The Ladys Pirate

by The lady's pirate (lit)

  "I'll certainly go mad if I have nothing to keep me busy." Once again she thought of Patsy's constant motion and realized wryly, Patsy's purpose was to pick up after her mistress.

  Elspeth chuckled. "It seems I'm to be my own maid on this voyage." So, she got up and spent the better part of the morning, or so it seemed to her, tidying up the cabin. She even found herself picking up after the Captain himself.

  Where had he slept while she was taking up his quarters?

  She pushed aside the quite inappropriate thought. It was certainly none of her business.

  Still, while shaking out his clothing, pressing them against her body as she had seen Patsy do to smooth out wrinkles, and then folding them and laying them in a pile on the bed, she breathed deeply, memorizing his scent, unique, unforgettable and attractive to her as the flower to the bee. The fragrance of the clean salt ocean. The bracing wind.

  And there was another odor, or rather a musky essence, one which evoked the image of a man who worked hard. All the gentlemen of her acquaintance were careful to mask themselves with perfumes and tonics.

  Again she held the garment to her nose.

  Strange that she did not find it repellant. Quite the contrary, in fact. It smelled real.

  What sort of figure did he cut on the deck above her head? Her gaze rose from the point of unfocus before her to the ceiling just above her head. He was there. On his deck.

  She shook herself. Ridiculous. She was getting as addled as Geoffrey with her romanticizing of Black Hal Merritt. Yet, she knew it was the man, not the myth-yet to be written, for sure-which enticed her.

  A man as far beyond her reach as the sun and the stars. She lay his breeches on the pile of clothes. Such a homey task. One a wife would perform for her husband.

  How twisted and peculiar her own marriage had been. Would another man have found marriage to her more pleasant?

  She roamed around the cabin another time. It was straightened and there was nothing else to do. Her gaze fell upon on a trunk, what she supposed must be his sea chest.

  Did she dare?

  What would she learn in the contents of that trunk? She shouldn't pry into his private things.

  Then she caught sight of the pile of clothing on the bed.

  "I should put these away."

  Of course, it was only an excuse should he walk in and find her poking about in his private property. She raised the lid and laid the clothing inside, then lifted the other layers of clothes and looked beneath.

  A glint of gold caught her eye and she squealed out her delight. Books. Pushing aside the clothing, she peered at the collection buried at the bottom of the trunk.

  Elspeth felt shame at her surprise as she read the titles. Keats, Shelley, Byron, even Thomas Carlyle's history of the French Revolution, as well as some names she didn't know. Cooper, Hawthorne.

  Of course he had Coleridge. Elspeth thumbed the well-read copy of the Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

  If he'd actually read this collection, her savage pirate was a better educated man than she'd thought him to be. Much better read than many gentlemen of her acquaintance.

  What other depths did he hide? Was she a fool to yearn to discover each one?

  Alex often said a man was what he read. Taking out The Last of the Mohicans, Elspeth settled herself on the padded cushion under the stained glass windows along the back of the boat and began to read.

  * * * *

  "Countess?"

  When she didn't answer, Hal peered around the door. He spied her curled on the cushions of the transom seat, deep in a book. The light was barely strong enough to see.

  "Countess?"

  "What?" The book fell from her hands.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he said.

  "I didn't hear you come in."

  Hal strolled over to her and picked up the book from the floor. "The Last of the Mohicans?"

  "I hope you don't mind. I found it in..." Her gaze flitted across the cabin to his sea trunk. A very becoming blush flooded her cheeks. "I apologize, Captain. I shouldn't have snooped."

  "Not at all. I should have thought to offer." He crossed the cabin and opened the trunk, taking out clean clothes. "Would you prefer to dine alone tonight? I can have Cole bring it."

  "Where do you usually dine?"

  "In the mess with the crew."

  "Mess?" Her eyes lit. "Doesn't sound appetizing."

  He laughed at her joke. "Just another word sailors made up to protect the mystery of the sea."

  She smiled. "Would it be permitted for me to join you and your crew?"

  He was amused at the silly delight he felt at her request. "Of course. It would be our pleasure. I'll come by to escort you forward in a few minutes."

  She glanced down at her clothes. "Is this appropriate?"

  He thought she was dazzling. Instead of the braids holding her hair tightly to her head, a russet halo caught the last rays of sunshine around her shoulders. The green bodice made her eyes even greener and the filmy material hugged her like a lover.

  Yes, dazzling. Radiant. Exquisite.

  "We dine informally in the mess. You'll be a welcome guest, no matter your costume." He turned to go.

  "Captain, may I ask you a question?" When he'd turned back to her, she asked, "Why would my being a redhead be a matter of comment?"

  "Who commented?"

  "The man who brought my tea this morning said some things."

  Hal felt heat rise up his face. "Ah, well, that was Cole. He's something of an eccentric. I wouldn't pay too much attention to him."

  She nodded, but Hal could tell his reply had not satisfied.

  Escaping before she could ask any other unfortunate questions, he hurried to the guest cabin to change. He'd have to warn the crew to be careful about how they behaved toward the Countess. Though she looked every sailor's carnal dream in her green and red, she was still a proper English lady and he'd make sure the men knew it. Or answer to him.

  * * * *

  A knock at the cabin door alerted her to her escort's arrival. Elspeth reluctantly put aside the novel and rose from the window seat.

  "Come in, Captain."

  The door opened, revealing Hal beyond in the corridor. He'd pulled his long, straight black hair back in a tight sailor's queue, accenting his finely chiseled face. His shirt was snowy white, emphasizing the copper of his skin.

  She couldn't help staring. He was a beautiful man.

  "Are you ready for supper, ma'am?"

  "Yes, though I hate to leave my book."

  He smiled. "It is excellent, isn't it?"

  "Quite exciting. Surely nothing like my normal reading choices."

  He offered her his arm and she took it, allowing him to lead her along a narrow corridor lit only by an occasional lantern.

  "This is your first time out. Perhaps you would like a tour of the ship later?"

  "That would be very nice. I could use the exercise. Inactivity is difficult for me."

  "I hadn't realized noble ladies were so well-occupied."

  "I manage my own affairs, so at least my mind is kept so." She turned to him. "I hope you hadn't thought me vapid."

  He laughed. "Never would I consider you vapid." He stopped at a set of steps. "Here we are. We must go up on the main deck and over to the other stairs. After you, my lady." He motioned her to go ahead.

  She stepped out onto the deck and inhaled the rich sea air. A breeze whipped across the deck, laced with the tang of salt. She'd never been to sea before, not even to cross the Channel, and found herself drawn to the rail. The polished wood gleamed in the late sunshine and she yearned to touch it.

  Elspeth lay her hands on the rail and leaned over, staring into the frothing water. The ship dipped, sending a spray into her face, all cold and clean and salty.

  "Countess!" Hal grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the side. "Be careful."

  The tone of his voice-angry, frightened, perhaps?-shocked her.

  "Captain, I
was not falling over."

  "You're not used to being on a ship. You have to get your footing before you know whether you're going over or not." He let her go and took a step away from her. "Just be careful please. I have enough guilt to handle just having you here without you drowning on me."

  She laughed. "I will attempt to stay alive, Captain. But as you say, you brought me here, so at least let me enjoy the voyage." She turned back to the rail and gazed out at the endless water.

  "Water, water everywhere."

  "Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink;

  Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink."

  They shared a smile as he finished the quote from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

  "It's so unbelievable. So much water." He allowed her to stand there for a long time, just looking at the ocean.

  "The Pacific is bigger, bluer, warmer," he whispered in her ear.

  When had he come up so closely behind her? Was he afraid she'd jump, fall, be pulled over by some sea monster?

  Or did he simply wish to be closer to her? To breathe in her scent as she breathed in his? Even over the smell of the sea and the breeze, she could detect his unique scent, the undefinable mixture of pine and salt and leather and man.

  Elspeth realized her breathing had quickened, her heart pounded. She forced herself to calm down and turned to him.

  "I believe I am hungry."

  As she heard her words, she clamped her lips shut, for she knew her hunger was not for food only.

  His eyes glittered and she wondered if he understood her unintended meaning.

  "Let's go have some supper, Countess." Again he offered his arm, a perfect gentleman.

  She kept her silly mouth shut, lest some other revealing statement come out, and let him take her to the safety of a crowded dining room.

  The dining room was indeed crowded, that is, it was small, so any group of diners could be considered a crowd. Hal led her to the single large table at the middle of the room. It was an excellent seat for observing the crew at their meal.

  And perhaps for being observed by them. Hal took a place at her side.

  "Stew, milady?"

  Elspeth turned toward the voice. It was the man who had brought her tea earlier. "Thank you, yes."

  "Not the fine vittles you be use'ta."

  "I'm certain it is delicious."

  The man grunted and moved on to serve the Captain who flashed him a warning glare.

  Elspeth felt certain if that glare ever fell upon her, she would creep away, duly chastised. Cole, however, only grunted again.

  "Boy, bring the Captain and his lady some bread."

  The chatter which had served as background noise disappeared.

  "Cole," Hal said loud enough that all could hear. "Countess Greymere is our guest. She is not anybody's lady. Do I make myself clear?"

  Cole grunted again. "'Course, Cap'n."

  When he picked up his spoon, she did likewise, just as her stomach mortified her with a stentorian growl.

  Cole guffawed. "A gal with good appetites, Cap'n. Don't be too quick to toss her back."

  Heat flew up Elspeth's cheeks as the crew laughed at Cole's comment.

  Hal started to rise. Elspeth laid her hand on his arm and held him.

  "It must be the fine food which elicits such a lusty response, Mr. Cole."

  She could hardly believe she'd said it.

  Cole came back and eyed her.

  "Lusty, be it? Too bad I'm not a decade or two younger, gal." To Hal he added, "Aye, I tol' ya, Cap'n. A redhead on a ship is trouble."

  Cole winked broadly at her, and though his mouth remained in a pressed line, his watery blue eyes crinkled in a smile.

  Hoping to defuse the situation, she decided to play along and gave him her best flirtatious smile. He wandered off to continue serving.

  The crew watched in silence as Cole turned to serve the others, waiting to see how their Captain would respond.

  Murderous was the only word Elspeth could think of to describe his appearance. His eyes had narrowed and a muscle jerked in his jaw. He watched Cole move around the room, reminding her of a hawk tracking his prey.

  "Cole, outside."

  The old sailor turned, his face uneasy.

  What was Hal thinking? Whatever it was, it was her fault. But she'd only meant to put everyone at ease. There certainly was no reason to play the noble lady on a shipload of Americans who didn't give a feather or a farthing about the Countess Greymere.

  When Hal rose to his feet, Elspeth followed him. Then she elbowed him, an effect for the crew's benefit.

  "Come, Captain, Mr. Cole and I were only having a bit of a joke. There's no reason to make anything-"

  He turned his narrowed gaze on her.

  She clamped her mouth shut and took a step back.

  "Ma'am, you will stay out of the business of my ship."

  He started to move away from the table.

  "Stop it this instant." Elspeth grabbed his arm, only managing to disturb her broken wrist. She cried out in pain, then held her arm close to her and scowled at Hal. "Now, do you see what you've done?"

  He spun back to face her. The crew sat mesmerized, watching, as though they were in choice seats in a Drury Lane theatre.

  Too late to back out now. She wouldn't let Cole bear Hal's wrath.

  "What have I done, my lady?" Hal asked, his voice too quiet.

  "I am not your lady."

  "No, you are not."

  Why the ridiculous twinge in her heart at that statement? He was only speaking the truth.

  "You're not going to take him outside."

  "I'm not?"

  "No. You are not."

  "Why not?"

  "Because this whole situation is your fault." She punctuated these last words with her finger against his solid chest. It took no more than an instant to know that was a mistake.

  He stepped closer and stared into her eyes. "I've already told you not to meddle in my business, Countess."

  Elspeth raised herself to her full height, which almost brought them eye-to-eye.

  "I shall meddle where I please, Captain Merritt. I will not tolerate brutality."

  Guffaws broke the silence of the dining room.

  He stared at her for a long moment. "You think me a brute?"

  She fixed him with a stare. "You may take my words as you wish."

  "You're protecting this ancient sea-dog?"

  Cole grinned at her over the Captain's shoulder. Elspeth's gaze moved around the dining room. To a man, the crew was smiling at her.

  Of course it was ridiculous. He was a pirate captain. He ruled by the will of the crew. What a fool she was.

  "Well, gentlemen. It appears the lady will not tolerate brutality. Therefore, I decree there shall be no brutality for the duration of this voyage."

  When he turned back to her, his gaze was fond. She suddenly didn't feel quite so much a fool.

  "Shall we dine, my lady?"

  It sounded too sweet for her to correct him again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The stew was savory and hot and filling. The Madeira served to make her head light enough to float off her shoulders. When the meal was through, the men who had eaten with them went up to relieve others so they could eat. She and Hal followed.

  "How many men do you have in your crew?" she asked as Hal led her around the main deck.

  "Ten."

  "That doesn't sound enough to manage a vessel this size."

  "I find it sufficient."

  "How did you learn to be a sailor?" She starved to know more about him.

  "My father taught me. He was a sailor before he found shopkeeping more to his liking. Sometimes we needed more money than the store brought in, or-" He chuckled. "He just missed the sea and would go on a voyage. When I was big enough he took me with him. He told me a man could always find honest work as a sailor." He guided her around a large apparatus of bars and rope in the middle of the ship. Whe
n he noticed her staring at it he said, "Pump. For pumping out belowdecks if we take on water."

  They walked on in the twilight. Around them sailors carried out their duties, hands and feet swift and sure.

  She was content to walk with him around his ship, to listen to his voice as he named the parts: foremast, mainmast, mizzenmast. Then he named the sails, as though each one were a friend of long acquaintance: moonsail, skysail, royal, topgallant, topsail, which she was amused to learn wasn't the top sail at all. She learned the difference between the maindeck and the quarterdeck; how the wheel turned the tiller; how the Captain deciphered the stars to determine their location.

  He could make a sailor out of her.

  The watch called nine bells. Hal glanced around as though awakened from a sleep.

  "Have I really been talking that long?" His sheepish expression told his embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I should have thought of some more lively entertainment. You must be terribly bored."

  "Not at all," Elspeth said truthfully. "I have found the most interesting conversationalist is one who loves his subject. Your passion for your ship is most intriguing."

  "You are gracious, my lady."

  They walked on, arm in arm, down the few steps to the maindeck and continued toward the bow.

  "You've never been on a ship before?" he asked.

  "Never, so everything is new and interesting to me."

  He chuckled. "Nevertheless, I'll attempt to keep myself to more general subjects."

  "Then I may be forced to ask you direct questions to learn what I want to know."

  "I don't doubt you're capable of that."

  She had to laugh. "I am certain I drive my steward to madness. My father wasn't much of a manager and FitzWilliam had a freer hand in running the estate."

  "Have you found him untrustworthy?"

  The question stunned her. "By no means. He tends Greymere as though it were his own."

  Hal didn't respond to that but she felt tension tighten his arm under her hand. Why would he react in such a way? She felt a ridiculous need to defend her steward.

  "Greymere is FitzWilliam's home. He would do nothing to jeopardize it."