She heard someone arrive and then hushed conversing outside of the closed door of the parlor. It was quiet for a while and Gemma listened to the footsteps around the house. There were more sounds from the birds outside than inside the structure.
“Mademoiselle Montague,” a man said entering the parlor. His dove-gray silk clothes and large white curled wig signified his importance. Gemma assumed that this man was the Governor. “I understand you require assistance to return to Europe.”
“Yes,” she said rising out of the chair and curtseying. “I have been subjected to some very unfortunate events.”
“Taken by pirates,” he filled in. He had the haughty expression of someone titled. It was the same expression one came across in England as well. “Let me introduce myself, I am Marquis de Champigny, at your service. You are lucky to have escaped, and seemingly unharmed.” His eyes seemed to bore into her. Gemma got the feeling he was considering her, perhaps trying to determine if she was a genuine well-bred lady in need or something else entirely.
“I have been lucky in that respect.”
“It seems, there is a ship sailing for Brest this morning. We can see if there is room to convey you. From Brest it should not be difficult to secure passage to London. I am sure you will find someone who will agree to have your family compensate your passage.” Gemma nodded, hoping her faith in her family was true. “Monsieur Guyer will take you to the port when the time comes. Do you require refreshment?”
“Something to eat would be immensely welcome.”
“Of course,” the man said with a slight bow. She could tell that he was a shrewd man and she was thankful that he didn’t dwell on the dramatics of the situation. Exhaustion made her waver slightly as he retreated from the room, but she was too nervous to sleep. At least until she was settled in a cabin and on her way back to Europe.
Her introduction to Captain Auhenue was enabled by the Governor’s clerk a few hours later. They crossed the gangway onto the large merchant ship dodging all the activity at the ship’s side where cargo was still being loaded by large hemp nets.
“I am sorry to hear of your distress, Mademoiselle,” the Captain said and Gemma thanked him while trying to keep herself steady as the ship moved to accommodate the weight of the cargo lifted into the vessel. Her exhaustion likely made the instability more noticeable as well. “A cabin has been made available for you if you would follow the boy here.” He waved a young boy forward—too young to serve in the military, but not too young to serve on a ship. A thought of James’ forced service entered her mind, but she dismissed it. The world was not always a kind place and she missed the life she’d led where the injustice and cruelty of the world were kept at a distance.
Her cabin was small, but comfortable. She was safe and well, and she was on her way home. Too tired to think more, she sank into the cot and slept.
James woke with a start. He knew instinctively that something was wrong and it took him a moment to realize that Gemma wasn’t there. He quickly pulled on his breeches then forcefully pulled open the door to the cabin. His men were going about their morning duties when he stormed bare chested and barefoot onto the deck.
“Where is she?” He feared that she’d been stolen away in the night.
“The girl?” one of the men asked. “She’s with you.”
“She’s not.”
“Perhaps she went ashore. We haven’t seen her this morning.”
James knew in his gut that she hadn’t just wandered ashore for her own amusement. Gemma was too scared of the inhabitants to wander off unguarded. He also reasoned that she hadn’t been stolen away; he would have woken if someone had come into his cabin. The only conclusion he could reach was that she’d snuck away on her own, and she was too clever to do so without knowing what her next step would be. No, she had a plan.
“Search the township for her,” he ordered, but he knew she wouldn’t be there. Sailing was not her skill, he recalled, but he wondered if she was proficient enough to sail a small boat away on her own. “Check for missing boats as well.”
Returning to his cabin, treating the door roughly as he shut himself away. His sense of panic had given way to annoyance and now anger. He’d promised her that he’d return her and she hadn’t taken him at his word, which annoyed him. Instead, she’d stolen away in the night like a thief. Actually, as he’d stolen her in a roughly similar manner. It bothered him that she doubted his word. He’d had no immediate plans of returning her, but that was beside the point. He would have got around to it, but she hadn’t given him the benefit of a doubt. He recognized his own hypocrisy, but again, that was not the point.
She’d deceived and bettered him again. He almost had to chuckle with the irony of it all. Of course this could not be tolerated, for the reason that it just couldn’t, but also because he wasn’t done with her. He’d had some handsome and wanton wenches in his time, but none really compared to the complete surrender that Gemma had rendered. His loins tightened thinking back on her body and how she’d reacted to his touch.
She must have known her plan the previous evening, which made it much more deviant. She’d made love to him, given of herself in a complete and selfless manner while knowing she was stealing away only a few hours later. He was the pirate, but she was capable of deception much more cutting than he could ever manage. It could not be tolerated. He wanted to punish her, needed to punish her. He could not let this pass.
He tried to think of the plan she would concoct. It was too far to sail on a small boat anywhere but St. Pierre, which meant she would sail on a French ship. The course of action before him was clear. He was faster and more cunning, and he was prepared this time. Even if she took control of the ship and they battled again, he was wary of her now and he would not fail again.
Gemma woke suddenly to now familiar frantic activity and yelling outside her small cabin. She knew in her gut exactly what was going on—they were preparing for siege. No, no, no, her panicked mind repeated over and over again. It was him, he’d found her and he was coming.
She rushed out of the cabin and up to the deck. Looking back, she saw his ship approaching behind them, gaining steadily. Sailors were running around trying to prepare the ship, but they didn’t have the defences to win an attack unless they were very lucky. This was a merchant ship, not a man-o-war—they didn’t stand a good chance.
The Captain was pacing the upper deck, surveying the advancing ship. She could see his nervous tension as he paced back and forth, intermittently viewing the distant ship through his spyglass.
Not knowing what to do, Gemma felt scared and guilty as they were coming under attack because of her. How stupid had she been to think she would get away? She felt paralyzed with indecision. Perhaps she would hide, but she knew he would search the ship. He’d come this far, he wouldn’t just sail by and give up if he didn’t spot her.
She was supposed to be safe on a French ship as their agreement forbade attacks on French vessels and he was breaking it.
The pirate ship was only getting closer and there was no resolution to this problem in sight.
“He’s signalling,” one of the sailors yelled from the rigging. Gemma turned to see the Captain seek the pirate ship again through his spyglass, having no idea what he could be signalling. Turning back, she could see the fearful expressions of the other passengers. Somehow she’d forgotten the terror that James produced through the course of his profession. And it was all her fault.
“What’s unfolding?” an older woman yelled. “Are they pirates?” Gemma could hear the terror in the woman’s voice and wanted to reassure her that the pirates they were about to face were not terror-inducing monsters, but then she also knew that he was vengeful. He’d sailed the Atlantic the last time she’d upset him.
The crew ignored her as they ran around and Gemma went to stand by the older woman. If nothing else, she’d plead for the safety, if not release, of the people on this ship—it was her he was after. She didn’t think he would be cr
uel enough to hurt these people because he was angry with her, but then she didn’t know absolutely for certain—perhaps she’d been too close to see his character outside of the cabin they’d shared.
They weren’t preparing for a fight, Gemma noted. They had some cannons, but they weren’t readying to fire. The Captain was conferring with his masters as James’ ship loomed down on them. In fact, they had slowed down.
Gemma felt her heart beat even faster as his ship moved closer. She could see James standing on the side of the quarterdeck. He was a fearsome sight and she couldn’t help her breath catching at how handsome he looked. He looked every part the pirate; his white shirt rippling in the breeze and his scabbard at his side. Then chided herself for her own weakness.
“I apologize for the interruption to your journey, but you have something of mine,” James declared in his strong voice, carried by the wind.
“Let us pass and we will take no further action,” the Captain responded in what Gemma suspected was false bravado.
James tilted his head at the threat and Gemma could tell that he wanted to react to it. They all knew that a merchant ship could put up a fight, but was unlikely to win against the pirate ship that was at the same time lighter and more heavily armored.
“I am only interested in collecting my wife.”
The Captain seemed to stop short, unknowing how to respond. Then everyone looked around the deck and settled their gazes on Gemma. She was after all the only person who could possibly fit that description.
“I am not his wife!” she yelled.
“It seems my dear lady has regretted the bargain she’s made.” He grinned from across the space between the two ships.
“We have no bargain, sir,” she said loud enough for everyone to hear, beseeching the people around her to believe her. “He is a pirate, he stole me away; I have no bargain with him.”
“I will, of course, take her by force if I must. No man has the right to stand between me and my wife.”
There was silence on both ships as everyone turned back to her.
The Captain moved down to stand by her. “It seems you must rejoin your husband,” he said earnestly to her. The older woman stepped away from her like she was dangerous.
“He is not my husband. We are not married.”
“A reticent bride,” James called from the other ship. Sedate laughter spread across the ship as Gemma narrowed her eyes at him, trying to communicate what she thought of his lies.
The ships had moved closer and Gemma could see the look of victory and amusement on his face. He’d placed her in a peculiar situation. The others would have to call him—a terrifying and armed pirate—a liar to support her claim, with consequences to all of them. There was little pity for a runaway bride, even if the groom was a less than respectable sort.
James kicked over a gangway between the two ships. “Come on, wife, walk the plank.” He stood back and waited, crossing his arms over his chest, watching her. The silence continued across both of the ships as people waited for her to respond. The Captain urged her through hand gestures to approach the gangway. She recognized that they couldn’t get rid of her faster.
“He’s not...” she started, but decided to save her breath. These people were only too happy to believe his claim to avoid a confrontation, and James would send someone over to carry her if she didn’t do so herself. Her shoulders sank in resignation as she looked at the planks connecting the ships.
“You said I was free to go after I did what you wanted.”
“Are you attempting to hold me to my word...Mrs. Mallory? You forget what I am, yet again.” Gemma didn’t know what he was referring to at first, calling her Mrs. Mallory. She felt a rush of emotion being referred to in such a manner. “Come now, let’s not hold up these good people who want to go about their business.”
Gemma saw no way out so she stepped onto the unstable gangway. It bounced disconcertingly as she took another step. Looking down at the water far below her, she wondered if she would be better off in there than on the other side of this gangway.
“Would you like me to come over and carry you?”
“No,” she said sharply and inched her way forward. “I hate you.”
Chapter 22
Jack felt heat and anger take over his whole body as he watched Gemma tentatively walk across the gangway. He’d won and she knew it.
His grabbed her by the throat, not with excessive pressure—just enough to see her eyes flare with fear. He could be fearsome if he wanted to and all who knew him were aware. Part of him wanted her to quake with apprehension.
“You have no right coming after me.”
“Don’t I? As I recall you owe me a thousand pounds. Were you just going to sneak away and not acknowledge your debt?”
He saw the flash of anger in her eyes—she’d been planning on ignoring the debt. He didn’t care about the debt, but he couldn’t delude himself into thinking he’d raced after her—threatening their treaty with the French—for a sum of money.
Forcing her by his hand, he walked her to his cabin and closed the door without taking his hand off her throat. He felt her swallow.
“What I don’t like is someone sneaking off in the middle of the night.”
“Would you have let me go otherwise?”
He knew the answer was no, and apparently so did she.
“And you had no right calling me your wife.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “And why not?”
“Why not?! Oh, let me think of a reason. Because we are not married.”
“Who’s to say?”
“I for one. Perhaps the priest that married us. No wait, there wasn’t one!”
He squeezed her throat a little harder, not liking her belligerent tone. He was still so incredibly angry with her—irrationally angry if he admitted it.
“You are my wife if I say you are my wife. Should we go back to Current Cove and ask? I can assure you there won’t be a single person that will argue.”
“You cannot be serious,” she accused, disbelievingly. Her eyes were huge and he knew that tears might spill soon. “You promised me you would take me back.”
“You promised me you would do as I say.”
“And I did. You got what you wanted and then it was time for me to leave.”
“Obviously, I didn’t agree.” Stepping closer to her, he let the scent of her steep into his senses. He hadn’t really noticed previously the effect her scent had on him, or maybe it was just her nearness. “And your body promised me something else entirely,” he said quietly.
“You cannot just say we are married. We are not married.”
He let the thought play with his mind. He’d only said it to convince the French Captain of his claim in case the man proved one of those unreasoning honorable types who would risk everything for some strange woman’s virtue. An irrational flash of jealousy hit him thinking that they may not be strangers, but he dismissed it as there couldn’t possibly have been enough time for them to know each other beyond a mere greeting.
Now that it was in his mind, the idea of marriage wasn’t as abhorrently repugnant as he’d always thought. He wasn’t for it, but equally the idea of letting it stand didn’t bother him as it would under normal circumstances. But he knew it was the dramatics of the day that were drawing out such sentiments in him and the complete surrender of her body which drew his own circumspection. He’d never quite given so much when nestled in a woman’s thighs as he had in the last couple of days, or been demanded so heavily of. She drew him in like no-one ever had and her intensity allowed for no barriers.
In a few days, things would cool and everything would calm down. For now, however, he would just exist in this state—the novelty of it was intriguing and compelling. Leaning in, he kissed the top of her head, letting the feel of her hair play with his lips.
“Why would you run from me?”
“Because you’re a pirate.”
“You don’t believe my word when I said no
harm would come to you?” His voice was gentle and soothing.
She was silent. He kissed her temple and felt her sigh with dismay. He kissed her cheek, her skin soft and downy, then moved toward her slightly parted lips.
“Please don’t,” she said.
“And why not? My touch heats your blood.” He could feel pure anticipation as he leant in and kissed her. Her soft lift parted for him and she moaned as he explored the warm, soft cavity. There was no resistance in her. He pressed her back against the wall, giving him the feel of her whole body—her soft breasts, her thighs against his and her soft belly to his growing hardness.
Breaking the kiss, he explored her neck when she pushed him away. He chuckled at the determination she put behind it, while her resistance was non-existent when he kissed her. “Now, now, you cannot deny that you want this. Your body tells the truth even if you won’t.” He stepped close to her again.
“We cannot.”
“I see no impediments.”
She stepped away from him and he let her. She walked around the cabin wrapping her arms around her. “You need to let me go.”
“No, I really don’t. You want me, I want you—you are lying to yourself if you deny it.”
“You seduced me; you will have your thousand pounds. Now let me go.”
He watched her intently. “I don’t give a damn about the money. Keep the money, a thousand pounds is really nothing to me. I didn’t chase you down for money. I promised I would return you, you can believe me at my word.” She looked even more displeased.
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