A Pirate's Love (8 page)

I
t was a decidedly long day, or so it seemed to Bettina. After she finished repairing her dress and shift, she busied herself with putting the cabin in order. She noticed that the daggers and the whip were gone, but she had expected that. She stacked the captain's books, all of them dealing with the sea and of no interest to her. Then she found places to put all the odds and ends, so that when she was finished, it looked like a completely different room. But this didn't take very long, and soon she was pacing the floor in want of something to do.

She decided to leave the cabin for a breath of fresh air and to have a look at the island where they were anchored. But as soon as she stepped out of the room, a burly fellow shouted that she was not allowed on deck. The man looked too mean to argue with, so she went back into her temporary prison and slammed the door shut.

With nothing to do, Bettina tried to sleep, but the room was too stuffy. She tried to open the small window, but it was stuck and wouldn't budge. She longed to stand on the deck and let the cool breeze whisk through her hair. But no, this was not allowed,
by the captain's order, she was sure. The idea that she might try to escape must have crossed Tristan's mind.

Bettina still intended to escape, though, and as she moved restlessly about the cabin during the day, an idea slowly formed in her mind, giving her new hope.

 

Bettina got up to light the candles when the cabin darkened with the approach of night. The cool night air caressed her cheek, and she turned to see Tristan standing in the open doorway.

“Did you miss me, little one?” he asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.

She backed away from him when he closed the door and started unwinding the whip that was wrapped about his chest, the handle hanging over one shoulder.

“You haven't answered me.”

“If I never laid eyes on you again, I would be the happiest woman alive.”

“I'm glad to see you are still your sweet self,” he said sarcastically.

“And you, I see, are still a coward. You are afraid to be in the same room with me unless you have your whip for protection!” Bettina snapped, gaining courage from her mounting anger.

Tristan smiled at her and dropped the whip on the table. “I will soon prove that I don't need this whip to tame you.”

Bettina did not understand him. But when the knock came at the door, she soon forgot about it. A young cabinboy brought in a large platter of food and put it on the table. He glanced shyly at Bettina
before quickly departing, leaving her alone with the captain once again.

They ate in silence, and Bettina kept her eyes on her food. She knew that Tristan was watching her. She again took as much time as possible to finish the meal, but he did not seem to mind this time. Perhaps he was tired, she thought hopefully, and he would not demand anything of her tonight.

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

Bettina looked up at him, and met his smiling blue eyes.

“I wanted to go out today, when it was so hot in here. Why was I not allowed to do so?” Bettina asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

“Because I don't want you on deck during the day,” he returned.

“But why? On the
Windsong
I had to stay below to avoid tempting the crew. But your crew has gone ashore and there would be no one to see me if I ventured on deck. Are you afraid I will escape,
Capitaine?
” she asked saucily.

“No, you will not escape, Bettina, so put the thought from your mind. Even if you managed to reach the shore, you would have nowhere to go. I would find you.”

“Then why must I stay in your cabin? At least let me have the freedom of your ship while your crew is gone. There can be no harm in that.”

“Not all of my crew has gone ashore, Bettina. And there are many ships in the harbor. The docks are swarming with men. I would prefer it if you were not seen aboard my ship.”

“Are you afraid I will be rescued and you will be hanged for the pirate you are?” she asked.

“Hardly that, little one,” he smiled. “But some
lowlife slave trader could sneak aboard my ship at night and steal you away. Your fate would be much worse than it is now.”

“I doubt it could be worse,
Capitaine
,” she replied, throwing him a contemptuous glance. “Very well, then. How long will you be in this port?”

“Not long. Another day or so.”

“And from here you sail to Saint Martin?”

“Yes.”

“Then, once you sail, can I have—”

“No!” He cut her off, anticipating her question. “You are too much of a temptation, Bettina.”

“That is ridiculous. I am no different from any other woman, and your men will surely have had their fill by the time they return.”

“Yes, they will be sated and quite content with themselves. But if you were allowed on deck each day, trouble would arise. You are very desirable, Bettina, and I will not have my men tempted by the sight of you.”

“Your men have already seen me.”

“Yes, and they know that you are mine. They will remember that you are beautiful, and they will say the captain is a lucky man. But if they were to see you every day, some might risk death to have you.”

“What death?”

“I do not share my women, Bettina. I will kill any man who touches you,” he said.

Bettina shivered, remembering the man who had almost died on the
Windsong
because of her. But it didn't matter, because she wouldn't be on this ship tomorrow. She was just stalling for time, for she still had to contend with Tristan this night.

“You are being unreasonable,
Capitaine
. I have nothing to do in your cabin. Your books do not in
terest me, I have nothing to do with my hands, and it is unbearably hot in this room. Could I at least leave the cabin for a little while during the day? You could watch me.”

Tristan sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I have a ship to run. I can't concentrate on my ship and worry about you at the same time. If you are in my cabin, I know you are safe. Besides, whether I watch you or not does not keep you from the sight of my crew. As for the heat, you need only open the window.”

“Your window,
Capitaine
, is stuck,” she replied flippantly.

Tristan got up, walked to the window, and opened it quite easily. “It seems you are not as strong as you like to think, little one. Now, would you like that walk?”

Without answering him, Bettina rose and left the cabin. She didn't wait for Tristan, but walked ahead of him until she reached the railings on the foredeck. She stood there, mesmerized by the beauty of the full, brilliant, tropical moon hanging above the horizon, lighting the black water. The sea was calm, and a cool breeze ruffled Bettina's hair, relaxing her.

The island in the near distance was bathed in moonlight. Bettina could see the outline of tall, exotic mountains in the background, but the town in front of her could have been a port anywhere in the world. She saw none of the tropical beauty she had expected to find in the New World. But of course it was night, and all she could see were the buildings that lined the dock.

It was a beautiful, warm night—a night made for love. She knew that she could look forward to many such nights when she reached Saint Martin, and she
hoped that she would find love there—love that could make her forget this nightmare she was living.

She felt Tristan's presence behind her. Looking down, she saw his hands clutching the railing on both sides of her, leaving her no way to escape. He was standing so close that his body was touching hers, and then she felt his lips brush against her neck. Gooseflesh spread down her back, making her whole body tingle, and she realized that she must break this mood before he went any further.

“Why did you let me believe that you had killed all of the
Windsong
's crew?”

He laughed softly and wrapped his arms about her waist, pressing her even closer to him.

“You wanted to believe the worst about me, and I saw no reason to deny you that satisfaction, since it was all you had. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not the cutthroat you thought I was.”

“But you are a pirate!” she exclaimed, turning around to face him.

“Not exactly. Again I must disappoint you. I am a privateer under the sanction of England. I prey only on Spanish vessels, as I told you—plate ships carrying gold back to Spain. Do you know how the Spanish get their gold, Bettina?” Tristan asked, his voice suddenly cold. “By the death of men, women, and children. The Spanish enslaved the natives of the conquered Caribbean islands, and they starved and beat them to death because they didn't work fast enough. And when the native Indians were exterminated, the Spanish brought in black slaves and treated them no better. I have no love for Spain, and I enjoy taking her gold and giving it to England. You may be surprised to learn that there are French buc
caneers who do the same thing, and give the gold to France.”

“You lie! All you ever do is lie. If you prey only on the Spanish, why did you attack the
Windsong?
”

“I intended to board her and speak with you, or bargain with the captain to learn where you were being taken. The
Windsong
fired first, and I have never run from a fight, Bettina. However, since the battle was on, I gave the order to avoid killing. I boarded the ship, took you, and left.”

“But that is piracy!”

“That is the result of a battle.”

“You didn't have to rape me,
Capitaine!
”

“No, I didn't. But you are just too tempting, little one. I'm afraid I don't have the will to resist you.” He sounded as if he were teasing her. Then he pulled her to him and his lips crushed down on hers. When she tried to push him away, he only pressed her closer, molding her body against his. She could feel his desire, and she knew what this kiss would lead to. What could she do this time? How could she fight the pleasure that was already creeping through her body?

Tristan released her suddenly, and Bettina fell back against the rail, breathing heavily. She stared at his amused expression, clearly illuminated by the moonlight, and became furious that he could play on her senses so easily.

“Come,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her behind him as he walked back to his cabin.

Inside the privacy of the small cabin, Tristan closed the door, and Bettina ran to the opposite side of the long table. Seeing the accursed whip lying there, she picked it up and threw it out the open
window. With this done, she turned to face Tristan defiantly.

But he was obviously amused. “You're not planning on resisting me, are you, little one? I have thought about this moment all day.” His soft blue eyes met and held her dark-green ones. “Remove your dress, Bettina. The time has come.”

What can I do? Bettina thought wretchedly. I am such a coward! I fear the whip more than death itself. I should have jumped ship today, but it is too late now.

“Now!” Tristan bellowed.

She screamed her anger and frustration at him. She ripped her mended dress open again, then yanked the sleeves off, tearing the dress further. She pulled her shift over her head and threw it at Tristan. Then she went to the bed and waited.

Tristan undressed quickly and came to her. When he lay down beside her, she looked at him wildly, her green eyes wide and filled with flame.

“I hate you, Tristan, with all my being. I loathe your touch, so if you must rape me, then be quick about it,” Bettina hissed.

But he paid her no mind. “Not tonight, Bettina. Tonight you will discover the joys of being a woman.”

“Your pride is great,
monsieur
.” She laughed bitterly. “It would take a better man than you to teach me those joys.”

When his face darkened, she knew that her gibe had worked. He spread her legs and entered her cruelly, but she welcomed the pain. This time she was too distraught to feel any pleasure, and only when he finished with her did she relax.

“Why do you do this to yourself, Bettina? Why
do you deny yourself the pleasure I can give you?”

She opened her eyes to see him staring down at her, and she realized that the danger was not yet over.

“I deny myself nothing. I merely spoke the truth,” she returned, her tone full of contempt.

“You're a witch.”

“And you,
monsieur
, are the Devil incarnate.”

The room filled with his laughter. “If I am, then we make a good pair, you and I.”

He left the bed and put on his breeches, then poured wine into his tankard. Before he drank, he bent down, picked up her dress, and laid it over the chair.

“You will have to take better care of your clothes, little one. You would not look so appealing wearing mine.”

“I have other dresses,” she replied tartly.

“Do you? And where might they be?”

“In my trunks, of course.”

“No trunks were brought aboard my ship, Bettina. Only you, your servant, and your dowry.”

Her eyes opened wide. “You are lying to me again!”

“Why should I lie about this?”

“But my trousseau was in one of those trunks!” she yelled at him.

“I'm sure your future husband will purchase you another trousseau.”

“But I don't want another one!” She felt the tears coming, but she couldn't stop them. “I worked for a month on my wedding dress. It was a beautiful gown and you—you—” She burst into tears, hiding her face in the pillow.

“Mother of God! You don't cry over your loss of virginity, but you cry over a lost dress. Blast all women and their tears!” Tristan grabbed his shirt and stalked from the cabin, slamming the door as he left.