The Gypsy Witch

by The Gypsy Witch (EReads) (lit)

"Yea or nay?" she put the question.

  "Nay," he whispered hoarsely, admitting defeat.

  With a flick of her wrist she loosed the whip allowing it to slither down his body to the floor as a reminder of its deadly power.

  His pride clearly wounded as much as his body, he slunk away, a beaten animal.

  Expertly she recoiled the whip, turning to smile at Scott. He came across the floor without stopping, grabbed her arm and marched her through the opening to the darkness outside. He didn’t stop until he had walked her around the edge of the building. When he at last quit walking it was to yank her against his chest bringing his mouth over hers in a savage rape of her senses. He sucked the breath right out of her and she clung to him, her mouth, opening willingly for his invasion.

  Even though he held her so tight against him she could not breath, her arms around his neck pulled him closer and his mouth came over hers again and again. Finally he raised his head, his breathing labored and his heart beat rapidly near her ear resting on his chest.

  "When I saw The Gypsy Witch at anchor I just about went wild trying to find you. I was about to give up hope and storm your ship."

  Danielle straightened away from him. "My God! I forgot!" she reached out and slapped at his chest "When I’m near you, Scott, I can’t think straight. I have got to find The Gypsy Witch and warn them of a trap. Can you show me where they are?"

  "Don’t you know where they are? You’re losing me, Danielle, please explain."

  "I don’t sail her anymore. I can explain later, but first you must take me to her." She was dragging him back out from the darkened alley. He wasn’t moving. He was just staring down at her in total confusion.

  Finally what she had been trying to tell him sunk in and he started walking rapidly down toward the wharves. She kept up with him only by almost running. He still held her hand and was not going to release her, she decided warmly. In a few minutes they were next to the dock where the longboat with David Fitzwater and a couple of the crew were just getting in it for their trip out to the ship.

  "David! Wait!" Danielle started to run over to him, but Scott held her back beside him, his grip on her hand granting no refusal.

  David looked up and saw the two of them and recognized Danielle’s voice immediately. He stepped back onto the beach.

  He stood waiting for them to approach. "Danielle. Captain." He barely nodded in Scott’s direction. He still didn’t think he liked the man. He faced Danielle and saw her anxious expression. "What’s the matter, Danielle? Why are you here? Is it Susanna?"

  "David, you can’t go tonight! It’s a trap. The French will be waiting for you." She finished explaining everything Jenny had told her without mentioning her name in front of her son. "But Susanna is fine, except for worrying that I would not get here in time to catch you."

  "Now that she is expecting, I hated to leave her alone. "

  Danielle laughed at the anxious father-to-be. Her fears were gone since she had given the word and knew they would not leave the English coast. "It’s only been one day since you left," she teased. "But do not worry, David, she was in good health." She reassured him patiently. Since his marriage to Susanna, he had become a different man and now that she was expecting their first child, he worried over her constantly.

  "My, God, Danielle. You caught us just in time. We were catching the tide within the hour. I must go tell Sir Francis. Are you going back to the cove?"

  "Yes, I have your horse. I will see you there."

  He nodded to her, then gave a slight nod to Scott and stepped into the longboat. Danielle stood and watched as the rowers bent their backs to the chore of rowing them out to the ship. Scott squeezed her hand and brought her attention back full force.

  "You have some explaining to do, Danielle. And you will not leave my sight until I know everything!" His voice was harsh. "First, you’re on the land, then you’re a captain of a ship rescuing Huguenots, then I spend months looking for you and I find you here. And you rode a horse to get here. What the hell is going on?" He kept up his tirade as he pulled her back to the main road that the pub was on. He continued on until he entered a small inn.

  Danielle didn’t bother to interrupt. She knew if she waited until his anger was gone, she would be able to explain. She loved listening to the sound of his voice roaring above her head. That and the feel of his strong hand holding hers made her feel somehow like she had found her way home.

  His steps didn’t falter and he led her up some stairs until he had her shut in a room with the door closed. Still clasping her hand, he pulled her back against him, this time slowly. He put his palm against the side of her face and stared down at the beautiful woman who had won his heart. He drank his fill of each and every feature before lowering his mouth once more over hers in a sweet caress. He was always in such a rush to have her, this time he would take his time and cherish every second of their time together. She was so unpredictable, he didn’t know when he’d open his eyes and see she was gone from him once again. But not this time. He would not let her leave until he knew everything and where he could find her on the morrow. But first he had a hunger to assuage.

  Danielle opened his mouth with her tongue. She twisted his with hers in a dance of passion. She didn’t want him to wait. She wanted him right now. Why was he not undressing them yet? She put her hands beneath his shirt splaying them across his bare chest, the muscles firm beneath her palms. She moved her hips up against his thighs, feeling his hardened erection at her waist.

  Scott lifted her until the junction of the legs met. He cupped her buttocks hard against him and groaned deep in his throat. He slowly slid her body down till her feet once more touched the floor. Without removing his lips from hers he started to undress.

  Danielle immediately copied his movements. Their lips finally had to separate to remove their shirts and the rest of their clothing, but the rapidity of it all pleased her immensely, before she could feel him naked against her.

  He lifted her in his arms and went directly to the bed, laying her gently on it before he covered her with his body. His arms crushed her against him. "Danielle," he groaned. His breath against her neck scorching her.

  Danielle moved her hands down his back and opened her legs for his entrance. Still he didn’t enter her. She moved her hips against his arousal moaning his name. She was going to explode if he didn’t do something.

  Scott shook with the intensity of his emotions. Damn! He couldn’t take it slow. He pulsated with the need of her. He entered her then, swift and deep. She scratched at his shoulders, pulling him nearer. She wrapped her legs around his waist, tightening him inside her. His hips took on an involuntary motion of their own, rising and falling against her, with increasing speed. Danielle threw her head back in abandon and screamed his name as his release came with hers and the heavens exploded around them. He didn’t have the strength to move. He lay there still inside her, braced on his elbows so as not to crush her, for long moments. Gradually their breathing slowed and the natural euphoria of lovers enveloped them.

  Danielle giggled.

  Scott rolled over on his side, his arm thrown over her waist. "And what is so funny, my sweet?"

  She turned and faced him, her smile hypnotizing him. "I was just thinking. If our passions keep increasing like they have been, we won’t be able to get our clothes off the next time."

  "Then we just won’t wear any." He bent and kissed the tip of her nose. "I like the idea of you locked in a room with no clothes on. Maybe after fifty years or so, I could allow you short reprieves"

  "Still demanding, I see," she chided.

  "You’re the only woman I want to demand. Yet you don’t follow orders very well. How long ago did you quit sailing?"

  "About a year ago. I’m shore bound forever now." She would not tell him about his son. Yet. She wanted him to be at Lizard Point when she showed him the baby.

  "And where do you live?" He had to know where to find her.

  "In the cove by your mother
."

  He sat straight up in bed. "Really!" The thought warmed him that she was there. "How is she and that old seafarer she’s married to? I miss the old rascal."

  "They’re both fine, and they miss you, too." She looked at his face and drank in his handsome features. "When will you come home, Scott?"

  The words were barely a whisper yet he heard them loud and clear.

  He bent and kissed her mouth with tenderness. "I will make you a promise as long as you give me your word, you will be there waiting for me."

  "I’ll be there." she didn’t hesitate. "And when you come home, I have a surprise waiting for you." His son.

  "A promise?"

  Danielle only smiled at him and nodded. He knew that was all she was going to say, so didn’t press her.

  "I have word of a ship loaded with new treasurers for the French king’s coffers. I leave tomorrow to go after it. Once that is done, I’m coming home for good. Then we’re going to make plans about our future, Danielle."

  "Then we have a future, pirate?" She was feeling all warm inside.

  "Oh, yes. We definitely have one, gypsy."

  "Scott, I won’t be your mistress!" Danielle blurted it out. She had wanted to tell him that for so long and now she had. She would not except half measures. She would have all of him or nothing.

  "Mistress! I should think not! You would have been my wife by now, if I ever got to keep you around long enough." He pulled her closer to his side, needing to feel her body next to his.

  "But you never asked me to marry you," she felt suddenly angry. "What’s more you have never even told me whether you love me or not! How was I to know? Damn, pirate, you are aggravating!"

  He laughed out loud. She was right. He could never keep his mind straight when they were together. All he could ever think about was getting her into bed and the sooner the better. He put his hand on her cheek, turning her face to look him straight in the eye.

  "I love you more than life itself, Danielle. Will you marry me?"

  She screeched and threw herself on top of him. "Oh, God, I love you too, and the answer is yes… yes… yes!" She covered his face with kisses until he grabbed her face and held it still so his lips could cover hers. Passion came uninhibitedly to the two ecstatic lovers. Their loving was sweet, sincere, and full of promise for the future.

  The sun was rising by the time they closed their eyes and slept, exhausted from their lovemaking. Yet both had smiles on their faces in their slumber.

  Scott woke first and kissed Danielle on the back of her neck before he jumped quickly out of bed and began to dress.

  Danielle rolled over, her eyes still blurry from lack of sleep. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

  "I have something to take care of, then I will be right back with breakfast. Don’t get up. I like having you naked in my bed." He bent and kissed her and went out the door.

  Danielle smiled. She yawned and leaned back against her pillow. Her happiness from the night before engulfed her. He loved her and wanted to marry her. She smiled, cuddled beneath the blanket and dozed back off.

  She was awakened by the door opening. It was Scott with a tray of food. She rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked around the floor for her clothes. Her shirt was tossed on a chair, her pants were thrown on the floor, her red sash was on the foot of the bed. They had been in a hurry last night. She stood and started to dress.

  "Oh, love, must you?" Scott teased looking sad.

  Danielle laughed and finished tying the drawstring on her breeches. "There is no way you cannot be deeply satisfied, you randy seaman!"

  He had set the tray on the table and came across the floor, wrapping his arms around her. "Shall I prove you wrong, my sweet? I’ll never have enough of you."

  Danielle laughed joyously. "I think I need nourishment first at least." She went to see what food he had brought them.

  They both sat down and made short work of the fare.

  Scott leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. "Now, I have one more thing I want you to do before I catch the afternoon tide."

  She raised her eyebrow at him in question.

  "I want you to marry me, before I leave. I don’t want to wait any longer, Danielle. I need to know you’re mine." He watched her eyes mist over as she blinked back tears. Did she have any idea what she did to him? This little bit of fiery woman was his whole life. One more run and he would fill her days with joy, her nights with passion and her arms with children. They would never be separated again.

  Ten

  Four bells sounded, signifying the arrival of dawn, as Scott arose to dress in his warm clothes and rain slicker. The Channel had been covered with fog and rain the last few days. "Damn fog and rain," Scott said, cursing under his breath at the foul weather. They had hove-to in a cove to wait out the dense fog that had settled in for the night and all he wanted was to be home with Danielle. When he’d left her a month ago, he’d been hoping to be back home by now. Instead, here he was, delayed by bad weather.

  Still swearing, he stepped out on the weather deck and climbed up to where the officer of the watch stood waiting to give his reports.

  "All’s well, Capt’n There seems ta’ be a seaward breeze liftin’ and the blarsted soup looks ta’ be a movin’. Should a’ shake the men out, sir, sos’ we can set sail?"

  "Aye," the captain slapped him resoundingly on the shoulder. "It would be good reasoning to get the hell out of here before the French catch us with our sails down."

  The mate hurled an order to the deck below and seconds later some of the hands were pouring into the rat-lines, while others weighed the anchor.

  Scott raised his scope and scanned outward, trying to penetrate the enveloping mists. He could see far enough to navigate the shoals, but not much further.

  With shortened canvas, the craft started to move slowly toward the entrance of the cove, soundlessly, like a phantom ship.

  Then, as if by some pre-arranged agreement, the fog lifted like a curtain to expose the coming drama, for about five leagues away in full canvas a large, French man o’ war was on a direct intersecting course.

  A shout came from all look-outs simultaneously while Scott’s glass focused on the distant craft.

  James, the new first mate, peered out over the water and said almost casually, "We’ve ‘ad it, Capt’n. She’s a bran’ spankin’ new seventy-four gunner like Le Superbe. Most likely sport’n the French thirty-six pounders an’ wi’ us stuck wi’ only twenty-fours. Why, Capt’n, one bleedin broadside from ‘er, while side on will blow us…"

  Scott looked grimly at his first mate. "Thanks for your confidence. I am well aware of her capabilities, now if you will kindly sound the beat to quarters, I’ll work out a plan to keep her from crossing our path." God he wished Ricardo was still here.

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  While watching the other ship driving down on them, Scott was barely aware of the shouts of his men and the groaning of the cannon as they were run out, spiked into place and coined into firing position. His full attention was given to taking stock of the possible maneuverability’s of the French ship. She was like Le Superbe. It could very well be her sister ship Le Guerre he had heard so much about lately. In fact it probably was the Le Guerre. These two ships were both new to the French fleet and they were known to be the fastest of the line at the time.

  Scott also knew that his own ship could never outrun her because the French ship had the angle and the wind in their favor.

  "Well," he mused aloud. "At least I’ll have the satisfaction of taking a lot of those French scum with me!" With a plan forming in his mind he turned to the bosun.

  "Bring her to starboard twenty degrees."

  The man at the helm looked at him in disbelief.

  "Now, damn your hide!"

  "But beggin’ the Captain’s pard’n. That’ll take us head on into the French." The look on Scott’s face was enough to convince the man and the whipstaff turned for a new course.
The men jumped to adjust the sails.

  The captain turned his attention to the gunners below, standing quietly by their cannons. Even the men spreading sand to keep them from slipping in their own blood, stopped, feeling the shifting deck. All attention was on their leader.

  Scott forced himself to relax and slowly walked to the foreword quarter deck rail and looked upon the expectant faces.

  "Six pieces of gold coin to the first man who draws blood on the deck of the Frenchman!" With that he flashed them a broad grin that brought a hearty cheer.

  A distant boom brought their attention once more to the business at hand, followed by a geyser of water about two hundred meters in front of The Scarlet Eagle.

  "A single cannon," mused Scott. "They’re checking the distance and windage."

  It seemed an eternity before the two ships drew close enough for him to execute his plan. The other ship’s bow cannons reached out with constant firing having no effect on The Scarlet Eagle with the exception of a few holes in the sails on the fore topmast.

  Through his glass he could plainly see the men working the guns. Lowering it, he shouted to his officer of the gunnery.

  "Prepare to fire as your guns come to bear, Mr. Smythe!" Then he glanced over his shoulder to the helmsman. "Be ready to come to larboard one hundred sixty degrees for firing, then starboard one hundred and twenty degrees, full into the wind."

  "Aye, aye, Captain."

  "Top men aloft, mate!"

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  Scott watched the approaching ship for signs of maneuvering but the French man o’ war continued to bear down on them at its present course… closer… closer.

  "Fire!" Bellowed the gunnery officer and the fighting English ship shuddered with the simultaneous explosions from the mouths of the cannons, hurling hundreds of pounds of iron and sending the acrid odor of burnt powder drifting over the deck.

  With one foot wrapped around the ratlines, Scott watched the trajectory of his shot. He shouted aloud as water spouts appeared around the Frenchman’s bow and the foremast crumpled over amidst a shower of flying splinters.