“Not by choice.” Prudence struggled, jerking her arm and kicking at him. “Unhand me, you brute.”
He leaned in until his breath fanned her cheek. “I intend to sink this ship. You can either come with me, or go down to the ocean floor.”
“I will do neither.” She jerked her arm with all the strength she could muster. Nothing would please her more than to witness her captors down fall. Despite her vengeful wish, she’d not be attending the pirate before her. He could plunder, kill, and sink all he wanted, but she’d not be staying with him.
He released her and she toppled to the floor, the knife slipping from her hands and skidding down the passageway. She scrambled to retrieve her weapon, but he caught her, pulling her off the floor to hold her against him. Her breath caught at the feel of his hard body against hers.
“Do not be foolish, chit. What do you intend to do? Swim to the closest shore? You will never make it. I am the only chance you have at seeing another sunrise.” He pulled his head back and stared into her eyes. “Trust me.”
How infuriating! Did he think her a fool? “Trust is not something I give easily.” She peered at him.
He did not speak, only continued to gaze at her.
She bit her lower lip in an attempt to gather her thoughts. Sincerity shone in the cool blue depths of his eyes. As much as she longed to, she could not argue his point. “Very well, but I will require my blade.”
“So you can slit my throat? I think not.” He gave her a devilish grin.
“Trust is a two way path.”
“Let us start without weapons.” He looked away from her, toward the ladder way.
The last thing she desired was to find herself helpless in the clutches of another blood thirsty pirate. She had to try and sway him. To maintain some sort of control over her life. “I require my knife for protection,” she protested.
He nudged her toward the exit. “I am all the protection you will need. Now hurry.”
Trust indeed. She would show him.
Chapter 2
Jasper studied the honey-haired beauty as Combs, the ship’s surgeon, treated her wounds. She kept her head bent, shielding her hazel eyes from view, but her expression remained in sight. He could not help but admire her strength as the needle poked in and out of her fair skin. The chit watched Combs work with barley a wince marring her lovely face. He had seen some of his men show less bravado.
She glanced up finally, meeting his gaze. Courage and a determination shone in the depths of her eyes, but he also recognized an innate sadness that made him want to help her. Bloody hell, he did not even know her name. Why should he care what happened to the hellion?
Combs tied off the final stitch, then turned to Jasper. “She should heal nice so long as infection does not set in. No permanent damage, but there will be scarring on her arm and foot.”
Jasper nodded. “It’s expected.” With her beauty, scars would not matter. Unlike his marred cheek, her imperfections would only add to her appeal, giving her an edge. Men would fall over themselves to know how she had earned them. To learn all of her secrets. He wanted to know them, too.
“Be sure to pour whiskey on the stitches a couple times a day, Miss.”
“Thank you, Mr.…” She arched a brow.
“Combs.”
The corner of her lips pulled up in a half-grin. “Very well. Thank you, Mr. Combs.” The surgeon’s cheeks flushed as he nodded his good-bye before exiting the cabin.
Once the door clicked into place, Jasper turned back to her. “I would have your name.”
“I owe you naught.”
“You owe me your life.” He stepped closer, determined to have his answer. “If not for me you would still be a captive on the Black Dawn.”
She stood before him, her back straight, shoulders squared. “I would have figured out a way to save myself.”
“I have no doubt you would have given it your best attempt. All the same, I brought you to safety.” He did not doubt the stubborn, foolish woman would have tried to swim to the nearest shore, but she would have perished before reaching land. If she didn’t tire and drown, then the sharks would have feasted on her.
She dropped into a curtsey, sarcasm marring her features. “I am much obliged, Captain Blackmore. However, I shall not be with you for long.”
The chit had more spunk then height. He could not help humoring her by playing along. “And where do you plan to go?”
“America.” She moved toward the door with a slight limp, favoring her left foot.
His heart jumped at the idea of her traipsing out onto the deck. Her wounds proved her resilience and strength—cunning even, but none of that would help her among a band of pirates. She would not be safe among the other men onboard. Her beauty alone would place her in danger. Desperate to stop her, he moved to grab her elbow. “Do you intend to swim the Atlantic?”
She stilled but did not look at him. “I intend for you to take me to a port where I can board another ship. If you refuse, I will steal your skiff and take myself.”
He held his breath for a moment. Their exchange had spiraled out of control. He needed to defuse her temper before she did something they would both regret. “I fear we have gotten off on the wrong note. It is my desire to assist you, protect you even. I cannot allow for you to march out of this cabin haphazardly.”
She spun on him, pulling her elbow from of his grip. “I will do as I please. You do not have ownership of me.”
“You are here by choice, but do remember this is a pirate ship.” He had to make her see reason. Get her to understand that the Marion’s decks were not fit for a woman to traipse across without protection. His men were a good lot, but they were still men. There was no guessing what fate might befall her on deck. For all he knew the men might feel deceived to discover the woman among them and cast her overboard. “Come, let us discuss your situation.”
He directed her toward a chair in front of a mahogany desk. Sitting would take the pressure of the stitches Combs had placed between her toes.
She bit her lower lip then dropped into the chair. “All I wish to know is how you will get me to America. Beyond that, I couldn’t care less what you have to say.”
He could not help but admire her gumption. Never in his life—not even as the duke’s spare, soldier, or privateer—had anyone dared to challenge him as she did. Her actions frustrated him and made him curious at the same time. “First, I will have your name.” He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Then we can decide your future.” He winked.
“Prudence.” Her face flushed.
“Very well. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prudence.” The name rolled of his tongue as if he’d said it all his life and he could not help but wonder whether or not the name suited her. Somehow he doubted that it did. “Are you from America?”
“You have asked enough questions. It is time you answer mine.”
“You may address me as Jasper when in private.”
She stiffened her spine. “I have no need for your given name. Tell me how you intend to get me to America?”
He poured a glass of brandy, taking his time to formulate an answer. The chit amused him. Simply watching her sit there stirred him. She could be dangerous to his plans if he allowed it. All he wished for was to live out his life on the seas. To continue supporting the orphanage and making evil men pay for their crimes. He had no desire to become entangled with a woman no matter how intriguing she was. He took a long sip, clearing his head. “I will arrange passage for you right after my ship is repaired.”
“Repaired?” She echoed him. “How long will that endeavor take?”
Did desperation flicker in her gaze? What awaited her that made her so anxious to reach America? He could not allow himself to be concerned. “First, we must reach a safe harbor. Once there, the men will make short work of the repairs. I will have you on your way in under a fortnight.”
She sprang to her feet. “That will not do. I ne
ed to return to America immediately. Perhaps I can gain passage once we reach your safe harbor?”
Her reaction, the desperation in her voice and movements, intrigued him further. There was far more to this woman than she revealed. A part of him wished to discover what she kept hidden.
“Mine will be the only ship there. Do not fret, you will reach your destination.” He offered what he hopped was a reassuring grin. “In the meantime, you are to stay within my cabin.”
A feeling of foreboding settled in the pit of his stomach. Having an attractive woman in his quarters would be torture, but there was no other way to keep her from harm. Under his pirate’s façade he was a gentleman, second son of a duke, he could control himself. He had too.
* * * *
Prudence felt her pulse quicken at his words. He wished to hold her captive just as the last pirate had. She could not allow it. “I will not remain trapped in here. You will have to come up with a better plan.”
“A pirate’s deck is no place for a woman. I cannot guarantee my men’s good behavior should you go out amongst them.”
“I fail to see how I am any better off in a pirate’s cabin. With you.” She tightened her grip on her bodice where she had been holding the torn fabric together. The way passion flared in his eyes as he looked at her was more than a bit unsettling. She took a step back. It would be over her dead body that this man put his hands on her. He’d done nothing to warrant her fear, but she would be a fool to underestimate him.
“Your virtue is safe with me. I am not in the habit off debauching unwilling women.”
Surely she’d gone mad. What other explanation could there be for her believing his words? All the same, she read sincerity in his eyes. “Do you intend to lock me inside?”
Somehow, she would get through this and make her way home. She had to. With Papa gone, it was her birthright and responsibility to run Drake Shipping. And there was Mr. Stratford. She had to marry him as Papa had wished.
“When I am not in here, the door will be locked.”
“A moment ago you said I could not leave the cabin alone. Does that mean you will escort me onto the decks?” She cocked one hip, brining her hand to rest on it. “I happen to have grown up on ships. I am very familiar with how a vessel is managed, and I am not afraid of sailors, sir. I trust them more than most people. There is no need to keep me locked in your cabin, believe me.”
“You are not my captive.” His jaw ticked as he stared back at her.
“Pray tell me, how do you define prisoner?” She peered at him, but despite her ire she recognized something in him. Captain Blackmore was more than he appeared. It pained her to admit it, but he had not forced her to do anything, nor had he mistreated her in anyway. He spoke to her with sincerity and seemed to care about what she said to him. Was it possible for a pirate to be honorable?
“Very well. I will escort you for a walk once per day while you are on board.”
She smiled triumphantly. “You may do so right after you order my bath and find me fresh clothing. If you do not have a tub, a pitcher of water will do.”
He sighed, turned away from her, then exited the cabin without saying a word.
Prudence’s heart jumped at the sound of the lock turning. Would he send the items she demanded? Would he return as well? Perhaps she should not have been so boorish.
Chapter 3
Jasper had never crossed paths with such an infuriating woman. A bath! On a bloody pirate ship. Who did she think she was? The captain? The way she gave orders, one might think so. Well, he would not bow to her. Perhaps he should not have rescued her at all. He turned the corner entering the galley way. His cabin boy was often found here.
“Kipp,” he called out when he caught sight of the boy, who was more like a son, sharpening a cutlass.
Kipp set aside his work and came to stand before him. “Yes, Captain?”
“Have a basin of cold water and a pile of rags sent to my cabin. You will find the chit I rescued from Black Dawn inside. Leave the items for her along with a pair of your breeches and a shirt. Do not linger and do not allow anyone else entrance. Lock the door when you leave.”
He would wager the woman would not be pleased to wear men’s clothing, or rather boys. It served her right for giving him such a hard time. Perhaps the garments would make her uncomfortable enough to remain below deck. He somehow doubted he would be so lucky, but at least the chit would blend in better on deck wearing breeches. Or would she? An image of her in curve hugging cloth sprang to mind. Bloody hell.
Kipp’s cheeks colored a fraction. “You want me to give her breeches?”
“I do. Now be gone with you.”
“Aye.”
Jasper watched him leave to carry out his orders.
Kipp had been on the Marion for two years now. Jasper had found him beaten and hiding among the bilge water. Rather than sending him to the orphanage, Jasper allowed him to stay on as his cabin boy.
In time, Kipp confided that he had been abandoned. Claimed to be one and six. Plenty old enough to sign the ship’s articles. Kipp seemed happy on the Marion, fit in well amongst his crew, worked hard, and proved himself loyal. He had become like family to Jasper.
“Captain.” Hawkins clapped him on the shoulder from behind, pulling him from his reverie. “What do you have planned for the woman?”
Jasper clenched his jaw. He did not want to discuss her, but Hawkins had every right to inquire. Not only was he a trusted member of the crew, he was also Jasper’s cousin. “She wishes to go to America.”
“Will we be escorting her?” He rubbed the back of his neck.
Jasper had the keen indication that Hawkins did not approve.
Hawkins followed him as he walked. “I have told her I will arrange passage for her, but not until after the Marion has been repaired. For now, we are to stay on course.” He turned to his cousin. “See that Payne and Finch are repairing what they can as we sail.”
“The damage to the Marion was not severe. Payne has already tended to most of the above deck damage. Finch is below, working as we speak.”
“Do you forget I surveyed the damages myself? I have no need of a report. Just see that the repairs continue,” He snapped. Having the woman on board weighed on him, set his nerves on edge in more ways than one. His patience seemed to grow thinner by the minute as well. The situation was not good for him or his crew.
Hawkins nodded. “Yes, Captain.”
“Now, if you will excuse me.” Jasper increased his pace toward the quarter deck, having no desire to talk further. He did, however, have every desire to see how Prudence faired. By now, she should be cleaned up and dressed. Would she still wish to stroll on deck?
“Captain,” Styles called out as he rushed toward him.
A tingle of annoyance coursed through Jasper. “What is it?”
“Do ye remember that blue silk we ‘ad?” Styles grinned.
“What about it?” Jasper arched a brow in annoyance.
“I’d rather show ye, Captain. Follow me.” Styles took off in a jog toward the crew quarters.
Jasper glanced back at the quarter deck before following Styles. He would get this nonsense over with then return to his cabin. Try as he might, he could not keep the chit from his mind. He wanted to see her—needed to see her.
“Since we ‘ave a lady on board, I thought I’d put the fabric to use.” Styles turned into the crew quarters.
Jasper followed, his annoyance growing with every step. “I fail to see what one has to do with the other.”
“Ye’ll see, Captain.” Styles came to a stop then lifted a bundle of fabric from his bunk and shook it out in front of him.
“You made her a bloody skirt?” Jasper stared at the folds of fabric, unsure what else to say. One thing was certain: the woman would not be wearing it on his ship. He had no desire to pamper her. No desire to see her dressed in fine silk. He did not wish for the crew—or if he were honest—himself to see her as a lady. Marion was a pirate ship
, not a London drawing room.
“Figured she’d need somethin’ te wear since her dress was ruined.”
“You figured wrong. This is not a bloody London tea party, Styles.” Jasper turned to leave.
“Captain.” Styles moved to his side and thrusted the skirt into his arms. “She’ll need the finery when she disembarks.”
With a scowl, Jasper took possession of the frock. He dropped the bundle of silk into an empty barrel as he turned for his cabin. The hellion would not be receiving gifts from his crew.
* * * *
Prudence fastened the last button on her borrowed white top, then stepped back to examine herself in the oval mirror over the wash basin. The shirt was not her style, with its billowing neckline and ruffled sleeves, but she was fond of the breeches. She had always preferred men’s pants to gowns. They were less restraining and far less likely to trip a person or get caught on something like skirts often did.
Would Mr. Stratford approve of her wearing men’s clothing? He had seen her in breeches on occasion, and had never so much as raised a questioning brow. Still, that did not mean he would allow it once they were wed. What did it matter? She sighed. It was not as though she had a choice. Papa wanted her to marry Mr. Stratford, and she would do as he wished. Hopefully, the two of them would get on well and grow to love each other.
She took in the details of the room. A wide bed jutted out from the curve of one wall, a mahogany desk stood anchored to the wall directly across from it, and the wash basin occupied the far wall along with a wardrobe. She was especially drawn to a large trunk at the foot of the bed. What might be inside? She moved closer and reached for the latch, playing with the idea of opening it. Pirate treasure? Or perhaps there were personal items that would reveal secrets about Jasper? Her fingers itched to lift the latch. To solve the mystery of its contents.
No, she would not invade his privacy. The trunk probably did not contain anything of interest to her. It was likely stuffed with clothing, old log books, or maps. She would not risk getting caught snooping. Prudence removed her hand from the trunk then sat at the desk. A large map was spread across the surface and a log book sat nearby. She examined the map with true interest, wondering where in the Atlantic she was and where the Marion would stop for repairs.
Captivated by the Captain (Fabled Love Book 2) Page 2