Pirate's Redemption

by Camille Oster

  "This course of action is absolutely against what you want."

  "I've found something better to want." His eyes dropped down to hers and she felt bubbling nerves rear in her stomach. Did he mean her? It sounded like it did, but that would perhaps be too good to be true. "How would you feel about being a pirate, Miss Lancaster? I think you have what it takes."

  Sarah gasped. The notion was ridiculous, but also utterly exciting. "Do you mean it?"

  "More than mean it; we are doing it," he said with a laugh.

  No, this couldn't be true. Could it? He was taking her back to the Caribbean—away from here and the awful marriage she had resigned herself to. She wouldn't have to marry. Actually, she could marry who she wanted. "Mother will be furious."

  "Absolutely."

  "Father will be livid—with you."

  "He will likely despise me more than any man living."

  No, this couldn't be true, she told herself again. Her beautiful pirate had come for her. Her heart felt like bursting. They would leave and they would be together.

  "We have to hurry," he said in a more serious tone. "They will discover your absence soon enough."

  The powerful horse carried them forward in strong strides, taking them away.

  "Where are we going?" she asked.

  "Bristol."

  "You have a ship there?"

  "Not yet, but I have a crew."

  "We're going to steal a ship?" she asked, her eyes wide, excitement firing in her mind. "I'm going to be a pirate," she stated as if trying the notion on. A wail of delight howled out of her throat. She was leaving everything behind and she was sailing with him. She was going to be with him. The thought was almost too much to hope for.

  "Yes, we are going to steal a ship, then sail away from here. You can never come back; you have to realize that."

  She nodded, almost scared he would change his mind. It was a large decision leaving behind her family and the future planned for her, but she would be gaining more. Her parents would never understand, and there was a good chance she would never see them again, and they might even refuse to accept letters from her—disowning her completely.

  Looking up at Joshua, she felt no doubt. The idea of being with him, properly and for the rest of her life, was too compelling to consider giving up. This would not have been a decision he would have taken lightly, and he'd taken it for her, to be with her.

  Chapter 33

  They sailed out of Bristol harbor in the dark. Two guardsmen were tied up, lying on the deck, while the remnants of the drunken crew unfortunate enough to be on the ship that night were locked in the hold. They'd sailed in utter silence, these bunch of men that Joshua had recruited. Some were young, some were old, and some had no idea what they were doing, but all seemed excited, taking orders as quietly as possible.

  Sarah stood on the quarterdeck next to Joshua, who manned the wheel. The water was inky black around them and the moon was behind dark clouds. She still couldn't believe this was happening. They were sailing away. Ropes and pulleys strained as the sails were hoisted.

  Shortly before Bristol, Joshua had traded Sarah's gown with a stable lad, who'd ended up running away with it in just his drawers. It was a good trade for the boy as he'd replace the worn clothes he'd traded twenty times over. So now she was here, wearing breeches, a waistcoat and a coat.

  She couldn't stop herself from jumping with excitement. According to Joshua, the ship they'd stolen had originally been Dutch, captured during the war and sold off. Now it was theirs. Sarah felt a qualm about simply taking what wasn't hers, but not enough to forego taking this future he offered her.

  The salty air combed through her hair and she looked around nervously to see if they were discovered. Joshua showed no sign of being nervous; he simply did what had to be done, giving orders as they sailed out of the harbor.

  "Will they follow us?"

  "They will try, but we will be lost in the darkness."

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to steady her nerves, fearing this mad plan would be scuttled before she had a chance to claim it. So far, there appeared to be no threats coming, but someone would discover the ship had been stolen before too long.

  Returning her gaze to Joshua, she watched his features, watched the seriousness on his face as he went about his business. Her insides clenched with anticipation. They were together. He was hers. It seemed too good to be true.

  With a straight back, he stood with a spread stance, his left arm around her shoulders. She felt his warmth along her body and couldn't wait until they were out of danger.

  They sailed through the night and at dawn, the men untied the two guards and, along with the sobering sailors, lowered them down in a dinghy. "There's an island portside," Joshua called out, his voice booming over the muttering and swearing men. "Make your way there and you will soon find your rescue."

  With continued laughter from Joshua's crew, the dinghy was cut away. One of the sailors stood in the small boat and brandished his fist at them, swearing as loudly as he could.

  "That should make us lighter," Joshua said, "and faster."

  "Will it make such a difference?" Sarah asked.

  "No, but there is no cargo in the hold, and that will make a difference. But we will have to stop in Ireland and pick up some provisions for the sailing. There is also something else, I think we must do—or rather someone we must see."

  Once the excitement of releasing the prisoners was concluded, exhaustion started to bite into Sarah. The ride had been frantic and the stealing of the ship had been nerve-wracking; now she felt it all take its toll.

  "Go and sleep for a while," Joshua said. "I will wake you when we get closer to Ireland."

  Her body was growing downright sluggish, so she had little choice. He wasn't coming with her, which she regretted, but the need to sleep was trumping the need to be with him. His insistence to stay made her aware that they were still in danger and he didn't feel comfortable resting yet.

  Making her way downstairs, she walked into the captain's quarters, the previous captain's things still there. Again a twinge of unease threatened, but she refused to entertain it. This ship had been taken by pirates and that was the end of it. Being Dutch, it wasn't the first time the ship had been taken and it was Joshua's ship now.

  Lying down in the generous bed, she imagined herself as a pirate, her hair free, standing in her breeches with a cutlass in her hand. The thought made her smile. She would be brave and fearless, she decided. Joshua was at her side and he was proud of her. She wanted to make him proud, to make up for the fact that he had chosen her. He'd chosen her, she repeated, her heart clenching yet again. How she wished he was there with her, but her eyes were too heavy to think about what she would do then.

  *

  They sailed into a smaller port along the western coast of Ireland. Sarah didn't know quite where they were, but they sailed in and Joshua spoke to the harbormaster. Money changed hands, and by all appearances, it was a generous sum because the harbormaster organized things with efficiency and directness after that.

  Joshua bounded up the gangplank to where she was standing. "Now to the other business," he stated.

  "Oh yes?"

  "Well, it would not be entirely true if I said I wasn't a scoundrel," he started, suddenly seeming less assured of himself, "because, clearly I am, but in many ways, I have always had aspirations to be an honorable man."

  Nerves clenched inside Sarah's stomach because she knew he was referring to her. He continued. "I do owe you—and your parents, although they would unlikely agree—to do the right thing by you."

  Her dry throat made it hard to swallow.

  "Hence, Miss Lancaster, as we set off on this adventure together, would you do me the honor of being my bride?"

  Sarah could hardly speak. "Yes," she finally said in a breathy exhale.

  A smile broke across his lovely lips. "Excellent; well, we better sort the necessaries then."

  "I probably shouldn't have go
tten rid of the gown," she said, conscious she was hardly dressed for a wedding.

  "Yes," he said uncomfortably. "Do you require a gown?"

  "Not strictly, no," she said. Being his wife was much more important than how she married. She was going to be his wife, her mind screamed at her. His, and he would be hers. They would be together forever. That was what he was promising her. The rightness of it buzzed through her body. Perhaps they had always belonged together. Had fate thrown them together to find each other?

  "We will have to see what we can organize at short notice."

  "Will we find a pastor to marry us?"

  "A strategically placed flintlock motivates even the most staid, I find."

  Sarah laughed at the idea, forcing a pastor to marry them under gunpoint. Scores of rules and etiquette were bypassed and they just insisted on what they wanted.

  With a wave from the harbormaster, Joshua left her again as he went and spoke to the man who was waving his hands around.

  Coming back, Joshua waited on the other side of the gangplank and with a bow, held his hand to her, indicating for her to come to him. "Miss Lancaster," he said.

  With unsteady steps, she rushed over the planks. It was so very far down and she felt nervous walking across them.

  "Where are we going?"

  "To see what we can find." He led her away, through the small village until they reached a small church. By the look of it, it was a protestant church, but of which variety, she couldn't tell. "It seems we have found a motivated pastor," he said.

  "Did you motivate him?" she asked.

  "His complicity might have been encouraged," Joshua admitted. A boy came running down the street with a wrapped package. "Ah, excellent. A dress."

  "You bought me a dress?"

  "The harbormaster organized it."

  Sarah couldn't believe it. She'd been fully prepared to marry him in breeches, but felt better knowing she had a dress. The church was so small, everyone had to leave so she could change. It was a simple dress, white, with a modest amount of lace around the neckline and wrists, but she felt more beautiful than in the most extravagant gown. This felt honest—except maybe that they'd bribed, or otherwise forced the pastor.

  Taking a moment, Sarah took a breath in the quiet church. She was about to marry—a prospect she had dreaded a very short time ago. Now she embraced it with enthusiasm, marveling how fortunate she was.

  When she was ready, an older man dressed in clerical robes walked in, followed by Joshua and two people she didn't know, there to witness. Her attention was soon drawn to Joshua, who stood waiting for her, his hand outreached. His eyes were patient as if he saw no rush or concern, was only interested in his bride walking with him to the alter. This was to be her husband, the man she would spend the rest of her life with, and she had no regrets. She loved him; she only fully realized that at that moment. She would love him for the rest of her life.

  A qualm of concerned passed through her as she reached him. He was so very beautiful and lovely, but she was taking something away from him. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. "It is an extreme course to take."

  "It is the only way we can be together," he answered.

  "But you are returning to what you so eagerly wished to escape."

  "It wasn't my home, but neither is some empty house in England. I know where I want my home to be, and it isn't a place—anything else is unimportant."

  Sarah wanted to believe him.

  "Please don't make me put a gun to your head," he said wryly. The pastor bristled uncomfortably, but Sarah only smiled as she knew he wasn't serious.

  "Then take what you want, pirate," she said, feeling heat scorch her insides. With a bruising kiss, he did. With the delicious sensations of his mouth exploring hers, Sarah forgot where she was. The only thing that mattered was the desire that burned between them.

  "Yes, alright," the pastor interrupted in his soft, lilting voice. "We'll never get through this if you keep that up. You're not actually man and wife yet."

  Joshua broke the kiss, but he didn't look away from her as the pastor started the vows. He was obviously keeping to the very basics of the ceremony and Sarah didn't mind. She was lost in her pirate's eyes. He stated his consent and Sarah watched his lips move, feeling want in her very bones. "What? Yes. I will," she said, when she was nudged. He placed a ring on her finger; it was too large and she wondered if it was his.

  "I will get another ring, and I will wear it every day," he promised, "but there’s no jeweler in this town."

  "If you would like to conclude this marriage, you must sign the certificate," the pastor broke in. Sarah blinked in confusion before she realized what he was referring to.

  "Yes, of course," she said and they moved over to the side of the small church, where a book of records was kept. She signed her name as did Joshua.

  The pastor glared at them sullenly, waiting for them to leave. Sarah didn't care; it was still the most joyous day there would ever be, but a reminder of danger broke through. Things would go very badly if they were caught here.

  Grabbing her breeches and coat, they ran through the town toward the harbor. Casting off the moment they were onboard, they initially floated away from the dock. They were away and slowly picked up speed as the sails were hoisted.

  "A day's sail and we will be beyond anyone's reach."

  A day and they would be safe. The excitement unfurled in her, assured Joshua was capable of keeping them from any trouble.

  Chapter 34

  The icy north Atlantic winds whipped through Joshua's hair and the men were shifting the main boom to muster more of the changing wind. They were skirting the edge of a current; it played with the sails like a cat curling itself along it, announcing its presence. Taking a deep breath, Joshua paid homage to the sea and the wind currents that played across it. How he'd missed this feeling, of being free and of communing with a spirit so vast and powerful, they were at the mercy of its moods.

  Each passing hour, they were sailing further away. Surprisingly, he experienced no qualms about his actions. Firstly, his wife was sleeping soundly in the quarters below his feet. The thought warmed him from deep inside, making him ache to be with her. She was his to protect, to love, to watch flourish. He knew, without a doubt, she would embrace the life he would claim for them. She would have the freedom to be the person she was capable of being. In no way would he again try to limit her, or suppress her.

  Secondly, the dark undercurrents, the hypocrisy and the unbridled self-service of society's finest members weren't something he could overlook. He and his opinions were marginalized as he believed they should stand by their lofty values, in a society where the misery of others was profitable for some. It was the lack of appetite to address the duplicity that was the rub, that really set his teeth on edge. He had no qualms about his countrymen not being better men, but choosing not to try to be better was unforgivable. Disparaging him for wanting it was even worse.

  And Sarah, poor Sarah, had been a pawn in that greed, sold to the highest bidder in terms of status, influence and wealth. No, he could never leave her to such a fate; she deserved so much more. He would give her leave to be the person she wanted to be, and he enabled his own happiness in the process. He would do whatever he could to make her happy, and he knew the life in the Caribbean filled her with excitement.

  The thought of her downstairs sleeping soundly, her body soft and languid, was too tempting to bear. Every part of him ached to be with her, to lay his head down next to hers, feel the softness of her body. For so long, he had been attentive, ensuring their escape went without a hitch. He'd gone countless hours without sleep, and it had paid off. Everything had gone as planned, and now they were sailing away, out onto the vast ocean and away from anything that could harm them. Perhaps it was time to let his guard down. There were no ships chasing them, and he could perhaps trust these men to keep an eye for danger.

  He did not want to wait any longer
. His body ached and his heart sought the connection he craved. It was time to delegate command for a while, take his rest.

  With heavy steps and heavier anticipation, he walked downstairs to find his bride. She was sleeping when he walked in. The wedding gown draped over a chair, her hair splayed out across the pillow. If there ever was a siren, it was her. Again and again, she had called to him, and he'd fought unsuccessfully. Now she was his. The idea of her naked under the sheets just about undid him.

  At his groan, she stretched her limbs, her hooded eyes opening to take him in. Her cheeks were flushed with sleep and her lips were as welcome as anything he had ever seen. "Husband," she said, and Joshua felt a powerful fission of pleasure work down his spine.

  "Wife," he replied back. Her hand stretched to him and his fingers entwined with hers. She was warm from sleep, almost burning his cold hands.

  She pulled him to her and he stepped out of his boots and shrugged off his coat, letting it fall to the floor before lowering himself into the warm cocoon of the bed. Soft lips met his and he had never in his life felt so at home. This was what he'd been looking for. Everything he needed was here.

  Warm hands stroked up his shirt, working their way underneath until she laid them on his bare chest. He pulled her soft body to him, feeling her along him. Every part of him tightened, every bit of her luscious, soft and warm.

  "I have waited for you," she said, her hands traveling lower to cup his manhood. His breath hitched with the wild sensations, taking over from his wonder at her softness. The urge to be inside her exploded, unfurled like a clawing animal inside him.

  Her leg slid up his thigh, enveloping him. "Mmm," she groaned languidly while he was tense beyond comprehension. Deft hands worked to free him. This was no timid bride in his bed; she knew exactly what she wanted, guiding him toward the heavenly sheath inside her.

  He wasn't able to slow this down, the urgency too great to let him explore her in every way he wanted to. His tip touching her warm heat made every sense he had swim. Rolling on top of her he slid fully into her in one smooth movement, her legs encircling him, cradling him. For a moment, the sensation was too intense and he had to be still or it would be over before it began.