Defying a Pirate

by Camille Oster

  “Or injured. We should search for them. And we must build shelter,” Gemma said after a while.

  “There’s plenty of material,” Lizzie said looking around at the material strewn across the shoreline. “We’ll have to create some kind of thatch from the palm leaves.”

  James’ ship arrived a few days later to everyone’s relief. The ship’s supplies were a godsend. They were all starving as the only thing they had to eat was the few measly fish the boys had managed to spear and that had been raw as there was nothing yet dry enough to burn. The other sea creatures had been washed out to sea and there was nothing left on the sea floor.

  Gemma waded into the water to meet James as he jumped out of the dinghy and she moved straight into his arms, relaxing into his strong body. For a while, they stood together with water up to their thighs.

  “I was worried,” he said a few moments later.

  “As were we.”

  “How did you survive?”

  “The boys knew of a cave. We retreated there, but not everyone came.”

  Howls of grief came from further down the beach as Cassie and Betty’s men learned of their fates.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should never have brought you here. I’m taking you home.”

  “What? No.”

  “Don’t argue with me. It was foolish of me to bring you here, and you almost paid with your life.”

  “James, please.”

  Stepping away from her, he waded toward the beach, depriving her of both his comfort and her peace of mind. He couldn’t take her back now, her mind strained against the whole idea of it.

  He spent the next two hours organizing the camp—the transportation of wheat and barley from the ship, the laying of nets and the further construction of temporary shelter. Keeping himself busy every moment, he seemed to be ignoring her, not letting her catch his eyes.

  When it grew dark and they’d eaten the day’s catch, he finally approached her. “We’ll retreat to the cabin tonight.” His voice was cold and distant. She couldn’t believe the change in him, it was like he’d cut her out of his heart like an unwanted intruder. It hurt like a physical ache, but they’d be alone tonight and he wouldn’t be able to ignore her then.

  Urging her to the dinghy, he rowed them back to the ship to spend the night there.

  She sat on one of the benches opposite him. He wasn’t looking at her, his face tight with strain.

  “We sail tomorrow,” he said without looking at her. Gemma wanted to touch him, to put her hands on his thighs, but she knew he wouldn’t welcome it.

  “I haven’t done anything wrong,” she said when the door to his cabin closed behind them. It was dark inside and she heard him move to light the lantern. “This wasn’t my fault—you don’t have to send me away.” She walked over to him and placed herself in his way.

  “Gemma,” he said with annoyance.

  “Why are you punishing me?”

  “I’m not punishing you. This is not where you belong. This isn’t the life for you.”

  “It was just a storm, these things happen.”

  “This isn’t about the storm, Gemma,” he said more softly. “This was never going to work; it was just a short reprieve, something I should never have done. This is not the life that supports a family. You have a family, one that cares for you and will see you to a good future, with prospects for your children.”

  “I want to be with you,” she said, her tears were spilling over. She could hardly speak for the painful lump in her throat.

  “And you say that now—you are caught in the madness of this. In a few months, you will come to your senses and you will see that this was the best thing I could have done. You will thank me.”

  Shaking her head, she refused to agree with him. How could he see that happening? She would be away from him and the joy he brought her, only to be married off to some man she didn’t know and probably didn’t like—to live in some cold, drafty house somewhere, having none of the joys she’d found here.

  “This is for the best, and you will see that. I’m sorry. Hate me if you will.”

  Bringing her hands away from him where they were clutching his sides, he stepped away. “Would you like some wine?” he asked tightly.

  “No!” She wanted to discuss this further, to convince him that he was making a mistake, driven by fear and worry brought on by the storm. “You can keep me somewhere else, anywhere.”

  He was ignoring her, pouring some whiskey for himself and taking his boots off.

  Exhaustion and misery were claiming her and she sat down on the bed. She wanted him to touch her, to comfort her, but he refused. She truly did understand what he was saying. He’d never actually said that she was staying; he’d always said it was a detour before he took her back. But somewhere along the way, she’d changed her mind—wanted to stay with him, even with the shortcomings and restrictions of his life and the risk that sat as a great lump of fear in her chest when he sailed away.

  She refused to believe that he didn’t care about her. She’d seen the sheer relief on his face when he’d spotted her on the beach.

  Maybe in the morning he would change his mind, when he’d calmed down. She could see the exhaustion on him; he had no energy left. Watching him, she wondered how long he’d been awake, sailing to reach them. He’d obviously known about the storm as he’d come behind it.

  “I think we must both sleep,” she said and undid the buttons on her breeches. She slipped into the bed and breathed in the scent of him lingering in the bed sheets. Tucking her palms under her head, she would give anything to have him here now, in his arms, kissing him. But he stayed at the table.

  Chapter 30

  The noise on deck started just after dawn. They were preparing to sail, she could hear it in the commands he was giving—his voice booming through the wooden ceiling between them. The bed beside her was empty; he’d left the cabin while she was asleep. Her body raged in protest; she ached for him and he denied her. Dropping her head back on her pillow, she sighed with dismay and frustration. Surely he wasn’t going to deny her the entire voyage back.

  It was slightly ironic that she had denied him the whole voyage here, and now he was denying her on the voyage back. She had three weeks to change his mind—three week of long nights together, provided he didn’t turn her from his cabin. She couldn’t see him doing that; he was too concerned for her safety and welfare.

  Dressing in the shirt and breeches she’d commandeered from his now long gone wardrobe, she looked around the familiar cabin. She missed the cottage. She’d been happy there; they’d had a future together and she’d been waiting for his return. The cottage was gone now, along with the future she’d envisioned.

  Walking into brilliant sunshine, she shielded her eyes as she closed the cabin door behind her. They weren’t sailing yet, but they were getting ready. The crew was rushing around making sure everything was as it should be. She tried to stay out of their way as she made her way to the quarterdeck. He stood up there in black breeches and a white linen shirt. Gemma had to take a moment to just admire him. He’d almost been hers.

  “We’re sailing,” she said when she reached his side.

  “Yes.”

  Looking down the ship, Gemma saw some of the women on the ship as well. There were also still people on the beach. “Not everyone is coming?”

  “No.”

  “What are they going to do?”

  “Rebuild.”

  “I can rebuild,” Gemma said hopefully. James stepped away from her, but she wasn’t giving in.

  “We’ve talked about this Gemma. This isn’t the life for you.”

  “I want to be with you.”

  “I can’t protect you, Gemma. This isn’t a proper life for a family. I couldn’t protect you from a storm; I can’t protect you from raiders—and they will eventually find this place. And before long—probably not long at all since it’s a miracle I’m still free and breathing—you will be alone, with nowhere to
go. None of this, I can protect you from, Gemma. The life you foresee is an illusion.”

  “It is suitable for others.”

  “It isn’t suitable, but they simply don’t have a choice—you do. You have a family who will see you right; you have a chance at a life none of these women could ever dream of.”

  Gemma knew what he was saying was true, but she couldn’t just accept it. There had to be a way around the cold, hard logic that surmised their situation. “I thought this life was about taking what you want.”

  “It is, but there’s always a price. And the price I pay is not having a family, and that is just the way it is. I am never going to regret bringing you here, Gemma. But I would always regret not taking you back. Now we sail.” James ordered the sails dropped.

  Standing at the back of the quarterdeck, she alternatively watched him and looked back at the stretch of coast that she’d called home for a short while. It hurt to say goodbye to it, but she accepted that it was an illusion—a beautiful illusion. And now there was just three short weeks left of it, before she was returned to reality for good.

  Patiently, she waited for him to return to the cabin that evening. He’d staying on deck much longer than he normally would. He was avoiding her. She’d still spent every moment thinking of him, listening to him walk above her, wishing him to return here.

  When he finally returned, he was shut down and ignoring her. He joined her at the table, but didn’t say anything. Once he’d eaten, he got up to pour himself a glass of whiskey.

  “Are you going to ignore me for three weeks?” she asked.

  “I’m just...” he started but drifted off. Silence prevailed in the cabin. It was unbearable.

  Standing up, she stepped toward him where he stood holding his glass and decanter with either hand. He turned as she approached, his face expressing nothing; his eyes were dark and soulless.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

  “Then don’t.”

  He wasn’t pushing her away, but he wasn’t inviting either. Reaching up, Gemma kissed his lips; they were firm and unyielding. It didn’t matter to Gemma, the scent and the taste was better than the cold isolation she’d felt before. He didn’t react at all as she kissed him. He brought his forehead down to hers so his mouth was out of reach.

  “Gemma,” he said, not much louder than a whisper. She groaned with frustration. Neither of them moved as they stood there, close enough to embrace. She wanted his arms around her.

  “Don’t make me feel like I’ve lost you when I haven’t yet. There is enough time for loss later; I don’t have to feel it before it actually happens.”

  His eyes came to hers. Forcefully, his lips sought hers and his arm came around her back, pulling her sharply to him. In the back of her mind, she noted the sound of glass breaking. The feel of him along her was glorious as all the pent-up tension flowed out of her. His kiss was forceful, striving as he deepened it, almost frantic. She collided with something hard behind her, not knowing exactly what it was, caring even less. She had him back and it was all that mattered.

  Strong arms lifted her up while he continued his bruising kiss. She never wanted this kiss to part. Her legs snuck around him, drawing him closer. Groaning, he pulled back and held her away from him so he could tear at buttons that held her breeches in place. The garment slid to the ground without much effort and she stepped out of them. His eyes held her in place as he worked to release himself. Stepping toward her, he lifted her high enough to place himself at her entrance, lowering her slowly as she welcomed him inside her. The strong, smooth motion created currents of sensation as her body yielded to his. The feeling of fullness assured her that this was how they were supposed to be. A sharp thrust sent spears of delicious sensation up along her spine. His breathing sharp and labored in her ears as another deep thrust threatened to tear her apart.

  Clasping onto his strong broad shoulder, Gemma winced as the sharp wave of pleasure stole through her. Her body was at the command of the sensations he drew, robbing her of breath and care for anything else in the world. The pleasure built beyond bearing and her body tightened before her release violently coursed through her.

  “Are you neglecting your ship, Captain?” she asked as they lay in bed completely divested of bed linen as well as clothes.

  Turning to the windows, James saw the darkness outside. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been there, but night had turned to day and then night again. He hadn’t noticed time passing as such, his attention had been captured at much closer quarters with little room for any other concerns. In fact, it could have been several days for all he knew. “Yes,” he admitted, smiling. “You are a very bad influence on me. I’m going to have to watch you, I think—closely.”

  “So the pirate’s concerned about the influence of a slight girl like me?” she teased.

  “You, my dear, are a force of nature, I have learnt.”

  Moving on top of him, her breasts flattening to his chest. Her naked body was the most delicious thing in the world, but he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to claim her yet again. He’d sworn a few hours ago that it was the last time, but she was too tempting. His thigh moved up around the outside of her soft and smooth thigh as she lay on him and he felt himself tightening again. She was going to kill him if this kept up. She was a siren or a mermaid, something that led men to their willing deaths. All in all, not a bad way to go. When the noose was finally slipped around his neck, this is where he wanted his mind to travel to.

  He arched back slightly as she leant down and kissed his neck. He’d shown her things that he hadn’t had time to earlier and she’d learnt what drove him to complete distraction. He loved the look of pleasure on her face, the look of admiration and astonishment she got when he brought her to shuddering release.

  Maybe if they stayed in bed for the whole voyage, he would be happy to see the back of her by the time they got to England. He knew it wasn’t true; the real concern was that he plainly wouldn’t be able to let her go. He’d made an effort to not touch her, to create some distance between them, and it had lasted a day.

  Placing her palms down on his chest, her chin came to rest on her hands as they watched each other.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “We should eat.” He patted her lightly on the backside to get her to move off him. Stepping out of bed, he retrieved the tray from the table and brought it back to bed. She looked exquisite as she lay on her side waiting for him to return. Placing the tray between them, he mirrored her position on the other side of the still untouched tray that Cook had brought them earlier, before picking some meat and fruit.

  “Where will you go after?” she asked

  “After what?”

  “After you’ve taken me back.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes, I want to know where you’ll be so I can imagine where you are.”

  “I will go back to the Caribbean.”

  “You will rebuild the cottage in Belize?”

  “No.”

  “Then what will you do?”

  Rage at the world, he said to himself, for this new level of cruelty. “I will be a pirate.”

  “You should go to Ireland.”

  “Why would I go to Ireland?”

  “It is where you’re from. Your home. You should find it again.”

  “That was a very long time ago.”

  “Your mother might still be alive.”

  “Why rehash the long gone past? Best to let sleeping dogs lie.” He’d never truly considered going back to Ireland. There’d always been a block in his mind that kept him from considering it. When he’d been young, his only wish had been to return to his mother, but he’d never had the means. As his manhood had crept up, his thoughts had turned elsewhere, and his rage took precedence—he’d forgotten his childhood wishes. Later, the idea of presenting himself to his mother as a criminal and outlaw—a pirate—had always been off-putting. He wasn’t
ashamed of his past and his profession, except perhaps when the idea of his mother was concerned—because at some point she’d likely had expectations of him. Or maybe it was that he barely remembered her and he didn’t want tainted the few memories he’d clung to as a child. “She would likely have laid me to rest a long time ago. What purpose would it serve to rehash it? I am not a child in need of a mother.”

  “Or perhaps she never laid you to rest,” Gemma said. “Perhaps she is still searching for you—a mother in need of her child.”

  “I am hardly a child anymore.” The idea that there was a mother somewhere wondering what’d happened to him was disconcerting and uncomfortable. It wasn’t something he wanted to consider.

  “I wouldn’t give up hope if my child was missing. Would you?”

  “I don’t have a child,” he said, knowing it was a petulant statement, but he didn’t want to think of family and children. He’d thought more about it lately than he should, and it brought nothing but misery. Even non-existent family brought pain; the idea that there was a woman—his mother—aching for want of knowing what happened to him sat burning in his mind like an unwanted devil.

  Lying back onto the bed, he looked up at the ceiling. Gemma brought out all the uncomfortable things—the things he wanted to forget and ignore. He couldn’t quite bring himself to regret meeting her, but he recognized that he might all-round be happy in ignorant bliss if she’d just passed by him, unnoticed as she sailed back to England from Rum Cay. He’d seen her as they’d stopped to bury the body of their fallen Captain. He’d noticed her even before she took over the ship and went to war with him. She’d looked like a typical wealthy young English woman—innocent, spoilt and vapid; although not as much as her companion. He’d never expected at that point that she would utterly decimate his peace like she had; he would have turned and sailed the other way if he’d known.

  Chapter 31

  To Gemma’s surprise, James actually agreed to detour via Ireland after endless coaxing. The days grew colder as they got further north—as did the nights, but Gemma didn’t mind the biting chill in the air when they spent the night together in their warm bed. Their lovemaking had taken on a more profound meaning as their time together was drawing to an end. The idea of leaving him felt awkward and wrong. It felt much longer, but they’d only been together for just over two months—yet it had completely changed her life and her perspective. She wasn’t the same person returning to London as the one who’d left.