Once Upon a Pirate Anthology

by Merry Farmer

  But he couldn’t give her an answer. Not when he didn’t know it himself.

  “Didn’t want to give you the satisfaction,” was what he finally said gruffly before, in spite of himself, reaching out and pulling her in, close to his chest.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice muffled against his skin through his open shirt.

  “Warming you.”

  “I wouldn’t need warming had you not cut off all of my clothes!”

  “Are you seriously berating me for that as well?” he demanded. “Those skirts were going to drown you.”

  “I know,” she said her voice small, and suddenly she took in a deep breath, one that he felt more than he heard or saw. She shuddered as she released it. “I thought I was going to die.”

  Her words were so quiet that he almost didn’t hear them.

  “It’s not the best feeling in the world, is it?”

  “Have you nearly drowned before?”

  “Never almost drowned,” he responded. “I’m too good of a swimmer for that. But there have been the odd gunshot or sword that nearly found its mark. Now, are you going to thank me or not?”

  Penny couldn't help the shiver that ran through her at his words, though she didn't think she could rattle any more fiercely.

  Though… it seemed like she was beginning to thaw. The man radiated heat the likes of which she had never seen before. Without even thinking of what she was doing, Penny pressed herself closer against him, as though in doing so she could capture every last ounce of his heat.

  As to whether she was going to thank him? Well, it was his fault that she was in this mess, that she stood here dripping all over his cabin floor. And yet….

  She stood on the tips of her toes so that she was standing as even with him as possible.

  “Thank you," she said, her voice just above a whisper, and, using his shirt to pull herself up the rest of the way, she kissed him on the lips.

  Chapter 7

  Ramsay had a feeling that her kiss was supposed to be a chaste one. One that spoke the thank you that she couldn’t bring herself to say.

  But he was not a man who accepted a chaste kiss. For a quick kiss such as that was one that spoke of affection, of emotion that he didn’t want to have any part in.

  He had told her that he would only touch her when she asked for it. He would take this as his invitation.

  The moment she began to pull away and leave only the memory of her lips upon his, he hauled her to him, one arm tightening around her so that the soft length of her body was pressed up against him.

  He shifted his belt to hang his cutlass down the side so that anything pressed against her was nothing but him — and pressed it was.

  He didn’t know what it was about this lass, but she tempted him in a way that he hadn’t been tempted in quite some time.

  Perhaps it was the fact that she was brazen enough to stow away on a pirate ship and to try to escape. Or perhaps it was that she continued to defy him, which no one else had attempted in quite some time.

  Whatever it was, now that he had a taste of her, he had no desire to savor her, but rather to eat her all up.

  He wasn’t gentle with her and took no pity as he crushed his mouth against hers. He forced her lips open, expecting rejection, but instead, her arm tightened around his neck and her tongue licked his experimentally but eagerly.

  Penny’s fervor lit a fire within him, and he pushed her back toward the bed, lifting her on it so that he had better access to all he yearned to explore. He was a man who thirsted for treasure, but for this, he needed no map.

  “Ramsay!” she whimpered breathlessly when he left her lips to kiss his way down her neck. He bit into her soft skin, leaving his mark, and she bucked against him, welcoming his harsh touch.

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and he slid his hands into the destroyed dress that still clung to her arms.

  “I don’t… I’m not… oh, that feels good,” she murmured. It seemed the woman did not know when or how to stop talking, but as long as her words were those of encouragement, he wouldn’t put a halt to them.

  “If that feels so good, what do you think of this?” he said gruffly as he freed her breasts from her bodice, lifting the round globes, so soft and pink in his rough hands.

  Her eyes widened and her response was to take his lips with hers again. Ramsay assumed that she was inexperienced, but she was more than making up for it with her enthusiasm.

  He had just pushed aside the rags at the bottom of her torn gown when there was a knock at the door.

  “Captain? The men are back,” came Bastian’s voice. “There is clothing for the woman. I heard there was an… incident.”

  Ramsay pushed away from Penny with an oath. He was tempted to open the door and tell Bastian to leave them be, that he was not to be disturbed for some time.

  But then the men would know. It was bad enough they were already breaking the article which prohibited women on the ship, but at this point, they had all agreed it was in their best interests. If they knew he was finding pleasure with her, it would be him alone breaking the ship’s rule, and he would be as guilty as any.

  “Cover yourself,” he ordered, pointing a finger at her, and her face clouded. She looked as though she was going to retort, but when he strode over to the door, tucking his clothing properly around him, she dove behind the bed’s curtain. There was no fixing what she was currently wearing.

  “Was all well on shore?” he asked Bastian as he opened the door enough to allow the man entrance.

  “Nothing to report, Captain,” Bastian said. “We’ve got all we needed. I’ve brought clothing for the woman, and the men just have to finish loading everything. I heard the woman went overboard?”

  “I was attempting to escape,” came the voice from beyond the bed curtain. “It did not go as planned.”

  Bastian looked as though he was about to laugh, but Ramsay’s warning glare silenced him.

  “Well, ah, glad to hear all is well now.”

  “I should hardly think that all could be considered well,” Penelope continued, and Ramsay closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to hold onto his patience.

  “I’ll be up on the main deck shortly,” Ramsay said to Bastian, deciding that ignoring the woman was, for the moment, his best tactic. “We should ready to sail the moment the last bit of supplies are onboard.”

  “Agreed,” Bastian said, nodding his shaved head. “And ah, Captain?”

  “Yes?”

  “Ye might want to handle your… situation.” He waved in the general vicinity of Ramsay’s lower half.

  Ramsay narrowed his eyes with a dark look at his quartermaster, but Bastian knew Ramsay better than most and didn’t fear him quite as much as Ramsay would have hoped.

  Bastian smirked at Ramsay now. “Just warning you. Wouldn’t want the crew to get any ideas.”

  And with a laugh he was out the door, Ramsay’s scowl following him out.

  “Is he gone?”

  Ramsay turned toward the bed, where Penelope’s head was poking out of the curtain, watching him.

  “He brought you new gowns,” Ramsay said, waving his hand toward the table.

  “What did he mean by your situation?” she asked now, and Ramsay turned from her so that he wasn’t able to see her body with so much skin exposed. That certainly wouldn’t help his situation, as Bastian so put it.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said brusquely, and mercifully she didn’t pursue the topic.

  She had something else on her mind.

  “I would like to come up on deck.”

  “No.”

  “Just for a time?” she pleaded. “I need the sun, Ramsay. The fresh air.”

  “I said no.”

  “If you do not allow me to come up, then I shall find another way.”

  Somehow, he didn’t doubt that she would do all she could to try, but this time, he was determined that she wouldn’t meet her goal.

  “Next time yo
u go overboard,” he said, finally turning around to meet her gaze. “I will not be jumping in to rescue you.”

  And with that, he truly was out the door.

  “Your clothes are wet!” Her voice called after him, but he figured he would dry them in the sun. Anything would be better than undressing in the same room as her. That would be as torturous as she claimed her imprisonment to be.

  When he stood against the rail near the helm and looked out over the ocean below, his niggling thought that Penelope had a point remained. He could hardly imagine what it would be like not to have access to the sea breeze nor the warm air above. His cabin was rather sumptuous, but he certainly wouldn’t want to be confined in there for days on end.

  Though he could think of worse prison cells. He was sure there was one awaiting him in several countries.

  Not that he would ever find himself in one. He vowed that he would die first.

  It took but a half day for an attempt to be made to take him there.

  “Ship in the distance!” The voice came from up in the crow’s nest, where one of the men was currently on lookout. Acting on instinct, Ramsay was scaling up the rigging and beside Hector in seconds. Hector handed him the spyglass, and Ramsay fitted it into his eye.

  “We’re being chased,” Hector said. “The ship is behind us, more to the port side.”

  Ramsay followed his finger, quickly finding the ship he told him of.

  He made out a frigate that was quite similar to his own. But it would be no merchant ship that was after him, and he couldn’t make out the flag of any particular nation. No, the flag was black.

  “Damn it,” he said, sliding the spyglass closed. “It’s another pirate ship. Which one, I do not know, though they could be working with the Portuguese. Keep an eye on it,” he said, before climbing down the rigging as quickly as he had ascended.

  “Bastian!” he hollered, and his quartermaster was there in seconds. They quickly called the men together and explained the situation.

  “We put it to a vote,” Bastian said, as he walked around the circle the men had formed around them. “We run — or we fight. What’ll it be?”

  The answer was not a surprise.

  They would fight.

  “Ready the gunners!”

  What in the…

  Penelope didn’t know what to think of the multitude of boots clamoring overhead. Something was happening up above. Then there was a series of clanks and thuds, and then ever-so-slowly, the ship began to turn. Penelope ran to the windows, looking out on the sea beyond. Before the ship completely turned around, she spotted something in the distance. At first, it wasn’t much more than a speck, but it was growing.

  It was another ship, and it was coming for them.

  Her hands began to sweat slightly, and she wiped them on the new dark-blue cotton gown she had donned. It was a bit big on her, and she had cinched the waist with a belt she’d found in the Captain’s things. That too hung down her side as it was far too wide for her, but it would have to do.

  Penelope wasn’t stupid, and she had spent some time on a ship before. The fact that they were turning toward the ship behind them could mean only one thing — Ramsay and his crew were preparing to attack.

  She swallowed hard, nauseous as a ball of nerves began to grow in her stomach. Just as she began to search for a weapon, the door to the room swung open with a bang.

  “Ramsay!” she exclaimed. “What is going on?”

  “We are readying for a fight,” he said, then fixed a hard stare on her. “Whatever you do — stay in here. Do you understand? This is about your safety now. It’s another pirate ship we’re meeting with, so it will do you no good to try to escape. They’ll treat you far worse than we ever would.”

  Penelope tried to ascertain whether or not he was telling the truth as to the identity of the ship, but with a man like him, it was difficult to know for certain. He was a practiced liar if there ever was one.

  If it truly was a pirate ship, however… there was no doubt his words were true.

  “I need a weapon,” she said, finally deciding that she would have to trust him — for now, at least.

  “Very well,” he said, untying his cutlass and handing it to her. “Be careful. Don’t cut your own hand off.”

  She looked at him indignantly. “I know how to use a sword.”

  He eyed her with disbelief. “You do?”

  “I do, actually. You needn’t be shocked. And I would prefer to have a pistol as well.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “But—”

  “You’re liable to shoot yourself or one of the crew as much as you are an enemy. There will be no pistols.”

  Penelope sighed, letting it go, for she could tell that he would enter no argument about this.

  “Very well,” she said, though she rolled her eyes so that he would know her displeasure. “What’s that?”

  “What?”

  “It sounds like… music. Drumming, perhaps.”

  “It’s our crew,” he said with obvious pride. “We are readying for battle.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Penny said, feeling like an idiot.

  “We play to intimidate them. To encourage them to surrender. We don’t want a fight.”

  “But I thought pirates—”

  “We want to plunder. We want the treasure. We don’t want to lose any more of our crew than we have to.”

  “I see,” she murmured, wondering anew at all she had been told of pirates and all that she was learning was the reality.

  “Now, stay here,” he repeated, and then strode to the door as he donned an eyepatch. He placed his hand on the doorknob, though he stood there for a moment without turning it.

  “What are you—”

  But then he turned, crossed the room, and hauled her toward him. He kissed her soundly on the lips before releasing her just as abruptly and then leaving the cabin without another word.

  Penelope placed her hands on her mouth and stared after him.

  There was a battle coming, and she should want him to perish.

  But she could hardly wait for him to return.

  Chapter 8

  The drumming stopped, but pounding began anew.

  It was the guns, now.

  It seemed The Raven’s Wing fired first, as the sound reverberated throughout the ship, clear through to where Penny sat in one of the hard-backed wooden chairs. She had moved the chair to the middle of the room, facing the door. She had Ramsay’s cutlass in hand as she waited for whoever might enter with her pulse beating so fast that her heart pounded against the wall of her chest.

  An answering boom came from across the water, and Penelope closed her eyes tightly and inhaled as she waited for the cannonball to hit the ship. Nothing. She breathed out.

  The guns continued to call to one another, boom for boom, but the ships must have still been too far away to make any contact, for she heard nothing else. Until finally, the resounding cries of men filled the air. The Raven’s Wing must have found its mark.

  Which meant that they were likely now also within range of the enemy ship. Penelope gripped the cutlass tighter, despite the fact that her slick palms were making it difficult to hold.

  Boom. Suddenly Penny’s chair flew backward, sending her into an ungraceful roll across the floor, her head just narrowly missing the table behind her. Apparently, the enemy ship had made contact, though, as she made her way to her feet, it seemed that no damage had been done to this room, at least.

  Then the entire ship rocked as it must have come next to the other before it stilled once more, and Penny heard the cries of men above her. Whether The Raven’s Wing crew was boarding the other ship, or the enemy crew was coming on board, Penny had no idea, as she was unable to make sense of the shouts, footsteps, pistols firing, and blades clanking above her. She cringed when she heard screams of agony, and she assumed the odd thud she heard from above her was that of a body hitting the deck.

  When she had sai
led with her uncle, he had been wary of pirates, and preferred routes that took them up to Canada and across to England, rather than circling the waters of the Caribbean which were much more lucrative but rife with pirates. She remembered the one time they had seen a pirate ship in the distance. Never before had she seen such fear on the faces of men, but they had been lucky enough to outrun them.

  Pirates fighting one another? It was not something she would ever have had any interest in being a part of. And yet, here she was, sitting in a pirate captain’s cabin, waiting to see if she would remain with her original captors or be taken on a ship anew.

  She wasn’t sure which she would prefer. The unknown was always the greatest fear, but what scared her most? The fact that she nearly didn’t think of Ramsay as the enemy anymore.

  She was falling for the worst sort of man one could ever imagine.

  Why, she didn’t know. He was rude, he was arrogant, he had no qualms regarding taking the life of another.

  She had never been so attracted to a man before. He was the definition of masculinity, a man who caused her to tremble from her head to the tips of her toes with just one look.

  She was disgusted with herself.

  She should wish that he would perish so that she wouldn’t have to worry about succumbing to the base urges that seemed to compel her whenever he was around.

  But the thought of him dying, especially after he had jumped into the ocean to save her, filled her with sorrow.

  It was a conundrum.

  But one she only had to worry about if they both survived this battle.

  Just then the door burst open, and Penny surged to her feet, cutlass outstretched in front of her.

  Her heart beat loudly in her ears as the figure in front of her was not one she recognized.

  A hat was pulled low over the pirate’s eyes, while blood covered the front of his white linen shirt. Penny wondered whose blood it was.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?”