Rescued by the Buccaneer Read online

  Rescued by the Buccaneer

  By

  Normandie Alleman

  Copyright © 2014 by Stormy Night Publications and Normandie Alleman

  Copyright © 2014 by Stormy Night Publications and Normandie Alleman

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

  www.StormyNightPublications.com

  Alleman, Normandie

  Rescued by the Buccaneer

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Images by Bigstock/Jgroup, Bigstock/DmitryP, and Jimmy Thomas © RomanceNovelCovers.com

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  Author’s Note

  In the late 1600’s, pirates sailed the Atlantic Ocean, attacking and plundering ships whose passengers were unfortunate enough to cross their path. It is believed some of these buccaneers sailed under the red flag the French called “the Jolie Rouge”. This flag struck terror in the hearts of the innocent as its red color signified “no quarter”. In other words, “We shall take no prisoners.”

  Chapter One

  1665

  Resting her elbows on the railing of the ship, the girl peered into the water, hoping she wouldn’t see anything scary. The salt air tickled her nose as an involuntary shudder rippled through her, and she tried not to think about the slippery monsters lurking in the murky depths below the creaking ship. Her fear of watery creatures diminished during the daytime, but at night it stayed with her and left her feeling like a child who feared a phantom under her bed. The ocean was a deep, wet mass of unknowns, and the enormity of it frightened her, but Frederica Beauchamp had never been one to let fear hold her back.

  Months before, she had left England on the Adelaide, a merchant ship bound for the colonies, leaving everything familiar to her behind, except for a trunk of her belongings and her best friend Cassandra. During the voyage, Cassandra had experienced seasickness most of the trip and had stayed below deck as much as possible. But Frederica thrived on the cool, brisk air rushing across her face as she peered out across the great, wide ocean, contemplating a future filled with exciting adventures.

  Frederica found life on the Adelaide quite agreeable, and she’d become acquainted with many of the crew members because she asked numerous questions. All the ropes and the sails and riggings fascinated her, and though she was dying to climb up to the crow’s nest, she’d yet to find the courage to do so.

  On this particular day, her daydreaming was cut short when, in the distance, a white square appeared, dipping in and out of view. On wobbly legs, she ran to find an officer. It was rare to see other vessels in the open sea, and when it occurred, the crew became nervous because they feared the other ship would be carrying pirates. And since they were sailing for the southern colonies, their route took them awfully close to the Caribbean, which was known to have pirate-infested waters.

  The first mate was busy having a conversation with a midshipman, and Frederica did her best to wait patiently for it to end. But the longer the first mate ignored her, the closer the approaching ship came. Finally, she tugged at his sleeve.

  He turned, making his annoyance clear with a roll of his eyes. “Yes, Miss Beauchamp. What is it now?”

  Frederica knew the first mate lacked an appreciation for passengers, particularly those with a curious nature like her own. Tilting her chin haughtily, she proclaimed, “Pardon me, sir, but there is a ship approaching,” and she pointed to the dot on the horizon.

  He squinted his eyes in the direction she indicated, then frowned. “Miss Beauchamp, if this is some sort of joke…”

  “Whatever do you mean—a joke? Do you not see the white of the sails yon?”

  “I do not.” Patronizingly, he asked the midshipman, “How about you, Davy, do you see it?”

  Davy raised a hand over his eyes. “Nah, but then I can’t see a far ways.”

  The first mate waved her off. “Run along, girl. Find something to occupy yourself with, and leave the men to their work.”

  Inside, Frederica steamed at his dismissal of her, but she took a deep breath and tried again. “Sir, I am not playing. I see a ship on the horizon. Please alert the lookout!”

  “I told you to quiet down,” the first mate snarled.

  “Hmph! Fine, then I’ll alert the captain.”

  “You will do no such thing! Now stop this ruckus, or I will have you detained.”

  “Detain me? I am merely trying to save you from a possible ambush!” Her voice sounded high and shrill, even to her.

  Just then, Cassandra tottered up on deck, her blonde hair whipping in the wind. “Frederica, I can hear you all the way down below. What is happening?”

  “A ship is approaching and this fool will not order a lookout!”

  Cassandra looked out to sea. “I don’t see anything…”

  “But I do! Right there.” Frederica pointed again.

  The first mate grabbed Frederica’s arm. “Enough!”

  Adrenaline coursed through Frederica’s veins, and she spun around and slapped the officer across the cheek.

  “That’s it, missy. I’ve had enough impertinence out of you.” The first mate snatched Frederica’s arms behind her and turned to Davy. “Clap her in irons.”

  “Sir?” Davy asked, taken aback.

  “You heard me!”

  Davy ran to fetch restraints, and the first mate held Frederica tight.

  “Let me go, you fool! There’s a ship and it’s gaining,” Frederica insisted.

  “Please, sir. She has keen eyesight, always has. Let her go. You’ll see she’s correct,” Cassandra pleaded.

  Davy returned and the first mate responded, “I will do no such thing. This young woman has caused more than her share of trouble, and she will learn her lesson.” He fastened the cuffs around her wrists and pushed her back towards Davy. “Take her down below. I will release her later, after she apologizes.”

  Frederica clenched her fists, fuming at the unfair treatment, when a sailor from the other end of the ship called, “Ahoy! A ship!”

  The lookout shimmied up the pole to the crow’s nest, where he held his spyglass to his eye. After mere seconds, he called down, “Aye. ‘Tis a ship. Better wake the captain.”

  The crew appeared frozen, and the lookout hollered down again, “Step lively, mates!”

  With that, three sailors bumped into each other, trying to alert the captain. The first mate and Davy rushed to the other end of the ship, leaving Frederica and Cassandra standing together.

  “We have to get me out of these shackles,” Frederica said.

  Cassandra nodded. “I don’t see the first mate. We need to get the key from him.”

  “Let’s get closer so we can hear what’s going on.”

  The two girls inched closer to the hubbub that was taking place amongst the crew. The other passengers who had come on deck were being told to go back below, and the captain finally appeared and called up to the lookout, “What sort of ship?”

  It was several moments before the man called back, his voice wavering, “Pirates. It’s the Jolie Rouge.”

  Cassandra’s hand flew to her throat. “Did you hear that?” she whispered to Frederica, who nodded back and shushed her friend.

  “Are you quite sure?” the captain asked, clearly willing the news to be false.

  Time seemed to stand still, until the lookout finally crowed, “Aye. �
�Tis the Jolie Rouge!”

  The captain began shouting orders, and the smell of fear grew pungent in the air amidst the mass chaos that developed. From what Frederica had seen, the Adelaide’s passengers and crew would not pose much of a match for a pirate crew bent on violence and thievery.

  Frederica stood, unmoving, in one spot, eyes glued to the horrible vessel that loomed larger on the horizon the closer it came. Cassandra threw her arms around Frederica and they huddled together, seeking comfort from the bedlam that ensued around them. As people screamed and bustled about in a panic, Frederica considered going below deck, but she remained frozen, a combination of horror and fascination running thick in her veins.

  When the ship drew nearer, she was able to make out the image of an hourglass centered on the blood red flag. Her heart dropped like a stone when she absorbed its fateful message as it whipped atop the mast of the approaching ship. Your time has run out.

  Before she knew it, the boom of cannon fire rang over the Adelaide’s bow, causing passengers to drop to a prone position on deck or race for cover below. Frederica prayed it was a warning shot and not the first of a deadly barrage. Pulse racing, she curled up in a corner of the aft deck next to Cassandra, trying to make herself as small as possible. The smell of gunpowder burned her nose, and smoke billowed in the air, choking her lungs. Wishing she could cover her ears, she shut her eyes instead and hummed a song from her childhood, willing away the terror closing in around her.

  After what seemed like hours, Frederica heard the triumphant “woots” of the pirates hollering to one another as they boarded the Adelaide, pikes and pistols in hand. Her ears reverberated with the crashing sounds of the marauders smashing crates, their triumphant voices interspersed with shrieks of alarm.

  Men dirty with soot rounded up her fellow passengers and herded them to one end of the ship. A pirate wearing a red Monmouth cap and a striped shirt grabbed her and Cassandra and shoved them into the group. When he released them, he flashed a wicked grin made all the more alarming by his one shiny gold tooth.

  The acrid smell of fear filled the air, and a cacophony of shrieks and sobs rose above the din. Frederica attempted to squeeze to the middle of the sweaty group, but the throng of petrified passengers would not permit it. No one wanted to be at the front of the group. Hiding in the back was preferable, and the crowd had clearly adopted the motto, “Save yourself.”

  “Frederica, I’m so frightened.” Cassandra trembled.

  “Hush. It’s going to be alright,” Frederica said with more confidence than she felt. Shaking like a leaf, she hunched over and huddled as close to her friend as possible. If only she could keep the pirates from noticing them…

  At that moment, a large, gruff-looking man appeared from behind the sails. The manner in which the other pirates deferred to him and taking into account his fancy dress, Frederica surmised he was their captain. He wore a dingy purple coat with a white ruffled shirt underneath, his breeches were tight, and his belly made an appearance long before the rest of him arrived. A grizzled, tobacco-stained beard fell to his chest, and his beady black eyes searched the group of passengers. He ordered his men to search them all, and the pirates snatched jewelry from the necks and hands of everyone wearing any. The captain himself commandeered one woman’s shoes and another’s scarf. Some of the lower ranking pirates took shirts or pants from some of the male passengers, leaving a few men huddling in their undergarments.

  A gang of boisterous men came up from below deck, carrying handfuls of jewelry and coins. They grumbled amongst themselves, dissatisfied with the Adelaide’s meager treasure haul.

  In contrast, the captain appeared quite satisfied as he raised an arm and immediately the pirates opened fire on the packed mass of passengers and the Adelaide’s crew. Cutlasses were drawn, and bodies fell all around Frederica’s feet.

  Something heavy struck her in the head, and a curtain of black rolled in front of her eyes. She felt her body give way, and suddenly she was falling…

  That was the last thing she remembered.

  Chapter Two

  When Frederica awoke, she had no idea where she was. Her head was pounding and she felt like she’d been the victim of a livestock stampede. Her exploration of her throbbing head resulted in the discovery of a lump the size of a turkey egg. Even the delicate touch of her fingertips caused her to wince. Her wrists still bore the shackles she’d acquired on the Adelaide, but the chain attaching them had been broken so she could move each arm freely.

  Frederica looked around and discovered she was in some sort of living quarters, meager accommodations, but well-appointed when compared with the large room she’d shared with numerous passengers on the Adelaide. She was trying to get her bearings when she became vaguely aware of a knocking at the door.

  “Come in,” she heard herself say, though her voice sounded far away.

  “‘Ello, milady.” A young man came through the door.

  “Where am I?” she asked.

  “Aboard the Neptune’s Damnation, milady.” The young man bowed.

  “And you are?”

  “The name’s Bradford. I’m the ship’s bosun.”

  His mussed sandy blond hair and his clothes, which appeared to be several sizes too big, gave one the impression of a child pretending to be a grownup. While he didn’t look a day over nineteen, she realized he must possess skill—otherwise he would not have been tasked with the duties of a bosun.

  “My name is Frederica. How did I get here?” she asked.

  “We attacked your ship.” He stared at the floor. “Found you in irons, clubbed over the head. I asked the captain to spare you, so now you’re our prisoner, or rather his. He sent me to see if you’d like something to eat.”

  “You saved me? What about the rest of the passengers? The Adelaide?” she asked, becoming agitated.

  He shrugged. “You’s attacked by pirates, milady.”

  Her heart fluttered with panic. “So they’re dead? Everyone but me?” Her thoughts went immediately to Cassandra, and an emptiness spread in the pit of her stomach.

  An unspoken apology crossed his face and he nodded.

  Placing her hand over her heart, Frederica attempted to remain calm, to steady her breathing. “And I’m a prisoner. What will become of me?” She was mostly thinking out loud, but this boy seemed to be at least somewhat sympathetic to her plight.

  “Whatever the cap’n sees fit. I figured you would be of some use to him.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if his comment was meant to be salacious. To her surprise, Bradford looked innocent. Perhaps he meant well.

  She cast a shrewd eye upon him. “Why would you save me?”

  His face colored and he scuffed the floor with his shoe. “I know what it’s like to be a prisoner, milady, and I couldn’t stand the thought of ‘em killin’ ye.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he asked, “Do ye have any skills?”

  “I can sew,” she said slowly. “And my father was a doctor. I know something about caring for sick people.”

  He grinned. “See? I knew you’d be worth something to the cap’n.”

  “Where is he, this captain?”

  “‘E’s on deck with the crew. You’ll see him tonight. These are his quarters.”

  Frederica lay in the only bed, and as her eyes scanned the rest of the room, she noticed a colorful rug on the floor and walls that were bare, with the exception of a couple of windows. A few stacks of papers and books sat in one corner, a trunk with a lantern in another.

  “In the meantime, I’ll bring you some gruel. ‘Ow does that sound?” Bradford asked, seeming to be trying to cheer her up.

  “That would be lovely,” she said without much enthusiasm.

  While she was waiting for him to return, Frederica thought of her parents. They had both tried to dissuade her from her adventurous notions of visiting the New World. Her mother had tried unsuccessfully to transform Frederica into the sort of proper young lady who enjoyed staying home and s
erving tea. Her father, a physician, worried about the many health hazards she would face during an ocean voyage. In addition, they despised the idea of losing their only daughter to the other side of the ocean. But when Frederica turned eighteen, first her mother and then her father caught fever and died.

  Her friend Cassandra had been orphaned as a baby and had been raised by Frederica’s parents, making her more like a sister than a friend. Heartbroken but free from her parents’ disapproval, Frederica wrote to a distant cousin of her mother’s who resided in the Virginia colony. When her cousin responded that Frederica and Cassandra might be able to find positions as governesses in the colonies, Frederica arranged passage for the two of them on a voyage bound for the southern colonies.

  She did not have to wonder what her parents would think of her current predicament, and she cringed to think they had been right. Sailing to a new country had been foolish, and now she was suffering the consequences. Of course, Cassandra had already paid the ultimate price for Frederica’s folly.

  Bradford returned with the gruel, and Frederica made herself sit up on the bed to eat it.

  “When you finish eating, I can see if Morgan can remove those irons.” He indicated the heavy bracelets at her wrists.

  “Oh, that would be heavenly. They’re awfully heavy and clumsy.” She sipped the bland broth, forcing herself to swallow, despite the lump in her throat. “How did they become detached?” she asked, jangling the loose chains from her arms.

  “I broke it. Nothing worse than being stuck with your hands behind your back.”

  “Thank you.” She drank from a cup of water he’d given her. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

  He shrugged. “No.”

  “How did a young man like yourself become a pirate?”

  “I was orphaned as a small boy. With no one to take care of me, I stowed away on a pirate ship. Not sure I knew what I was doin’.” He smiled bashfully and looked at the ground. “When I was found, the captain beat me good, but he let me stay on, and I’ve been sailing the seas most of me life.”