Once Upon a Pirate: Sixteen Swashbuckling Historical Romances

by Merry Farmer

  Calliope found her own quiet, shadowy spot beside one of the veranda’s slender white pillars. Leaning against it, she folded her arms against her waist and closed her eyes. A balmy breeze flirted with the curls framing her face and her skirts. Despite her best efforts not to think about that dizzying moment in Le Reduit’s gardens a week ago when Captain Townsend had almost kissed her, her mind strayed to it once more. Tonight, if the opportunity had arisen, she’d hoped he might even be tempted to try and kiss her again. And this time, she wouldn’t baulk like a skittish girl.

  Of course, a simple kiss would mean nothing to a man like him. Calliope wasn’t that naïve. But damn it, she was twenty-seven years old and she wanted a man to kiss her, even if she couldn’t have all the other things her heart truly desired.

  But clearly her wish would always be nothing more than a silly fantasy. Because Captain Townsend wasn’t here. And it was altogether likely she’d never see him again. In some ways, expecting nothing was far easier because then she couldn’t be disappointed.

  A tear slipped onto her cheek and she dashed it away with an impatient flick of her fingers. It seemed her moment in the sunshine had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and yet again, the ordinary gray days of spinsterhood stretched out before her without even the memory of a handsome man’s kiss to sustain her.

  “Lady Calliope?”

  Her foolish heart leaped at the sound of that deep familiar voice, gruff yet somehow soft at the same time.

  She turned to face Captain Townsend. “You came.” The words emerged in a breathless rush and her hands fluttered to her sides. Good Lord, she was acting like a ninnyhammer.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late and have missed most of the evening.” The light cast by a nearby lantern illuminated the strong planes on one side of the captain’s handsome face. “But both the tide and fate conspired against me. Someone who I was supposed to meet in Mahébourg didn’t arrive. And then I had to wait for the next favorable tide to sail.”

  “It’s no matter,” she lied.

  “Of course it matters,” Captain Townsend moved closer. His eyes were as soft and dark as black velvet. “I loathe being late. Not only that, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all week so this delay has been… frustrating.” His wide mouth hitched in a smile and Calliope’s insides trembled.

  “Oh…” She wanted to believe him. She really did. But she didn’t want to raise her hopes again so she said, “I’m… I mean, I do believe supper is still available. And the dancing is still in progress.”

  “I’m not interested in any of that.” His expression grew serious. “Actually, it might surprise you to know that I am keen to learn how the meeting with the scientific society went. Did you learn anything useful about the dodo?”

  Calliope grimaced. “Unfortunately, no. My uncle has nothing at all to go on. At the moment I’m afraid his search for dodo bones will be like looking for hen’s teeth. It’s been a most discouraging evening. Unless we find something more to go on, I imagine we’ll return to England sooner rather than later. Which would be a shame. To come all this way only to return home empty handed.” She studied Captain Townsend’s reaction to her remark. She was clearly fishing to see what he thought about the prospect of never seeing her again.

  But he simply nodded and said, “Yes. I was worried your uncle’s venture would be a difficult one.” His gaze flitted to the French doors leading to the ballroom before returning to her face. “Would you care to take another turn about the gardens with me? I’d like to speak with you privately.”

  “Oh… All right. Yes. Thank you. I would.” Calliope’s pulse began to flutter with nervous excitement. His request could mean only one thing. And she certainly wasn’t going to say no even though walking was still a bit uncomfortable.

  She accepted his arm and they began to meander down one of the paved paths, away from the house in companionable silence. Lanterns secreted in the low hedges and shrubs bordering the pathway’s edges, lit their way. The air was cool, with a touch of humidity to it and Calliope wondered if it might rain.

  A small gazebo perched atop a low rise came into view. A softly glowing lamp from within illuminated the curtains of fragrant jasmine that cascaded from the domed roof and twined around the fluted, white wooden pillars. Calliope suddenly felt like she was within a fairytale and Captain Townsend was the handsome prince, spiriting her away.

  Once inside the gazebo, she took a seat upon a silk cushioned bench and Captain Townsend joined her. She was excruciatingly aware of the smallest things: the spicy, delicious scent of Captain Townsend’s cologne and the heat of his pantaloon clad leg, so very close to her own. That tiny scar on his upper lip…

  She licked her own lips nervously. “I imagine the view from here would be glorious during the day,” she remarked, suddenly feeling the need to fill the silence around them. Out here, the sounds of merrymaking inside Le Reduit had faded away and the gentle rustle of leaves in the surrounding trees was the only thing she could hear aside from the pounding of her rapidly beating heart.

  “Yes, it’s quite beautiful.” Captain Townsend’s eyes wandered over her face, putting her to the blush. But this time she didn’t mind. Holding her gaze steadily, he continued, “So I mentioned I wished to discuss something with you in private.”

  “Oh… Yes.” Calliope’s heart sank a little. Had she completely misread the situation? Before she had time to think on it further, the captain was speaking again.

  “During the week, I paid a visit to my plantation, Belle Mer. It’s only about five miles from Grand Port Bay. Anyway, I asked all my staff who work on the grounds and in the sugar cane fields if they had ever come across any unusual remains such as overly large bird bones. And as luck would have it, one of the workers—Benoit is his name—came forward and told me his father once found an odd, beak-shaped bone in a marsh called Mare aux Songes on the edge of the fields. Benoit said he used to play with it when he was a boy. He described it as being quite long, about eight inches in length, with a bulbous tip, ending in a sharp point. The bone has been misplaced, but he drew me a picture from memory. And I wanted to show it to you.”

  Captain Townsend reached into his inner coat pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. Calliope took it from him with shaking fingers, and when she opened it up and saw the sketch inside, she gasped. The picture, although roughly rendered in charcoal, looked exactly like the long, hooked beak she’d seen in the Ashmolean museum.

  “My goodness. This is remarkable,” she whispered in awe. “I’m certain it’s from a dodo.”

  “That’s what I thought too,” said Captain Townsend, “after I examined the dodo painting in Le Reduit’s parlor last week.”

  Her heart bursting with delight, Calliope threw her arms about Captain Townsend and kissed his tanned cheek. “Thank you, thank you so much. You have no idea how happy you’ve made me. How much hope you’ve given me.” She sat back and stared at the sketch again. “We must go and tell my uncle.”

  “Your uncle can wait.”

  “But…” All thoughts of returning to the house immediately fled when Calliope looked up. She swallowed. Oh, my. Captain Townsend’s eyes had grown heavy-lidded. Intent. He seemed to be solely focused on her mouth. Then his smoldering gaze met hers and she knew what he wanted. She wanted it to. More than anything.

  His hard, muscular thigh pressed against hers, and he raised one of his large hands to gently tuck one of her curls behind her ear. The night itself seemed to be holding its breath…

  And then Captain Townsend leaned forward and kissed her. The moment his firm, warm lips met hers, Calliope melted against his chest.

  Yes, oh yes, please, her heart sang. At last, at last, at last.

  Her hands curled about Captain Townsend’s large, superfine clad biceps at the same time he cradled her jaw with gentle fingers. His mouth retreated then returned. The smooth, supple slide of his lips across hers was delicious. Irresistible.

  When he applied firmer press
ure, she moved beneath him in a shy attempt to kiss him back. Even though she had no idea what she was doing, she seemed to please him as he made a satisfied groan. He licked at the seam of her lips, tracing along it with the tip of his tongue and Calliope gasped with both shock and pleasure. The sensation was decadent. Wicked.

  And she loved it. Perhaps taking advantage of her surprise, Captain Townsend slipped his tongue between her parted lips, tasting her mouth, caressing her tongue with long, languorous strokes. When Calliope tasted him back, another growl of appreciation vibrated in his throat.

  Who knew the act of kissing could be so glorious? So thrilling? Calliope felt hot and dizzy and completely overwhelmed. Desire thrummed deep inside her. It was as though she’d been drinking champagne all night, not harmless punch.

  She would never forget this kiss. These moments. Not ever.

  When they at last broke apart, breathless, Captain Townsend began to nuzzle her neck. The beginnings of his night beard abraded the tender flesh but his lips were like hot silk, making her shiver with arousal. “By God you’re lovely,” he moaned between kisses. “So sweet…” A sigh gusted against her ear as he raised his head. “But we should stop before we do anything we’ll both regret.”

  “Yes…” Frowning, she placed a hand against Captain Townsend’s wide chest and reluctantly eased herself away from his embrace. He was right of course. They shouldn’t go too far even though her body yearned for more of his caresses. But his choice of words stung a little. Was he ruing this intimate encounter already? “Yes,” she repeated. “Besides, I… I should seek out my uncle. Share the good news.”

  “Of course.” Captain Townsend drew a deep breath as if he was about to say something she might not like. “However, before we return to the house, I thought we should perhaps clarify this situation. Between you and me. Obviously I’m going to offer you, your uncle and his assistant the full run of my estate, Belle Mer, and the use of my staff to aid your search. In light of what has just happened though, I would hate for things to be awkward between us in the coming days, perhaps weeks. Not that I will be at Belle Mer all that often, given my own hunt so to speak.”

  Calliope frowned. “That’s wonderfully generous of you, Captain, but I’m not going to set my cap at you, if that’s what you’re concerned about. We shared a kiss. Nothing more. I’m a twenty-seven-year-old spinster, not a silly young debutante with entirely foolish, romantic notions. I’m fully aware that you and I are charting entirely different courses in life. Neither of us are really the marrying kind, are we?”

  Captain Townsend released a sigh as though he was relieved. “Good. I’m glad we understand each other then,” he said. His expression grew graver. “I also want to reassure you that what we just did—this kiss—it won’t affect your time at Belle Mer. I wouldn’t want you to misconstrue things, thinking I’ll expect any further favors from you.”

  What? Calliope stiffened. Part of her realized Captain Townsend was trying to reassure her. But at the same time he was also making this interlude seem grubby, not glorious at all. And why had he used the expression ‘further favors’? Was it a slip of the tongue or did he really mean it? Was the kiss a form of quid pro quo?

  Self-doubt whispered in her ear: why else would a man like Captain Townsend want to kiss you, Calliope Banks? Despite his passionate words, do you actually think he wants you? Or was he merely dallying with you, teasing you, for his own amusement yet again? It’s not as though he hasn’t done exactly that before.

  She had to know. Summoning her voice, she demanded shakily, “So, the kiss we just shared, Captain Townsend was it in fact, a favor? Were you simply collecting a… a form of payment… for showing me this?” She snatched up the discarded sketch of the dodo beak. Indignation and hurt swirled around inside her, coalescing into a black bitter canker. “Because you knew I’d be grateful, didn’t you? Easy to manipulate. Or did you simply want to twist the hapless, gormless, freckle-faced Lady Calamity Banks around your little finger, just for the fun of it? So you could have a quiet chuckle about how gullible I am later?”

  His dark brows crashed into a scowl. “No, of course not. What sort of man do you take me for? As I said before, I acted on impulse, nothing more. And now I can see it was a terrible mistake. A decided momentary lapse of reason on both our parts, I dare say.” Clearly exasperated, he dragged a hand through his thick black hair, ruffling it into wild spikes. “Look, perhaps both of us should just forget this kiss ever happened.”

  How quick he was to dismiss what they’d just shared. Like it meant nothing. But Calliope didn’t want him to see how much he’d wounded her so she snapped back, “Well, that’s one thing we can agree on, Captain.” She got to her feet, the sketch still in hand. “And just for the record, neither you, nor anyone else for that matter, could pay me enough to trade favors, let alone form any sort of romantic attachment with a man like you.” As soon as the cruel words were out, Calliope regretted them. She’d never thought of herself as a harpy, but it seemed disappointment, embarrassment, and anger at being used so cavalierly had sharpened her tongue.

  Captain Townsend rose. His expression was as hard as stone as he looked down his long blade of a nose at her. “Well, madam, it seems you are not the only female who has held that view. I do believe my former fiancée said something quite similar almost a year ago when we parted ways.”

  “Oh…” Horrified guilt churned uncomfortably inside Calliope’s belly. “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t meant to be so tactless. That was unforgivably rude of me.” She took a deep breath. “What I mean to say is, I don’t think we’d suit. You’re a privateer. You’d always be at sea. And I… well I don’t belong anywh—” She swallowed the last word, hating how pathetic and lost it made her sound. “I belong in England,” she amended with a lift of her chin. “With my uncle.”

  Captain Townsend’s dark blue gaze was shuttered. “Yes,” he said coolly. “Quite. That’s also essentially what she said. Now, at the risk of being accused of ungentlemanly behavior again, might I suggest we return to the house separately? For the sake of appearances, you understand.”

  “I think that would be wise,” agreed Calliope dully, suddenly feeling heartsore. She’d clearly been lying to herself and Captain Townsend when she’d professed she didn’t harbor foolish, romantic notions. “We wouldn’t anyone to misconstrue the situation.”

  “Just so.” Captain Townsend tilted his head toward the garden. “You go on ahead, my lady, and I will follow after a minute or two to make sure you arrive unmolested.”

  “Thank you.”

  As Calliope began to follow the path back to Le Réduit, it started to rain; great, fat heavy drops plopped onto her head and shoulders and the flagged path. She tucked the dodo sketch beneath her bodice and stays, but she didn’t hurry.

  If she was a little wet when she arrived back at the house, it would be easier to disguise the fact she’d been crying.

  Chapter 8

  Belle Mer, Mauritius

  Two weeks later…

  “How are you this fine day, my lady?”

  “I’m very well thank you, Nelson,” replied Calliope in her most amiable voice. “And you?”

  The parrot squawked and bobbed up and down on the wooden railing of Belle Mer’s wide veranda. “Blow me down, matey! Blow me down.”

  Even though it was a windy day—so the bird’s comment was actually quite pertinent—Calliope crossed her arms and frowned. “No, Nelson. That’s not what we practiced. You’re supposed to say, ‘Capital, my lady, just capital’. So let us try again—”

  But Nelson had clearly had quite enough of today’s etiquette lesson as he drew himself up proudly, puffed out his chest and cried, “Get below, ye scurvy dog,” before fluttering over her shoulder and through the open French doors into Belle Mer’s elegant drawing room.

  Calliope blew out a sigh and subsided onto one of the white wicker chairs gracing the veranda. The stiff sea breeze not only tossed the palm trees surrounding Belle Mer t
o-and-fro, it caught at her hair and the pages of her leather-bound notebook as she opened it.

  “At least we’ve made some progress,” she reminded herself as she jotted down the new phrases the parrot had learned today followed by anything she believed he’d generated all by himself. He really was quite an intelligent bird. She’d even go so far to say that she was growing fond of him.

  Just as I’m growing far too fond of his mercurial owner.

  Calliope scowled.

  The unsettled weather matched Calliope’s mood perfectly. Since they’d arrived at Belle Mer a fortnight ago, she’d seen little of Captain Townsend. Which was all for the best really. However, try as she might, Calliope couldn’t forget their kiss or anything about their fraught private exchange afterwards.

  She had been surprised to learn that Captain Townsend had been engaged before and she wished more than anything that she could take back the cruel words of rejection she’d flung at him following their kiss. Although, part of her was naturally curious to know if he’d loved the woman who’d broken things off with him. She hadn’t thought a man like Captain Townsend could be capable of love, let alone want to marry. Maybe she’d misjudged him. She suddenly recalled the captain’s bitter words during dinner at The Anchor and Crown: I would be a fool to believe that long periods of absence would heighten affection. Such is the life of a mariner.

  Yes, it would be a lonely life. A difficult life. It made Calliope’s heart ache to think he’d once had his heart broken.

  And upon reflection, Calliope also knew—because of her own lack of confidence—that she’d probably misjudged his motives for kissing her. Whether she was attractive or not was beside the point. She also didn’t have any sound reason to believe he’d been intentionally cruel and kissed her so he could then laugh at her behind her back. No doubt, devil-may-care men like Captain Townsend often did act on impulse, especially where women were concerned. They took what they wanted from the world and damn the consequences.