PIRATED LOVE
A Novel by K’Anne Meinel
Kindle Edition
Published by:
Shadoe Publishing for
K’Anne Meinel on Kindle
Copyright © K’Anne Meinel December 2015
PIRATED LOVE
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CHAPTER ONE
Claire looked out over the endless sea. It was a pretty, deep blue-green shade which she was told was due to the unique waters of the Caribbean. As the islands they were approaching came closer, the depths would make it appear even more blue, more beautiful; many different shades of blue and green. She enjoyed the view, but not the indicators that told her she would be arriving at their destination soon. They were making for the island of Baleniesia, a small unimportant island ruled by an autocratic governor for His Majesty, the king. The governor also happened to be her father. When she reached the island she had two days to prepare for her wedding. She glanced at the man that was to be her husband and shuddered at the thought.
Sir Edmond could have been a kind man, but nature had not been kind to him. He was still afflicted with facial sores that most would have outgrown after their teens. He attempted to hide these ruptures with a beard that had never fully developed and as a result looked thin and scraggly with prominent bald spots interspersed with the sores. Ingrown hairs caused some of these sores that further made his appearance disgusting. His morose picking at the scabs did not help any, causing oils from his hands to enter the sores and cause more pus-filled ruptures. A flushed complexion, made worse from the sunburn he was sporting, did not enhance his looks in any way. Dark brown, almost black hair stood out from his scalp, chins, and cheeks. His overly-large nose was red and veins were broken over it from drinking. His eyebrows brushed over his eyes-his only good feature. They were a twinkling brown that frequently ogled his fiancée, much to her disgust and dismay. Sir Edmond was not tall, slightly under average. He was shorter than his bride, but as he never looked her in the eye it really did not matter. Frequently, she found him looking straight down her stylishly-cut gowns, licking his lips in anticipation of their wedding night. He was constantly assuring her that she would enjoy his amorous charms. He tried frequently to discuss his past conquests with her, hoping to impress her with his well-endowed pursuits, but Claire always pleaded for her innocent ears to hear no such salacious comments. Instead of putting him off, this seemed to increase his ardor; he appeared to thrill at the thought of being Claire’s first and only lover. She shivered at the thought of his sweaty hands on her body.
She quickly looked away in disgust. The prideful peacock had no idea that women found him repulsive. He seemed to think very highly of himself. He believed he was charming, rich, and handsome, despite the obvious acne on his thirty-year-old face. When she had been introduced to him by her father’s London solicitor, she had frozen in the act of welcoming the man her father had written about, assuring her he was a good catch. His overly-familiar nature had disgusted her beyond his physical appearance. He quickly assured her that he would master her and show her the ways of pleasuring him. At every opportunity he groped, fondled, caressed, or pinched her body. As a result, she sported many bruises and red marks on her young, white body. She avoided him whenever she could, but being on a slow ship for the last six weeks meant she had very few places to hide. She could not always stay in her cabin. He had accosted her there once, but she had learned to keep the door locked at all times. She had taken a sudden interest in the management of the ship and to the delight of the captain and his officers had been a welcome listener to their stories, knowledge, and skills. This kept her fiancé at bay. He had no interest in the running of the ship, considering it far beneath his lofty self, but he could not interrupt the captain or his officers when they were chatting with her. He did, however, let her know he did not appreciate her talking with these men he felt were his inferiors. Unfortunately, the captain and his men were not much better in character than her fiancé, they interpreted her interest in the ship to be an interest in them as well. She had another week of fending them off before they might take liberties. Only the fact that Sir Edward was marrying the daughter of the Governor of Baleniesia kept them from doing something that would get them drawn and quartered.
Claire sighed, wishing she could change her fate, but unfortunately her father controlled it. She had met her father a total of five times in her life. He had basically abandoned her to their London servants when her mother died. Going into service of the king, he had gladly accepted the prestigious position of governor on the unheard of island of Baleniesia. He certainly did not want to be saddled with a small daughter when he was not sure of conditions on the island. Once settled, he loved his power too much to be bothered with a child, and a girl child at that. As a result, Claire had been raised by her governess, the housekeeper, butler, and a host of maids. She had gone to prestigious schools thanks to her father’s solicitors, but these gave her no home life, no love, no family. Instead she was independent; she made friends with the people who had been paid to raise her. There was no warmth other than that friendship, nothing that would be a mother-daughter or father-daughter relationship. She sighed again, thinking about what she had dreamed of for years, that she would love her husband and have beautiful children. This was unlikely with a man who looked and acted like Sir Edmund.
“Thinking of me, my dear?” he sidled up to her, making sure to touch her proprietarily by sliding an arm around her shoulder.
“No,” she answered honestly, shrugging his arm off her, knowing he would think it maidenly airs. “I am thinking of what Baleniesia will look like.”
That sent him off on a long and boring lecture of the island and its many benefits. It was a profitable island from sugar cane, slaves, and rum. It was strategic to His Royal Majesty’s ships with a deep bay for anchoring and resupplying, which was why the governor’s request for this small favor of transporting his daughter and her fiancé had been granted. Sir Edmund had gone to London himself to fetch his lovely bride. He had considered himself fortunate to obtain her hand in marriage. Her father was a lord of the realm, and with his governorship and plantations, a very wealthy man in his own right. It was definitely an advantageous marriage for Sir Edmond. It was also advantageous to him that his bride was young, nubile, and attractive. Her blonde-brown hair was beautiful and would bleach blonder in the tropical sun, if he allowed her out of their home. He thought about keeping her bound to the bedroom, perhaps tied to their bed in chains that would normally be used on slaves. He liked the idea and licked his lips repeatedly in anticipation of bedding his attractive, young fiancée. She would be a good bed partner he was sure of that. He would teach her all the things that he liked.
Claire listened with only half an ear, nodding occasionally as her mind drifted. Sir Edmund would never notice. He was so self-involved giving her an education on something he felt so superior about, that he never considered that she was not interest
ed in what he had to say. Unfortunately, he felt himself superior on many subjects and his droning on tended to bore his listeners. He never noticed, too impressed with his own knowledge to acknowledge theirs. Claire looked out at the waves, praying to the heavens for a reprieve from this obnoxious and disgusting man.
The heavens answered.
“Sail ho,” a call came from the eagle’s nest, a spot manned by one of the sailors up on one of the high spars.
Everyone on deck except Sir Edmund looked immediately to where the man pointed over the horizon. Faintly, the tall spars of another ship could be seen. It took some time, but as it began to creep up over the horizon, they could see it clearly. By then Edmund had finally become aware that his captive audience was looking elsewhere and turned to look himself. “Do not worry, my dear, I will protect you!” he assured his fiancée, who he assumed was frightened, as he took advantage of the moment to put his arm around her again.
Claire leaned forward slightly so his arm dropped off her shoulder and wondered aloud, “I wonder if they are a merchantman’s ship?”
“I am sure if they are, they are unimportant to His Majesty’s business,” he said pompously, annoyed that she had once again avoided his touch.
They all watched as it slowly and majestically made its way towards them, apparently on a course that would intersect their own. The captain and his officers discussed its intentions and a spyglass was brought out to try to identify the ship, which apparently was not flying a flag. It was soon obvious that the ship was larger than their own, its four masts huge against the background of the sky. It cut through the waves easily as it sailed along, its huge and graceful lines making little effort as its beautiful, white sails filled with wind. As it came closer, its black appearance seemed as ominous as its silent and huge presence.
A shout went up from the captain after consulting his officers. “It is Black Betty!” he called to his crew and immediately demanded they get the most out of their own sails to get far away from this famous pirate’s ship. “Mason, break out arms for all,” he called to his arms master.
Claire felt curiously excited. She had heard all sorts of tales from the captain and his officers, but the ones that seemed to fascinate her the most were those told about pirates. Black Betty had several tales that had intrigued and delighted Claire. She knew that she should not approve of piracy, but the fact that this ship was commanded by a woman had thrilled her. She had listened avidly when they talked about the rogue captain of the pirate ship. It was rumored that she took men and women as lovers, and she freed men from jail for her vagabond crew which made them exceedingly loyal. She shared her treasure with them and owned an island somewhere that was made of gold. She had no compunction killing men or women; she fought better than most men. She had never been caught and brought to justice and no one could find where she hid, what happened to her captives, or the treasures that she plundered. The outrageous tales about her were probably false, but then Claire was sure they had grown with time and boredom of the men who grudgingly respected the woman for doing what she wanted.
A curious sense of expectation took over the crew as they all came on deck to fight off the rapidly overtaking ship, its larger countenance causing the captain and his officers to sweat as they swore and ordered the men to take on more sail, to get them going faster than the other ship. It was to no avail as the other ship fired across their bow, an obvious request for them to stop. The captain ignored it, swearing at the other ship, the sound carried across the waters as it overtook them. Grappling hooks were repelled as it came alongside.
Claire stood back against the doors that led down to the hold, for once letting Sir Edmund hold her around the shoulders. In her case, it was more because she did not notice, in his case, because of his real fear. The bulk of the doors behind her felt good against her back as she watched the pirates swing aboard.
“Repel them,” the captain shouted, unnecessarily.
Claire watched as the defenders of her ship shot unsuccessfully, oftentimes the gun they were using misfiring or not firing at all and their accuracy was awful. The clash of swords was loud as the pirates swarmed across as the two ships crashed together, the grappling hooks now successful in holding the two ships side by side. The men fought desperately, bravely, and Claire did not know much about sword fighting, but even her untutored eyes could see that the pirates were far superior in skill as they quickly disarmed and sometimes killed the battling sailors. The fighting was ferocious, sweaty, and quick; the pirates were soon victorious.
Claire watched amazed as a woman came across the small gap between the two ships. She was dressed as a man with her hair flowing madly about her shoulders and back, its red gleam shining in the light of the sun, bright gold earrings hanging from both her ears. She looked wild and untamed as she walked up to the captain who was held between two swarthy-looking men who had never washed, were naked from the waist up, and sported odd little shoes that had tips that curled up. She wore two swords crisscrossed over her back, her hair nearly hiding them in its length, but the handles were just over her shoulders so she could grab them as needed. Right now, she was holding a sword in her hand from the belt at her waist.
“Do you yield?” a very effeminate voice sternly asked.
The captain spat at her and she looked at the spittle that hit the deck of the captured ship. Her eyes narrowed ominously and with a little nod of her head the two men who held the captain began to strip him despite his protests and then proceeded to throw him into the ocean over the edge of his ship.
“Well, lookee what we have here,” a voice spoke close to Claire’s ear and she turned to see a disgusting man with brown, fuzzy teeth leering at her as he reached for her. In the clash of the fight, she and Sir Edmund had been overlooked and now the pirates were systematically looking for anyone hiding or for hidden loot, and had discovered her. He grabbed her away from Sir Edmund easily, who curiously did not protest. “Hey, boys, looks like we gets some fun!” he grinned and laughed evilly as several men began to pinch, grab, and feel up the protesting woman.
“No, no, NO!” she screeched, as they began to tear at her clothes and bear her down to the deck of the ship. She saw one of the men lower his trousers and she saw a pole of white flesh swelling from it. She looked away helplessly as she tried to kick and struggle, but was held down easily by the lustful men who pulled her skirts up and ripped off her drawers, touching her where no one had ever touched, not even she, other than through a washcloth. She screamed, which seemed to egg on the men. Glancing over at her fiancé who had sworn to defend her, she saw him easily being held by two men, but also watching avidly. She screamed loud and long as the man kneeled between her spread legs.
“Halt!” the feminine voice commanded.
The man grabbed her hips as he went to thrust between her legs.
A sword tip slashed down in front of his lust-filled eyes and stopped just short of his erect cock. He froze in the act of raping the young woman and looked up at the angry green eyes of his captain. Her intent was clear, either he halted his act or she would slice off his manhood. Knowing her as he did, he shrunk before all their eyes and quickly tucked it away, standing up with his head hung low. She raised his chin with her sword tip.
“Can you listen, Johann?” she asked, ominously.
“Sorry, Captain, I’s caught up. She is a prize,” he defended himself weakly.
She glanced down on the deck at the sprawled body of the young woman she had just saved from being ravished. The blouse of her gown was torn open and her breasts were on view to all the lustful looks of her men and the crew of the other ship who could see from their own kneeling positions. She admired the view herself for a moment. “So she is, but she is more valuable to us as a hostage. Are you and I going to have problems over this, Johann?” she asked, in a cultured voice that brooked no argument.
“No, ma’am, er, sir,” he stuttered, knowing she would not hesitate to kill him where he stood.
&nbs
p; She smiled as she lowered the razor-sharp sword and ordered, “Cover her up!” Looking around at the sailors of the captured ship, she spied the still struggling Sir Edmund who was swearing and protesting over his capture.
“I am Sir Edmund Fitzhugh! You have no right...!” he was shouting.
“They will not understand you,” she yelled over him in a perfect English accent and he subsided, relieved to have someone who might finally understand him as the two dirty men had not answered in English. Instead they spoke some gibberish he had no hope of understanding as he struggled to be released from them and they swore at him in their own languages.
“Finally! I DEMAND that you release me immediately. I am Sir Edmund...” he began, pompously, but trailed off as she swiftly brought her sword up to his unprotected throat to get his full attention.
“You are NOTHING now. I am in charge here and you are at my mercy. If I choose to sell you as a slave or drown you here, it is MY choice and not your own. So do be good enough to be quiet while I decide what to do with you.” She turned away from the disgusting man whose eyes were nearly popping out of his sockets at the sword.
“Strip the ship,” she ordered, in several different languages. It was obvious she knew them too, as she effortlessly gave the order.
Each of the captured sailors was given the opportunity to tell what they knew about their own ship as the pirates searched them for weapons and valuables. Many of the pirates knew many different languages, or at least a smattering, so they could ask their English prisoners questions. The pirates began to take their plunder across to their own ship. They used the labor of their captives to bring up the booty from the hold. Anyone who resisted was stripped and thrown immediately into the water as an example to any who would not work. They were watched to see that they did not try to again get on board or on the pirates’ own ship. It is a helpless man who is naked and floating in the ocean, attempting to keep afloat or, as a couple of the men were, holding on to the ship as best they could at the water line, waiting for the decision of the pirate captain and their fate. They did not hold out much hope; the captain was not known for her generosity to captives if she even bothered to take any of them.
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