The Gypsy Witch

by The Gypsy Witch (EReads) (lit)

  "You first. Tell me about your childhood."

  Danielle saw he was going to be persistent. "I had a wonderful childhood. My father treated me more like a son than a daughter and I learned to do all the things boys get to do." There that should shock him.

  Scott looked at the totally feminine form in front of him. There was nothing in her actions that hinted at any masculinity. "What kind of things?"

  Oh, riding astride, shooting on a hunt, learning to fence."

  "Learning to fence? That was most unusual."

  "He was an unusual man." Her face clouded over at the thought she would never see his or her mother’s face again. She raised her head. "Now your turn."

  "As you wish," he saw that she was going to be diligent until her curiosity was satisfied. He took another drink of wine. "What do you want to know?"

  "When did you start a life of a seaman?" she asked. While he talked, she reached over and refilled his glass once again.

  "I was about fifteen I guess," he thought back. "Ricardo was going to leave on a voyage and I wanted to go, too. So he persuaded his captain to take me along. It seems eons ago." Scott once more emptied his tankard.

  "How did you come by your own ship?" she persisted in keeping him talking as she tipped the bottle over his tankard.

  Scott had never been one to talk of his past to anyone and was surprised how easy it came to his tongue when this uncommonly lovely woman asked so casually. "With the idiosyncrasies of the French King it wasn’t hard. England handed out many a letter of Marque to fight the fleet of France."

  "I believe you tease me, Scott. If it were that easy everyone would be a captain. Perhaps you do not know your own worth." Her eyes spoke volumes and she dipped her head to take a sip of water.

  Scott too lifted his glass in silent toast. "I think, my love, you are trying to keep my thoughts from you. It will not work. Nothing could take you from my mind." My heart, my soul, he thought silently.

  "You are foremost in mine also, my pirate." She could say anything tonight, since it was her last. "One more toast, then I promise a night you will never forget."

  What a vixen she was! His loins throbbed at the teasing quality of her voice. He raised his tankard and downed it completely, sitting the empty container on the table. He stood to go around the edge to her side and found his legs not working as well as normal. Luckily she stood to meet him, her arms coming around his neck. She initiated the first kiss, pulling his head down to hers. Filled with passion, she pursued his mouth diligently until he bent and picked her up in his arms. He staggered a little getting to the bed but luckily made it before he dropped her.

  She giggled as she released the buttons on her gown letting it fall unheeded to the floor. Scott stood swaying trying to do the same with his. She reached out and pulled the string for him as he seemed not to be able to make his fingers work.

  "I think, my love, there was too much toasting this night." He slung his shirt aside and stepped out of his pants.

  Danielle welcomed him with open arms. For this one night he was hers… to love with no inhibitions, no regrets, no thoughts on the future. For now it was only Scott Dominion and Danielle Rochette alone in the world.

  Scott’s mouth took possession of hers as he pulled her into a tight embrace. His hands moved sensually over her back and lower to cup her buttocks, pressing her against his maleness, swollen hard with passion.

  Danielle slipped one arm between them to slide down his thigh. She wrapped her fingers around his hardened shaft. He groaned aloud. She wanted to know every inch of him and was bold in her attempts to show him how she cared. He moved between her waiting limbs, one hand finding its way between her legs. He released her mouth to start a volley of feverish kisses down over each breast, teasing her nipples erect with his fiery tongue. On down, his mouth traveled. His tongue dipped into her navel before he continued over the flatness of her stomach to the core of her being. He cupped a rounded buttock in each hand and raised her to meet his moist invasion.

  Danielle groaned and thrashed her head back and forth on her shoulders. Never could she have ever imagined the power of ecstasy building within her. She reached down and clasped his head, her fingers twining in the thickness of his hair. When she felt her body soaring she brought his head back up to her mouth. He had reached his limit of endurance and entered her then, not gently as the last time they had made love but demanding, with power, driving into her deeper and deeper until the world exploded and both knew exquisite release as he filled her with his seed.

  Danielle’s heart slowed and still Scott remained on top of her. She tried to move his head and heard a snore coming from his lips. She smiled and kissed his cheek. She wriggled out from under him and watched as he collapsed on the bed. The wine had done the trick. She heard two bells strike from the helmsman.

  Crawling to the foot of the bed she felt for her clothes she had left folded on the window seat. Not caring if they were wrong side out or not she put them on. She felt her way across the room to the shelf where her jewels and dagger still lay hidden from view. She almost knocked the picture over in her haste but grabbed it and sat it upright before it had made a sound. When she picked up the jewelry her sheathed dagger slipped out and fell to the floor. She stopped and listened. All she heard was the gentle snoring from the side of the bed. She knelt on her hands and knees and tried to find her dagger but to no avail. She would have to leave it behind since she couldn’t locate it. She stood back up and her hand touched the back of the chair and felt the silken sash that the captain always wore around his waist. She tied it around her waist to hold the jewelry. It would be her keepsake in remembrance of the man who had stolen her heart. She silently went to the door. She opened it and looked at the man lying prone on the bed. "I love you, Scott," she whispered and left the cabin, closing the door after her.

  Five

  Danielle looked into the distance. She could see lights, their soft glow a beacon in the night to lead her to her destination. She heard the three bells from the helmsman. It was time to go. She climbed over the bulwark by the larboard sheet anchor and slid down the cable until she could go no further. She hung suspended in midair, the tips of the waves lapping gently at the toes of her bare feet. She let go and her body slipped soundlessly into the rough waters. Icy tentacles of cold surrounded her slender body, gripping her tightly. The frigid waters slapped against her skin, making her gasp. She swallowed a mouthful of the salty brine and began to choke. She coughed violently, struggling to stay afloat, forcing the sea from her lungs as she fought for a breath of air. She listened to see if her cough had raised an alarm. No one stirred above on the deck.

  Danielle turned her back on The Scarlet Eagle and began the slow, steady strokes across St. Mary’s Sound toward the lights she had seen on the shore.

  Danielle had never swam at night before and as the darkness enclosed her she realized how alone she really was. Except for the sound of the waves echoing against the rocks and small islets, the only noise that reached her ears was the sound of her arms slipping through the icy blackness of the sea and her feet breaking the surface with their continuous kicking.

  After being in the salty sea for what seemed an eternity, Danielle’s stomach became an unending ache from swallowing so much fluid. She treaded water for a while to see if she could calm the pain. The swells lifting her up on their crest, then dropping her down into the deep troughs which separated them, did nothing to assuage the ache; though while on the heights of the crest she could still make out the lights, growing larger with their nearness, ahead of her.

  Sheer willpower started her swimming again, her arms felt heavy as she continued to lift them out of the water, one after the other with each agonizing stroke.

  Danielle did not stop to search for the lights again but swam endlessly in the direction she knew them to be. Her legs, now leaden, were cold and numb and she was having a hard time keeping the rhythm of her strokes. She tried to look ahead but could see nothing but da
rkness and water… cold, rough water.

  Determination was the only thing that kept her going. The determination to survive another day. Her strokes carried her forward pulling her weary body ever closer to the lights on the island. Suddenly, beneath her feet, she touched the roughness of sand. She struggled toward shore, dragging her body out of the sea and fell exhausted on the beach. She lay there a crumpled form upon the sand.

  ~ * ~

  Danielle awoke gradually, blinking her eyes to clear her head of sleep. She was in a huge feather bed, the warm down quilts tucked neatly around her. She forced herself to sit up so could look around, confused by her surroundings. She was disoriented and puzzled as to where she was or how she got in this room. A warm fire was crackling in the rock fireplace that completely covered the wall opposite her. The room was large and quite elaborately furnished… and she was alone. She closed her eyes and lay back against the pillows, trying to remember what had happened to bring her to this place.

  Scott’s face came to the forefront of her mind and the fog finally cleared as she recalled the long, hard swim and how she had dragged her exhausted body onto the sandy beach before collapsing… then nothing.

  The heavy oaken door opened and a well-dressed woman with silver hair stepped into the room. "Ah, my dear child. I am so happy to see you are awake at last. I am Lady Elizabeth Dolphin. Welcome to my home." The woman smiled warmly at Danielle before crossing the room to pull the heavy draperies, letting in the bright sunlight from outside.

  Danielle watched as the short, plump woman bustled about adjusting the drapes, straightening the coverlet on the bed, talking all the while, not giving Danielle a chance to introduce herself.

  "I’m sure you must be starved. I will go tell Betsy you are ready to eat now. She is the cook and has been fretting about you terribly. She insists that if one doesn’t eat often that one simply can’t survive." Lady Elizabeth chuckled, looking down at her over endowed frame, then threw her hands in the air in mock despair.

  She looked at the slender young woman sitting on the side of the bed before her. "You are feeling all right, aren’t you, my dear?" She asked suddenly anxious. "I’m sorry I prattle so. My husband, Sir Francis tells me often enough that I never give anyone else a chance to say a word."

  Danielle smiled and thought to herself humorously, she could certainly understand why Sir Francis would say such a thing, but answered while she had the chance. "Yes, Lady Dolphin, I feel fine."

  "Please, dear, you must call me Elizabeth. We are far from the society of London and are very informal here on the island. The dressing room is right through that door and I had warm water brought in for you if you feel like a quick bathe before you break the fast. I also put a few clothes of my daughter’s in the wardrobe for your use. Just make yourself at home and ask for anything you might need."

  "There is something," Danielle interrupted. I had a small package tied around my waist when I landed. Do you happen to know what happened to it?"

  "Certainly, my dear. I personally put it away for you." She walked over to a drawer and opening it, pulled out the familiar bundle. "I can’t imagine what a young woman like yourself would be doing swimming around in ice cold English waters with jewels around her waist like that." The elderly woman gasped and covered her mouth with one hand.

  "I am so sorry!" she apologized. "Sir Francis would be quite upset at me for meddling into something that is not my concern. Please forgive me, my dear."

  "My name is Danielle Rochette," Danielle offered her hand in friendship. "Call me Danielle." Lady Elizabeth took her hand in hers and patted it. "And please do not apologize," Danielle continued. "It isn’t every day you find someone looking like a drowned rat washed up on your beach, I’m sure. It is only normal to be curious. The jewels are mine." She looked at Lady Elizabeth with the clear eyes of truth. "I didn’t steal them or anything, if that is what you may be thinking. They were left to me from my mother and grandmother. I wouldn’t be so worried about them except that they are all I have to live on while I look for a position… and… as to how I got here…"

  Please, Danielle, do not say another word. I am a meddlesome old woman and I refuse to listen to anymore. What must you think of me? I shall see to your meal instead of keeping you here talking. I won’t be long." Before Danielle could assure her that her questions were not resented, she was gone, leaving only the trace of lavender perfume and the faintest sounds of her rustling skirts in her wake.

  How was she going to explain to this dear woman why she must leave the island immediately. She knew Scott would be awake by now and when he didn’t find her, he would probably turn the ship around and come back to this very spot. If he remembered anything from last night’s sodden brain, he would remember Danielle questioning him about it. So she must find a way to leave before he discovered her here.

  Danielle bathed and dressed in a lovely morning gown of pale pink with a wide beige sash, with matching slippers that fit her feet perfectly, and went to join her hostess downstairs. She came into the room and found Lady Elizabeth sitting on the settee weeping. She presented the most pathetic picture of hopelessness.

  Danielle rushed to her side and gathered her into her arms. Some moments later Lady Elizabeth managed to bring her emotions under a small measure of control.

  "It’s Sir Francis! He should have been home two weeks ago and I am so worried something must have happened to him. I know I shouldn’t burden you with this, but if I don’t tell someone I… " She blew her nose into the handkerchief she had been wadding in her hand.

  "Please, Lady Elizabeth. Tell me. I can’t help you unless I know what is making you so upset."

  "You see," she hiccupped between her words. "Sir Francis owns a sailing vessel and every few months he goes to the coast of France to help the Huguenots escape from the dictatorship of King Louis. I live in constant fear that there will come a day when he will not return.

  "The place where he delivers the refugees is always the same and normally, when he arrives there, he sends one of the men on ahead to tell me when he will be arriving home. But this time I received no message! Danielle what am I going to do?" She was gripping the arms of the young woman desperately, staring up into her face with fear and helplessness in her voice.

  Danielle patted the elderly woman’s hands. "I’m sure your husband is well. Maybe he met unexpected weather, or had some problems with his ship. This type of thing cannot be done on an exact time schedule I’m sure." Danielle thought rapidly of what she could do to help. She knew she must leave as soon as possible before Scott came to look for her. And there was no doubt he would come. The two problems finally melded together.

  "Why can’t I travel to this place and find out about Sir Francis myself? Then I could send a message to you." Danielle spoke sincerely.

  Lady Elizabeth sniffed. "Would you mind? I hate to impose but I would feel so much better. And I will finance the entire trip so you would not have to worry. Oh Danielle, maybe it was fate that brought you to me this day!"

  ~ * ~

  Scott woke up, his head pounding , his stomach roiling at the amount of wine he had fed it the night before, and a taste of something dead filled his mouth. He groaned as he sat on the edge of the bed grabbing the chamber pot to hold in front of his mouth. With each spasm, his head hurt worse and he thought for sure it was going to fall off his shoulders. His blood-shot eyes looked around the room. If he felt this bad then Danielle…

  He looked behind him in the bed. It was empty. He searched the room. Her clothes were gone. Had she given up on him to awaken and brazenly went out on the deck without his permission? He groaned and forced himself to rise. Holding his head in one hand he reached for his breeches and tried in vain to put them on with only one hand. Dropping the other from his hammering skull, he finally managed to pull them up over his hips and tie them. Scott, unmindful of his lack of shirt or boots, opened the door and stepped out onto the deck. The sun almost knocked him to his knees. He grasped the edges of
the door and groaned.

  Ricardo was just coming around the corner from the galley when he spied his captain in his agony. He recognized the symptoms immediately. Many times in Scott’s youth he had seen this look previously. He shook his head and chuckled as he moved closer to Scott’s side. "Are you all right, Captain?" His voice was loud on purpose.

  "My God, man, do you have to yell? Can’t you see I’m in pain?" He looked out over the ships rail at the rise and fall of the horizon and immediately felt his stomach twist in agony once more. He made his way as swiftly as possible to the side of the ship and hung his head over the taffrail, loosing whatever else could have been left from the night before.

  Ricardo, enjoying the other’s agony, could not help but to walk up beside him and tease him some more. "Did you and the ‘cabin boy’ imbibe a little too much, my Captain?"

  "Where is she?" Scott croaked. "Is she on deck somewhere?" He looked around but saw her slender form nowhere.

  "Isn’t she in your cabin?" Ricardo asked immediately.

  "No, she is not in my cabin!" Scott roared. The faces of the men nearest the pair turned and stared at the raised voice of their captain. "Would I have asked you where she was if she was there?" He lowered his voice so as not to draw more attention.

  "Scott, calm down. The men are listening. Let’s go back inside, till we make some sense out of this. But I assure you the señorita has not stepped on the deck this morn."

  Scott allowed him to take his arm and pull him back toward his cabin. Once inside Scott sat heavily on the side of the bed, once more holding his head in his hands.

  "Now," Ricardo said, "tell me everything that happened."

  Scott turned his head to open one bleary red-rimmed eye at the first mate.

  "Well, perhaps not everything, but what went on before that point?"

  Scott thought back to the wonderful evening last night. Everything about the little gypsy had been provocative and loving and passionate. Oh, so passionate. He started talking to Ricardo telling him of the house he had told Danielle he was going to buy for them on the coast of England. Where he would see her when he was in port. And the rest of the evening, except for telling her his life story, had been wonderful. In fact she had been the most tantalizing creature he had ever known.