Rescued by the Buccaneer Page 4

  “Frederica, I am but a lonely man, injured in battle, barely having escaped harm’s way with my life. When that happens to a man, he finds great joy in the simplest of life’s pleasures. Having a lively conversation with a beautiful woman, for example.” One corner of his mouth lifted, rendering him impossibly charming. “Merely attempting to be friendly, my dear.”

  She ignored the endearment this time. “He only rubbed against me. That is all. Then he became frustrated with me. Angry too, I suppose.”

  Gaston stroked his beard. “Interesting. Then what happened?”

  “Nothing. When he calmed down, he left, and I prayed he wouldn’t hurt me anymore.”

  “And has he?”

  “Not regularly. When he’s quite drunk or angry he occasionally likes to punish me.”

  Gaston nodded thoughtfully.

  Feeling as though she should provide further explanation, she added, “Sometimes I read to him. And do some mending. It gets rather boring. I wish I could join the men on deck and do something useful.”

  “So he’s not bedding you—”

  “No! How many times must I say it?” She rolled her eyes again.

  “May I hazard a guess that you are not yet in touch with your true carnal nature?” He eyed her seductively.

  “I’ve never lain with a man before, if that is your inquiry, though I don’t know what business it is of yours,” she said haughtily.

  “That’s a shame,” he said, his eyes roaming over her body.

  His inspection brought Frederica a fresh awareness of the shabby condition of her attire. What was once a sweet, cheerful frock had faded to a covering with all the appeal of a dull, limp dishrag, and her skin showed through the threadbare patches at her elbows and across her middle. The manner in which he looked at her made her wish the dress appeared as it had new.

  Yet he stared at her as if she wasn’t even wearing a dress. He seemed to know what she would look like without her petticoats, which both disgusted and thrilled her at the same time. Her pulse racing and her face warm, she fanned herself with her hand and asked, “Is it hot as the devil in here, or is it just me?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s not just you,” he said with a knowing expression.

  “Why do you look as though you were a fox in the henhouse?”

  “No reason,” he said, feigning innocence.

  Galette was difficult to read, she realized, because he came off both charming and predatory at the same time. Changing the subject, she asked, “What do pirates do with the bodies of the people they kill?”

  “Rather a morbid question, don’t you think?” His amusement returned.

  Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t care. I want to know. When I was knocked out, there were things I didn’t see on the Adelaide. What do you think happened to my fellow passengers? Our captain?”

  His face grew grim. “Was Humphrey flying the Jolie Rouge at the time?”

  She nodded.

  “Then, your shipmates were offered ‘no quarter’. They killed them. It’s a miracle you are still alive. Pirates who fly the red flag don’t usually leave survivors.”

  “I know, but what do they do with their bodies? I have nightmares about the Adelaide sailing about, filled with dead people.” She sat back, pulling her legs up to her chest and hugging them.

  “Nah. They either throw them overboard or set the ship on fire.”

  “So they were swallowed up by the sea, or burned?” she asked slowly, processing the information.

  “Most likely.”

  “If you’re already dead it doesn’t much matter, I suppose.” Her eyes searched his for some form of comfort, some reassurance that she wasn’t alone in her humanity, so when he reached out and touched her hand—it helped.

  “No, I suppose it doesn’t,” he agreed.

  Brushing aside her melancholy, she asked the question that had been nagging at her. “Why didn’t they kill you? If they’re such bloody pirates…?”

  He stroked his beard. “That’s a good question. They need more men?”

  She shrugged.

  “If I prove of value to them, they may keep me around. If not, they might dispose of me anyway.”

  “You’re awfully grim. How did you wind up floating in the sea?” His flamboyant, albeit waterlogged, attire had made her suspicious that he himself was a pirate captain, plus his overflowing confidence indicated he was a man accustomed to commanding others.

  He sighed. “Sea battle. Canon fire almost ended me, but I jumped out of the way in time. Landed in the sea, which was unfortunate. The rudder had been blown off in the battle, so they couldn’t steer none too well. Proved a decent raft though…”

  “You’re a captain aren’t you?”

  “Quartermaster.”

  She tilted her head in disbelief. “Quartermasters don’t dress like that.”

  “Some do. Don’t think meeting up with one crew of pirates makes you an expert on the ways of the sea.” He fidgeted. “Are we done here?”

  The ship lurched. Frederica fell back on her haunches and Gaston steadied himself with a rope along the wall.

  “Wind’s picking up,” he said. “Boy am I glad to be on board. I don’t relish riding those sorts of waves.”

  She clutched her belly and nodded.

  “What’s the matter?”

  She bit her lip. “Nothing. It comes and goes.”

  “Seasick?”

  “I had some of the best sea legs on the Adelaide,” she said defiantly. “But sometimes she jolts me around so.”

  He pointed at one of his golden hoop earrings. “These help.”

  “What? How?”

  “Something about pressure points. You may try if you like.” He removed the earring and handed it to her.

  She accepted the offering, turning it around on her palm. “Thank you, but I’m not sure how to wear it,” she said fingering her right earlobe.

  “Aye, we’ll have to pierce it.”

  “Oh my! Will it hurt?”

  “It won’t feel like a promenade in the park, but ‘twill be better than the nausea.”

  “Won’t you be needing it?”

  He offered her a wink and a smile. “I’ve got plenty of earbobs, my dear. Plenty.”

  His neck was adorned with several gold chains, and though she had no idea where he could be hiding them, she chose to believe him.

  The door swung open and Bradford stuck his head in. “Almost finished, Miss Frederica?”

  She batted her eyelashes at Bradford. “Just another minute.”

  Bradford nodded and stepped outside.

  “Have a little thing for the bosun, do we?” Gaston teased.

  She scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. The man saved my life; therefore, I am kind to him.” She picked up the rag off the ground and tossed it back into the bucket and handed him back his earring.

  Taking her hand between his, he looked deep into her eyes. “Let me help you, my dear. After what you’ve done for me.” He gestured at his wound and handed the gold hoop back to her. “Keep this.”

  “But I can’t.”

  “Meet me later. Your mending needle—clean it. Pass it through a flame, then wrap it in a clean cloth and bring it to me.”

  She fiddled with the hem of her dress, wondering if she dared. What if the captain caught her? He was liable to kill her.

  Jumping to her feet, she gathered the medical supplies, then said over her shoulder, “All right. Meet me tomorrow night at midnight on deck,” and then hurried out the door.

  Chapter Six

  Interesting girl, Gaston thought as he watched her leave. A beauty to be sure, but he was interested in her for more than her obvious charms. He planned to take over the Neptune’s Damnation, and he would need her help to do it.

  He slept the rest of the day and through the night. By the next morning, he felt rejuvenated. His arm was still sore, but it had stopped bleeding through the bandages, an improvement to his way of thinking.

  That afternoon he joined the crew at work. He’d offered to swab the deck, but was given the job of untangling a mass of knotted rope that looked like it was once a fishing net. He joined in as they sang their songs and spent the day getting to know many of the men. From the crew’s grumblings, he surmised that Humphrey was not a well-liked man. They considered the captain rude, greedy, and surly—the kind of man who rarely offered an encouraging word. Typical pirate captain who didn’t know the first thing about leadership.

  Gaston had always been mindful to earn the loyalty of his men. He knew that first and foremost he needed their respect. Developing it took longer and required forethought, but the results made it worthwhile. He had not commanded a crew of two hundred men and a ship the likes of the Ocean’s Knave with his charisma alone. His quick intelligence about people was what set him apart from other potential leaders.

  A mutiny should not be too difficult to execute, and he needed to overthrow Humphrey. If the crew of the Ocean’s Knave won the battle, as he hoped, they would have taken the ship to port for repairs. And as entertaining as playing deck hand was, he was anxious to get back to his own ship and crew. If some of these men wanted to sail with him, he’d make the opportunity available.

  Gaston was given a hammock above Tiny’s, most likely so the big fellow could keep a close watch on him. A few hours after sundown, while the crew slept, Gaston banged his leg on the side of the post that secured the hammock, testing to see if Tiny would wake. After several bangs and thwacks, Gaston determined that Tiny slept so soundly a hurricane probably would not rouse him.

  Leaving his boots behind, he crept up the creaky stairs and onto the main deck.

  Under the moonlight, leaning against the ship’s rail, Frederica appeared mesmerized by the waves lapping against the hull.

  “Frederica,” he whispered as approached her.

  She jumped and turned in his direction. “You scared me!”

  “Sorry. I thought you’d be expecting me.”

  “I was. You still scared me!”

  He held his hands up in defeat. “Did you bring the needle?”

  She nodded and handed him a cloth.

  “Did you clean it like I asked?”

  “Yes,” she said, exasperated. Tucked inside the bundle, the sterilized needle gleamed in the moonlight.

  “Are your ears clean?”

  “I think so.”

  He pulled a flask from an inside jacket pocket. “We’ll swab it anyway. Infection can be deadlier than most pirates.”

  Her silken locks brushed his arm as she leaned towards him.

  “Which ear?” he asked.

  “Do I have to choose, or can we do both?” she asked, seeming giddy with anticipation.

  He patted her shoulder. “Easy—one at a time. If you don’t faint when I pierce the first one, we’ll consider doing the other one.”

  With a tilt of her head, she touched a fingertip to her left ear. “This one.”

  “Alright.” Pulling a rag from his pocket, he doused it with alcohol, then brushed it across her earlobe. “Now, hold your head steady and bite down on this,” he said, handing her a rod-shaped metal bar.

  She looked at him quizzically.

  “You mustn’t make a sound.”

  Her head bobbed with understanding and she opened her mouth and bit down on the bar.

  “This will hurt, but only for a moment. Hold your hair back, take a deep breath and look straight ahead.”

  Her chest rose as she filled her lungs with air, reminding him of a child determined to be a brave little soldier. Holding back a smile, he pulled her earlobe taut and quickly stabbed the center. The needle still through her ear, she drew a ragged breath and cut her eyes towards him as they widened with pain. He’d been prepared to cover her mouth if she cried out, but she impressed him with her silence.

  “Almost finished.” He took the gold circle from his pocket, dipped it in the flask, and threaded the needle through the lobe, inserting the earbob right behind it.

  The pain appeared to intensify, and she grimaced, though she remained quiet.

  He stepped back to admire his handiwork in the moonlight. “Ah. Looks lovely on you, my dear. Would you like to attempt for the second one?”

  She shook her head, the pain of the piercing mitigating her enthusiasm. “I’d like to see if this one helps with the seasickness first.”

  “Agreed. Some pirates believe wearing a gold earring will protect you from evil spirits. Others say it guards against drowning.” He tilted the flask to her. She took it and drew a long sip.

  “Thank you. Do you believe any of that?”

  He shrugged. “It can do no harm, and it is my policy to utilize any advantage at my disposal.”

  “It didn’t hurt as much as I’d feared.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He took a swig and passed the rum back to her.

  She lifted it to her lips. Damn but hers were supple lips, their red color giving the illusion of being purple in the moonlight, which gave her a sexy and slightly dangerous appeal.

  “I have a favor to ask of you in return,” he added casually.

  Her head swung round. Clearly she had not expected this.

  “I need you to retrieve Humphrey’s keys for me.” He knew he was taking a chance by asking her to betray her keeper. But he was betting that her desire to be free from the captain outweighed her loyalty to the man. If he was wrong and she informed on him, he’d hang for sure.

  “I beg your pardon. Why do you need his keys?” she asked sharply.

  “I must get back my weapons, and he has them under lock and key.” Smirking, he added, “Not unlike yourself.”

  She scowled. “Why would I risk doing that for you?”

  “Because I intend to take over this ship and if you help me, I will set you free.”

  Her forehead creased as she pondered this. “You say you intend to take over this ship. And how do you plan on doing that with a couple of weapons?”

  “Not only with a couple of weapons. Other men will join me. The captain is not a popular man.”

  “His unpopularity does not ensure the success of a mutiny. Why would the men follow you?”

  “My dear, I’m accustomed to commanding men the likes of these. I have no doubt of my ability to lead the ones aboard this ship.”

  She eyed him skeptically. “You say you’d set me free?”

  “Of course. I have no need for a slave girl. Once I commandeer this ship, you will be freed and under my protection until we arrive at the next port. Then you may disembark and do as you wish.”

  She pursed her lips, considering his offer. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

  “Excellent!” He hugged her to him. “Let us seal it with a kiss.” Ignoring her wide eyes, he sought those ruby lips of hers and crushed them with his own.

  At first she stiffened, but when he pressed his tongue against hers, she relaxed into his arms. He waltzed her over towards the ships’ rail and trapped her against it, whispering, “You’ve been driving me insane with desire, do you know that?”

  She shook her head wordlessly.

  Trailing kisses down her neck to the hollow of her throat, the rich scent of jasmine enveloped him. He caressed her shoulder, her fair skin gleaming under the moonlight, and her breath caught in her throat as he moved a hand over her breast, flicking the tight little bud that strained against the fabric of her dress.

  It vexed him that she was a virgin. He wished he could take her right here, but he knew better than to deflower a girl he could make no claim upon. Dropping to his knees, he knelt before her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Spread your legs apart,” he said in a low but commanding voice. Reaching under her skirts, he gripped an ankle in each hand and worked his way up to her thighs.

  “What? No!” she whispered, sounding panicked.

  “Do not defy me,” he ordered her. “Do it!” he hissed before disappearing under her petticoats.

  He nudged her inner thighs, and this time she widened her stance. Rubbing his face against the velvety skin of her shapely legs, he walked his fingers up towards her virgin pussy and pushed the multiple layers of fabric aside until he found the prize he was searching for.

  With two fingers he traced her pussy lips, then dipped inside her. He heard Frederica release a happy little sigh and felt her hands in his hair. He considered this to be an encouraging sign and toyed with the curls above her mons. Finding her inner lips with his tongue, he sucked them into his mouth, lolling his tongue round her tender flesh, applying pressure to increase her pleasure. With a flat tongue he lapped at the bundle of tiny nerves at her apex, causing her to moan in ecstasy.

  He worked her body until he could feel it bracing for a climax, then licked the entire length of her sex, tasting her copious juices. When he sensed she was on the brink, he formed a point with the tip of his tongue and swirling tiny circles across her clit.

  Her body began to tremble with her climax, and she tugged at his locks, her strangled cry muffled by the sound of the ship’s sails whipping above them. He held onto her legs and proceeded to lap up the rest of her lusty juices. He caressed her legs from her core all the way to her shoes, leaving passion marks as he went.

  The night air a welcome shot in the face after he retreated from the steamy, yet stifling weight of all those petticoats. Gaston closed his eyes and took a gulp of air before rising to his feet.

  It was difficult to be certain in the dim light, but he’d swear she was blushing. He kissed her again, this time with her sex on his breath. She yielded to him immediately and answered the exploration of his tongue with an ardor of her own. Oh, how he’d loved bringing her pleasure like that.

  “You’re a woman who needs fucking, Frederica,” he growled in her ear.

  “I—I—you’re making me quite uncomfortable,” she said, stepping back to adjust her dress.

  He laughed. “You weren’t uncomfortable a moment ago.”

  She smoothed her hair. “I don’t understand you, Monsieur Galette. What exactly do you want from me?”

  “Your help,” he smiled. Apparently she didn’t want to discuss what had just transpired between them. He smiled to himself, knowing he’d confused her with his voracious attentions. Getting down to business, he shared his plan with her. The next evening, while Humphrey slept, she would find his keys, then sneak them out to him. He thought he knew where Humphrey stored the weapons, and he’d take what he needed and they would return the keys while the captain slept, leaving him unaware his newest crewmember was armed.

  -->