The Gypsy Witch

by The Gypsy Witch (EReads) (lit)

  "You’ve got to do something with those skirts of yours. It’s impossible to fence with you tripping all over the room." He motioned toward the hem, already torn, dragging on the floor.

  In one graceful movement Danielle swept her skirt up with her free hand, cradling several layers of petticoats and dress in the crook of her free arm.

  "How’s this?" she said ignoring his mouth hanging agape and his too obvious interest in the portion of shapely leg exposed by her upheld skirts.

  "Well, if you can’t run them through, you can always win them over with your feminine charms." He grinned lasciviously.

  "Like this?" She smiled wickedly and leaped forward, barely giving him time to parry her thrusting sword as she caught him off guard.

  "Ah, wench," David mocked in cheerful banter. "You would see my blood shed upon this very floor." He sidestepped around her wild, inexperienced fencing.

  "Dog! You die!" Danielle charged fully at him, shrieks of laughter filling the room as she pursued him.

  As the sparing continued on, Danielle could see David far outmatched her at this exercise. She leaped forward and he would parry her thrusting sword. He played with her, sidestepping easily her wild, inexperienced swordplay. They joked back and forth taunting each other as they moved about the room.

  She worked innumerable hours with David on her fencing over the next few days, struggling to achieve the high level of proficiency he demanded. The more she watched him, the more she came to realize his natural ability. Often she found herself admiring his stance and poise rather than concentrating on her lessons. It wasn’t an infatuation thing, it was just giving justice where it was due.

  David stepped back and lowered his sword. "You’re never going to be good enough! And if a ship overtakes us, your sword hand is most important! I can’t be trying to fight my own battle and have to worry about you being skewered beside me. After all you’re just a woman and women were not meant to do this type of thing!" He snapped at her angrily.

  Danielle felt her temper rise from somewhere deep inside of her. She lost all thought of anything except that her opponent had acted like women were useless. She came at David in such a fit of fury, he barely had time to bring his sword up into play.

  The swords clashed together ferociously. Danielle saw an opening and brought her sword across his arm. The sight of the bright red oozing onto his white shirt brought her back to her senses. Quickly she dropped the sword, rushing to his side. She was startled that she could have lost all reason to injure him.

  David smiled. "Don’t worry, it’s nothing but a small scratch. I think, Danielle…" he said sincerely, "…that you are a rare woman indeed. I’ll be proud to call you captain." He saluted her in mock formality.

  She saw the mischief shining out of his blue eyes. "You tricked me on purpose to make me angry, didn’t you?" she accused.

  "Well, perhaps I did. Otherwise you would have taken a year, and still not parried with the correct defense. It was a quick lesson. Not only for you, but also for me. I’ll think twice before I anger you so again, Danielle." He smiled down into her upturned face as she wrapped his handkerchief around the wound, in a makeshift bandage.

  He lifted one of her hands and brought it to his mouth, kissing her fingers tenderly before turning it over to place a kiss against her palm.

  Danielle quickly stepped away from him, pulling her hand from his. She looked him straight in the eye so he would be sure to understand.

  "David… I must tell you something." Danielle began. How could she explain what Scott meant to her?

  "Never mind, Danielle," David interrupted, brushing away her unspoken words with a wave of his hand. "You need not say another word. I can see it in your eyes. Don’t worry, I won’t force myself upon you. God knows you’re a beauty, and it’s true you tempt me sorely, but there are many others who think much better of me than you. And I’ll be damned if I’d trade a hundred of their less than perfect bodies so full of warmth, and eagerness to please, for your cold perfection." He turned on his heel and strode down the beach.

  Danielle watched his straight back moving off away from her with angry strides. She smiled to herself. Well, he took that well.

  ~ * ~

  Sir Francis, safe at home on St. Mary’s with his beloved Elizabeth, had not seen the reformation of his protégé. But Danielle felt confident he would have been less fearful if he had been able to see the end result. Even David was forced to admit, albeit grudgingly, to her mastery of the weapons.

  Today Danielle was to leave on her first voyage to France. The first of many successful rescues, she hoped. She stood in front of the mirror that adorned Scott’s bedroom wall and examined herself. She looked a young man of indeterminable wealth in her finery. Jenny had done a perfect job of refitting Scott’s clothes to Danielle’s petite figure, even though they had to be cut down tremendously. Her black pantaloons were tucked neatly into calf-high boots. The boots of course, Sir Francis had insisted on buying for her from a cobbler in the village, since no man had such small feet. Scott’s red sash was tied around her waist. Her loose fitting coat was of fine broadcloth, the style carefully cut, hiding her feminine curves underneath it. Her hair had been cut off at her shoulders and pulled back at the nape of her neck in a leather thong. The finishing touch was a black felt hat with a white ostrich plume rising above its broad brim. Danielle herself, had to look closely to tell if it was really her. Confident that she could fool almost anyone, Danielle hurried to the drawing room, anxious to show Jenny and David the newest member of their crew, Captain Dan Rochette! She stopped just outside the door to get her thoughts in order. She forced a stern look on her face then entered the room thinking nothing except being and looking like a young man..

  "My God!" David exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He circled her slowly, his eyes traveling over her, taking in ever detail. "I can’t believe it!" he said in awe. "What a difference! If I didn’t know a woman was beneath that disguise I would never guess." He clicked his heels together and bowed at his waist. "At your service, my captain," he finished crisply.

  Jenny laughed gleefully. "Danielle, you are fantastic! You even walked into the room with a masculine swagger!" She glanced at the short hair tied behind her neck. "If only we could have saved that beautiful hair," Jenny shook her head as she sighed. "Such a shame!"

  "Don’t worry, Jenny." Danielle replied smiling at her friend. "When this is all over and I quit being a captain, I will let it grow again." She turned to David and spoke in her gruffest voice, a twinkle showing plainly in her eyes.

  "Come, Mr. Fitzwater, let’s be off. Captain Dan Rochette is ready to see his ship!"

  "Aye, aye," David answered, his pride a little bruised by the fact that he must now take orders from a woman. "After you, Captain Rochette."

  As they walked down the beach David found some satisfaction in the fact that she would be captain in name only. "Remember, Danielle, since you have never sailed before, we must stand close together so I can tell you what orders to give the men. It is a tricky business under the best conditions and God only knows what we will meet with on the open sea."

  Danielle nodded in understanding and continued walking, her steps more determined than ever, toward the waiting longboat.

  As they arrived at the harbor, David and Danielle were greeted by two seamen waiting to transport their new captain out to the ship.

  Although Danielle presented an outward calmness, her insides quaked. Could she do it? Could she fool these experienced seamen who had met many a captain in their day?

  David stepped forward to greet the men. "Mates, this is our temporary captain, Dan Rochette. He will take Sir Francis’ place while he is recovering."

  Danielle waited with bated breath for their reaction. She felt her body ease from the strain as both men saluted her and the taller of the two spoke with a Scottish brogue.

  "Glad to ‘ave ye aboard, sir."

  She tried to move as manly as possible, planting herself in the bow o
f the longboat. Well, the worst was over, and it seemed as though they would get away with it. The men were fooled!

  Seven

  In four months time The Scarlet Eagle captured and sank several French vessels. The booty was more than rewarding as the French ships had been loaded down with riches and finery for their demonic king. The losses to The Scarlet Eagle were minimal so that Scott’s wealth had grown immensely in these past few months.

  He stood on the gently rolling quarterdeck, staring blankly out over the bobbing waves. He thought of all the things his wealth could buy. He dreamed of what it would be like to build a fine manor near the home of his mother, on a hill, in full view of the sea. He could live there with the woman that filled his thoughts so much and they could raise their family, sharing the rest of their days together. He would sail the seas no more, but instead would buy a couple of ships of his own and hire captains to sail them for him.

  He thought of the tall sons that would carry on in his name. Perhaps they would be captains of his vessels. His sons, he mused. What would they be like? Tall and rugged as he, of course, but perhaps they would have hair black as night, black as Danielle’s on their heads, and the fiery proudness in their souls that fueled Danielle’s very being. If he could just find her.

  He was jolted out of his dreaming by the unmistakable slow-rolling boom of gunfire. He turned. "Ricardo?"

  "Aye, Scott. I hear it, too."

  "Crack on all sail!" Scott ordered. He started roaring orders that set the men running in feverish haste to obey his commands. He heard the capstan clank and men swarmed into the rigging, chanting as they made more sail. Still others carried up powder and ball, passing out weapons for the ranks.

  As they closed upon the battle, the last rays of sunset revealed a small sleek ship, riding low in the water, being attacked by a French ship of the line. Scott’s nostrils flared. Not only could he help the small ship, but at the same time rid the world of a few more Frenchmen. Scott’s men, already at their stations, needed no urging. Without the aid of Scott and his men, the little vessel was doomed. Her light guns would not be able to dent the heavy timbers of the French ship. What’s more, the small vessel could be carrying some valuable cargo and the grateful captain may be inclined to share it. Scott knew that quite soon the small ship would be forced to surrender without his aid.

  Like a great bird of prey The Scarlet Eagle swept down upon the battle. As his guns came to bear, Scott concentrated his fire on that of the French ship’s rigging. With two broadsides, The Scarlet Eagle demasted the French ship leaving it wallowing sluggishly in the water. Scott’s crew swarmed over the sides, subduing the few men still able to fight and began the labor of bringing any spoils topside. While they were thus engaged the small vessel slid to the opposite side of The Scarlet Eagle. Scott could not plainly see the name painted on the side of it.

  The Gypsy Witch came alongside Scott’s ship and its men started coming aboard to thank him for the rescue. Involved in the general chaos of the crews yelling greetings to each other, he didn’t notice the captain of the small vessel until his men stepped back, letting him join Scott.

  Danielle, having been forewarned by the scarlet banner of the rescuing ship, was in a nervous turmoil. Her men had expected her to take part in thanking the other captain. And she herself could not have stopped herself from wanting to gaze upon him one more time. Her heart quickened as she prayed her disguise would hold. She watched a path clear until she was face to face with Captain Scott Dominion. He was every bit as handsome, even more so than she remembered. She noticed a few new wrinkles at the edge of those wonderful green eyes. Their glances locked as she moved before him, offering him her hand.

  He knew immediately who she was. His heart hammered against his chest and he immediately began to harden. No one but Danielle had that fine regal bearing about her. He noticed everything about her including her manly dress without losing eye contact. He reached out and clasped her hand tightly. The men of both crews yelled their approval.

  She knew he recognized her in the way he held her hand. The sensual way his eyes drank in her face was also a telling feature. After the initial tightening, his thumb had rubbed slowly over the back of hers bringing a warmth from her toes to her stomach. While the noise level raised around them so no one could overhear, Danielle spoke. "Hello, my pirate." Those three words meant more to him than she could have imagined.

  Scott still held her hand. A smile of which had not crossed his face in a long time, filled her vision. "My little gypsy," he spoke in return. Both had used the word ‘my’ without realizing it. Then Scott remembered where they were and what she had been doing when he rescued her.

  An angry frown now creased his forehead. "What the hell do you think you’re doing? My God, Danielle. Don’t you see the danger! What if my ship hadn’t been within striking distance? You could have been killed or captured by the French and been killed later. You have some explaining to do and you will start now!" His voice had not raised in volume but the demand was there.

  "It’s nice to see you too, pirate. Still as demanding as ever I see." She smiled, her eyes roving over his face, soaking every curve into her memory for safekeeping. "But what I do is not your concern!"

  "I’m making it my concern!" Did she have no thought what she was doing? Just thinking about her ending up at the bottom of the sea, or at the end of some Frenchman’s sword point made his jaw harden.

  "I’m waiting! Or do you want me to make a scene in front of your men." He raised an eyebrow at her,

  "You wouldn’t dare!" she snapped, looking over her shoulder to see what the rest of the crew were doing.

  "I think I told you once that I was very daring indeed. You seem to have forgotten." He reached out, removing the hat that hid her shining hair and threw it on the deck of the ship. With strong arms he pulled her tight against his chest. He had her so tightly wrapped in his embrace she could not move. Slow amusement caused the corners of his mouth to curve upward. He heard the gasp of the men surrounding them. He looked up at the puzzlement in their faces.

  As his mind cleared enough to realize what they were thinking, he threw back his head and laughed out loud, never relinquishing his secure hold on Danielle.

  "Don’t worry mates, this little baggage is every inch a woman, no matter what she has led you to believe."

  Two seasoned crewmen stood against the rail. "The captain’s a woman? Can you believe she fooled us all?" cackled Jacob, shaking his head.

  "Aye," Angus McDonald mumbled next to him. "‘Tis a crying shame."

  Scott looked over Danielle’s shoulder and noticed a young man with blonde hair standing a short distance behind her, a look of intense dislike in his eyes.

  David started across the deck, his anger boiling inside him. An elbow caught him in the side knocking his breath out of him. He turned to take on the man that had shoved him and saw a Spaniard scowling at him. His arms were folded and a musket barrel was showing beneath an elbow.

  "Steady young fellow. I wouldn’t want you to try to spoil the reunion."

  For a split second Scott wondered what interest this Englishman had in Danielle. He would show the stranger in actions that she belonged to no one but him. He dismissed the other man from his mind as he bent his head and covered her mouth with his.

  Such ecstasy to be in his tight embrace once more. His mouth was flaming against her lips rekindling the banked fires within her, waiting for his touch. She gladly opened her lips to allow his tongue to explore the depths of her. Her arms slid up his chest to pull his head down for her to entangle her fingers through his hair. The whistles and loudly voiced remarks brought her rapidly to her senses. She wrenched herself backward, breaking his grasp.

  Scott stared at her. He knew he had embarrassed her in front of her men, but he cared not a whit what either crew was thinking. All he cared about was the woman before him. He noticed for the first time the black lash of the coiled whip laying diagonally across one shoulder, resting betwe
en the firm, smooth breasts that he knew were hidden beneath her loose fitting coat.

  "No, Scott! You shame me in front of my men!" She knew she had also shamed herself for the way she reacted to the muscular man in front of her.

  He took a step toward her. "I don’t care what your men think! I have searched everywhere for you, Danielle. You will not get away this time!"

  She backed up another step. "Keep your distance, pirate," she warned.

  Scott looked at her, seeing her young figure, soft, gracefully curving even in men’s attire; her hair, much shorter now, shining almost blue-black in the reflection of the setting sun about her shoulders, her eyes casting fire from their depths were all the more inviting because of her fury.

  "I think not, my love," he answered, grinning devilishly. "I’ve kept away too long." He stepped toward her.

  Her slim hand now darkened by the sun reached up to grasp the handle on the whip wrapped around her shoulder. She slipped it down, out of its evil coil, letting it play threateningly along the deck.

  Her disguise which had started as a charade against the crew was now at an end. But her ability as ‘Captain’ had been proven many times over. And the men without exception looked to her as their leader. Her crew leaned against the rail, grinning, waiting. They had seen this young captain, be she female or male, use that same whip before and knew that if she desired, she could now cut the captain of The Scarlet Eagle to ribbons. The talent lay in not stripping the flesh from the man’s bones and the choice was in her hands.

  Jacob nudged the man next to him. "My money’s on the little one."

  "Aye. The Dominion, poor lad, hasn’t a clue what our lass could do to him." Angus watched the proceedings with relish.

  Scott moved closer. The lash, whistling through the air, found its mark, curling about his bare arm. When she drew it away, a fine red welt shone plainly against his unbroken bronze skin. Scott did not flinch or bother to look down. He advanced toward her, his steps never faltering, until Danielle was forced to retreat.