Rescued by the Buccaneer

by Normandie Alleman

  After she was satisfied with her appearance, she walked down to the water. It was a gorgeous day, and the sea breeze offered a pleasant respite from the sun’s already burning rays. The seagulls chirped their contented little songs, and waves crashed onto the beach with a luxurious rhythm that mimicked the languid pace of island life, the kind of life she had begun to think she could grow accustomed to. Hopefully that would come after she convinced Gaston to take her with him. Dismissing his rejection of her, she had devised a plan to confront him and plead her case yet again.

  The first thing she needed to do was to determine the whereabouts of the Ocean’s Knave. She passed by some of the more unsavory characters along the shore and approached a thin, grey-haired man in a striped shirt, hunched over his small boat, surveying his supplies.

  “Hello.” Frederica waved as she approached the man.

  He looked up at her, then glanced over his shoulder to be certain she was speaking to him.

  “I’m sorry to detain you, but I’m looking for the Ocean’s Knave. It’s a rather large ship being repaired somewhere in the area. You wouldn’t have heard about it, would you?”

  “Aye, in the cove just ‘round the bend,” he said pointing to the north.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any way you might take me there?” she asked.

  “What would a lady like you be wantin’ with that bunch of scallywags?”

  She smiled as prettily as she knew how. “I have some unfinished business with the ship’s captain, and I understand he’s with the ship, overseeing repairs.”

  “Aye, that’s probably true.” The man looked at his boat, then back at her.

  “It shouldn’t take long, and if we find him, you are welcome to go about your business,” she pleaded.

  He sighed. “Guess the fish can wait a bit.”

  “Oh, thank you, sir. Thank you ever so much.”

  The man pushed the boat into the water, and Frederica took off her shoes and lifted her skirts before wading into the water and climbing aboard. He held the small vessel still for her, then made his way into the boat and began rowing. Once he got a good pace going, he whistled a sad ballad while his arms forced the oars through the clear, turquoise water.

  Frederica leaned back and let the sun warm her face. Occasionally a spray of salty mist tickled her nose and she had to keep herself from giggling. She luxuriated in the balmy air and enjoyed the light rocking of being at sea again. After her travails in the water with Gaston, she was surprised how much she had missed being aloft in the ocean.

  As they traveled north, the shoreline changed from yards and yards of sandy beach to deep, wild foliage that came to the edge of the water. Frederica noticed several kinds of trees she’d never seen before. Normally she would have asked about them, but this morning she was too focused on the meeting she hoped to have with Gaston.

  It wasn’t long before they rounded a bend, and again there was a sandy beach punctuated by a ship that appeared to have run aground. As they drew closer and the ship’s figurehead came into view, she caught her breath. The Ocean’s Knave loomed larger than she’d anticipated, but it was the ship’s grandeur she had greatly underestimated. The figurehead had obviously been carved by an artist of significant talent, for its detailed woodworking was exquisite. A wooden Pegasus’ body straddled the head of the ship. His wings stretched wide, capturing the image of the mythical horse mid-flight. The effect was that the ship appeared as if it were flying into the heavens. One of his wings looked to be damaged, but he was magnificent nonetheless.

  “She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” the man asked.

  She nodded in agreement. “Like no ship I’ve ever seen. Has she run aground?”

  “Looks like they beached her. Best way to work on ‘er, seein’ as ‘ow there’s no dry dock. She’ll be easy enough to sail once high tide comes in.”

  He rowed the small boat towards the beach. When she saw there were close to a hundred men working on the Ocean’s Knave, she gulped. When she had played this scene out in her mind before, there had been fewer people around to overhear the conversation she hoped to have with Gaston. Fortunately, the men seemed intent on their work and not interested in the lady wading onto the shore.

  Rattled, she took a deep breath and bolstered her courage. She had to find Gaston and talk with him. If she didn’t convince him now, she would lose him forever, and that scared her more than potentially embarrassing herself in front of his men.

  “You want I should wait, miss? I’m not so comfortable leavin’ ya here…”

  “That would be lovely. I’ll wave to you if I find Monsieur Galette and then you’ll be free to go.”

  He tipped his cap to her and set a hook in the water. Clearly he knew what it was to wait for a woman. Timidly and with shoes in hand, she waded through the sea foam onto the hot sand and headed straight for the ship.

  Several men were milling around on the deck, and she tried to capture their attention. “Yoo-hoo!” she called. She said it loud enough to be heard by several members of the crew, but only one stopped what he was doing to pay her any mind.

  He had a navy kerchief tied round his head and he proceeded to look her over, a lecherous gleam in his eye. “What you be wantin’ lass?” he asked.

  Drawing herself up to her full five foot six inches, she straightened her spine and said primly, “I am looking for Captain Galette.”

  “‘E’s in the tents.”

  “Would you mind fetching him for me, please?”

  He laughed. “Fetch him yourself. I’s got work to do.” He pointed at a white tent, its sides flapping in the wind.

  She scowled. “Fine, I will,” she said, her voice taking on an imperious tone.

  The man chuckled again as though her request was hilarious.

  She waved the man in the boat along and he waved back before pulling in his fishing line. She put her new shoes back on, trudging through the dunes, sand crunching under her toes with each step. When she reached the tent, she asked herself how one knocked when approaching a tent, but before she could decide, the flap came open and she found herself face to face with Gaston.

  “What in the devil are you doing here?” he asked, red-faced.

  She offered him her most winning smile. “Why, I was looking for you.”

  He took her by the arm and pulled her back into the tent. “Yes, but why?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  “I wasn’t finished with our conversation last night.” She lifted her chin defiantly.

  “Oh, you weren’t?”

  “No, I wasn’t,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

  “What is it you want to discuss?” he asked impatiently. The brow above his good eye twitched, and she was secretly pleased to be the cause of such consternation.

  “I want to be with you,” she said simply.

  “My dear, you know that cannot happen. A pirate ship is no place for a woman.” He uttered a wry laugh. “It would never work, Frederica, be reasonable. The crew cannot bear a distraction such as yourself. There’d be fighting over you from dawn ‘til dusk. Either that, or they’d overthrow me to get to you. Men are beasts, surely you are aware of this by now.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t care.”

  He flew at her, hissing into her ear. “I should turn you over my knee right now for this insolent behavior.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Promises, promises,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  He snatched her up by the arm and hauled her over a table inside the tent. “Bend over.”

  “You must be joking.”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  “Fine,” she said bravely, desperate to show him she wanted to please him above all else. She draped herself over the top of the table, giving him access to her bottom.

  He pulled up her skirts, exposing her bare bottom, then growled in her ear, “I will not have you arriving here, unannounced, at my work site.” He gave her a hard thwack on the behind that got h
er attention.

  “How else was I supposed to find you?” she asked.

  “When I want to talk to you, I will find you,” he responded with a swat to her posterior.

  “That’s not fair!” she protested, banging her fists on the table.

  “A fair is a place where you go to sell your prized sow. The world is not fair, Frederica. Surely you’ve learned that by now.”

  He smacked her again on her bottom, and she could feel the temperature of her skin back there climbing. Frederica was just about to apologize for her impudence when they were interrupted by the sound of men’s voices hollering.

  * * *

  A member of the crew threw back the curtain of the tent and cried, “Sorry, Cap’n. There’s been an accident.” Once he saw Frederica, the man covered his eyes. “Again, sorry to trouble ye,” he said to Gaston, shifting his feet uncomfortably.

  Gaston flinched and let Frederica’s skirts fall back down, covering her behind. “No trouble, Davy. What is it?”

  “It’s Bones. ‘E’s out cold. Tagbor dropped a hammer on ‘im.”

  Without a word, Gaston bolted out of the tent and ran towards the crowd of men starting to form on the beach near the ship’s hull. When he arrived at the center of the commotion, he saw Bones, one of the midshipmen, laid out cold on the sand, a large gash on the top of his forehead.

  Tagbor, a carpenter’s mate, skittered down the rope ladder alongside the ship and stood over Bones. By the looks of things, he’d dropped his hammer from aloft and it had hit Bones in the head. Tagbor threw his cap to the ground, swearing it had been an accident. He paced angrily back and forth, spewing curses, kicking up clouds of sand as he went.

  Suddenly, Hatch arrived and attempted to calm Tagbor. Meanwhile Gaston bent over Bones’ motionless body and tried to assess the man’s injury. “Bring me some rags and fresh water!” he shouted.

  Several men dashed off to fetch the rags, but most of them gathered around, gaping at their fallen comrade. From behind him, Gaston heard a mousy voice ask, “How deep is it?”

  Gaston turned to determine the source of the question. It was Frederica. She inched nearer and asked more boldly, “The cut. How deep is it?”

  It annoyed him that she would insert herself into this matter. “I don’t know,” he snapped.

  As if unsatisfied with his answer, she marched over and knelt beside Bones. Dismissing Gaston, she bent her head over the injured man and went to work. She pulled the man’s hair aside and poured water into the wound from the bucket the crew had supplied. “The wound doesn’t go beyond the epidermis. That’s good news,” she said.

  Gaston stared blankly at her. He had no idea what this meant, but she sounded hopeful.

  “Get me some turpentine and a needle and thread,” she barked to the men standing around watching the spectacle.

  While they waited, Gaston whispered into her ear, “What do you think you are doing?”

  “Tending to this man.”

  He studied her.

  “Well it didn’t look like anyone else knew what to do.” She lifted her shoulders, indicating she was only trying to help. Once the men arrived with the supplies, Frederica poured the turpentine into the open wound. This caused the man to stir. Seeing his body twitch, the crew erupted in a cheer.

  Ignoring her audience, Frederica patted the wound dry and skillfully sewed the cut closed. Just as she was finishing, the man’s eyes fluttered open.

  “An angel,” he said in a dazed voice, staring into her eyes. “Am I dead?”

  The crew busted up, the somber mood replaced by one of good cheer.

  “No, you’re not dead,” Frederica reassured him. Turning to Gaston, she said, “He may have a severe headache for the next several days. He should lie in a dark room, and it would be best if someone watched over him. In case…” Her voice trailed off.

  Gaston nodded in agreement and gave instructions to some of the men to move the injured man inside the tent until they could take him below deck. Taking her arm, he pulled Frederica out of earshot of the crew. “Thank you,” he said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “How did you know what to do?”

  “My father was a physician, remember? When I was younger, I used to peep my head into his examination room and watch him.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t supposed to, of course, but the bloody stuff always fascinated me.”

  “Have you ever sewn anyone up before?”

  She giggled. “Heavens, no. But I’ve seen it done a hundred times, and it’s not that different from the countless samplers my mother made me sew over the years.”

  Gaston shook his head, processing this new information. Until this moment, he’d had no idea she’d garnered medical knowledge from her father. He’d wrongly assumed Humphrey had made her see to his wound simply because she was a woman and his slave when they were aboard the Neptune’s Damnation. He hadn’t realized it was due to any knowledge she possessed.

  Peering down at her still-cross face, he saw her in a new light. These recently discovered doctoring skills could be quite an asset to him and his crew. Since he had rejoined the ship, he’d learned that his surgeon had been killed in the recent battle with the Spanish and they’d yet to find a replacement. It wasn’t often that physicians voluntarily signed up to sail with a ship of pirates, so they usually had to capture one and force him to work under duress. These men were paid handsomely, but they were difficult to come by.

  Yet accidents were always happening and men got sick, regardless of whether or not they had a physician aboard. Not to mention the wounds they sustained in their many battles. They were currently in need of having someone aboard with medical knowledge, no matter how rudimentary.

  Before he had time to mull it over, he said, “You know, a girl like you might come in handy. How much doctoring did you absorb from your father?”

  Her cheeks flushed with pleasure. “A goodly amount. I could be quite helpful, actually.”

  This new development might give him an excuse to bring Frederica with him. “You’d want to live on a ship like this? You could be satisfied with that? Surrounded by the likes of them?” He gestured towards several members of his crew.

  “If I could be with you, then yes. Not just satisfied. I think we could be happy.” Love twinkled in her eyes, and she balled her fists. “Besides, I can’t abide the thought of being separated from you.”

  “But my dear, what kind of life could we really have together? I’m not the settling down kind. I did that before, and it proved disastrous.”

  She groaned in frustration. “I’m not looking for a domestic life such as that. I want excitement and adventure, to see the world.” Her eyes gleamed. “I want to find treasure!”

  He laughed. “Treasure, eh? It’s not all that simple, Frederica.” He cupped her chin, realizing that as much as he’d tried to avoid it, he’d fallen in love with this enchanting creature.

  “I don’t want to tie you down, nor do I wish to be shackled to a life of boredom.”

  “A pirate’s life is not easy, and it would be even more difficult for a woman, Freddie,” he warned.

  She scowled. “I’m not a typical woman. I’ve sailed with men before, and I believe I can stand next to any man.”

  He didn’t doubt that. Her will was as strong as that of any person he’d ever known. No, stronger. Physically, with some coaching, she should be able to hold her own. He could teach her to use a sword…

  No, that was absurd. Or was it?

  “You’ve opened up a whole new world for me, Master,” she breathed huskily in his ear, her hand reaching between his legs, apparently unfazed by the fact that they were in a public setting. Squeezing his swelling cock, she pleaded, “Please take me with you.”

  Her adorable heart-shaped face gazed up at him, and it seemed she could see directly into his soul. His resolve to do what he believed was “right” began to melt away, and he felt himself giving in to his own selfish desires.

  “Alright, you de
vious girl.”

  “So I may come along?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Hooray!” she shouted and twirled around.

  A few of the men looked over to watch her antics, but they soon went back to what they were doing.

  He wasn’t sure how this arrangement was going to work, but he knew he’d be miserable without her. He’d become addicted to her charms. Whisking her into his arms, he complained, “Woman, what am I to do with you?”

  “Love me.” She gave him a winning smile.

  “God help me, I do.”

  She hugged him tight. “I love you, too.”

  “In fact, I’m afraid if you did not choose to accompany me, I would abscond with you anyway, my pretty little wench,” he teased.

  “Then seeing as I have no say in the matter, I will accompany you,” she said, her voice filled with mirth.

  He squeezed her tight. “I have only one condition.”

  Her face grew serious. “Tell me. What is it you require?”

  “You must call me Master and do as I say.”

  “But—” she started to argue.

  He touched a finger to her lips to shush her.

  “I am the captain of this ship.” He paused to let the words sink in.

  She chewed on her bottom lip but remained silent.

  “I command every man on this ship, and I must be able to command you as well. That is the only way this will work.”

  Nodding slowly, she said. “I can do that.”

  “You will or you will have an awfully red bottom.”

  “I understand.”

  He needed her not only in his bed, but in his heart as well. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers. The connection between them seared into his heart, and he wanted nothing more than for her to belong to him forever.

  Epilogue

  Her tender flesh sang as Gaston’s palm came crashing down upon her rear end.

  “I’m sorry, Master.” Frederica’s arms were bound above her head, the ropes connected to a metal ring Gaston had installed at the head of his bed.