Once Upon a Pirate Anthology

by Merry Farmer

  “We are getting married,” he responded just as her father stepped up in front of them and everyone gathered around.

  “Here? On this ship?”

  “Aye. On yer father’s ship, where he is captain. Ye ken a captain has the right to marry a couple aboard his ship.”

  Ruby gasped and clutched her heart, looking at her father, certain more tears would stream down her face. “You are going to marry us, Papa?”

  He nodded and puffed out his chest with pride and Ruby could not contain her surprise and elation. Flinging herself against her father, she hugged him fiercely, then did the same to Callum. “It is perfect. Absolutely wonderful. My dream.”

  Callum chuckled and took her hand. “I assumed as much. I want today to be the very best day of yer life, Ruby. We only get to do this once in a lifetime, and I wish it to be all ye ever wanted.”

  “Callum, you are all I ever want or need. But this… this is… ‘tis perfect. Thank you.” She kissed his cheek and they turned to her father, who began the ceremony, reading traditional vows and some she had never heard before, probably from the Scottish traditions. Looking at Callum, she said her vows and felt as if she were floating above herself on a cloud. Could she really be marrying this handsome earl by day, pirate by night, whose dark hair was slicked back into a perfect queue with skintight black breeches, a crisp white tunic, and a matching black surcoat, the Campbell plaid draped and pinned meticulously over his shoulder? He was a sight to behold and she felt herself blushing as she remembered the many nights they had stayed up late making love and exploring one another. He had taught her so many new ways to express herself and she looked forward to a lifetime of learning so much more.

  Her father declared them married and named her the new Lady of Inveraray Castle and Countess of Argyll. Before Callum kissed her, Charles walked up, carrying a folded length of the Campbell green and blue plaid, handing it to Callum.

  Turning toward Ruby, he smiled down at her and draped the plaid across her shoulders. The blue was the same color as her dress, the green slightly darker than his eyes. “Ye are now Ruby Campbell, a member of our fierce clan. Ye are a Scot now, lass!” Everyone cheered and hollered when he used a heart shaped pin with a crown atop to secure it, then bent her over without notice, kissing her until she was breathless.

  “Ye are my wife now, lass. Any regrets?”

  “Many. But none involving you,” she said with a giggle and kissed him again.

  “Every moment of yer life led ye to the moment when we met, Ruby. Regret nothing. I love ye.”

  “I love you, Callum Campbell.”

  Her mother and father hugged her while Charles approached and thumped Callum on the back. “Ye done well, Cousin. She is bonnie, for an English lass,” he said with a smirk.

  “Maybe if ye stop being an arse, ye will find yerself a bonnie lass to adore and stop looking at my wife, aye?”

  Charles rubbed his chin in thought and looked at Ruby once more. “Nay. I cannae make that promise.” He smacked Callum on the back once more and hugged Ruby with affection. He was a flirtatious man, but he was harmless and always made her laugh.

  Soon everyone departed the ship, but stayed close on the harbor, as if awaiting something. When Callum made no move to leave the ship, Ruby looked at him and raised a brow. “Well, what now? Are we not going to join our guests for a feast in the hall?”

  “We can aye, if ye wish. But I had other plans…”

  “Oh?” Ruby pursed her lips, wondering what else Callum could possibly have planned. Letting out a loud whistle, Callum turned her to look at the stairs leading down to the crew’s sleeping quarters, and all his men came running up, carrying jugs of ale and the same instruments they had played the day she danced with them.

  When they all formed a circle around her and Callum, she laughed and clapped her hands together with excitement. “What is all this?”

  “Wife, I took away yer joy on that night. Ye were right. I was jealous and angry because I kenned I loved ye and thought I couldnae have ye. But I should not have been an arse. Tonight, our ship sails away on a new adventure, and ye shall drink all the ale ye wish and dance until yer feet give out, and I shall dance with ye, if I may…” Bending at the waist, Callum put his hand out and she put hers in his, accepting his offer with a laugh as he spun her in a circle and his men began to play.

  “Where are we off to, Callum?” she shouted over the music, spinning in her dress with her husband by her side and a crew full of merry pirates, just as she had always wished, yet never dared hope for.

  “That is up to ye, lass. The choice, as always, is yers.”

  When the music stopped, Callum put his hands up to silence his men. “Raise the anchor and ready the sails, lads! I wish to sail the high seas with my wife, the Siren of the Sea!” he shouted and his men whooped, making Ruby laugh with approval at the pirate name he had given her. As the ship began to leave the harbor, Ruby ran over to the railing and leaned over, waving farewell to the Campbell clan who gathered around, shouting their well wishes and waving in return.

  “This is all a dream!” she shouted into the wind as her hair blew all around her.

  “Nay, love. This is yer life now, our life. And where ye go, I will always follow.” Tilting her head back, Callum kissed her with a fierce passion, the way she supposed a pirate should kiss his woman, and she sighed with pure happiness in her heart.

  Her life truly was a dream come true.

  About Mia Pride

  Mia is the author of historical romance with lots of heart and heat, residing in San Francisco. When Mia isn't writing books, she loves to drink coffee by the gallon, get lost in a good book, hike with her kids, and drink really big margaritas with her friends!

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  Runaway Duke

  by S. Cinders

  A Dirty Bird Chronicles Novella

  Prologue

  St. George’s Cathedral

  Juliana plucked at the fine lace trimming surrounding her bodice and wished for the hundredth time that this were her wedding and not of Lady Henrietta Warner. It wasn’t that she disliked Hetty, or even wished her ill will.

  The sad truth of it was that Juliana was quite desperately in love with the idea of falling in love. She and her younger sister Lillian had been given a front row seat when her brother Phillip had taken the plunge.

  Indeed, the sisters felt almost responsible for helping to nudge their brother into the blissful union he now resided in. It seemed that all of London was succumbing to the love bug as one after another of Phillip’s cronies had also found themselves in the Parson’s trap.

  So, was it any wonder why Juliana fantasized about the time when she could be the one staring up into the face of some handsome gentleman?

  “Stop pulling at your dress, Juliana, it’s unseemly.”

  Juliana immediately put her hand down and fought the urge to make a face at her younger sister. Lillian used to be such fun, but it seemed lately she had turned into a downright prude.

  “The lace itches,” Juliana complained to anyone that would listen.

  “Shhh,” her mother admonished. “Look, they are getting ready to leave the church. Do stand up straight Juliana. Why can’t you just hold still like your sister?”

  Juliana slouched her shoulders. It wasn’t that she meant to be difficult. It wasn’t that she didn’t adore Lillian. In truth, one could most likely surmise that she was bored. Whatever the reason, Juliana wasn’t paying any attention to when Lord Warner escorted his new bride toward the carriage.

  “Put a smile on your face dear,” her mother advised through gritted teeth.

  This was one thing that always amazed Juliana. How could her mother manage to chastise her and look like she was smiling all the while? It had to be a gift fr
om the gods.

  Lillian moved closer to where some of the other young ladies were standing, but Juliana hadn’t any desire to talk to anyone at the moment. She wanted out of her itchy dress and into an exciting life with handsome princes that would sweep one off their feet.

  It was at that precise moment when she was struck with something—hard.

  She distinctly remembered hearing a crunch and then feeling a thick warm liquid coming from her nose. Brushing the offending item from her face, Juliana watched in horror was blood dripped off her gloves.

  Her vision began to blur, spots erupted in the strangest of places and Juliana suddenly felt like the world was tipping. If it hadn’t of been for a pair of strong arms wrapping around her, she would have likely landed in a heap onto the street.

  The next thing she knew, Juliana was looking up into none other than the impossibly handsome American Duke. Oliver Stanford, eldest of the Stanford brothers, and the most sought after, had recently come into his inheritance.

  Of course, Juliana had made a small play for him, batting her eyes, and giving him encouraging smiles. But she could have sworn the man wasn’t interested. It really didn’t add up that he would now be holding her in his arms.

  This had to be some sort of dream. Because if the Duke would ever have deemed to touch her person it would be in kissing her hand or taking her into a waltz. Since they seemed to be in the street, they couldn’t be waltzing.

  “You know, I like it better when you aren’t scowling,” Juliana said thickly. Her voice hardly sounded like her own.

  “My child! How could such a wretched thing be happening?” her mother wailed.

  “Are we dancing?” Juliana asked.

  She wasn’t sure but for a moment there she wondered if his frown had morphed into a small smile. A reluctant one, perhaps, but she could have sworn it was indeed a smile. However, the frown was soon back as he peered down at her.

  “She will need something to staunch the blood. Let’s get her back into the church.”

  Blood.

  It came back to her in a flash, the wedding, standing with her mother and Lillian, and being hit by something.

  In shock she asked, “Did you hit me?”

  The duke nearly tripped on his perfectly shined boots. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Something hit me,” Juliana demanded.

  “You are talking nonsensical, Juliana,” her mother’s tone was shrill as she cut in. “The Duke would never strike you. Oh, merciful heavens, do you think this could have altered her mind?”

  Juliana could hear the true plea in her tone, ‘Do you think this could have altered her marriageability?’

  It seemed that the duke couldn’t be through with her fast enough. When he finally set her down, he breathed a sigh of relief. Juliana knew she was on the slender side, so it wasn’t because her weight had been too much to bear. The humiliation of the entire affair took that very moment to impress upon her what an utter fool she must appear to be.

  Trying to gain her bearings, Juliana looked around to see that they were in a pew near the back. To her surprise and utter delight, the duke tugged off his neck cloth and handed it to her. His neck was tanned and decidedly manly to her mind, and she loved seeing the small expanse of chest as well.

  “Thank you,” she said breathlessly as she took the neck cloth into her hands and felt the fine linen.

  The faint smile was back along with an almost incredulous look.

  He cleared his throat and then motioned for her to lift the cloth to her face. “It’s for your nose, you see, to stop the bleeding.”

  Blushing furiously, Juliana did just as the duke had recommended. She couldn’t help but watch him. Having an older brother, Juliana had seen a naked neck before. But Phillip’s neck had never inspired such a thrill to erupt inside her belly.

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said through the cloth. Her voice still sounded strange to her ears.

  “You’ve likely broken it,” he said.

  “What?” she asked, meeting his gaze. Juliana noted that his eyes were kind and held a hint of amusement in them.

  “Your nose,” he motioned toward it again.

  Juliana wanted to sink right through the floor. Her mother was carrying on something fierce beside her, but all Juliana had eyes and ears for was the duke.

  “You will be alright,” he said kindly. “My brothers and I have broken our noses a half dozen times. If anything, you may have a slight bump when everything heals.”

  “She’ll be disfigured?” Juliana’s mother wailed.

  “Momma,” Juliana said in a stern voice, albeit still muffled from the neck cloth. “I am certain I will be fine. His Grace has said as much.”

  He smiled at her then and Juliana quite forgot about her mother, the church, the flowers and certainly her bloody face.

  This was the very look that she had been hoping for just minutes ago. Could the duke possibly have a tendre for her?

  Excitement bubbled up inside of her.

  He bent to lean in close and Juliana thought she might soon. His handsome face was coming nearer to her own and she fought to remember what to do. Was she supposed to close her eyes, purse her lips? Her heart was firing off madly as she saw the flecks of gold in his eyes.

  Just as her lids began to fall the duke spoke, but it wasn’t quite the declaration of love that she had been anticipating.

  “Keep pressure on your nose to stop the bleeding, and err, don’t worry about returning the neck cloth.”

  And then he turned and walked away.

  Chapter 1

  Rye, East Sussex

  Several Years Later

  “I cannot begin to understand what has brought you into the country, Lady Juliana. But I am so very happy you are here. When I learned you were in the neighborhood, I immediately sent you an invitation to visit. As you can see, I am not able to leave the house. Now, please, make yourself comfortable.”

  Lady Juliana Randall, the eldest daughter of the dowager Marchioness of Lancaster, thanked her hostess prettily and arranged her skirts as she took her seat. Juliana’s chestnut hair curled pleasingly around her heart-shaped face. Her hazel eyes that leaned more toward green when she was wearing the color, twinkled warmly at the other woman.

  It had been something of a surprise when Juliana had opened the invitation from Miss Vivian Pressmiser. It had been several years since they had spent any time together. They knew each other through Vivian’s elder sister, Lucy. Juliana had met Vivian at a country house party some years back.

  None of this showed when Juliana expressed her delight upon learning that Vivian was in the neighborhood.

  “Thank you, Miss Pressmiser, I was delighted to hear from you.”

  Vivian flushed a little. “Please, let us not stand on ceremony. Call me Vivian, if you will?”

  Juliana nodded, while the request was a little strange considering their faint acquaintance. Juliana wasn’t so high in the instep as to turn down the girl’s act of friendship.

  “I will certainly do so, Vivian, and you must call me Juliana. Indeed, I had no idea you would be in Sussex. It’s been an age since I’ve seen you. And my, how lovely you look. I do declare, the country agrees with you.”

  Miss Vivian Pressmiser, with her blond hair and pale blue eyes, was the epitome of English beauty. It seemed to Juliana that it was a shame her family didn’t bring the girl out.

  Juliana tried to remember what Vivian’s connections were. If she wasn’t mistaken, the girl hailed from Shropshire. Her family, while well born, was not of the upper crust of society. It seemed that her older sister and only sibling Lucy had caught the eye of a Baron some years ago.

  “You are too kind not to bring attention to my little mishap,” Vivian said, flushing as she motioned to the dressing on her ankle. “I fear that I am not as agile as I once was.”

  Juliana swallowed a laugh at the look on the other girl’s face. It was coming back to Juliana that she had enjoyed the other woman’
s company.

  “I would imagine that you are still far from your dotage,” Juliana replied.

  Vivian finished preparing Juliana’s tea and passed it over as she replied, “Yes, well, it is only that one of the children from the vicarage got their kite stuck in my apple tree. I had a notion that I could just climb up there and get it out again. Like a fool, I did just that, and when I slipped and fell out of the tree, I injured my ankle.”

  “You poor dear,” Juliana exclaimed. “Were you terribly hurt?”

  Vivian shook her head. “Only my pride.”

  Juliana’s eyes lit with amusement. “I have found that sometimes that ailment is the hardest to recover from.”

  Vivian laughed, the sound was young and carefree, and yet her pallor spoke of ill health. Juliana wondered why the girl was residing in Sussex. Perhaps the girl was recovering from something. Not that it was any of her business. Juliana had her reasons for being there, perhaps Vivian did as well.

  “I have to admit that I felt some reservations upon asking you to come. I am sure you are wondering why I imposed on our faint acquaintance. To be sure, I can hardly believe that I dared to write. It is only that you were so kind to me all of those years ago.”

  Juliana flushed, knowing that the girl wasn’t far from the truth. However, Juliana felt a surge of affection for the pretty girl and her honest demeanor. While younger than Juliana own six and twenty, Vivian had to be twenty-three years, perhaps twenty-four. It struck Juliana that she wanted to know what Vivian had been up to.

  “Nonsense, I was thrilled to know that you were in the neighborhood. Please, tell me of your family.”

  Vivian positively lit up when talking about her niece and nephew. It seemed that she was still very close with her sister Lucy. But Juliana was shocked to hear that they hadn’t seen each other in ages. At least they had the ability to trade frequent correspondence.