Romancing the Pirate 01.5 - Beneath The Water's Edge (4 page)

BOOK: Romancing the Pirate 01.5 - Beneath The Water's Edge
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“Oh, yes, my apologies. Rathbone is topside.”

“Good. Give us a moment.”

Mister Kipp nodded and stepped back into the din of fitful men.

“Be forewarned, lass.” Blackthorn walked over to a trunk. He fished a key from his pocket and unlocked the metal padlock sealing the chest. “It will become volatile out there. Our articles are strictly followed, and as you know, Rathbone faces death for his poor judgment. The only reason the men are to decide punishment is due to your deceit.” Dropping the key back into his pocket, he then retrieved a flintlock from the arsenal inside and shoved it into his belt. The gun wasn’t a good sign. He expected trouble. “You shall stay by my side while the proceedings take place. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Captain Blackthorn. Quite clear.” He may have to pry her off his side with an iron crow.

“Very well. Let us go. And try not to look so attractive.”

She didn’t believe acting invisible as she did on the merchant ship would work now. “How am I supposed to do that? Hack and spit and grab my tallywags?”
Attractive? He finds me attractive?

The captain chuckled at her boorish talk and opened the door. A breath of sun-baked air rushed in around him, bussing her face and lifting the ribbons of her gown. He stepped out, but before she could follow, he surprised her with an extended hand. She hesitated, staring at the calloused pads of his fingers. Another simple but courteous act. She was beginning to think Captain Blackthorn was a gentleman.

He led her over the threshold and instantly the angry shouts and accusations died away. The captain pressed close behind her as they climbed the ladder to the poop deck. His proximity felt a bit improper, if not possessive, and she admitted she rather liked it. Given her circumstance, of course.

Elyssa took her place between the captain and Mister Kipp.

Waves of mixed reactions from the crew smashed into her. She squirmed under snarls and smiles alike, both sets looked ready to eat her alive. Across the crowd of dirty faces, she picked out Mac. She saw the hurt of betrayal in his eyes, etched into his frown. His disappointment impaled her. She valued his friendship more than she realized. Regret was terrible to swallow. She mouthed
I’m sorry
, but he shook his head and looked away.

Whispers turned into jeers and trifling suggestions.

“Ain’t she a pretty dainty bit.”

“Aye, a real beauty, I’d say.”

“I’d give my fightin’ arm for a romp with this one, I would.”

Criminy, she failed quite miserably at looking unattractive. Elyssa hacked, coughed, hacked again, and spat to the floor. She swore she heard the captain chuckle. He didn’t hold back his grin, either. The rest of the crew looked at her curiously, but only for a moment and quickly returned to heckling.

“Mind your manners, men,” Captain Blackthorn said. “Now that you’ve
met
Mrs. Montgomery, we need to get to the matter at hand. I trust you understand Rathbone had been caught assaulting the lady.”

Rathbone sent her icy stabs of hate and she had a good mind to switch places with Captain Blackthorn.

“Cast yer eyes,” Rathbone hollered. “This bunter been livin’ among tarry-breeks, foolin’ the lot of ’em.” He pointed to the recent
Maraville
crewmen. “You and you and you. She been lyin’ to ya.”

“Shut yer trap,” Mister Kipp said.

“Now she’s tricked the rest of ya. Made ya all fools. A woman! Don’t that make ya madder than ’ellfire?”

“Rathbone.”

There was no mistaking Captain Blackthorn’s tone. There’d be hell to pay if the man did not quiet down. Elyssa wished he’d heed the warning. But Rathbone hardly acknowledged his captain had spoken.

“She should be the one tried, the bitch. Why is
she
’ere?”

Crewman bobbed their heads, wanting answers. Hollers for her head, for the injustice she had caused, grew louder. Elyssa rubbed her neck. She did not want to know how a hempen rope would feel against her throat. One man argued the bad luck they’d surely suffer having a woman on board. They would need to make reparations to the sea and reverse any ill fate.

Suggestions of what to do with her sent a surge of panic through her veins. She gauged the distance to the ship’s railing. Would she make it, throwing herself overboard before any of the pirate crew caught her? Not likely.

“Quiet, Rathbone,” Captain Blackthorn warned again.

“The devil woman tempted me.”

“What? No!” Elyssa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Rathbone was out of his mind. “I did no such thing.” Elyssa stepped to the rail, pleading to the men below. “He’s lying.” She turned to Mister Kipp. “You saw what happened. Tell them he’s lying.”

“I ain’t lyin’,” Rathbone spat.

“Quiet, I said!” Captain Blackthorn’s jaw locked tight.

“Devil woman!”

Captain Blackthorn drew his pistol, aiming it squarely between Rathbone’s eyes.

Dear lord!
Terror balled in Elyssa’s chest.

Mister Kipp elbowed Rathbone in his mug. Blood trickled from his nose. “Respect yer capt’n, maggot.”

Rathbone’s shackled hands flew to his snout. His fiery gaze snapped up from the blood staining his fingers to his superiors, but he saved an especially hideous glare for Elyssa.

Captain Blackthorn slowly lowered his flintlock. Still facing Rathbone, he addressed his crew. “Mrs. Montgomery’s reasons for being here are her own.” He turned to his men. “She is under no fault that I am not directly handling.” He wrapped his hand around her arm, his fingers digging uncomfortably into her flesh, and pulled her to stand just behind him. “She will be punished accordingly.”

Captain Blackthorn was right. The shipboard trial had become volatile. Why didn’t it occur to her that she, too, would face penalty from the crew? What did the captain have planned for her now? Whatever it was, she decided she’d fare better with him than be at the mercy of a handful of superstitious pirates.

“What say you regarding Rathbone?”

The pirates looked among themselves waiting for one of their own to speak. One by one, they deliberated.

“Don’t seem right to kill ’im.”

“Aye. The lass shouldn’t a put herself here.”

“But he shouldn’t a placed a hand on her, no how.”

“I say strap ’im to the guns and cut ’im loose next chance we get.”

Many agreed with the last statement, satisfied with the idea.

“Right then,” Captain Blackthorn said. “If no one disagrees…Rathbone, the
Sanctum
has spoken. You shall be rove to a gun and flayed with twenty-five lashes, then chained in the bilge.” He leaned in close to the wretch. “Best be glad the boys spared you. I might not have been so forgiving.”

“Nor would I, ya worthless louse,” Mister Kipp added. “But don’t ya fret. I got a cane made just for a good drubbin’. Make ya cry like a wee babe.”

Captain Blackthorn smiled and winked before stepping back.

Mister Kipp prodded the condemned man forward. Despite the gun poking him in his ribs, Rathbone paused in front of Elyssa. A guttural growl rumbled from his snarled mouth. “You’ll pay for this, bitch.”

A shiver skittered up her spine. Lord, help her should she ever be caught alone with him again. He would kill her, of that she believed.

Captain Blackthorn stepped between them. “I doubt that, mate. Careful you don’t threaten Mrs. Montgomery again lest I pass my own judgment upon you. Understand?”

Captain Blackthorn would do that for her? Protect her?
Isn’t that what he’s been doing?
The implication of his actions suddenly became clear.

Rathbone’s narrowed scowl shifted from the captain to Elyssa and back again to the captain, but he said nothing.

“Move ahead.” Mister Kipp grabbed Rathbone by the shoulder and shoved him forward.

“Come Mrs. Montgomery. A flogging is no place for a woman.”

CHAPTER 4

 

Upon returning to the relative safety of his cabin, Elyssa gathered her courage. The door latch clicked and she whirled around to confront the captain. “You are a man of decency, Captain Blackthorn, not a loathsome rogue.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. You’ve shown me undeserving kindness that most would not. Dare I say you are a gentleman.”

“My mercy is fleeting.”

“So it seems. You are unscrupulous leaving me to wonder what you will do with me.”

“I’ve been accused of worse, little one. And not without truth to support the claims.”

“Do you want to know what I think?” She cocked an eyebrow, testing him. “I think you have no intention of punishing me. I think you haven’t any idea what to do with me.”

“Dear lady. That is where you are wrong. I
have
decided what I will do with you and I am anxious to administer my decision.”

By the look of his curling smile, Elyssa was in for some bedevilment.

“If I am to give up my privacy to you for the coming weeks, you will be my personal valet.”

“A manservant?”

“Appropriate, wouldn’t you agree? You’ve been parading around as a lad, you should have no trouble with seeing to my needs. Should I need a shave, you will shave me. Should my cup be empty, you will fill it. Should my tunic get a tear, you will mend it.”

These demands, ’twas nothing she hadn’t done for her father. She was making off like a thief.

His eyes darkened as they pierced clean through her. “Should I need to bathe…”

“To…bathe?” Did that squeak come from her or did the captain have a mouse in his cabin?

He chuckled, but his stare did not lighten with his mirth. “Aye. And I’m long past due for a good scrubbing.” He plucked his shirt out and gave himself a sniff. “When was the last time I bathed?” Looking to the ceiling and scratching his chin, he pretended to be thinking the matter over, making a mockery of the whole idea.

“Oh no, Captain Blackthorn. You seem very clean.”

“I should call for a tub to be prepared now.” He pulled his tunic off.

Holy Mother of…

The balmy temperature in the room heated up and Elyssa had the sudden urge to fan herself. Never in her life had she seen such smooth, taut flesh. She didn’t know what perfection looked like, but this had to be close. Dobie’s torso, though not terribly flabby, had been less defined. He hardly ever held her, yet when he did she didn’t quite fit in his embrace. She was left cold, not warm the way she thought a husband’s embrace should be.

She wanted to touch Captain Blackthorn, feel his sun-bronzed chest under her fingertips. Drag them down over the ridges of his abdomen.

Elyssa! What has gotten into you?
Why did she keep having these wanton thoughts?
Control yourself. You mustn’t play with fire.

“Sir. I really don’t think you need—” She flinched as a strident scream broke beyond the cabin door. Another such cry quickly followed.

Captain Blackthorn sighed. “I’m afraid the luxury of a bath will have to wait. I must oversee Rathbone’s flogging. A captain’s duty, as it were.”

She sighed a breath of relief at her luck. ’Twould be compromising at best to bathe a stranger. Surely with a pirate, trouble came tenfold.

He slipped back into his tunic. She swallowed a disappointed whimper. This must be what it felt like for a child eyeing a honey cake in the baker’s window. She could ogle the morsel, but she would not get to sample the confection.
Ah, well. ’Tis for the best.

“But never you mind, Mrs. Montgomery.” He adjusted his sash holding his pistol at his waist, making sure the gun was secure. “You’ve not earned a reprieve. I will get that bath.”

Damn the luck.

He paused at the door. “We’ll dine first. Aye. It will be a splendid evening.”

 

Blackthorn shouldn’t have toyed with the lass. ’Twas an obnoxious thing to suggest she bathe him. Terrible and tantalizing. He hadn’t meant it. Not really. But when he removed his shirt, he saw a spark of desire light in her eyes and he couldn’t control himself. For a moment, just a moment, he thought to undress further. He delighted in watching her squirm.

Delighted even now as she
still
squirmed, fidgeting in her seat across the table from him.

Hobbs, the ship’s cook, sat down a tray of pork and cabbage. He forked a piece of the meat to serve.

Blackthorn raised his hand to stop the cook. “The lady will be serving me tonight.”

Hobbs snickered. “Earnin’ her keep, eh? Gotta a turtle in the galley be needin’ butcherin’ if ya be wantin’ to give ’er somethin’ to do, Capt’n.”

“’Fraid not, Hobbs. She’ll be busy attending to me.”

“Ah.” He gave Blackthorn a wink. “Tough bein’ Capt’n, eh?”

Blackthorn would gladly trade places with Hobbs. The burden of handling the lives of his entire crew, whether they’d find freedom or death, made him weary. Each man’s fate was his responsibility and the weight he carried grew heavier with every passing day. And now this woman…

“Take your leave, Hobbs.”

The moment the door closed, the lass rose and served up a heaping plate of food, leaving little on the tray.

“This food is meant to be shared, Mrs. Montgomery.”

“I’m not terribly hungry.” She topped off his cup and returned to her seat. “And please, my name is Elyssa.”

“All right, then, Elyssa. Hungry or not, you will eat.” He knew better, what with the way she eyeballed the meat when Hobbs brought in the tray. She was starved. She may be accustomed to forfeiting her meal portions in the company of men, but here on his ship, everyone received an equal share. Well, everyone but Rathbone.

Midway through the meal, Blackthorn’s curiosity got the better of him. “For a woman mourning the death of her husband, I find it odd you have abandoned his name.”

“I’ve accepted his death, but I have not abandoned his name. I am a Montgomery.”

“Yes, yes, for the interest of your father.” And he needn’t be reminded of her station, either. He had already spent her ransom money he’d collect on a plot of land, or maybe a tavern, in Puerto Rico.

“If I am to be cooped up in the captain’s quarters, with no one else to talk with, at least I can be addressed on familiar terms with him.”

“Very well. But you will continue to address me as Captain.” For no other reason than to remind her she was still under his command.

“Certainly.” She returned her attention to her plate.

The remainder of their meal was taken in silence and the lass took great pains to avoid eye contact. He didn’t mind. It gave him plenty of opportunity to admire his companion as she ate, focusing on her lips, her neck, her small wrists, her bosom. If she looked at him when she stood to refresh his cup, again, he didn’t notice. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the view she presented as she bent to pour his rum.

“This is the third time you’ve topped off my mug, lass. It’ll take a lot more than a flagon of rum for me to forget about my bath.”

She offered a sheepish grin. “’Twas worth a try.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it was. But alas, I left instruction with Mister Kipp to have a basin and warm rainwater brought to my cabin at the second dog watch.”

As if on cue, the knell of the ship’s bell tolled. Elyssa slowly set the flagon down, but did not release the handle. With the knock at the door, she filled her cup and gulped down the liquor.

Blackthorn laughed heartily.

“Enter.”

Two deck hands carried in his bath water. Two more, the basin. All wore a smirk of envy while ogling the woman.

“Pay heed, boys. You’re sloshing water on the floor.”

As quick as they entered, they were gone. And not soon enough. He was more than ready for her hands to rub upon his body.

She poured another cup. Blackthorn put a hand to her wrist, stopping her from tossing it down her throat. “Pour the water in the basin, Elyssa.” He took the mug from her and nodded to the buckets.

She took a deep breath, likely for courage. “Yes, Captain.”

He leaned against the table and watched as she followed his orders. Giving commands had never been so fun.

“My boots.” He uncrossed his ankles and lifted his foot.

She gave him an incredulous look before kneeling to remove his boots. She tugged and tugged again, falling back on her arse when his foot slipped free. He just smiled at her, giving her his other foot whilst she picked herself up off her backside. This time, she had been careful to keep her balance. Blackthorn removed his cutlass and crimson sash from his waist and shed his tunic. Any chill he may have felt from removing his shirt was quickly chased away with her heated gaze upon his chest. Her cheeks reddened once she realized he’d caught her staring. What a darling shade of rose. This game was far more enticing than he ever imagined. Oh, but he was a wicked man. Moral or not, he couldn’t let this delectable moment pass him by.

“My trousers, little one. Unlace my trousers.”

“Captain Blackthorn!” Her cheeks, and now her pretty little nose, turned bright red. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“Surely you’ve seen a man naked before.”

“Well, yes. Er, no.”

“Didn’t you see your husband naked?”

“Um…”

“Didn’t you?”

She blew out a frustrated sigh. “It was always dark.”

Dark? Blessed be. What kind of man was this Dobie? Wouldn’t he want to see her in the light? Blackthorn would bet his brace of pistols she’d be glorious in nothing but her flesh. Another thought crept in.

“You’re not a—”

“Virgin? No, Captain. Just we hadn’t many occasions to be intimate.”

“How long were you married?”

“A fortnight before we set sail.”

’Twas plenty of time to be intimate with a newly wed wife. This Dobie chap was a dolt.

“Certainly you must see what a flagrant position you have put me in. Are you married, Captain Blackthorn?”

Ah, trying to postpone the inevitable with useless prattle. “Circumstances of my occupation have kept me from the betrothal post.” That and losing the woman he once loved to a wrongful accusation. All those promises of a wealth, status, and family flew away on a blustery wind after his discharge from the Royal Navy. He was innocent and she refused to stand by him. Staring down her nose at him, she turned him away and never looked back.

He was in no mood to blemish the evening with buried transgressions. “As long as you’re staying in my cabin, you’ll need to rid yourself of your modesty. You’re bound to see me unclothed at some point.”

“You are a rake, plain and true.”

If she only knew how much her delightful, pouty scowl spurned him on. She was a spitfire under that propriety. He’d like to see more of that side of her. “My trousers, Elyssa.”

She tipped her chin up and straightened her back. “Very well, Captain Blackthorn.” Defiance leavened her tone. And he liked it.

She dove headlong into the task, deftly loosening the laces. Not breaking eye contact, she quipped, “Would you like for me to pull them off, too?”

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