by Sarah West
The Captain began pacing before his prisoners. “As I’m sure you know by now, I am Captain Logan Jeffries, also known as el Tigre.” He smiled. “I’m sure my reputation precedes me. Despite what you may have heard, however, I can be a merciful man. Had you surrendered when I fired the warning shot, the lives of many of your crewmates, and unfortunately some of my own, could have been spared. And yet, I am willing to overlook this and offer you a choice: you may join my crew or you may remain on your ship, knowing that after we take what we desire it will be burned. The longboat I will leave, assuming you can get it in the water before the ship goes up. We may be close enough to the mainland yet, but are you willing to risk it? The choice is yours, gentlemen.”
One man leapt to his feet. “I am with you, Captain!” he shouted, bringing his bound hands to his forehead in a kind of salute. Logan nodded and the man’s bonds were cut, allowing him to go stand by the other pirates.
Of the twenty-five remaining sailors, seventeen opted to join his crew. The others decided they would rather take their chances with the longboat then serve under a pirate.
The last willing sailor’s hands were being freed when two pirates burst forth from the hatch, a very surprising prisoner in tow. The men on deck were stunned into silence, while Logan himself reeled back at the sight of the beautiful redhead.
“We found her in their Cap’n’s quarters!” announced Buck with a triumphant grin.
“Oy, she’s a feisty chit, to be sure! Tried to shoot us, she did. Too bad for her the pistol had no bullets left!” Jean leered at the girl, tightening his hold on her wrist.
Amber responded by stomping down on her captor’s foot as hard as she could. With a yelp he released his hold on her and she started running.
To her dismay she did not get very far. During her quick attempt at escape Logan had crossed the deck in a few strides, and now she found herself faced with a hard wall of chest and broad shoulders. Her gaze traveled upwards and found the man to be pleasantly attractive, despite the fact that he was a pirate and blocking her only chance at freedom.
“Who the hell are you and what in the name of heaven are you doing on this ship?” Logan found himself asking, still recovering from the shock of seeing a well-dressed woman.
“My business is none of your concern, el Tigre,” she spit back. If looks could kill, Logan was certain he would have dropped dead right where he was standing, so poisonous was her scowl. Intrigued, Logan flashed her a smile.
The friendly gesture temporarily disarmed Amber, and she faltered. Logan used this to his advantage and closed the gap between them, then lifted a hand to her hair, still smiling. “Are you going to tell me your name?” he asked as he twirled a lock around his finger.
She didn’t answer, but raised her hand quickly to slap him. Just as quickly however, he reached out and captured her wrist, before her palm could connect with his cheek. Logan cocked an eyebrow at her boldness.
“I think I understand now,” he chided her. “Who else, besides a common wench, would travel on a ship full of sailors and have the audacity to strike a pirate? Or, perhaps you were the Captain’s mistress,” he added as his gaze raked her body, pausing at the site where her creamy skin all but spilled out of her bodice. Her face reddened, and she struggled to pull her arm free. He tightened his grip. “Answer my question, lass.”
“Lady Amber Townsend, my Captain.”
“Lady? I recognize a Boston accent when I hear one, Miss Townsend.”
She lifted her chin in defiance. “I owe you no explanation.”
“Makes no difference to me. I’ll find out sooner or later anyway.” He motioned for Buck to step forward and then loosened his fingers from around her wrist. “Take her to my cabin.”
For the second time, Amber hesitated. “Your cabin?”
“Aye,” Logan told her with a smirk, “you didn’t think we’d let you burn with the ship, did you?” The tall pirate named Buck approached her and reached for her arm, but she planted her feet and looked Logan squarely in the eye.
“I’m not going anywhere without my things.”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to argue with me,” Logan informed her.
She shook her head, sending red curls bouncing. “I don’t care. I refuse to take one more step until you promise me that you will retrieve my trunks from the cabin downstairs.”
Anger flashed in Logan’s grey eyes. “Are you trying to tell me that you will fight off every single one of my men and go down with this ship, all because I won’t let you take your dresses? I think perhaps you are forgetting that you’re my prisoner now.”
Amber glared at him and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not moving.”
One pirate strode over to her with a snarl and grabbed her shoulder, spinning her so that she was forced to look at him. “Listen here lass, don’t be sassing the Cap’n. If I were you I’d be plumb happy to be alive right now! I wouldn’t be trying his patience.”
“That’s enough, Jackson,” Logan told him coolly. “Let her go.” He took off his hat, ran a hand through his hair and stared at her. Then he sighed. “Pax, Deacon, please see to it that Miss Amber-sorry, Lady Amber’s things are brought to my cabin.” He turned to her with a hint of a smile. “Happy?”
She scoffed. “Hardly.”
With a nod from Logan, Buck led the young woman towards the side of the ship, where she climbed onto the railing and scrambled up the rope ladder. Buck watched her ascent with puzzlement, dismissing his plan to call out to someone on deck to lower the chair to raise her the six feet that the Imperial Shadow stood above the Queen Charlotte. He scratched his dark beard and waited till he saw the skirt of her dress disappear over the side of the ship, then shrugged and climbed up after her.
Logan had also watched the young woman climb. She was unlike any other woman he had ever met, and he was intrigued. Who was to say whether her story was true? Her dress seemed to be of fine material, and the pearls in her ears looked authentic. Then again, what purpose could she possibly have on a merchant ship?
Shaking his head he turned and began issuing orders. Jackson was to board the Imperial Shadow and lower the plank so the pirates would have an easier time relocating the goods onto their own ship, and he sent a handful of men to search the hold. The sailors who had joined the crew jumped at the opportunity to help, eagerly showing the pirates where things were located about the vessel.
Logan was pleased to learn that one of the sailors, a tall, good-natured man they called Noah, was a carpenter. After pulling him aside and talking to him for a few minutes, he was confident that he would be a good enough replacement for Daniel. He sent Noah to help load the ship then called the ship’s doctor, Piers, to tend to the wounded men on both sides.
Hearing a grunt, Logan turned towards the quarterdeck, where two pirates struggled to push a large black trunk through the hatch. Finally it landed on the deck, both men heaving.
“What’s wrong, boys? Don’t tell me two strapping young lads such as yourselves need help carrying a bunch of petticoats and bloomers?”
“These ain’t no petticoats, Captain,” Pax informed him, his face red and splotchy, his voice edged with anger.
“Nonsense. What else would a woman carry with her?”
“Come over here and have a look-see,” Deacon advised him.
“Ah, I see you wasted no time in breaking the lock, gentlemen. This ought to make a great impression on the lady.” The pirates had the decency to blush.
“Well, you see, we kind of busted it trying to shove it through the door,” Deacon said.
“And we thought we had a right to know what we was carrying, was all,” Pax added. “And look!” With dramatic flourish, he threw open the lid and revealed the contents of the trunk. Logan began laughing.
“Well, somehow I’m not surprised. Makes sense that the stubborn girl would be educated,” he said, bending down to sift through the books. “Though I still don’t understand what she was doing sailin
g on a merchant vessel.”
“Beats me, but I don’t think we should be takin’ the lady with us. It’s awful bad luck to have a woman on a ship, you know.”
Logan stood and shut the trunk. “I don’t believe for one minute that you would leave the girl to burn with the ship, Pax. You of all people couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see a beautiful woman every day.”
The skinny, freckled boy of nineteen laughed. “You know my weakness, Captain.”
“Everyone knows your weakness, you damn fool,” Deacon told him with a grin. “You make a habit of running at the mouth to everyone who will listen about the chits you bed every time we dock, though we all know you’re lying and ain’t never seen the inside of a woman’s skirt.”
Logan stopped the young boy from making a rude comment to the taller, stronger Irishman, and waved them on. Still arguing, they picked up the heavy trunk and began shuffling up the plank. Logan turned again to the doctor, who was busy preparing his tools to amputate Abraham’s leg just below the knee, where a ball from a pistol had shattered the bone. Unable to retrieve the bullet and afraid the wound might become infected, Piers had decided the best course of action would be to remove the leg. Logan called one of the eager sailors over and instructed him to bring him a bottle of the strongest alcohol he could find, then went to sit by Abraham, who was sweating and shaking. The sailor returned with two pints of whisky, one of which Logan opened and handed to Abe.
“Cheers,” the man said with a hint of a smile as he raised the bottle to his lips. When he lowered it again, it was empty. Logan took the bottle and turned to the young sailor, who had noticed the doctor’s saw and had gone quite pale.
“What’s your name, lad?”
“Henry, Captain.”
“Well, Henry, have you ever seen something like this?”
“No sir, this is my first voyage.” He glanced nervously at the doctor, and back at Abraham, who was beginning to feel the effects of the whisky and was calling out to get it over with.
Logan nodded. “Give me your knife, Henry.” He did, and Logan offered it to Abraham, who took the wooden hilt between his teeth. “I’m going to need you to come around here, to the other side of Abe, and hold him down. Can you do that?” Henry nodded, and as they restrained the man, the doctor began sawing through his leg. Abraham bit down on the knife in his mouth to keep from screaming and did his best not to struggle, though sweat poured down his face, contorted in agony. Henry looked like he was about to be sick, but met Logan’s eyes and the encouraging smile he received gave him the strength to stay put. Finally, Piers was done and he sealed the wound with a hot poker to stop the blood. Abraham passed out from the pain and the doctor wiped the saw on his apron and moved on to the next wounded man, who luckily only needed a bandage.
Logan clapped Henry on the shoulder. “You just did a fine thing there, Henry. That was very brave of you.” The boy beamed as color slowly returned to his face. “How old are you?”
“I am but four and ten, Captain.”
“Fourteen, eh?” With a smile he led the boy to the side of the ship. “I want you to go find Johnny. He’s a year older than you, but he should help you settle right in. Tell him that I sent you, and that he has orders to show you around.” Henry smiled and saluted, a sweet but unnecessary gesture, then shimmied up the rope ladder and onto the pirate ship.
“Well Cap’n, this here’s the last of the lady’s things.” Logan turned to see Pax and Deacon effortlessly lifting a trunk between them.
“I take it this one is easier to carry?”
“Aye,” Pax said with a mischievous grin. “We took the liberty of lookin’ inside this one too, just to make sure it wasn’t books.”
“And?”
“Petticoats,” Pax told him, his grin widening. “And all sorts of pretty lacy things.”
“Why don’t you tell the Cap’n about the stockings you swiped, you stupid boy,” offered Deacon. Logan eyed Pax questioningly. The young pirate sighed and reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a pair of white silk stockings.
“I didn’t mean no harm by it, I swear. I was going to give ‘em back.”
“You’ll put them back now, where you found them, and perhaps I won’t mention this conversation to Miss Amber. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation with her before she even knows your name?” Pax bobbed his head in agreement and threw open the lid of the trunk, shoving the stockings into a back corner.
The contents of the trunk caught Logan’s eye. Pax wasn’t lying when he said it was full of lacy things. His gaze wandered over the corsets, petticoats, garters, stockings, silk shifts…
The lid slammed shut, breaking his concentration. He cleared his throat and gestured for the two men to continue, then ran a hand through his hair again and shoved his hat back onto his head. It was going to be harder than he thought, having a woman on his ship.
Chapter Five
Amber was immediately struck by the size of the Imperial Shadow. After climbing the rope ladder and jumping down to the main deck, she swallowed the lump in her throat and looked around. Like the Queen Charlotte it had three tall masts with square sails, but the pirate ship was much longer, the rigging intensely more complex. She watched men scurry up and down the masts and ropes like squirrels in the forest, and observed as the black Jolly Roger came down and was replaced with British colors again. Before she could look at anything else, however, Buck laid a hand on her elbow and steered her towards the stern of the ship and up to the quarterdeck. Raised in front of her was the sterncastle deck, with the steering column and two staircases leading up to it, and above that was yet another deck.
Amber was too busy trying to remember the names of the different levels of the ship that she hadn’t noticed Buck opening a door between the staircases until he gestured for her to enter.
She did and turned, only to find that he had already shut the door in her face. The distinct sound of a key turning in the lock only intensified the anger that racked her body. She was a prisoner.
Silently reprimanding herself to contain the tears of frustration that threatened to pour from her eyes, she smoothed down her skirts and glanced around at the room. Sunlight poured in from the large windows along the wall, illuminating the cabin and making it glow. A large bed was pushed against the opposite wall, plush with blankets and pillows. In the center of the room there was a long wooden table covered with maps and charts, a half empty bottle of rum sitting next to an open compass and a thick, leather-bound book. She was about to pick up the book when she heard the lock click and two men entered the room, carrying the first of her trunks between them.
Catching her by surprise, one of them swept off his hat and gave her a small bow. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Paxton Grant, though my friends call me Pax. And I hope we can become friends, Lady Townsend,” he told her with a roguish wink.
The other man rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Don’t be paying him the least bit of attention, Miss. He flirts with all the pretty ladies.”
Amber decided that any ally would be helpful, and put on her sweetest smile. “Nonsense, how could I possibly ignore such a charming man?” she said, realizing that Pax must be at least two years younger than she was. “Besides, I’m sure we will become close friends. And please, call me Amber.”
Pax grinned flirtatiously at her. The other man had to grab his arm and pull him out the door. In minutes they had carried the next trunk in, then left and brought in the third.
Pax winked at her again as he left, but the door was shut and locked much as it had been before, destroying any hope that he might take pity on her. With a sigh Amber turned around and noticed the broken locks on all three of her trunks.
She ran across the room and threw open the one closest to her. In it lay an exquisite ivory gown, carefully folded, exactly how she had left it. She burrowed under it to make sure all of her other dresses were there; they were.
Slamming that one shut, she opened the
black one containing her books. What had once contained organized stacks was now in disarray. A bit of rummaging and counting confirmed, however, that all her books were there.
A foray through the third, now messy, trunk verified her belief that someone, probably Pax and that other man, had riffled through her things.
“I assure you, nothing is missing.” Amber spun around to see the Captain leaning against the doorframe, casually watching her. She hadn’t even heard him come in.
Getting to her feet, she brushed off her dress. “Then explain to me the broken locks, and the disorder.” He shrugged and gave her a wry smile, one that caused her to inexplicably feel the slightest bit weak in the knees.
“I believe Pax and Deacon felt they had a right to know what they were carrying, and I can’t say I blame them. You were so adamant about having your things, they wondered what was so special about them.” He pulled himself upright and entered the room, shutting the door behind him. “But I can promise you that neither of them took anything. They were merely satisfying a curiosity, and surely you cannot begrudge them that right.”
Amber stared at him in shock. “You speak awfully well for…for a…”
“For a what, Lady Amber, a pirate?” He pulled off his hat and threw it onto the table. “A rogue? A scoundrel?”
She nodded and hoped her blush wasn’t too noticeable. He opened his mouth to continue, but stopped when a huge explosion outside made Amber jump.
“What in God’s name was that?” she exclaimed as she ran over to the windows, which, unlike on the other ship, covered the entire wall and allowed her to easily see from them.
“I’m assuming that was the fire reaching the stores of gunpowder on the Queen Charlotte” he told her, studying her with amusement. “Would you like to go outside and watch?”
“May I?” she asked him, momentarily forgetting that she was supposed to hate him.
Logan opened the door and stepped aside as she ran out onto the deck, then followed her. He led her up the stairs onto the forecastle deck where she scampered over to the railing to better see the burning ship. All around her pirates cheered, watching as the sails caught on fire, the foremast cracking under the pressure and falling to the deck with a loud crash. Alongside the ship floated the small longboat, packed with unhappy sailors shouting and rowing away from the burning wreckage.
