claire woke up the next morning she found that her chest had been delivered and she could dress.  She found a sewing packet and spent a little time repairing her torn shift and blouse.  Using the captain’s brush, she brushed out her long tangled hair and pinned it back.  She did not dare put it up, as having it down signified she was still a virgin.  She wondered, after last night, was she?  She blushed as she thought about the previous night and what the captain had done to her.  She admitted to herself that she had enjoyed it.  It had not been so bad, and then she wondered how much more she was in for.  There was a knock on the door and she called, “Come in.”  The pirate who had delivered their supper the night before brought in a large platter with dishes laden down with food.  Behind him, the captain came in dressed in pants and a new scarlet-colored shirt.  The contrast from the white one of yesterday was striking.  It clashed with her red hair, but apparently the woman did not care.  The pirate quickly put down the platter and left with a slight salute to the captain and closed the door behind him.

“Good morning,” the captain said to her, examining her with her intense green eyes.

“Good morning,” Claire replied, automatically looking anywhere but at the redhead.

Tina smiled, she could see the telltale blush on the blonde’s face.  She leaned over and lifted Claire’s chin.  “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” she told her.

“I am sure that man knew exactly what we did in here last night,” she said, as she tried not to look into those green eyes, and failed.  She settled for looking out of the corners of her eyes.

They lit up in delight.  “Of course he does.  Everyone on this ship knows I take men and women as lovers.  They would think it odd if I did not.”  She released Claire’s chin and began to look over the dishes before helping herself to breakfast.

“You take men
and
women as lovers?” Claire felt brave enough to ask.

The captain nodded as she spooned up porridge and sat down to eat.

“B-b-but how can you?” Claire asked, horrified.  The idea of choosing your lover was beyond her; she certainly had not had a choice!

“I do what I want when I want,” the captain said forcefully and began to serve herself.  Indicating the food, she offered, “Help yourself.”

Claire could not imagine having freedom such as that.  Her father had made most of her decisions for her, and in his stead, his servants.  She could not think of having such freedom.  But lovers?  More than one?  That boggled the mind, as she absentmindedly helped herself to the dishes offered.  Concentrating on the food, she realized there were fresh eggs and bacon among the offerings.  “You have eggs and bacon?  On a ship?” she asked.

The captain nodded and talking around her food answered, “We keep chickens on board, not only for their eggs, but in case we have to eat them.  The pig we got just last week, and the sides of ham and bacon will keep indefinitely if smoked and hung right.”

Claire was astonished.  The food on His Majesty’s ship had been basic, with soups and weevil-filled bread.  This was delicious and she ate up every bite.

“It helps that I have an excellent chef,” Tina added as she watched her captive eat, an amused look on her face.

“This is absolutely delicious,” Claire agreed as she lightly buttered her toast and added marmalade.  “You are very lucky to have found this chef,” she complimented as she would have at any friend’s table.

“Well, found him, I did indeed,” Tina laughed as she remembered.

“I do not understand?” Claire asked, as she looked over at the captain’s laugh.

“I did find him.  He was in a jail that I broke him and a couple of the other lads out of,” her voice changed to an almost Irish brogue as she sat back in her chair remembering.  Her arm curled over the back of the chair as she gestured with her butter knife.

“You broke him out of jail?” Claire asked, horrified and yet intrigued.

The captain nodded as she related the story, “Aye, I frequently find the lads are more than grateful at the favor I do them and are willing to become my crew members in exchange.  Some stay for a while, some are still with me, and some ride on to other ports making their way back home.  No one is shanghaied on my crew!” she said forcefully, using the point of the knife to emphasize it.

“Shanghaied?  What does that mean?”

“It is when they are forced to go to work on a ship.  Sometimes they are knocked on the head, and while unconscious, thrown on a ship.  When they come to they are given a choice, either work for their bed and board or jump ship.  As the ship is out to sea at that point they really have no choice.  If they do not work, and work hard, they are usually whipped.  Since many ships that use this technique are heading for the Orient and a long voyage, sometimes to Shanghai, that’s where the term comes into play.”

“But you do not do that?” Claire asked, fearfully, realizing how dangerous it might be to be on such a ship.

The captain shook her head.  Her hair was clubbed back today in a tie and looped back up so its length would not get in her way.  It looked lovely, the red especially nice in the morning light through the windows.  “Nope, I give an honest day’s pay for an honest day’s work.”

“But you are pirates!” Claire exclaimed.

Tina laughed at her naïveté.  “Aye we are, but these men know what they are getting into on the Black Betty.  We may be pirates, but we are honest ones between us!”

Claire did not understand, but she was not going to argue.  “If they are in prison, and you break them out, is that not illegal?”

Tina nodded.  “Usually the jail I break them out of is grateful to me for relieving them of the burden of a trial.  I take men who are willing to work for me, willing to work for a woman, and who otherwise might end up on a worse ship, one that does not share the bounty of what they are risking their necks for.”

“But don’t pirates steal?” Claire asked, in a little girl’s voice.

“Aye, you could call it stealing, but you could also call it evening things out a bit,” Tina smiled at the word play.

“But stealing’s a sin!” she said, horrified.

“So is gluttony and a few other things.  We do not steal from those that truly need it, we are not bloodthirsty, and we ‘donate’ a bit here and there.”

Claire shook her head at this argument; she could sense she would not win on the ‘stealing’ part.

“Look, we do not steal from certain ships, only those fat enough to make it worth our while.  In the belly of your ship there were certain ‘articles’ that were quite valuable.  You were just a bonus,” she added with a grin.

Claire blushed at the phrasing.  To change the subject, she said, “Thank you for having my trunk brought to me.  I was able to make some repairs on my clothing.”  She indicated the blouse and shift on the end of the captain’s bed, which she had also made once she got up.

The captain raised an eyebrow at the neatly made bed and nodded.  “So you can sew, eh?” she leaned forward to begin eating again.

“Yes, I can make all my clothes,” Claire replied, proudly.

The captain nodded and then asked, “Think you can sew a sail?”

Claire thought for moment, having seen the sailors on her other ship sew the broadcloths that controlled the vessel, and nodded.  “It might be a bit thicker than what I am used to, but I would be willing to try,” she replied.

Tina nodded.  “I never could learn to sew, no matter how often I tried.”  She chuckled.  “Imagine that, a sailor that does not know how to sew!”

“You mean to be a sailor you have to learn to sew?”

Tina poured juice from the pitcher into both their cups and nodded.  “Every seaman learns how to sew; you need yer sails to get you across these wide open seas.  I never could sew a seam worth its weight, so I learned to do other things well.”

“How did you become a captain?” Claire asked, as she nodded her thanks over the filled cup.  Taking a sip of the juice, she was surprised at its flavor.  “What is this?” she asked.

Tina hesitated over which question to answer first and chose the latter.  “It is a mix of fruit blends from fruit that’s native to the tropics. Our chef makes it.  Sometimes he ferments it and it becomes an alcoholic beverage or like this, he mixes the blend to make a fruity drink.  Delicious, is it not?” she asked, as she took a hearty drink.  Gone was the fastidious woman of the previous night, she seemed to recall she was a pirate and was hiding the manners she had shown the night before.

“It is delicious,” Claire responded in agreement.

“You do not want to be drinking more than a couple of cups full though,” the captain cautioned with a grin, as she filled her own empty cup again.

“Why is that?” Claire now looked suspiciously at her own half empty cup, wondering why.

“It’ll give you the shits,” Tina said bluntly, with an even wider grin at the horror on Claire’s face of the subject that they were now discussing, much less the language.

Claire saw the grin and despite herself she wanted to laugh.  The captain looked mischievous in her devilment, trying to shock her.  “That reminds me...” Claire started to say.

“Under the bed and rinse it out when you are done, throwing it out the back window,” she nodded toward the bank of windows that were part of her apartment.

Claire was blushing at their conversation, but she had her answer.  “How do you know I will not jump out them?” she asked.

“Go ahead, if death is preferable to living,” she responded.

Claire was surprised at the answer, and looking out the bank of windows at the ocean, decided that drowning would not be a pleasant endeavor.  “You would lose your fat reward,” she said instead.

The captain shrugged.  “I have got enough money to last my lifetime, what is a little more or less?” she asked.

“Then why do you bother?” Claire asked, genuinely interested.

“It is the excitement, the danger, the intrigue.”  A thoughtful look came over the redhead’s face.  “I see more of the world than most realize exists.  I have been to the Far East, I have been around the Horn, I have seen more people of the world, heard the languages, seen more sights, than could ever be put into books.”

Claire listened in awe.  She had read a lot and loved hearing of those far-off places.  Here was someone who had actually
been
.  “But you need not steal to do those things or go to those places?”

The captain nodded.  “You are right.  We do not steal that often anymore.”  She sighed.  “But then the prize was worth capturing this time.  They thought by putting it on that particular ship that we would not hear of it or bother.  The walls have ears and the ears tend to be attached to a mouth, mouths speak and here we are, in possession of a greater prize than we had anticipated,” she indicated Claire sitting across from her.

“You wax poetic,” Claire said primly, to hide the telltale blush on her person.

“Would you like to walk up on deck?” the captain asked instead.

“Oh, may I?  I did on the other ship and quite enjoyed it,” she stated, enthused.

“You do not get seasick?” Tina asked, amused at her enthusiasm.

Claire shook her head.  “Not that I know of, the only sick I got was at my fiancé’s proximity,” she let slip and quickly hid her mouth in her napkin, realizing she had spoken out of turn.

Tina laughed, having met the arrogant bastard and having quite enjoyed humiliating him.  The little worm had made demands that had no hope of making a difference in her treatment of him or his person.  Having tasted of his fiancé’s charms though, she thought she understood his motivations better.  She would have fought for this tasty tidbit if it were hers.  In fact, the thought of tasting her again whetted her appetite.  She stuffed it down.  Those thoughts were better left for bedtime.  She had a ship to run.  “He was a bit on the ugly side wouldn’t you say?” she asked.

Claire tried to hide the snigger that choked up from her throat and into her nose, but failed.  Ugly was not the right word.  Disgusting, vulgar, and a few other words sprang to mind.

Tina was thrilled at the totally unladylike sound coming from her captive.  “Are you finished?” she inquired, solicitously, indicating the repast before them.

Claire nodded and the captain escorted her from the room and up the stairs to the next deck, and then the next, before coming on to the main deck and out of doors.  Several of the pirates looked on curiously, but no one made any unkind remarks or looked beyond a cursory glance.  The captain had put her stamp on this one and as such, no one wished to incur her enmity.  Death would be a welcome privilege if she decided that she had been offended.  She had been known to be downright mean in her desire to pay out vengeance.