Owned by Pirates Page 9

  Davy waved the fish in front of her face until she shrieked, then tossed it back into the sea. The two of them got back to work where Teeth was sorting piles of shells.

  It was admirable how intensely Teeth was taking his task. I strolled by to see he had found dozens of small shells in the appropriate size, and had them all sorted by styles and colors.

  "Instead of traders, we’ll soon be jewelry artists," I joked.

  Teeth looked up at me in delight. "I've always thought about becoming a silversmith," he said. "My Uncle Rupert crafts things from silver. It's an interesting trade."

  “I bet it is,” I said. “Perhaps we can look into that someday.”

  O’Doule came back to the beach with a giant basket of fruit, and I rushed over to take it from him. He tried to protest, but I was much larger, and there was no shame in a man knowing his limits.

  "You just hauled it all the way down the path, let me help," I said, taking the basket down to the rowboat. I joined him back on the beach, as we looked to the sunset, and the slight wispy clouds to the north.

  "Should be fine sailing for several days, I think,” he said.

  "Good. We aren't in a hurry, but it's always best to get ahead of things. Impressing our new clients by having their shipments a bit early is likely a good thing."

  "Aye, 'tis true," O'Doule agreed. Then he regarded me thoughtfully. "You know, Captain, having a fairly regular schedule from Crossly Port to Parrinport might help us in a few ways."

  "How’s that?"

  "It would create a reasonably reliable schedule for transporting the raw goods, spices, and whatnot," he said. “But running Miss Flora to her ladies’ shop every few weeks is a good, respectable task."

  I nodded, stroking my slight scruff of beard thoughtfully. "You're right. I've noticed that a few of the traders would like to be apprised of the timelines. Running a sweet lass to the beach for supplies, and to the shops to sell her wares… That does sound wholesome indeed."

  "Since we’re no longer runnin’ up the black flag, perhaps we can develop our new reputation around our dependability?" O'Doule suggested.

  I couldn't help laughing. "Aye, that sounds fearsome indeed."

  He shot me a flat stare with his lips pressed together that suggested I was behaving like a tiresome child.

  "Your line of thinking is absolutely correct, but I'm still going to joke about it," I chuckled.

  "Fair enough," he shrugged. "The boys don't much care between pirating or straight work, as long as they have food and a home, but you know they prefer keeping safe." He looked at me with a kind smile. "Twas good of you to take the young lads on board."

  I shrugged, watching Teeth and Davy on their knees in the sand. They were crawling around, obeying Flora’s every command as they gathered what she needed.

  "I don't know how a man's to get any experience if nobody gives him a first chance," I said. "They’re good boys. Certainly rough around the edges, but over the past few years they've proven themselves."

  "That they have," O’Doule agreed. "And if you'll forgive me saying it, Captain, I'd rather not have them risking jail or worse with the thieving anymore."

  "Aye. That's the main reason I knew it was time to shift gears," I nodded. "Not to mention that you and McGee are getting up in years," I winked.

  "Foul bugger," he muttered under his breath. But the spark in his eye told me that my friend and crewmate would always forgive my sass.

  ~ Chapter 13 ~ Flora ~

  * On the way to Tegarren Point *

  It was fascinating that I was nearly always aware of the time of day, but couldn't really keep track of how many days had passed. The angle of the sun told me whether I should hurry up and finish the section of sewing I was working on so that I could go help with supper. The tiny bit of daylight creeping through the Captain's bedroom window told me that it was time to jump up, dress, and head down to the galley to start breakfast.

  I was incredibly proud that I had made myself a new dress that I could pull on and off myself, with no constricting buttons down the back. It was not fashionable, in a silvery gray like the soft light of dawn. It was not particularly flattering. It was simply a dress for working comfortably and living on this ship.

  Never in my life would I have believed that I would jump up in the morning, eager to be the first person working. There was something so calming about the ritual of scrubbing the table, stoking the fire, putting the kettle on, and starting the morning before the men awoke.

  Back at home, nothing I ever did was good enough. The food I cooked was too bland, dinner was too slow, and somehow I never laid anything out on the plate properly. My sewing work was not fast enough, and my father would point out errors that did not exist.

  Here on the Fortune, the men complimented me on my cooking every single day. Even when Teeth didn't like it, he appreciated trying something new.

  Larry had handed all of the sail work and sewing over to me. I created patterns for shirts for the men, using an old one for a template, and my memory of my mother's projects. Luckily, Davy and Teeth were approximately the same size, though Teeth was shorter, as were O'Doule and McGee. Larry and the Captain were a similar width, though Larry was even taller. So I was able to make do with three main patterns, saving a lot of time. I would probably be able to present them all with their new shirts in about a week.

  McGee said that he would be starting supper this evening, since he was finished with his barrel repairs early. That gave me extra time to finish the cuff of a shirt sleeve.

  It was so peaceful working away steadily, occasionally looking out the tiny window to see the rolling sea and the expansive sky. The world seemed so much bigger out here. It was a beautiful feeling.

  A quick, sharp yell cut through the peaceful lapping of the waves against the hull.

  Nearly dropping my buttons, I raced along with the other men to find McGee holding his hand, which was covered in blood.

  Instantly O’Doule went to work, sitting him down and grabbing clean rags to wrap his finger tightly, raising it up over his head and squeezing tight.

  "Clear out, boys, I've got this,” O'Doule ordered. Everyone left immediately, a few of them looking a bit pale.

  But I stayed. "My mother taught me some things," I said quickly. "I could help if you like."

  "Aye, grab me a mug, and pour in two splashes from the clear bottle on the bottom shelf."

  As I pulled the cork and poured, I caught a whiff of something that was even sharper than the rum. Handing it to O’Doule, he lowered McGee's hand, wiping off the blood then splashing some of the liquid along the cut.

  It hurt my heart to see McGee’s teeth grinding together as he stifled a yell. Whatever it was, it must have stung something fierce. O’Doule handed him the mug and he drank down the rest.

  "Bloody northerners and their potato swill," McGee growled.

  "Prevents infection," O'Doule said sternly. I brought the lamp over so that he could examine the wound more closely. "Bugger it. Lad, you really sliced yourself deep."

  McGee hung his head. “The blasted knife slipped and somehow I caught it with both hands."

  O'Doule cocked his head, thinking. "We might have to wrap this tight, and get you to the doc in Tegarren Point for some stitches."

  I leaned closer, examining the straight line of the cut. "I can do it," I offered. They both looked at me in shock.

  "I had to stitch a cut on my mother’s back once, from where… It doesn't matter. It's the same as sewing, you simply run the needle through the flame of the lamp first to make sure it's clean."

  McGee nodded. "Better now than tomorrow, and better you than a stranger, I suppose."

  I ran to fetch a needle and thread, then came back to run the needle through the flame. O'Doule poured McGee a measure of rum, and he drank it in one swig.

  I wiped down his hand as well as I could, stretching it out across the table with cloths underneath. "The good news is, this should only take a few minutes," I said.
“The bad news is, it might sting like the devil, and it might give you the willies something fierce."

  "Do you need me to stay to hold his hand down, lass?" O'Doule asked.

  I looked McGee in the eye. "Will you keep still?" He nodded very seriously.

  "Good," said O'Doule. "Then I'll tell the Captain we don't need to rush as much to Tegarren Point. I can hear him planning to hoist the extra sails, yet it’s a bad time of the evening for it.”

  He left quickly, and I saw McGee tense his arm, while looking away. “Go ahead, Miss. I might mutter some rather blue words, but I won’t move.”

  I could barely stomach the next part, but I had to. Like when I was stitching up my mother, I had to put aside my squeamish feelings, and simply attend to the task at hand. Taking a deep breath in, and blowing it out slowly, I gripped McGee's skin, and began to sew.

  It was obvious that McGee’s teeth were grinding together, and he could barely stand the sting. "Look up to the ceiling, never at what I'm doing," I said quickly. "What is your mother's name?"

  His head twitched and he seemed confused, but I just kept stitching steadily, as quickly as I could. "Patricia," he said, his voice slightly raspy.

  "Tell me all about the best meal that she ever made for the holidays when you were young."

  He didn't question my diversion tactic, launching into extravagant detail about her turkey dinner with stuffing, pumpkin pie, and molasses glazed rosemary carrots. By the time he was finished, so was I. Tearing the cleanest rag into strips, I wrapped his finger and hand as snuggly as I could.

  "If the pressure is too tight in an hour, let me know and I’ll loosen it off a bit," I said.

  He nodded, his breathing more steady now that the painful part was over. I began scrubbing everything up while he took a moment to collect himself.

  “Now, my mother said that garlic and onion are good for fighting infections,” I said, “So I’ll cook with those for the next few days, and give you extra. I’ll be making dinner tonight, as you can’t get that wet or dirty.”

  “Yes, thank you, Miss,” McGee said. I couldn’t be sure if the usually outspoken man was being meek due to the pain of the stitches, or that he wasn’t used to being so near a woman for so long.

  He extended his other hand, and I returned the gesture automatically. He brought his lips to the back of my hand in a tiny kiss. “Thank you, m’lady. I greatly appreciate this.”

  Just then the Captain came around the corner, and McGee dropped my hand, looking ashen. “Cap’n, your fine lass can sew more than clothing.” He held up his bandaged hand.

  The Captain’s lips were tight, and he didn’t speak.

  “A dozen wee stitches, right through me skin, Cap’n. Just like a real doctor.”

  “Good job, lass,” the Captain said curtly. “Back to work with ye, McGee.”

  “Yessir.” He disappeared up onto the deck.

  I tidied up the supplies and scrubbed the table clean, while the Captain just stared at me. Finally I turned to look at him. “Is there a problem, sir?”

  He pulled out a barrel and sat, pulling me onto his lap. “No problem with you, lassie. It was... unsettling to see another man kiss you.”

  I laughed lightly. “Sir, I had just been piercing his skin with a needle. He was not in his right mind, and I think the tender gesture was purely gratitude.”

  “Aye. Still didn’t like it.” He appeared uncomfortable, still tense.

  My eyes darted around, making sure we were alone. Wrapping my hands around his neck, I brought our mouths close as I whispered, “You’re the only man I’ve really kissed.” Our lips met, and his arms pulled me in until I was pressed tightly against him.

  I couldn’t believe how I felt his kisses through my entire body. It felt like he was possessing me through his lips. Overtaking me gently. Completely.

  In my close-fitting, light dress, he could see my arousal immediately, as the peaks of my nipples stood out clearly. His palm slid along my back, then under my arm to circle my breast. My tiny gasp against his lips was pure excitement, and I could feel his kiss turn into a smile. His large hand cupped the weight of my soft skin as I melted against him. Bringing his thumb across the peak of my nipple, he made me sigh too loudly.

  Realizing that we could be caught at any moment, he retracted his hand and leaned back. He seemed amused by the way I pouted.

  “Not the time nor the place, lassie,” he said, bouncing me on his knee jovially. “Not appropriate to let the lads see what they cannot have.”

  Pressing my lips together in thought, I contemplated for a moment.

  “Ask your question, lass.”

  “Sir, I know that men have needs. Does, um... does the ship pull into certain ports occasionally so that the men can go...” I lowered my voice to below a breath, “Whoring?”

  His laugh was so loud and bright that it startled me. “Aye, lassie, 'tis true. The minds of men become those of squirrels if they don’t feel the touch of a woman every so often. Does this bother you?”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. I was just curious.” I didn’t tell him that fragments of stories had accidentally reached my ears since I’d been onboard. I also didn’t tell him how intriguing I thought the stories were.

  He suddenly looked a bit forlorn. “A proper lass like you really shouldn’t know about such things, nor hear the language of six salty sailors all day.”

  “Nonsense,” I said, standing up and putting away the rags to be scrubbed later. “I’ve learned more in my weeks on this ship than I have in the past five years in the village.” I winked. “And I don’t just mean the bawdy talk.”

  After supper, I felt like the men couldn’t talk freely with me there, so I took a lamp to the Captain’s bedroom and worked on my little shell collars. I knew that the men probably needed some lads only time.

  I couldn’t help that a few of the more boisterous bits of the conversation reached my ears. They were indeed planning to visit a port sometime soon that featured their favorite whorehouse. I’d heard a few whispers on deck, but once they were into the rum, things became louder.

  Although I tried to concentrate on my work, that had me in a bit of a tizzy. I felt so close to the Captain, but it was hard to tell how he felt about me.

  In the beginning, I’d assume that since he had purchased me, he’d use me to satisfy his carnal desires. Then I realized how gentle and kind he was to me. He had to know that now that I knew him, that’s what I wanted as well. Or was I so shy and reserved that I hadn’t been clear with my feelings toward him?

  It was times like these when I wished that I had a girlfriend to talk to about such matters.

  ~ Chapter 14 ~ The Captain ~

  * The Rum *

  It didn't take much persuasion before I was drinking an extra bit of rum and telling some of the tales I likely should have kept to myself.

  Like the time we outran the Navy's fastest new ship on its maiden voyage. Then we informed everyone at their first port of call before they reached it so they'd be a laughing stock. It was simply a tale too amusing not to tell for the hundredth time.

  When the laughter died down, McGee piped up. "Do you think I'll get an injured sailor discount in a few weeks down at Walton’s Hotel?" he inquired, holding up his bandaged hand.

  We all burst into uproarious laughter again. Walton’s was a very discreet hotel, where only those in the know would walk up to the third floor to the house of ill repute. A lounge full of lovely ladies of the evening waited there to entertain sailors for a fair price.

  The conversation grew loud and rowdy, with some of the men describing their favorite ladies in naughty detail. A great debate broke out, and sides were taken over which was more glorious, Kitty’s bosom or Emily’s arse.

  “’Tis a ripe peach,” Teeth grinned, his gold smile shining in the lamplight. “When you give it a little spank and a squeeze, it’s heaven on earth.”

  “’Tis fine indeed,” McGee agreed, “But Kitty’s bosom defies gravity
itself. Melons so delicious you’d best take a bite.”

  The boys had been so well behaved around Miss Flora that I had to allow their tongues to get loose once in a while, and joined them in laughing like fools.

  I noticed Larry giving me a bit of an odd look from the corner of his eye. "Ask your question, mate."

  "I know that you don't always join us down at Walton’s," he said carefully. "I just wondered whether you'd be coming along this time or not?"