A Pirate's Ransom (3 page)

My knees knocked beneath my skirts, but I held my head high and with all the decorum of a Countess, I swept into the Pirate Lord’s quarters. I heard tales of what pirates did to women, but I was driven by a determination not to allow him to see my fear.

“Welcome aboard my humble ship, Countess. There is no need to be afraid. It is not my intention to harm you. Please, take a seat,” he said, indicating a plush armchair. Then facing my jailer, he added, “That will be all, Mister Taylor.”

“Aye, Captain.” My tormenter started to back out of the opened door.

“Mister Taylor,” the Captain said.

“Aye.”

“Would you kindly see to it that some tea is brought in?”

“Aye, Captain, that I will,” he murmured, then continued backing out of the room and closed the door behind him. My heart lurched when the latch clicked into place, but I tried to remain calm.

“I assume you like tea, Countess?

“Yes, tea would be lovely,” I answered in a shaking voice. I couldn’t help but wonder why he was extending all these pleasantries, when he’d kidnapped me and was now holding me prisoner. The situation seemed nearly humorous, and with my added nervousness, a giggle bubbled out of me.

“You find humor in something, Countess?” He cocked his head to the side.

“I merely wonder why you seem to be extending pleasantries when, in fact, I am your prisoner.”

“Please, do not think of yourself as my prisoner, Milady. You are free to venture about the ship, however, although I have given the strictest of orders that you are not to be touched, I must caution you not to venture too far from my side. Anyone who violates my orders must answer to me, yet I fear the sight of you would test the will of any man, let alone my crew. I’m afraid it has been quite some time since we have made port.”

A sheepish grin captured his lips and his clear green eyes danced with amusement. My cheeks burned in a flush of heat that stung from my neck to my hairline as the meaning of his statement dawned on me, and I looked down to my lap. Trying to avoid eye contact with the handsome pirate, I allowed my gaze to travel around his vast quarters.

The dark wood of the walls gave a rich feeling to the room, and I couldn’t help but note the elegant furnishings and masculine décor of the cabin. One corner of the room was occupied by a grand desk, the size of which I have never seen. There was a long dining table made of dark wood surrounded by plush chairs in the opposite corner. But my pulse raced when I noticed the oversized bed consuming a good portion of the room. When I glanced at my captor, his amusement was written all over his face, and his eyes sparkled with it.

I was thankful for the knock upon the door with the delivery of our tea, but butterflies stirred in my stomach as soon as we were alone again. My captor half sat, half leaned lazily against the edge of the table and let his eyes travel over me.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded.

“That depends, Milady,” he answered distractedly, giving some attention to the tea tray.

“On what?”

“On whether my ransom demands are met.”

“And if they are not?”

“I have to admit, I have not considered that possibility.”

“Perhaps you should have given that part of your plan a bit more consideration, Captain.”

“Milady, you must think me callous, but I have failed to introduce myself. Please forgive me. I am Edmund Drake, Captain of this fine vessel.” He rose and took my hand.

Rising to my feet on legs of jelly, my eyes met his as he brought my hand to his lips. His kiss was soft upon my fingers and my breath caught in my throat. His crystal green eyes sparkled with a smile he seemed to be suppressing.
Get a hold of yourself. This cad is so cock sure of himself, I imagine he has had this effect on many a maiden
. I snatched my hand away from his as if I had been burned.

“How dare you!” I gasped.

Ignoring my outrage, he continued. “Milady, I would never be so bold as to accuse you of being ill-mannered, but you have yet to tell me your name.”

“My name is Catherine Nettleton, as if you did not already know. But you may refer to me as Countess or Lady Catherine,” I snapped.

He chuckled. “Very well, Lady Catherine. Would you care for some tea?”

He’s quite enjoying this game of cat and mouse.

“No, thank you. What I would care for is to be shown to my cabin.”

His gaze casually roamed over me, settling upon the bodice of my gown.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.

“Why, my dear Countess, you’re standing in it.”

“How kind of you to forfeit your quarters for me, Captain,” I said, a trickle of unease skittering along my spine.

“Forfeit, Nay, Countess.” His gaze held a hint of something I did not care for. “Share. I shall share my quarters with you.”

“Share!” I exclaimed, horrified, and my eyes flew to the one oversized bed.

“As I have said, for your own safety, you should never venture far from my side. Tea, Milady?”

I remained fixed in place, not quite knowing what to do, but wishing I could slap that cocky smirk from his handsome face. I gave him my most authoritative glare, which usually sent household staff into silence, but only produced the rumble of a deep chuckle from the pirate. He did not spare me another glance while he poured the tea and placed a scone upon a delicate china plate.

How odd, I thought as I watched him. He seems so out of place. An eloquent gentleman pouring tea into fine china, not in the elegant drawing room of a fine home or grand salon in London, but here on this ship accompanied by a band of dirty pirates.

“Won’t you join me, Milady?” he asked with a grin.

My eyes lingered upon his face. Perfect white teeth shown as his grin broadened into a crooked smile, which only deepened his dimples and gave him a hint of boyish charm.

A slight rap upon the door drew me from my trance.

“Enter,” the pirate announced.

The door opened a crack and the thin face of Mister Smith appeared.

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Captain, but might I ‘ave a word with ye?” His accented voice much the same as my maid’s.

“If you would kindly excuse me, Milady,” the Captain said and, rising from his chair, he turned away and walked toward the door.

The men had a brief conversation in hushed whispers and although I strained to hear them, I could only grasp onto a few words, none of which made any sense to me.

“Thank you, Mister Smith. I shall join you on deck momentarily,” Captain Drake said, then closed the door and facing me he said, “I must beg your forgiveness, Milady, but if you would kindly excuse me, a matter has arisen which requires my immediate attention.”

“Certainly, Captain, but before you go, might I make a request?”

“Milady?”

“I would like to have my maid sent to me, and I truly wish to freshen up a bit. Is there any way I might have a bath?”

“As you wish, Countess,” he replied. “Now, if you would kindly excuse me.”

He was only gone a moment when Mary appeared at the door.

“Me Lady,” she sobbed as she rushed into the room. “I was worried for yer safety. Be ye all right?”

“What did they do to you, Mary? I have been beside myself with worry for you?”

“Not to worry. I over’eard the pirates sayin’ it be the Captain’s orders we was not to be touched.”

“Thank heaven.”

Despite my maid’s obvious anxiety, just having her with me bolstered my resolve.

“Come now, Mary. Compose yourself. Do not fret. I am fine and all will be well. Here, come and sit with me. We’ll have a cup of tea.”

“Oh, Miss. How can ye be so calm and thinkin’ of tea? How is it ye not be afraid? Ye be a brave sort, ye be.”

“Who said I am not afraid? I simply refuse to show it.” I smiled. “Please, come and sit with me, and we shall plan a strategy to get us through this.”

Mary made her way to the table.

“Blimey,” she said, “ye must be the bloody guest of honor.”

“Whatever makes you say that?”

“The Captain, Miss. Why, he dug out his fine china for ye, he did.”

“Mary, it’s probably plunder, but you’re correct, he perplexes me as well. He seems so out of place. His manner portrays that of a fine gentleman, one born to privilege, yet here he is among this band of miscreants, professing to be a pirate.”

“Aye, Miss. He sure ‘as an aristocratic air about him and if I may be so bold as to say, he be quite a handsome bloke, wot would be sure to turn any lady’s head.”

“That he is, Mary, but we must keep our wits about us.”

Our conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. Mary looked at me with wide eyes.

“Do not show them your fear, Mary.”

“Wot shall we do?”

“Answer the door just as you would if we were in our home upon the island,” I whispered.

“Aye, Miss.” She stood and with shaking hands straightened her skirts and made her way to the door. Mister Smith entered, followed by two more men, all of them carrying large, steaming buckets.

“Beggin’ yer pardon for the intrusion, yer Ladyship, but the Captain said ye be wantin’ to have a bath.”

“Yes, Mister Smith, that is true,” I answered. After gazing around the room, I asked, “But is there a tub?”

He smiled. “Our Captain, he fancies a bath hisself now ‘n again and has a tub here in his quarters,” he replied and setting down the buckets of steaming water, he crossed the room to the corner of the cabin where he drew open a thick velvet drape.

My jaw dropped in surprise to see a lovely brass tub set before a floor-to-ceiling mirror. A washstand with a basin stood beside it with thick drying cloths filling its shelves, all in what was a well-appointed bathing chamber, hidden behind the velvet curtain.

The pirates moved quickly to fill the tub and silently made their way from the room.

“Enjoy yer bath yer Ladyship,” Mister Smith said, and after casting a quick glance and a wink toward Mary, closed the door silently behind him.

“Why, Mary, I think you have captured Mister Smith’s attention.”

“I assure ye, Miss, I have done naught to encourage the likes of him.”

“Regardless, he seems to have taken a fancy to you nonetheless.”

Mary’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink and she cast her gaze toward the floor.

“Do not discount your charms, Mary. In our current situation I fear we may have to use whatever female wiles we possess. Perhaps your wiry Mister Smith will prove to be a valuable ally. Now, if you would kindly assist me, I would like to have my bath while the water is still warm.”

Steam rose off the water as I eased myself into the tub. Sitting in the bath was relaxing and, closing my eyes, I rested my head against the back of the rim. It was a luxury I never expected to enjoy while aboard a ship, and I sat there until the kiss of warmth was gone from the water. Finally resigning to the idea of having to get out of the tub, I called for my maid.

“Mary, would you please bring the drying cloth?”

“Aye, Miss. I be right there.” She scurried to the side of the tub with an oversized bath towel.

Mary stood before the tub with the large drying cloth spread open. Facing Mary, I reached up to place one hand in hers to steady my balance before stepping from the tub.

“Thank you, Mister Smith. That will be all.” My head snapped up at the sound of the dark and dangerous voice, and lifting my gaze over Mary’s shoulder, I gasped, and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of Captain Drake standing in the doorway. His crystal green eyes turned dark when he looked at me and despite the fact that the drying cloth was spread before me, heat burned in me from head to toe as his hooded gaze assaulted me.

“I beg your pardon, Milady,” he uttered in a hoarse whisper, “I did not realize you were ...” Following the line of his gaze, I realized he was not looking at my face, but beyond me, over my shoulder. He swallowed hard, and seemed frozen in place, making no move to leave the cabin. The room grew silent but for the sound of my thundering heart and that of his rapid breathing. I turned slowly, anxious to discover what sight had so captured his attention. The loud slamming of the door followed by his footsteps rapidly retreating from the cabin resounded in the room as I stood staring at the sight of my naked body reflected in the full-length mirror behind the tub.

I didn’t know it was possible to blush from head to toe, but the heat that accompanied the flush of embarrassment caused me to lower myself back into the cool water in the tub.

“Come now, Miss. Ye must get yerself out of that cold water and be getting yerself dressed.”

“Oh Mary, how will I ever be able to face him again after he has seen my scrawny body?” Just the thought of him having seen me naked brought the sting of heat back to my cheeks.

“Don’t ye be thinkin’ on it now, Miss. Ye ain’t scrawny so don’t ye lets me hear ye sayin’ that.”

“But father always said I was and he feared he would never make a decent match for me because I was too thin.”

“Ye give that no never mind. Ye be a fine an beautiful woman. Ye be a Countess. Need I remind ye of yer station. And that cad o’ a Captain dare not be sayin’ a word on it either,” she replied, helping me step out of the tub to dry off.

“Now, me Lady, we best be gettin’ ye dressed.”

“I truly wish I had a change of clothes,” I said in an attempt to draw my mind away from the look on the Captain’s face, which was burned into my memory. Just the thought of it embarrassed me so much it made me wish I could crawl into the nearest hole and die.

“But ye do, Miss. Do ye not be knowin’ the Captain had our trunks brought along?”

“He did? I had no idea. Where are they?”

“I believe he had ’em put in the hold.”

“I wonder if your Mister Smith would be willing to fetch them for me. Perhaps he would, if you were to ask him.”

“Aye, Miss. Let us get ye dressed and presentable and I shall wander out on deck to search for Tobias ... er ... I mean, Mister Smith.” Color flushed the maid’s cheeks.

“Thank you, Mary,” I said, suppressing a grin.

After Tobias Smith had the trunks delivered to the cabin, I selected a fresh gown. The deep blue one was one of my favorites, and Mary said this gown accented the best features of my figure and gave a sparkle to my deep blue eyes. Fidgeting in my seat at the dressing table, I watched in the mirror as Mary put my hair up and threaded matching blue ribbon through the curls.

“You seem a bit vexed, Miss,” Mary said causally, never taking her hands or eyes from my hair.

“Whatever are you talking about?” Our eyes met in the mirror.

“I don’t be meanin’ to overstep me place, Miss, but ye be a fidgetin’ in this chair like ye did when ye was a mere slip of a girl.”

“I’m sorry, Mary. It’s just that I-I don’t know if I will be able to bring myself to face him.”

“A course ye can. Hold yer head up high and ...”

A sharp rapping on the door interrupted her. She took a step to answer it, but I grabbed her arm.

“No, Mary. Please do not open that door.”

“But, Miss.”

An impatient knock sounded again, and Mary took another step closer.

“Mary, please,” I begged, “I’m not ready.”

“Aye, ye be ready, Miss.” Turning, she walked the few steps to the door and opened it. Mister Smith hurried in carrying a large tray, which appeared to weigh more than he did. He placed it down on the table, and I stood to face him.

“Thank you, Mister Smith.”

“The Captain will be here directly to dine,” he muttered as he scampered toward the door.

“Mister Smith,” I said, raising my voice more than I’d intended.

He turned, and, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, replied, “Aye, yer Ladyship?”

His glance danced between me and Mary. My mouth got dry at the thought that he might know the Captain had walked in on my bath, and I could not bring myself to look him in the eye. Gathering my courage, I lifted my chin a notch and mustered what I hoped was a stern glare.

“Please notify Captain Drake that I do not wish to dine with him. I shall take my evening meal here with Mary, and I ask that he kindly take his with the crew.”

“Aye, yer Ladyship. I be sure to relay yer message to the Captain.” And again, he chanced a glance toward Mary, then added, “But he won’t be happy.”

“His happiness is of no concern to me. Thank you, Mister Smith, that will be all.”

“Aye, yer Ladyship,” he said, and as he backed out of the cabin his gaze shifted again to the maid.

As soon as the door closed behind him, I turned to my maid.

“Mary, what is going on between you and Smith?”

“I don’t be knowin’ what ye be talkin’ about. There be nothin’ goin’ on, Miss.”

“Mary, do not lie to me. Were you planning to take your evening meal with Mister Smith?”

“Aye, Miss,” she replied, wringing her hands as she cast her eyes toward the floor.

“Very well, Mary. I do not wish to spoil your plans. You go ahead. It’s just that I do not wish to dine with ... with
him
.”

“Thank ye, Miss.” Mary bobbed a quick courtesy and scurried toward the door.

“Mary!”

“Aye, Miss?” The timid maid turned back to face me.

“Enjoy your dinner.” I smiled.

“Thank ye, Miss,” she said and rushed out the cabin as if she feared I might change my mind.

The delicious aroma of food floated across the room like an enticing, unseen hand drawing me toward it and causing my stomach to rumble. I could not recall the last time I had eaten and I made my way to the table, nearly floating on the delicious smells.

The tray was laden with plates, each containing something different. There were platters filled with exotic fruits and nuts, some with roasted potatoes, others had vegetables, breads, roasted meats, and delicate cakes. A feast for the eyes as well as the stomach, and one certainly fit for a king. My mouth watered as I took a plate and began to fill it with delectable morsels. Taking a seat at the vast table and picking up a fork, I stabbed a slice of rare beef.

The fork was nearly halfway to my mouth when the door to the cabin flew open with such force it slammed into the wall. I jumped from my seat, dropping the fork in the process.

He stood there in the doorway, his eyes dark and dangerous and his hands balled into fists at his sides. His breath came in quick rasps and he closed his eyes for a moment, clearly fighting to rein in his anger. When his eyes finally opened they were still dark, but his expression seemed to have softened somewhat.

“Captain,” I said in a meek voice, “is something amiss?”

“Aye, Milady. At the end of a very long day, I wish for the solitude of my cabin and the comfort of a warm meal.”

He took a few steps into the cabin and closing the door behind him made his way to the table. Picking up a plate, he began to make a few selections from the tray. I stood there watching him, and the slow burn of anger spread through me.
How dare he ignore my wishes!

When he had filled his plate to his satisfaction, he took the seat across from mine at the table. Standing there with my arms crossed, I glared at him.

“Would you care for some wine, Milady?” he asked, pouring the dark red liquid into the silver goblets.

“No, I would not care for any wine. What I would like is to be left alone to enjoy my evening meal in solitude.”

“Is this not my cabin?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, his gaze surveying the room.

“Yes.”

“I thought as much. My cabin is where I customarily take my meals.”

“Did Mister Smith not deliver my message?”

“Aye, I received your message.”

“Yet you chose to ignore my wishes?”

“Need I remind you, Countess, despite the fact that you are being treated with respect and dignity, you are, in fact, my prisoner?”

Temper bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me and before I realized it, the silver goblet was in my hand. Tossing its content in his face, I flung the empty goblet aside and strode toward the door.

“Enjoy your meal, Captain,” I said, storming from the room.