To Marry A Marauder

by Heather C. Myers

  “Where are we going?” she asked him softly as she crawled off of the balcony and onto the thick tree.

  When her eyes scanned the dock, her mouth dropped in shock. A large, menacing ship with their cannons facing the city was looming in the ocean. A smoky haze surrounded the ship due to the cannon fire. Downtown, a stream of women were shooting either long rifles or pistols, all dressed in tunics and slacks with sneers across their beautiful faces. Port Royal was being attacked, she realized.

  “Away,” Charlie whispered right from behind her, and the two quickly climbed down the tree.

  With Charlie leading, they made their way as quickly as they could to the docks. After hopping into a vacant rowboat, Charlie turned to help Brooke in but was surprised to find the young woman hopping into the boat beside him. He rowed away from the threatening ship to a more secluded area where a grand ship was hidden from sight. Brooke was awed by the sight of it and even more surprised when Charlie motioned for her to climb the rope attached to the said ship. Brooke did as he told her to, and although she had no upper body strength, she pushed herself to go as quickly she possibly could.

  As Charlie began to climb the rope from behind Brooke, his eyes could not help but be drawn toward her delectably taut rear. His brow rose as she swayed her hips, pulling herself up, and a delighted smirk etched onto his face. Ah, a woman’s beauty was irresistible.

  When Brooke reached the railing of the ship, she managed to hoist herself up with a low grunt. She flung her right leg horizontally, managing to hook her ankle on the railing. Once she felt secure, she pulled herself over and nearly crumbled down onto the floor of the ship. Her knees were shaky beneath her but she managed to hold her ground. As she dusted off her hands, Charlie leaped up gracefully to stand beside her.

  “Captain!” a voice exclaimed from behind Brooke. She turned, and instinctively took a step closer to Charlie. It was Heath who had called out to him, she noticed. “We almost left! We thought you had fallen behind!”

  Charlie shook his head, a smile on his face. “I was delayed,” he explained quickly and then tilted his head in Brooke’s general direction. “I had to save a certain damsel in distress, as it were.”

  Brooke glanced up sharply at Charlie but said nothing to get him to retract his statement. His eyes slid back to Heath, except now the first mate was not alone. A handful of Charlie’s crew had stopped what they were doing to see who Charlie was referring to, and when they noticed Brooke standing slightly behind Charlie, her eyes darting around her alien surroundings, they could not help but grin at how intimidated she was. A small crowd had gathered around Heath, and they all looked at the pirate captain expectantly. Some were eyeing Brooke with curiosity while others were blatantly staring with lust in their eyes. Brooke could not help but gulp, and she took another step toward Charlie so that now half of her body was securely behind him.

  When Charlie noticed Brooke standing closer to him, he could not help but grin, and his eyes reflected warmth in them. He cleared his throat, his eyes narrowing at his crew, but he waited until their murmurs died down.

  “Gents!” he called, making sure that everyone could hear his voice. He indicated to Brooke once again, this time gesturing with his hands. “This is Miss Brooke Cunningham, and she will currently be residing as a guest on this ship.”

  “Will ye be sharin’ this guest, Capt’n?” a man questioned aloud, and Brooke sneered with disgust.

  “Good question!” Charlie acknowledged with the nod of his head. “However, I am sorry to inform you that the answer to that question is a resounding absolutely not.” He paused and glanced at each and every member of his crew. “Men, she is not to be touched whatsoever. No shaking her hand or patting her back unless you wish to receive a flogging or worse.” His eyes narrowed darkly, nearly blending in with the kohl that outlined his eyes. He waited for a response from his crew.

  “Aye, Capt’n,” Heath said after a moment. The crew followed his suit, murmuring their affirmative responses.

  Brooke gazed at the men, straightening her stance slightly. Most of them began to return to their duties onboard, but two men were still standing there, whispering among themselves quickly, their beady eyes shifting left and right. One of the men had spoken earlier about her, the one who had wanted Charlie to share her. Brooke stared at him; his stringy black hair hung past his shoulders, and one eye squinted so that it nearly closed. He had a protruding nose and a jutting chin, and while he was taller than Brooke, he was shorter than most of the men onboard. He hunched over slightly, and whiskers covered his face. As he spoke, his one working eye shifted back and forth suspiciously, and most of his front teeth were missing.

  There was something strange about the hushed conversation that was passing between the two pirates, and she was curious as to what they were saying. As though the man knew Brooke was looking at him, his steely eyes snapped to stare at her, and slowly, a toothless grin appeared on his face. A shiver slid down Brooke’s back, nearly making her shudder.

  Brooke quickly averted her eyes quickly to look up at Charlie, who seemed to be conversing with Heath.

  Charlie glanced down at Brooke after he finished speaking and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. “Come,” he said, tilting his head to the lone cabin on deck. “Me and you…you and I…” He wiggled his eyes with teasing provocation. “We need to speak privately.” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes. Heath smiled at the exchange between the two and headed over to the helm to set sail.

  “I thought you said no touching me unless one wants a flogging,” Brooke murmured as the captain led her to his quarters.

  “You seem to have misheard me, darling,” Charlie informed her. “I told the crew not to touch you; I never mentioned anything about myself.” He gazed down at her, a cheeky grin spreading onto his face. “But I will still give you permission to flog me if you desire to do so.”

  “While it tempts me to take you up on your so-generous offer, something tells me that you would enjoy it too much,” Brooke said, trying to snap at him, but even she could not keep an amused smile off of her face, and nor did she attempt to remove his arm from around her waist.

  5

  When Brooke stepped into the captain’s quarters, she was surprised at how luxurious it was. It was neat and organized with a large bed in the center of the room. The bed had big, fluffy pillows on it, and crimson-colored blankets. The white sheets were elegant, and most visitors had mistaken them as silk, but they were not. Of course, Charlie never revealed that fact. A large window was adjacent to the bed, giving the occupant a beautiful view of the sparkling sea. There was a desk that was placed against the wall with papers neatly placed on either corner of the desk. The papers had writing on them, but some were maps, some were lists, others were coordinates. A basket of green apples sat in the middle of the desk for anyone who wanted one. There were three different trunks that were propped against the wall, and inside them were the captain’s clothing. Upon entering, one encountered a beautiful silk rug bought in China. On the opposite wall, a bookshelf rested, filled with many, many books. Brooke eyed the spines of the books with interest. Charlie was obviously an educated man, for names like Chaucer, Shakespeare, and Dante were etched into the spines. Every piece of furniture in his cabin was nailed down so if the sea chose to go on a rampage, Charlie’s room would not be in ruins.

  Charlie watched Brooke scrutinized his room after he shut his door. He watched her eyes widen in surprise at his room, and they sparkled in content when they reached his bookshelf. He smiled as he watched her; Brooke was like a painting he could not look away from. He seemed to notice something more fascinating about her every time he looked at her, and he could not explain why. Charlie had had his fair share of women before, but they seemed to run together after a period of time, and most of them had been erased from his memory. Of course, there were the usual wenches he had made an acquaintance with at every port he stopped at, but even he knew there was nothing spe
cial about them.

  “You have a lovely room,” Brooke murmured politely, turning so that she finally faced him.

  “My thanks,” Charlie said, turning to go over to his trunks.

  Brooke watched with an arched brow as he rummaged through them before pulling out a small, white tunic as well as black slacks that went down to the knee. He handed the bundle of clothing to Brooke, who had a questionable sparkle in her eyes.

  “These clothes are for you to wear until you get better fitting ones,” he explained to her seriously. “I suggest you change into these since they will be much more comfortable to wear, and they will be easier to move around in. Also, they are less flattering which might make the crew less willing to…well, you know. It doesn’t do a man much good if a woman has accentuated assets hanging out, especially if he is forbidden to touch her. This just prompts said man to desire her even more.”

  Brooke scrunched her nose in confusion. “I am not following your logic,” she told him honestly. “Wouldn’t the punishment repel him from her?”

  Charlie shook his head. “See it this way, love,” he said, placing his hands out, ready to explain it to her. “If you show a man a beautiful woman but tell him he can’t have her, this makes him want to have her, even if he didn’t think he did upon first glance. Then tell him if he attempts to claim her as his own, he will be punished…. Why, that just makes her that much more valuable, enticing, forbidden….” His voice had gotten lower with each word, and he turned as he spoke, going over to his desk to grab a green apple. He looked back at Brooke and tossed the apple into the air and caught it with his same hand. “Like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.”

  Brooke nodded and her mouth formed a small “O” at the realization of what Charlie was trying to say. “The woman is the forbidden apple?” she asked, shifting the clothes around in her arms.

  “Exactly!” Charlie exclaimed happily and then took a bite of the apple he had previously been tossing. He chewed rather quickly, and the swallowed while taking a step closer to her.

  “Now that you are here, love, there are going to be some rules to follow and articles to sign before we can proceed,” he said, his dark eyes becoming serious once again. Brooke stayed silent as Charlie continued, pacing back and forth the length of his cabin as he did so. His hands were formally placed behind his back as he began to tell her his rules. “I am captain of this ship, and shall be addressed as such.

  “My orders will be followed without objection.

  “Since you are a woman, you will get your own room below deck, and I will show it to you once you are dressed properly. It is right next to Heath’s room, which happens to be away from the crew’s bunk, which is down the same hall.

  “Since you are on my ship, I expect you to work. Just because you have a pretty face does not mean you can get away with not working. To determine what you are capable of, I must need to find what you are good at,” he concluded finally, just as he stopped in front of the young woman. He looked at her expectantly, patiently waiting for her answer.

  “I am good at writing and mathematics,” Brooke said, thinking quickly. “I could help you calculate your supplies and whatnot. I have some prior knowledge of sailing, but not due to firsthand experience….” She let her voice trail off, trying desperately to think of more to say. For some odd reason, she wanted Charlie to know that she was able-bodied.

  Charlie’s lips curled into a smile as he heard her response. “Can you cook?” he asked her as his brow rose. “Can you clean?”

  “Actually, I lack the necessary knowledge to perform those two tasks efficiently,” she replied quickly. She had tried to cook once when her mother was alive, but her experiment turned out charred. She and her mother shared a laugh at Brooke’s attempt, but her father had scolded her for wasting food. When it came to cleaning, however, Brooke cringed. It was much easier to hire help to clean than to do it herself, she had reasoned.

  Charlie’s eyes sparkled in amusement, and he clapped his hands together. “Lucky for you, I am incredibly educated in matters of cleaning, and Heath is skilled in the art of cooking,” he told her with a grin. “And even luckier for you, we are two gents willing to share this information with you for naught but your undivided attention.”

  Brooke frowned and glanced at the clothes in her hands.

  “Now, you change and I will introduce you, once again, to Heath, and he can personally introduce you to the kitchen,” Charlie told her and turned around so that his back was now facing her. He reached up and covered his eyes with his long fingers.

  “Delightful,” Brooke managed dryly with a small scowl on her face. She glanced up at Charlie and her mouth fell open. Did he actually expect her to change while he was still in the room? “Are you going to stand there when I change? How am I to be certain that you will not peek at me?”

  “You said you trusted me,” Charlie pointed out.

  Brooke opened her mouth to argue but shut it when she realized she could say nothing to argue with him. He had specifically asked her if she trusted him, and after she answered by leaving her home, her family, friends, and wealth behind, he had saved her life. She was caught, trapped, and she sighed her unwilling surrender.

  “I need you to untie my corset, if you would not mind,” she asked him meekly.

  The two seemed to turn in unison, with Brooke’s back facing Charlie’s front. Brooke did not have to pull her hair over her shoulder due to the fact that it was pinned up, despite the errant strands of hair that slipped out of her pins. When Charlie reached down to comply with her request, he faltered slightly. The dress she was wearing was not only square-cut in front, but also had the same cut in back, so Charlie had a clear view of the very beginnings of her back. He had the sudden urge to place his lips on her smooth back, tasting her, feeling her shiver because of his soft touch. He lifted his fingers to brush the middle of her back but stopped himself. Silently, he untied the corset, cautious to make sure that the lace he was untying did not get damaged. As the corset became loose, he felt Brooke’s breathing become deeper, and a low chuckle echoed in his mouth, but he bit his lip to keep it from releasing. What pain women went through to be fashionable. Charlie was never fond of corsets; they were time-consuming to remove, and although it enhanced a woman’s beauty, it took away from her beauty as well.

  When Brooke felt his fingers leave her bodice, she turned to look over her shoulder to make sure that he had turned around. However, instead of meeting his back, her eyes met his. She blushed under his scrutinizing gaze and cleared her throat. She lifted her hand, and with her index finger, twirled it in a circle, indicating that he should turn around.

  Charlie forced a smile when he realized what Brooke was waiting for. “My apologies,” he told her, and resumed his position, facing his desk, while she faced his back to make sure that he would not turn around.

  Brooke swallowed and slowly began to remove her clothing. As she took off her corset along with the top of her dress, a folded piece of paper fluttered to the ground. She frowned at it, but then glanced up sharply at Charlie to make sure that he was still turned from her and that his eyes were covered. Instead of grabbing the fallen paper, she quickly stripped herself of her clothing, and stood there, naked in her stranger’s room. She had never been naked in the same room as a man before, and her thoughts conflicted with themselves. She was vulnerable, as though she was standing at the edge of a cliff, in a position where she could easily fall. She was nervous that he might catch her without any clothes on, and as a result, insecure because she knew that there were flaws in her body, and did not want Charlie to see them all. And yet, at the other end of the spectrum, a small part of her felt exhilarated because of her vulnerability, and out of all of her feelings, the latter one scared her the most because she did not understand it.

  Brooke grabbed the clothing Charlie gave her and slipped them on as quickly as she could. The black slacks were long on her, reaching her ankles instead of her knees, and the white tunic wa
s tied as tight as it could be, and while it hid her goods, it still hung loosely on her. Indeed, these articles of clothing were much more comfortable than her dress, and yet she still felt as vulnerable as she did when she was naked. However, his scent was deeply molded into the clothing, and a sense of comfort washed over her.

  “You may turn around,” Brooke told Charlie as she slipped her feet into her flats.

  Charlie turned and studied her as she knelt down to gather the discarded dress in her arms. It was a strange thing; she looked as good in casual attire as she did in formal attire. She stood then, and Charlie let an approving smile adorn his face. He rather liked the picture of her in his clothes.

  As Charlie’s eyes slid up and down her body, he noticed a folded piece of paper next to Brooke’s feet. He glanced at Brooke after he grabbed it, and the young woman had dropped her mouth a bit when she saw he had the paper in his hands. Charlie looked down at it and slowly unfolded it. What he saw caused his brow to raise and his eyes to widen in surprise. He recognized these islands from tales he had heard, and he recognized the big, black X that indicated a treasure’s whereabouts. He had heard this particular tale since he was a lad but never believed it to be true. Yet now he had the proof in his hands.

  “Where did you get this, Brooke?” he asked her, dropping his arm to look at Brooke.

  It surprised her that Charlie had called her by her first name. Usually, he used some term of endearment in place of her name, and while she rather liked hearing him call her “love” or “darling”, the way he said her name caused a shiver to slide down her back. He was serious, she noticed, as serious as she had ever seen him. He was not accusing her of anything; the way he looked at her was with patience, imploring her to answer when she chose to do so. She could not explain why, but she felt as though she could safely divulge herself without being reprimanded.