Black Wolf

by Lori Ann Robinson

  A month ago, he would have taken her right there across his table, pounding into the buxom beauty and then sending her on her way. Now, as he surveyed the sight she made, her olive skin glistening with perspiration, her voluptuous breasts plumped against one arm where she reclined and the dark patch of hair at juncture of her thighs, he felt no stirring.

  Seeing he wasn’t receptive, Consuela sat up and slid from the table. Sauntering over to him, she slid her hands up the length of his chest, cupping his jaw in an attempt to bring their lips together. Nicolai turned his head from the contact and stepped backward out of her reach.

  Locating the dress she’d carelessly thrown on the floor in the corner of his cabin, he picked it up and tossed it along with her undergarments at Consuela.

  “Get dressed and leave, Consuela,” he said.

  Anger flashed in her coal black eyes. “You send me away?” she screeched, clutching her clothing to her breasts, her accent thickening even more as fury disjointed her words.

  “Yes. Your services are no longer necessary. I’ll see that a month’s worth of room and board are sent to the tavern but once that runs out, you’ll need to find another benefactor.”

  “For years, I save myself for you, Nico. I let many rich and handsome men pass by because I belong to you and you belong to me,” she said as she drew her dress over her head. Violently, she tugged on the laces of the corset front.

  “I believed we would marry and I would give you fine sons,” Consuela continued to spit out at him. “And now, you turn me out? Leave me nowhere to go? Withdraw your money? For what? What whore has captured your attention? Is it that English puta everyone has been whispering about? I will find her and scratch the eyes from her face.”

  “Get out before I pick you up and throw you overboard,” Nicolai said, his voice hard. “We had an arrangement and our business has come to an end. If I so much as hear a passing word that you’ve touched Miss St. John, I’ll sell you to the shanties and you’ll be lucky to survive the day.”

  Nicolai opened the door for her exit. She turned in the threshold to confront him once more.

  “You’ll be sorry, Nico. Nobody casts Consuela away and doesn’t live to regret it.” She reared back and spat at his feet before stomping toward the stairs. Nicolai motioned to a nearby cabin boy.

  “See that she’s off the ship and barred entry in the future,” he said. The boy nodded and scurried off to follow the woman.

  He wasn’t worried about Consuela’s threat but it did concern him that in his absence she may seek to cause trouble for Adrienne. There was little he could do to prevent that until he returned from this voyage. Going above board, Nicolai gave the order to weigh anchor and set sail.

  Chapter 9

  In a tavern across the city, one man approached another who sat alone at a table with a tankard of ale.

  Taking a seat, the deckhand doffed his cap and scratched his greasy hair. “I’ve just had encounter with a ghost, it seems.”

  “Aye, well, tis Nassau. There’s a lot of ghosts in the form of men hiding here.”

  “Nay. This wasn’t a man, but I swear by the very breath of Christ himself, it were Miss St. John,” he said, leaning back as a tavern wench set a second tankard down. He laid a coin on the table before drinking deeply.

  “The Admiral’s daughter is dead at the bottom of the Caribbean Sea, mate. There’s no way she would have survived and if she had, she’d have surely been taken captive upon washing up in Nassau. Either way, she’d be dead. The lot of miscreants who occupy this place wouldn’t have passed up a young, tender chicken such as she,” the man said in disagreement.

  “I tell you, it was Miss St. John,” the deckhand said slapping the oaken table. “She said I was mistaken but a face as beautiful as hers would be impossible to forget. What’s more is that she’s claiming to be the wife of a sugarcane plantation owner here on the island.”

  The serving wench who had previously brought ale to the table approached but this time, she sat herself down between the two men.

  “I hear you mention Miss St. John,” Consuela said, her eyes shifting between the men.

  “What of it, Wench?” The deckhand asked.

  “Nothing, except I know of the woman which you speak,” Consuela offered her lie casually. “She is indeed living at the VonPatten plantation but not as a wife. She’s but a lowly instructor to the children who reside there.”

  “And you’re sure this tutor is Adrienne St. John?” the first man asked the whore.

  “Aye,” Consuela said, a smile spreading across her face. “Rumors say she was rescued by pirates after being shipwrecked on Serranilla Bank and decided to make Nassau her home. Master VonPatten needed a tutor and she was given the position.” Consuela chose her words carefully in order to bring no suspicion upon Nicolai. While she wanted the bitch gone, she didn’t want Nico’s neck to pay the price.

  The second man leaned toward the deckhand, eyes glittering as a plan formed. “If she is in fact Miss St. John, Sir William would pay a generous reward for her safe return or at the very least, information of her whereabouts.”

  “Aye,” the deckhand agreed. “He would. As would her fiancé in the Carolinas. He must be beside himself with worry over her fate.”

  “Well then, let’s set about putting his mind at ease.”

  The second man offered Consuela a few shillings for the information but his money was turned away.

  “It’s on the house,” she said as she stood, her eyes glittering with merriment. I told you you’d be sorry, Nico, she mused as she walked away. With the English bitch gone, Nico would have no choice but to come back to Consuela where he belonged.

  Adrienne stopped worrying over the encounter with the man in Nassau after a few days passed and no one turned up at the manor to investigate. Nicolai had been gone almost the span of his month-long journey and she missed him terribly as she attempted to distract herself by immersing her mind and body in activities with the children. She’d grown fond of her students and believed they returned her affection.

  Nicolai’s initial warning that she would have her work cut out for her in tutoring the youngest residents of the manor proved foundless though she’d learned through the other servants that the children had been responsible for running off more than one instructor.

  She found the group funny and bright, as well as cooperative in any game or endeavor she set them about. Yesterday’s scavenger hunt around the manor had kept all of them occupied for most of the day. So that she might also enjoy the hunt, she’d charged the hiding of items to the household staff, which happily complied with her instructions. Today, they were taking their lessons on the beach near the shore so that the children could benefit from the warm ocean air as they learned.

  Raul, the youngest of the students had clambered up into her lap as he often did, snuggling against her while she lectured. At first, she’d been reluctant to allow such informality, but the small boy was simply impossible to resist with his impish smile and ready embraces.

  Adrienne had learned that Raul had been orphaned in Nassau after a prostitute had given birth and decided motherhood was not for her. Upon learning the boy’s fate, Nicolai had taken him into his home and care. He’d gone even further as to give the boy his last name, which endeared Nicolai to her even more.

  She read from a leather bound copy of The Iliad and couldn’t help but think of Nicolai as she did so knowing it was one of his most favorite epics. Adrienne took frequent breaks from the story in order to patiently explain to the younger, less literate children in lay terms, the epic tale. So ensconced in her lesson, she was unaware of the watchful eyes that spied from a distance.

  “Is it her?” The deckhand asked from his hidden position atop a sand dune.

  “Aye. It’s definitely Miss. St. John. It seems we weren’t presumptuous in sending those missives to both her father and her fiancé,” Captain Roderick Frank said.

  He’d worried long and hard over his fate when Sir
William learned of his daughter’s death. He’d been all too happy to send another missive stating that he and his crew were mistaken and the Admiral’s daughter was safe and sound in Nassau. He couldn’t believe his good fortune when two of his men made him aware that the woman lived.

  The wreckage off the coast of Serranilla Bank had cost him several of his men as well as St. John’s daughter and a full cargo bound for the Carolinas. When they’d been rescued by a passing merchant vessel as he and his men floated aboard lifeboats in open water for a few days, he’d promptly sent word of the disaster to Sir William via another ship bound for India. He’d only just learned that his employer was sending a ship to bring himself and his remaining crew back to Bombay.

  Frank was certain St. John would approve of his intention to carry out his initial orders and deliver his daughter to the South Carolina colony as he’d originally been instructed.

  It didn’t prick his conscience that she claimed to be the wife of a plantation owner as only the English Crown could grant a license to wed and he hadn’t seen where any banns had been posted alluding to the fact that her relationship with this VonPatten character was a legally binding one. Since the intention of her marriage to the Puritan had been proclaimed by William St. John through the proper channels in both England and the Carolina colonies, that betrothal took precedence over any other claim. Whether she entered into her upcoming matrimony pure or as the former whore of VonPatten mattered not. That would be her betrothed’s problem. Still, before he carried out his plan to retrieve Miss St. John, he would do a little investigating. It couldn’t hurt to know exactly whom he might be up against should VonPatten decide he wanted his woman back.

  The ship sent to retrieve them was due to arrive in four days. After learning that Miss St. John had denied her identity to his deckhand, Frank was well aware that she likely wouldn’t come willingly on board with him.

  He’d wait until the day the ship reached port and then he’d send his men to collect her by any means necessary. Easing from his hiding spot, he and his men headed back toward Nassau in search of answers.

  Nicolai was already sick of being at sea and that was unusual for him. It wasn’t so much the voyage he was weary of, but the lack of Adrienne in his arms. By week two, he was irritable and less than merciful when his ship intercepted the vessel bound for England.

  The grappling hooks were thrown out and his men boarded the cargo ship with little difficulty. Upon overtaking the deck, there was a minor skirmish in which Nicolai, low on patience, ended up running his cutlass through several of the men. The rest had joined his crew after the captain and his officers bled out at their feet.

  Sheathing his cutlass, he barked orders for the plunder to be transferred as he returned to The Chameleon. Once his men and the newest members of his crew were safely on his deck, they sank the merchant vessel with a cannon blast to its hull.

  Truth be told, the entire event seemed almost anti-climatic and he could never remember being this uninterested in a hunt and seizure.

  He’d barely blinked when they’d brought over coffers full of gold and silver coin. Full trousseaus of expensive women’s garments as well as other personal baubles and belongings which said that some of this cargo had been sent for a specific lady earned little more than a dismissing wave from him. He supposed they were stealing someone’s dowry, but that was of no concern to him when he imagined how beautiful Adrienne would be in these gowns of silk and lace. Just the thought of her in those fine gowns set his blood to heating. Because of that, he made an immediate decision.

  “Draw down the flag and replace it with the decoy,” Nicolai ordered. “We immediately set sail for Nassau. If the wind is right, we may see port in half the time.”

  His crew raised eyebrows at the captain’s desire to end the voyage at sea so quickly but didn’t question his whim, as they were aware they’d take a large cut of the booty once they returned home.

  Money always drove a pirate. Money and women. The lure of both was too much for the men to dismiss as it took one to buy the other.

  “Done so soon?” Damon asked as Nicolai took over the wheel of the ship. “There was once a day not too far in the past when you’d have taken first one vessel and then immediately set off in search of another. Tiring of a pirate’s life?”

  Nicolai ignored the question, keeping his eye on the horizon.

  “I see,” his Sailing Master said, his statement holding a wealth of understanding. “Cooper was correct when he said it’s not the sea you’re pining for these days but the soft arms of your woman.”

  “Her depths are certainly more comfortable than that of the sea,” Nicolai offered, a smile creasing his lips.

  “Aye, to be sure. Will this be the beginning of the end for you as captain?” Damon asked.

  Nicolai grunted. “Are you vying for my position?”

  “Not I, Nico, but you are well aware if there is talk that you’re planning to retire or have gone soft, there are a few on this ship that would happily fight to claim it as their own. You will be in danger of constant mutiny,” he warned.

  The fact that he couldn’t even muster up any faked enthusiasm for this latest venture wasn’t lost on Nicolai and if he recognized it, he knew the men did as well. He also knew they talked. Damon was right. If a choice few believed he were ready to give up pirating, even if it weren’t true, they’d be after him like rabid dogs. He’d have to try harder to show them that he was still in charge and still their leader.

  “Chart course for the Orient,” Nicolai said with a grim look. “We’ll see what Siam has to offer us.”

  “Aye, sir,” Damon said, going off to consult his maps.

  Nicolai ground his teeth together and turned the bow of the ship away from Nassau. This would mean that rather than returning to Nassau in two weeks time, he wouldn’t see the island for at least two months, possibly three, if the weather weren’t fortunate. His pride dictated that he prove not only to his men, but to himself as well that his heydays of ruling the sea weren’t over. The snap of the sails unfurling reminded him that the sea was, and likely always would be, his first mistress.

  Adrienne walked with Raul’s small hand in hers as they strolled along the shoreline. She was very careful not to move further than Nicolai’s property, but this daily practice of walking the beach at sunset had become a ritual for her and the boy. They both missed the master of the house and awaited his return in two weeks time and Adrienne found it difficult to concentrate on anything except his absence.

  Immersed in her thoughts, she did not see the hands, which grabbed her from behind. Nor did she have an opportunity to scream, as she was knocked unconscious by a blow to the side of her head. Her body collapsed into the arms of the man behind her. Raul’s cry was cut short by a hand over his mouth as the small boy was lifted roughly, kicking and screaming while he carted away with his mistress.

  Chapter 10

  “I demand to know where you’ve taken the child that was with me,” Adrienne hissed at her captors.

  She’d come to in a chamber onboard a ship, alone. After beating on the locked door and screaming for someone to let her out, she was surprised when the captain of her father’s ill-fated vessel entered the room.

  “The African boy is down in the hold as befitting his station, Miss St. John. We can have him brought up if you require he attend to you, but if he’s not yours, he’ll be sold once we reach the colonies.”

  “He is not African,” she seethed. “He’s Bahaman and is my property; given to me as a gift by Nicolas VonPatten.” Adrienne hated that she had to reduce her relationship with the child down to ownership, but such was the way of the world. His kind was seen as an inferior and accorded no rights, even less so than she as a woman had. It galled her that Raul was little more than a possession to be bought and sold.

  “Can you provide documentation to prove your claim?” Captain Frank asked.

  Dread and fear swamped her. If she couldn’t convince him that Raul w
as her property the boy would be sold and hope of ever recovering him would be impossible.

  “It’s not as if you miserable oafs gave me opportunity to gather my belongings and important papers,” she snapped.

  “I do apologize for the inconvenience we might have imposed on you but I’m still required to prove ownership of the boy.”

  “Ask him,” she said. “Bring him up here and ask him in front of me who owns his person. He’ll tell you that Nicolai gifted him to me.”

  It was a long shot. The boy may be too young and innocent as yet to understand the gravity of their situation and his place in the world but it was the only thing Adrienne could come up with.

  Nicolai didn’t consider the people of his household to be possessions. They were his family and he treated them with thus regard. Raul likely had no knowledge because his life within in the safety of Nicolai’s plantation had conditioned him to be seen as an equal.

  None of it mattered at the moment, however. Adrienne was willing to say whatever it took to persuade the captain to allow the boy to remain in her presence and safe from the sale platform.

  Captain Frank opened the door a fraction and issued a command before closing it once more.

  “I’d like to know why you denied your identity to my man, Miss St. John. A woman such as yourself can’t honestly believe she’s capable of living free in a place such as Nassau or anywhere else for that matter, and we know you are not legally VonPatten’s wife. Why would you want your family to believe you were lost at sea?”

  Adrienne paced the cabin, her arms crossed over her breasts. “I’ll answer your questions, Captain, when you deem to answer mine,” she returned. “Where are you taking me? Back to my father?”

  Weeks ago had someone told her she would return to Bombay and to her father’s care, she would have rejoiced in the knowledge that her engagement to the Puritan had been dismissed.