by Merry Farmer
It was then he noticed that his books and trinkets were littered about the room. It was as he had feared. They had become flying objects and she had been victim to something — though what, he wasn’t sure.
She finally stirred, and when she opened her eyes, he could tell that it took a moment for him to come into focus.
“Good God, Penelope, are you all right?”
“I… think so?” she said, blinking, one hand coming to the side of her head where the welt had formed. “Did we survive the storm?”
“If we didn’t, I somehow doubt that we would have ended up in the same place,” he said with a wry smile, but his words only caused her to frown.
“Don’t say that,” she said, which he could only laugh at.
“You just lost consciousness, and still, you are ordering me about.”
“Not purposely.”
“Well, we survived. Barely, but we did,” he said, untying the rope from each of the bedposts, unable to stop himself from lifting her in his arms and checking her for any further wounds.
“Does anything else hurt?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “You, however, look a fright.”
He could only imagine. He looked down at himself, seeing that his clothing was torn and realizing just how cold he was, with all soaked through to his skin.
“We nearly capsized,” he said, not seeing a need to keep the truth from her. She had, after all, chosen to stow away on a pirate ship. She should understand what she got herself into.
“But you saved the ship,” she said, admiration that he didn’t deserve in her eyes. “And all of us.”
“It was the crew,” he said, shaking his head. “And fortune smiling down on us.”
“I said a prayer,” she said with a small smile.
“As did I,” he said, surprising himself by sharing such a thing with her.
He set her down for a moment to find a piece of linen for her head, though she assured him that she was fine.
She caught his hand in hers and as Ramsay stared into her eyes, a twinge caught him unaware. It began deep in his chest and extended throughout his body, causing a strange warmth to fill him. It was almost as though—
“Captain! Ramsay, come quickly!”
It better be important, Ramsay thought as he wrenched open the door to find one of the young lads awaiting him.
“What is it?” he growled, but the boy was already moving up the stairs, motioning to Ramsay to follow him.
He did, shocked, as he always was, by just how peaceful the water could be coming out the other side of such a major storm.
“Over here,” Bastian called from his position on the port side of the boat, and Ramsay strode over toward him.
“What is it?” he repeated.
Bastian pointed before them, and Ramsay followed his finger.
“Land,” he said.
“But what land?” Ramsay asked, wondering where the storm had pushed them.
“Puerto Rico.”
Penny heard Bastian’s words before she saw the shore herself.
Puerto Rico. Their destination, where she would be separated from Captain Ramsay and his crew and would have to find other transport to Boston.
Suddenly the prospect of joining her uncle and his merchant ship didn’t have the same appeal as it once had.
Ramsay turned from the rail, seeing her and meeting her eyes. For a moment, Penny thought she might have seen something there — reluctance? Regret? But it was gone in a flash and his guard raised once more.
“Where are we?” she asked, despite having heard Bastian’s words. Puerto Rico, however, was a large island.
“The sailing master thinks we have blown in on the north shore of Puerto Rico. A bit farther west and we’ll be in San Juan.”
“Where you’ll leave me.”
“Where we will leave you.”
Penny looked down at her hands. Her fingers were woven so tightly together that they had turned white.
“No more stowing away,” Ramsay said, bringing his index finger to her chin and tilting her head up. “We’ll give you enough coin that you can purchase a berth and find your way to Boston. Understood?”
“You don’t need to do that,” she murmured, but he was shaking his head, still under the impression, apparently, that she was under his command as much as any other on this ship.
“We don’t need to do anything,” Ramsay said. “But we choose to. Isn’t that right?”
He looked around at the few members of his crew who had gathered about them to take a look at the shore in the distance.
“It is,” Joey said, smiling at Penelope, and she returned his welcome expression. He came over to look more closely at the her head, and Penny was shocked when she turned back to Ramsay to find a ferocious scowl covering his face.
“Captain,” Needlenose Finley said, having been temporarily relieved from his duties as helmsman so that he could join the conversation about exactly where they were heading. “Are you sure we should leave Miss Carstairs in San Juan? Would not an English territory be better? Then she could—”
“Miss Carstairs,” Ramsay bit out as he turned to the man, and Penelope hated how formal he sounded when speaking of her, “chose to stow away on this ship. The fact that she received free passage across the Atlantic should be thanks enough. We will make certain that she is well provided for, and she can then travel the rest of the way.”
The helmsman looked at Penny with a helpless shrug as though to say he had tried, and Penny attempted a smile in thanks, though it was difficult through the twinge of pain that had coursed through her at Ramsay’s harsh words.
At least she knew where she stood.
“We’ll leave you at dawn,” he said, addressing her now as if he hadn’t just thrown the words spoken about her like she was a common thief. “It will be the best opportunity to take you as close to the docks as possible without our ship being seen. We don’t want Ortego to receive any warning that we are here. Aloysius and Joey will take you ashore, find you a proper berth, and then they will rejoin us. Understand?”
Aloysius and Joey nodded.
“I—” Penelope paused so that the pirates wouldn’t hear the break in her voice. “I best be packing my things then.”
She turned from them and all but ran down the steps to the captain’s cabin so that they wouldn’t see the tears that burned against the backs of her eyelids begin to fall.
Except when she reached Ramsay’s room, where they had spent so many nights together during the passage, she realized she didn’t have anything to pack. None of these possessions were hers. The small bag she had brought aboard contained nothing more than one spare gown, a brush, and a necklace that had been her mother’s.
The stark truth was staring at her from the empty abyss that was her little bag. She had nothing. And no one.
Ramsay knew he had been a bit of a brute. Guilt enveloped him as he followed Penelope’s path down the stairs to his cabin.
But he couldn’t help who he was, he told himself. She had known he was a pirate captain. Had accepted his touch anyway. She was lucky they had brought her this far.
Except, deep within him, he knew the truth. He was masking the despair that coursed through him at the thought of their separation.
At the very least, he would ensure she was safe. Aloysius was slightly dim-witted but as loyal as could be. And while jealousy raged within him each time Joey stared at her, he knew that he could trust the boy with her safety. Ramsay was well aware the lad cared for Penelope, but Penelope hadn’t shown any interest in him beyond friendship. By this time, Ramsay could read the signs of her interest. Her eyes became slightly hooded, a flush rose in her cheeks, and her slightly crooked top-two teeth sucked her bottom lip between them.
He slowly pushed open the door of his cabin, both eager to see her and yet reluctant to go in. The knowledge that their time together was limited was what finally propelled him to enter the room.
The s
ight before him nearly broke him.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to him, her small bag open before her. Three of the dresses his crew had bought for her were folded on the table in the middle of the cabin. The other was the one she wore upon her body.
“Penelope?” he said slowly, questioningly, but all he heard in response was her answering sniff.
“Did this mean anything to you?” she asked, her hand sweeping around the room, and he understood exactly what the action signified — all that had occurred between them, within this cabin.
“I enjoyed myself,” he said cautiously. As he did so, she lifted her head, those eyes, the very color of the sea he loved so much, cutting deep into him, forcing him to feel the tide pool of emotions that were swirling through his very soul like an unexpected maelstrom in the middle of the ocean. He saw now her tear-stained cheeks, the desperation in her eyes, which were mirroring all that he felt deep within him.
While it was true that he had enjoyed himself, it was more than that. He cared about her. He needed her.
The thought struck him like a sword plunged straight through his chest.
He had been pierced in the side before, but physically, he had known the wound would heal. As for this, he wasn’t entirely sure.
“You enjoyed yourself?” she said, biting out each word. She was angry now. Good. Anger was better than sorrow. “Is that all you have to say? Is that all I was to you? Someone to have some fun with, to pass the endless hours with as we sailed across the ocean?”
No, that was not all she was to him. She had been far more. She had been a star in the night sky that had guided his way to the man that lurked in the shadows, behind the mask of Captain Ramsay of The Raven’s Wing — the man he had thought he was. She had shown him more.
But she was too good for him. He had been too weak a man to resist her. Had he known, however, just how she would forge a path into his heart, he would never have come near her. He would have slept tied to the rail with the rain pelting him night after night. It would have been far better than this.
He couldn’t care for someone, not as he did her. He couldn’t spend each battle worried about the woman hiding in his cabin, nor find himself praying with all his might through every storm, knowing that it was not only the lives of the crew that depended on him but also a woman such as Penelope.
But how did he tell her that? How did he make her understand?
He looked at her now, so beautiful standing there staring at him, fists at her side, scarlet in her cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to stride across the room, take her in his arms, and kiss away all the pain that swam within her eyes — pain that he had caused.
That, however, would do nothing but make everything worse.
As she stood there, looking at him with such desperation, Ramsay knew what he had to do. She was warring between hurt and anger. He would decide for her. It would destroy him, and yet, ironically, was also likely the most compassionate thing he had ever done in his life.
He would make her hate him as much as everyone else did.
Chapter 14
“Yes,” Ramsay said, staring at her, his eyes as dark as the night sky. “That’s all you were to me.”
Penny gasped, clutching at her chest as her heart felt as though it was breaking in two. “Truly?”
“What did you expect?” he asked gruffly, his eyes hardening. “That I would fall madly in love with you?” He laughed a cruel laugh that cut Penny to her very soul. “You are aware, wench, that I don’t have it within me to love? I am Captain Ramsay, remember?”
“You are far more than that,” she cried out at him. “You know that as well as I do. And as much as you are trying to deny it, what we had together was real, and it was true, and you’re being horrible right now because you are trying to push that aside.”
“If that is what you choose to believe,” he said with the shrug of one shoulder, “then so be it. But you knew what you were getting yourself into when you invited me to your bed — or my bed, I should say. We were enjoying one another’s company for a time, and now we’ll go our separate ways. Did you not enjoy yourself?”
Her jaw worked, but no sound came out. “I— I don’t know.”
“I know,” he said, a glint coming to his eye. “I made sure of it, did I not?” He winked at her and laughed once more. Penny felt tears beginning anew.
“You are being horrible.”
“I’m the same man you met some six weeks ago.”
“You are not,” she insisted. “You showed me another side of you. One of a good man.”
“No such thing,” he said, turning from her and pacing the room as though he had lost all interest in her now. “I was only trying to convince you I was so that you would continue to invite me to your bed.”
“Stop it,” she said desperately, not wanting to hear his words anymore, which were sullying all that they had built together.
“Stop what? You asked for the truth,” he said cruelly. “And I gave it.”
“This is what you would say to me,” she said, “in the remaining time we have alone together?”
“Why? Do you fancy one more frig?”
She gasped and stepped back from him, for he might as well have struck her.
“You are horrid!”
“I never suggested I was anything otherwise.”
“But you did. The nights you touched me so tenderly, said lovely words to me, told me of yourself and your childhood—”
“What can I say?” he asked smugly, “I’m a skilled liar.”
She turned her back to him now, walking to the window with her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“When will we arrive?”
“It’s nearing nightfall, so we should arrive in a few hours, and then we will wait until dawn, when we will send you to shore,” he said. “Do you want my company tonight?”
“No,” she said curtly, “sleep in your hammock.”
He nodded as though he understood, and for a moment, Penny wondered if she saw something within his expression that spoke to more than he had put into words, but whatever was there quickly fled. Why was he being so cruel to her? She knew that this man was part of him and always would be, but was she such a fool that she had completely imagined that he felt something more for her than he let on?
She must be. For the man staring at her, the one who had made love to her but an hour before, was not showing any of the affection that she had assumed he had developed for her.
Penny was done. With him, with this ship, with all of the pirates in general.
“I will be fine alone,” she said.
“Joey and Aloysius will go with you.”
“I—”
“Don’t argue this. Now get some sleep.”
He made for the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I need to consult with the sailing master and the helmsman,” he said. “I’ll call you when it’s time. Pack the cutlass.”
And with that, he was gone.
Ramsay had felt like a brute before. Now he knew he was a true bastard. When it was time for her to go, he had reached out to help Penny into the life raft, but she had refused his hand, taking Joey’s instead. It was his own fault, yet still, the thought made him burn deep inside.
She kept her head down, pointed toward the bottom of the raft, not allowing him to see her eyes. Everything within Ramsay urged him to call out to her, to tell her that he had made a huge mistake, that she needed to stay and they would find a way to be together, no matter who they were or what lay between them.
But he couldn’t.
The pain that swam in her eyes as he had spoken so harshly toward her had cut him deeply, but he also knew that she was angry with him — and with herself, likely — but she would now remember him with darkness rather than hold onto hope in her heart that anything more would ever come of this.
For he was not the man she could make a life with. Certainly not the man
she deserved. She would find him somewhere. Maybe in Boston. Maybe a sailor on her uncle’s ship.
The thought caused jealousy to nearly tear a hole in him, but he knew he was doing the right thing.
Half of him wished she would look up at him, lock eyes with him one last time. The other half prayed that she wouldn’t, for it might be his undoing.
“Quite a woman, isn’t she?” Bastian joined him at the rail as they watched the life raft hit the water, Joey and Aloysius rowing toward shore just as the sun began to break over the horizon.
“She is,” he said, needing to clear his throat for the words to come out.
“Must have been a difficult decision, sending her away,” Bastian said, not looking at Ramsay, but staring out into the distance. Ramsay should have known that he couldn’t get anything past his quartermaster, who had been with him nearly as long as he had been aboard The Raven’s Wing.
“She was a fool, to stow away on our ship,” he said gruffly. “But a lucky fool, that it was us who found her.”
“That it was you,” Bastian said, finally turning to look at him. “Will you be able to forget her?”
“Of course,” Ramsay said brusquely, flicking his gaze to Bastian ever so briefly. “What other option is there?”
“One for you to be happy,” Bastian said, his gaze upon Ramsay now so intense that Ramsay had to look away. “To do something for yourself for the first time in a very long time.”
“I’m the most selfish man I know,” Ramsay said, watching the boat now until it was nothing but a speck, a tiny toy ship that was just making its way on shore.
Bastian chuckled ruefully. “You tell yourself that,” he said. “But you are far from it. You are the most generous captain I’ve ever come across, and a man who looks out for his crew before himself.”
“I am nothing if I am not a pirate captain.”
“Yes, you are,” Bastian said. “You are a man. She is a woman. A good woman. One who would give you all you asked of her.”
The truth was, she had given him far too much already.
