Pirate's Proposal

by Diana Layne

  She jerked away. His eyebrows went up.

  “Friends of yours were…waiting for me when I returned from Babbo’s.”

  “Friends?” He frowned. “Were you hurt?”

  “That’s an odd question. Why would you think that?”

  He ignored her question. “I have no friends. You know that. In this business, friends are not dependable.” He pivoted and paced away, then stopped to turn and stare at her again. “Were you hurt?” he repeated, his tone like thunder.

  “No. I was taken unaware, but my men rallied to my defense.”

  “Thank the gods for that.”

  His relief did not melt her anger. “They did have time to leave me a message before they ran off. One warned me not to trust you.”

  “Who was this?” he asked sharply. “Did you recognize them?”

  “One of them. You were buying supplies from him, so you said.”

  Frowning, he shook his head. “I’m not surprised.”

  “What does that mean? What sort of supplies are you buying, that he was led to warn me?”

  Charles gave a half-shrug. “He was not happy with our terms.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. None of my suppliers feel the need to threaten you.”

  “I’m buying information, love. But I did not trust what he told me and refused to pay his outrageous fee.”

  “So his warning was retaliation?”

  “A good guess, yes, but I will find out for certain. This means, though, that our...friendship can be a liability,” he said absentmindedly as he paced the deck.

  “A…” The words stuck in her throat. She was conflicted as to which was worse, his implication she was a merely a friend or the idea their relationship was a liability.

  “A…” She cleared her throat. “A friend? I’m naught but a friend?”

  He snapped around to face her. “What? Oh, I was simply muttering. Of course you are much more than a friend, love.”

  She did not feel appeased. “But still a liability.”

  “Liability? You? Never. If I’d have thought so, I would never have asked you to help.”

  “You said—”

  “Simply a generalization. The attack was an unforeseen occurrence. I was merely talking aloud to myself as I realized…” He went to her and stopped, staring into her eyes as if stripping her soul.

  “You realized…” she prompted.

  “I realized...” He took hold of her arms, his fingers wrapped firmly, possessively over her flesh. “Just how much you mean to me.” He pulled her into his embrace. “Those men will pay.”

  His body felt warm, comforting, secure. “No harm was done.” Except for the doubts they had placed in her mind. Which were, at the feel of his arms around her, washing away as water off the deck. Building desire edged out the last of the doubt.

  Especially when his lips touched hers.

  After sharing a kiss, all too brief, yet potent, he asked, “Shall we move to your cabin?”

  “Si,” she said, pushing any remaining worries out of her head. For now. Later, she’d take them back out and examine them, but now…

  Now, she led him to her cabin.

  ****

  Charles spooned against Gina’s back and deepened his breathing, pretending to fall asleep. As he lay watching, waiting, her scent warmed his senses. Tempted as he was to relive the last hour, he resisted, not wanting to stoke his desire again. He had something more important to attend.

  At last she drifted into a deep sleep, and he slipped out of bed. He pulled on his britches, but the heat made him choose to leave off his shirt. Besides, he didn’t want Gina to awaken just yet. The less noise the better. He tiptoed into the adjoining office.

  As quietly as he could, he pulled a piece of paper from his pants pocket. Sitting in the desk chair, in plain view of the bed, he carefully unfolded the parchment and spread it atop her star charts.

  The paper, purchased just this evening, had coordinates he’d not been able to verify with his charts, since as soon as he returned to his ship he learned about the attack on Gina. He’d rushed to her without taking time to plot the coordinates.

  Now, he checked the information with her charts and drew a rough sketch on the paper. His heartbeat increased. Aye, he’d searched long for this information. Now, if the Spanish attack went well, he’d have the resources he needed to get back to the island.

  And wreak the last of his vengeance, while also serving his country.

  He needed a place to keep the information safe. With their upcoming venture, he could and would memorize the coordinates, but in mounting this attack, plus the distraction of Gina, he didn’t want to trust solely on his memory. He’d worked too long for this information.

  He leaned back, took a deep breath, and his eyes lit on the doll. Earlier, they’d tossed her from the bed onto a chest at the foot of the bed, visible through the doorway. He tiptoed back into the room and picked her up, surprised to find her oddly warm for something made of bone. She watched him with glowing eyes that made her seem almost alive. Even more startling, he felt an energy flowing through her that made his fingers tingle. The sensation nearly made him drop her. No, his imagination had to have gotten the best of him.

  Gathering his wits, he hurried to the desk, sat back in the chair, and lifted the doll’s skirt. She had on a pair of ruffled pantalettes. That seemed the best place to hide the paper. He folded it and stuck it down the pantalettes, but when he held the doll up, the paper slid down. The pantalettes were loose around her ankles, and it was possible the map could slide out and get lost. That would not do at all.

  He studied the doll. No reason he couldn’t directly transcribe the map onto the doll. He glanced through the open door to the bed. Gina was still soundly sleeping. He didn’t want to have to explain why he was writing on her doll. Her trust in him was tenuous at best.

  Quickly, he stripped the doll. On the front of her chest was a carving of a rose. Perhaps that’s why Gina called her Rosa. He turned her over and found her back smooth. Perfect. He dipped Gina’s desk pen into the inkwell and jotted the coordinates on her bottom, then drew a rough map on her back with the details needed to prompt his memory.

  Feeling the pressure of time passing, he blew on the ink. “Dry, ink, dry,” he whispered. He had no idea if the ink would smear if he tossed sand on the doll. So instead he blew. After several minutes of puffing on her backside, he risked the sand. With the ink dry, he slid the clothes back onto the bony form.

  “What are you doing with my doll?”

  Finished not a minute too soon. He raised his gaze to Gina.

  “Mickey credits the doll with saving you tonight.” Never directly answer a question when looking to redirect.

  “Si, the silly man truly believes in Rosa’s magic powers.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “She’s a doll, made of bone. With some words muttered over her.”

  “But holding her, it’s rather creepy. She almost feels alive. And it seems her eyes are watching me. Don’t you think?”

  Gina shrugged. “Sometimes she seems to have something.” She pushed her hair away from her face, exposing her breasts from beneath the covers. “Could you not sleep?”

  “There are too many thoughts running through my mind. Those men attacking you...I want to find them and punish them, but we set sail in two days.” Even as he spoke his brain paid attention to the picture of her before him.

  “It was not your fault, and getting underway is more important than seeking retribution.”

  Seeking retribution was one of those things that drove him. If only she knew. But no sense in telling her until the time was right. If ever.

  His experience with being shanghaied led him to believe it was best not to plan too far in advance.

  “They attacked my woman.” He moved to her bunk. “That deserves justice.”

  “I can take care of myself, you know.”

  “Aye, you can. But let me feel manly and take care o
f you.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “That’s a very good idea. Be manly and take care of me. Now.” She held out her arms to him.

  With a smile, he climbed back onto the bunk. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Chapter 6

  Two days later, before the crack of first light, Gina had her men scurrying about the Gypsy Doll in a well-orchestrated sort of chaos, preparing to make way.

  Nerves energized her, and she worked as hard as any of her men. Normally, she loved setting sail on a new voyage. It always felt like a new beginning, an adventure, looking for that pot of gold. And this time, if luck held, there should be a big pot at the end of this rainbow.

  The prospect of a battle loomed large to temper her excitement, though. The Gypsy Doll, as big, as well-armed as she was, rarely had to go to battle when they went after smaller merchant ships. Occasionally one might make a valiant attempt at defense, but a few well-placed cannon shots generally made a captain reconsider. This time, though, a battle was practically guaranteed. Tension hummed in the air. Every crewman knew what they’d be up against.

  Gina checked and rechecked the cannon, balls, powder, tinder boxes. She made sure the powder and tinder were covered and watertight in case of stormy seas. Wet powder or damp tinder to light it would do no good in a battle.

  “Crewman,” she called to a tall, bowlegged man passing. She didn’t recognize him. He must be a new one Mickey had signed for the voyage.

  “Aye, Captain?”

  “Help me tighten these ropes over the cannon balls. It’s too loose, and I don’t want them rolling around if we hit rough seas.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  The two worked together. One reason Gina knew she had such a loyal crew was that, like her father before her, she was willing to work alongside every crewman, no matter how lowly or menial the job. Gina knew that in truth no job was lowly or menial, every task important to make for as smooth and accident-free a voyage as possible.

  “We’re ready to get underway,” Mickey reported.

  “Make way, then, first mate.”

  “Unfurl the main mast,” Mickey shouted.

  Two crewman scrambled up the mast to release the sheets, and let the main sail down.

  “The breeze is good, Captain.”

  “Crewman,” Gina called up to the man closest to her. “Do you see the LaDonna?”

  “Aye, Captain, they are slow as a sea snail. We’ll beat them out of port.”

  Gina felt a sense of satisfaction, bringing to mind the time Charles had insulted the speed of her ship. He’d be sailing in her wake today. She smiled and climbed the mast herself to the crow’s nest.

  She wanted to wave at him as they sailed out of the harbor.

  But as they drew closer to his ship, she saw no sign of imminent departure. She frowned, put the telescope to her eye. A few men were moving around the deck of the ship, but nothing with the speed of making ready to sail.

  Charles had left her cabin in the early hours of the morning. Why wasn’t he on deck giving orders, making ready? A feeling of dread ran down her spine. Was she being set up?

  “Captain, there’s a ruckus at ten o’clock,” the man in the other crow’s nest shouted.

  She swung her scope that direction. Indeed there was a scuffle. Two men were brawling while a handful of other men watched. A couple staggered in the street with bottles in their hands as if it was the end of a long night of drinking.

  She focused on the fighting men. Actually it was not much of a fight as one man dominated. That man looked like…Charles? She looked at the other man. It was one of the men who’d attacked her.

  A moment later, the man stumbled over a pile of rubbish on the ground and fell. No, not a pile of rubbish, another man. She couldn’t see his face, but it was a good bet it was his partner, the one she hadn’t recognized.

  Obviously Charles had left her bed this morning to hunt those men down. She supposed he thought his smaller, faster ship could catch up with her, and he’d have time to exact a little retribution.

  Part of her felt irritated. Had she wanted retribution against those men, she could have hunted them down herself. The other part, however, felt a little thrill that he was protective of her enough to seek justice.

  She put the scope away and climbed down to the deck, and as they sailed into open waters, she felt confident this trip was going to prove profitable.

  ****

  “A warning to any of you who might think in the future to bother my lady captain. ’Twould be a very bad idea.”

  Charles left the two downed men and the small crowd that had gathered and made his way back to his ship.

  “Captain, the Gypsy Doll left port a half hour hence.”

  “We’ll catch up to her, no worries. Make ready to sail.”

  “Aye, Captain.” The first mate eyed Charles’s knuckles. “Looks like you found the culprits.”

  Charles flexed his hands. “Aye, the hands will need a bit of doctoring. Get us underway.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Inside his cabin, Charles uncorked his jug of whiskey, took a swig, then poured some over his raw, bleeding knuckles.

  Holy Mother, that hurt. The reward was knowing those two men regretted trying to scare Gina and planting doubt by suggesting there was more to know than he was telling. No need for her to know, if it didn’t come to fruition.

  He corked the jug and headed back up on deck. It also served to give any on the docks a warning that he protected his own.

  An hour later, the helmsman guided the ship out of dock. When they reached the open water, Charles called, “Full sails. Let’s give the lady pirate a run.”

  His men cheered.

  Charles smiled. It was going to be a good day.

  ****

  Gina didn’t know when Charles left port, but by dusk that evening her lookout caught his sails on the horizon. He would catch up with them before morning. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  There had been the slightest niggle of doubt that he’d been planning to send her to a trap. As much as she tried to put the thought aside, it was hard to ignore the warning from those men.

  When morning came, she awoke to find he’d caught up and slowed the LaDonna’s speed enough to sail alongside the Gypsy Doll. His men and hers ribbed each other with good-natured insults throughout the day.

  She refrained from joining in their fun, but kept her eye on the captain, hungrily taking in the sight of him. They sailed in smooth water for days, and at night Gina tossed in her bunk, wondering how she’d gotten so used to him sleeping beside her in such a short amount of time.

  What would happen when this was over? They’d never talked beyond planning for this venture. And if this was a success, she’d likely quit sailing for good, to be with her father. Would Charles keep on pirating? She didn’t know.

  They’d been out of harbor so many days that doldrums had set in. Long days of staring at nothing but water. At this point in a voyage, Gina worked hard to keep the men busy with ship maintenance. On the ocean, the situation could—and did—change in an instant, and a pirate who didn’t get lazy was a pirate more likely to stay alive.

  Tonight, loneliness tagged her more than usual, and every trick she knew, even holding her doll, didn’t help. Sleep remained elusive. When morning came, she stumbled out of her cabin, feeling straggly and tired, only to be greeted with ominous news.

  “Captain, storm on the horizon,” the man in the crow’s nest called.

  Her gaze shifted to the front of the ship. True enough, black clouds were forming in the distance.

  “Keep a watch on it, mate. Maybe it will take a different course.”

  By late afternoon, it was obvious they were catching the storm. Charles’ men signaled they were going to try to sail around.

  Gina calculated. The storm stretched on in front of them, looming closer. It might be possible to sail around, but how far off course would they be? The LaDonna was a small sloop—she could make better time s
ailing off course. But as a heavier frigate, the Gypsy Doll would have a harder time going around and then making up lost time. And as a larger ship, the Gypsy Doll would be more able to withstand a gale. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to try to make it to the edge of the storm, at least. Maybe it would be less intense on the fringes.

  “Give the order to turn her to port, Mickey. Heave to and follow the LaDonna.”

  “Aye, Captain.” He gave the orders to the helmsman.

  For two hours they sailed on a parallel course with the storm, until the winds picked up and the sails flapped dangerously. The sky grew dark, lightning flashed, thunder rolled. It was clear they were not going to outrun the squall. Gina had lost sight of the LaDonna a half hour earlier.

  “Batten the hatches. Reef the mainsails; turn her about. We’ll head into the storm.” If they sailed into the storm with the mainsails furled, they would be a smaller target, but the jib sails she left hoisted would still give her some control.

  The men, and Gina too, pulled on their rain slickers, and they all scurried about, double-checking that supplies were secure, tying down the sails. Thunder rattled the deck while lightning slashed bright against skies that had become dark as night. Water washed over the rails, drenching the crew and leaving the decks slippery and dangerous. Mickey helped the quartermaster lash the wheel into place. The power of the wind could rip the wheel out of the helmsman’s hand, making them a bobbing barrel on the ocean.

  The wind howled as if determined to blow her off her feet. The rain began then, sluicing down as heavy as a waterfall. The men were already drenched, but with the wind and the rain and the slippery decks, it was too risky to stay above.

  “Get the rest of the men below,” she yelled at Mickey while she fought to get to the helm.

  She sent the helmsman below, as well, and lashed herself to the wheel, the place for the captain while riding out a gale. Her father had always done the same. More than one night, as a child, she’d huddled in the cabin and sent up prayers for her father’s safety. Every time, he had brought the ship through the storm.

  The rain poured so hard she could barely draw a breath through the thick wall of water. The wind lashed at her, the ship rolled, and keeping to her feet became a matter of sheer muscle and willpower. If she hadn’t been tied on, she could have easily been blown off the ship.