Pirated Love

by K'Anne Meinel

  “But you do not do that?” Claire asked, fearfully, realizing how dangerous it might be to be on such a ship.

  The captain shook her head. Her hair was clubbed back today in a tie and looped back up so its length would not get in her way. It looked lovely, the red especially nice in the morning light through the windows. “Nope, I give an honest day’s pay for an honest day’s work.”

  “But you are pirates!” Claire exclaimed.

  Tina laughed at her naïveté. “Aye we are, but these men know what they are getting into on the Black Betty. We may be pirates, but we are honest ones between us!”

  Claire did not understand, but she was not going to argue. “If they are in prison, and you break them out, is that not illegal?”

  Tina nodded. “Usually the jail I break them out of is grateful to me for relieving them of the burden of a trial. I take men who are willing to work for me, willing to work for a woman, and who otherwise might end up on a worse ship, one that does not share the bounty of what they are risking their necks for.”

  “But don’t pirates steal?” Claire asked, in a little girl’s voice.

  “Aye, you could call it stealing, but you could also call it evening things out a bit,” Tina smiled at the word play.

  “But stealing’s a sin!” she said, horrified.

  “So is gluttony and a few other things. We do not steal from those that truly need it, we are not bloodthirsty, and we ‘donate’ a bit here and there.”

  Claire shook her head at this argument; she could sense she would not win on the ‘stealing’ part.

  “Look, we do not steal from certain ships, only those fat enough to make it worth our while. In the belly of your ship there were certain ‘articles’ that were quite valuable. You were just a bonus,” she added with a grin.

  Claire blushed at the phrasing. To change the subject, she said, “Thank you for having my trunk brought to me. I was able to make some repairs on my clothing.” She indicated the blouse and shift on the end of the captain’s bed, which she had also made once she got up.

  The captain raised an eyebrow at the neatly made bed and nodded. “So you can sew, eh?” she leaned forward to begin eating again.

  “Yes, I can make all my clothes,” Claire replied, proudly.

  The captain nodded and then asked, “Think you can sew a sail?”

  Claire thought for moment, having seen the sailors on her other ship sew the broadcloths that controlled the vessel, and nodded. “It might be a bit thicker than what I am used to, but I would be willing to try,” she replied.

  Tina nodded. “I never could learn to sew, no matter how often I tried.” She chuckled. “Imagine that, a sailor that does not know how to sew!”

  “You mean to be a sailor you have to learn to sew?”

  Tina poured juice from the pitcher into both their cups and nodded. “Every seaman learns how to sew; you need yer sails to get you across these wide open seas. I never could sew a seam worth its weight, so I learned to do other things well.”

  “How did you become a captain?” Claire asked, as she nodded her thanks over the filled cup. Taking a sip of the juice, she was surprised at its flavor. “What is this?” she asked.

  Tina hesitated over which question to answer first and chose the latter. “It is a mix of fruit blends from fruit that’s native to the tropics. Our chef makes it. Sometimes he ferments it and it becomes an alcoholic beverage or like this, he mixes the blend to make a fruity drink. Delicious, is it not?” she asked, as she took a hearty drink. Gone was the fastidious woman of the previous night, she seemed to recall she was a pirate and was hiding the manners she had shown the night before.

  “It is delicious,” Claire responded in agreement.

  “You do not want to be drinking more than a couple of cups full though,” the captain cautioned with a grin, as she filled her own empty cup again.

  “Why is that?” Claire now looked suspiciously at her own half empty cup, wondering why.

  “It’ll give you the shits,” Tina said bluntly, with an even wider grin at the horror on Claire’s face of the subject that they were now discussing, much less the language.

  Claire saw the grin and despite herself she wanted to laugh. The captain looked mischievous in her devilment, trying to shock her. “That reminds me...” Claire started to say.

  “Under the bed and rinse it out when you are done, throwing it out the back window,” she nodded toward the bank of windows that were part of her apartment.

  Claire was blushing at their conversation, but she had her answer. “How do you know I will not jump out them?” she asked.

  “Go ahead, if death is preferable to living,” she responded.

  Claire was surprised at the answer, and looking out the bank of windows at the ocean, decided that drowning would not be a pleasant endeavor. “You would lose your fat reward,” she said instead.

  The captain shrugged. “I have got enough money to last my lifetime, what is a little more or less?” she asked.

  “Then why do you bother?” Claire asked, genuinely interested.

  “It is the excitement, the danger, the intrigue.” A thoughtful look came over the redhead’s face. “I see more of the world than most realize exists. I have been to the Far East, I have been around the Horn, I have seen more people of the world, heard the languages, seen more sights, than could ever be put into books.”

  Claire listened in awe. She had read a lot and loved hearing of those far-off places. Here was someone who had actually been. “But you need not steal to do those things or go to those places?”

  The captain nodded. “You are right. We do not steal that often anymore.” She sighed. “But then the prize was worth capturing this time. They thought by putting it on that particular ship that we would not hear of it or bother. The walls have ears and the ears tend to be attached to a mouth, mouths speak and here we are, in possession of a greater prize than we had anticipated,” she indicated Claire sitting across from her.

  “You wax poetic,” Claire said primly, to hide the telltale blush on her person.

  “Would you like to walk up on deck?” the captain asked instead.

  “Oh, may I? I did on the other ship and quite enjoyed it,” she stated, enthused.

  “You do not get seasick?” Tina asked, amused at her enthusiasm.

  Claire shook her head. “Not that I know of, the only sick I got was at my fiancé’s proximity,” she let slip and quickly hid her mouth in her napkin, realizing she had spoken out of turn.

  Tina laughed, having met the arrogant bastard and having quite enjoyed humiliating him. The little worm had made demands that had no hope of making a difference in her treatment of him or his person. Having tasted of his fiancé’s charms though, she thought she understood his motivations better. She would have fought for this tasty tidbit if it were hers. In fact, the thought of tasting her again whetted her appetite. She stuffed it down. Those thoughts were better left for bedtime. She had a ship to run. “He was a bit on the ugly side wouldn’t you say?” she asked.

  Claire tried to hide the snigger that choked up from her throat and into her nose, but failed. Ugly was not the right word. Disgusting, vulgar, and a few other words sprang to mind.

  Tina was thrilled at the totally unladylike sound coming from her captive. “Are you finished?” she inquired, solicitously, indicating the repast before them.

  Claire nodded and the captain escorted her from the room and up the stairs to the next deck, and then the next, before coming on to the main deck and out of doors. Several of the pirates looked on curiously, but no one made any unkind remarks or looked beyond a cursory glance. The captain had put her stamp on this one and as such, no one wished to incur her enmity. Death would be a welcome privilege if she decided that she had been offended. She had been known to be downright mean in her desire to pay out vengeance.

  “Ma’am,” one of the crew approached them and made a gesture, pulling at the forelock on his hair, “Captain?”


  “Frank,” she responded, nodding to him. “This is Lady Von Hagen. You and the rest of the ship will address her as Lady Claire,” she told him with a warning note in her voice, which was obeyed instantly.

  “Aye, sir, Captain sir,” he said, making the same gesture of tugging at the forelock in salute.

  She nodded as she escorted Claire up another set of stairs to where a large wheel was being manned by a tall and fearsome-looking man wearing a blue sailor’s coat. “This is James. He is my first officer and a helluva good sailor,” the captain said by way of introduction. “Lady Claire Von Hagen,” she told him.

  The man had the prettiest brown eyes that held a touch of sorrow. Claire could sense it radiating from the man as he stiffly bowed from the waist in greeting. She was surprised at the formal bow, as he held onto the wheel with one hand and made it look elegant. “Your servant, Lady Von Hagen,” he said, before standing up straight again and taking the wheel with both hands.

  “Frank will show you about the ship, be your bodyguard as it were,” the captain informed Claire. “Not all the men are what we would consider fit for human conversation. They know better than to trifle with you of course, but Frank will ensure that, will you not, Frank?” she asked the man who had followed them up from the quarter deck to the upper deck where the wheel was located.

  “Aye, sir, I will, sir,” he assured the captain, making his now familiar gesture of respect.

  “James, I will take the wheel now so you can get a bite to eat. Remind them to get the tray from my quarters,” she said, as she effortlessly took the wheel from him.

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” he said, as he waited for Frank to lead Claire from the upper deck.

  Frank showed her all over the decks, the various ones that were on a ship of this size. Most of the men were courteous and polite, taking off hats in a show of respect or, like Frank, tugging at the forelock of the front of their hair. A couple just stared and these gave her the willies. It was a silent tour. Frank was too bashful to talk much and Claire was in awe at the immense ship. “Can we go below?” she asked her tour guide as they began making their way back towards the quarterdeck.

  “The captain did not say anything about showing you below; I would have to ask,” he began.

  Claire realized the Captain commanded respect whether she was there or not, and decided not to argue with the sailor who had shown her around. As they slowly made their way back, she looked up to realize that from her spot on the upper deck, Tina had been able to see them the entire time. Because she was taller than the big wheel in front of her, Claire could see that the captain appeared to be looking off into the distance as she steered the big ship. She was looking at them now as they began to climb the steps to the upper deck.

  “Did you enjoy your tour?” she asked the two of them as they came to present themselves before her.

  “It is a very large ship,” Claire commented.

  The captain smiled and nodded. “Aye, it was built to my specifications,” she said, proudly. “I have only had her a couple of years, but I love her dearly.”

  “Her?” Claire asked, confused. She had heard the sailors refer to her last ship as a ‘her’ as well and it confused her.

  “Aye, all ships are a ‘her’ or a ‘she’ as they become the love of a sailor’s life. Since most sailors are men, it is understandable that the sea and its ships become female. In my case it is understandable as well,” she laughed and Frank joined in as Claire smiled, but blushed at the reference. She had forgotten that everyone on this ship probably knew what had transpired in the captain’s quarters.

  “She was wondering if we might tour below decks?” Frank asked the captain.

  Tina glanced at the two of them and nodded. “I see no reason why not,” she said in return and then nodded again in acknowledgement as Frank made his gesture. Claire looked back once as she went down the stairs and saw that the captain was watching them avidly and blushed again for some reason.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The ship was fascinating to the woman. She had not really gotten a tour of the last one, having no one she could trust to show her. Frank seemed harmless, and while he did not talk a lot, he told her enough that she got the general idea what the various rooms were used for. The kitchen was a delightful surprise, everything nailed down, but spotlessly clean as the chef prepared their next meal. She made a friend for life as she assured him his meals were delicious. James was finishing up his own as he read a book propped up in front of his bowl. He made the gesture of standing up in front of her and she assured him he could sit with her and finish his meal.

  The ship was a surprise. The crew’s quarters were relatively clean and fairly spacious, considering how many it took to man a ship of this size. Each man had room for his trunk, his hammock, and a built-in locker where they could store their gear and booty. The stores were something any merchantman would carry, and while most were stolen, many had been traded for and were due to be delivered or traded for yet again.

  “You are showing me all this, but how can you trust me, as I am your captain’s captive?” she asked, as she was shown some of the riches they had captured.

  “Captain must trust ya,” he replied gruffly and with as few words as he could manage. She had been polite to him too, and that went a long way toward him even answering her.

  Claire had been surprised at the sheer amount of property and merchandise below decks and stored in various trunks, barrels, and boxes. Why, this cargo alone would make any man or woman wealthy beyond their wildest dreams. But her questions over it would have to wait because Frank was not that forthcoming with some of the answers.

  “Do you ever transport animals?” she asked the captain at the first opportunity. Today, it was an early dinner. Supposedly a storm was on the horizon and their next hot meal would be delayed, so they were eating early. There was not a cloud in sight so she wondered at this announcement, but as she had not eaten a lunch she welcomed the hot and delicious fare. Today it was a stuffed chicken garnished with greens she did not recognize. She’d been assured it was a plant unique to the tropics and something England would do well to import.

  Tina shrugged as she bit into her portion of the chicken. She enjoyed her meals as she had to sometimes go days without them. She suspected the storm that was over the horizon was going to delay decent meals for a few days. Having been at sea most of her life she could feel the change in the pressure and knew in her bones that a storm was in the offing.

  “Your hold is certainly large enough and all those goods, surely you make enough of a profit to...” she began to ask, but stopped when Tina cocked a brow at her.

  “Your food is getting cold,” she gestured with a chicken leg at the food on Claire’s plate.

  “I am sorry,” she apologized contritely. She realized she had been quite the chatterbox and that was so not like her. Some of it was nervousness, but she also felt a peculiar excitement at what she had seen.

  Tina shrugged off her apology and wondered what she was thinking after all she had seen and heard. She commented after a while, “Animals are messy.”

  After the long silence, Claire was surprised to hear the captain speak. “But would that not be profitable?” she asked, wonderingly.

  Tina nodded, but then added with disgust, “So would slaves, but I do not believe in trafficking in humans and I do not want the smell either would give the ship.” She shook her head in disgust at the thought. “Once you transport animals or humans, the stench gets into the wood of a ship and you cannot get it out.”

  “You do not believe in slavery?” Claire asked.

  Tina shook her head vehemently. “How would you like it if all your choices were made for you and you had to answer to someone for your very well-being?” she asked, as she pointed once again with her knife.

  Claire thought about it dismally. Her life was like that already. She had not thought of it in the terms of human bondage though. To many people slaves were just that...slaves. They did not
think of them as human beings. They were just a commodity to be traded or sold. She thought about what the captain had said. Her life was very similar in many ways.

  Tina could almost guess what Claire was thinking. As she said it, she realized the blonde was probably answerable to her father in just such a way. She hoped she would realize the similarities and never want to own a human being again.

  To change the uncomfortable subject Claire asked what she would be doing with the rest of her stores.

  “We will put into port and offload it soon. I need to hear the gossip anyway,” she said, knowingly.

  “Where will we put in?” Claire asked, cheering up. She imagined some bright and gay port where she could shop or see something other than the vast ocean she had been on for many months.

  Tina chuckled. “Not like anything you would have ever seen before. The docks in London would look pretty to the ports I will be sailing into.” She realized this aristocrat was in for a shock to her system. “Besides, it is not like you can be seen coming or going on my boat. You’ll remain here.” She gestured to the room they were eating in, her room.

  “You mean I cannot leave here?” she said, dismally. The freedom of exploring the ship that day had been exciting. Even if Frank did not tell her much, it had been exhilarating to think she did not have to stay in her cabin at all times.

  Tina was shaking her head. “It ain’t safe,” she said, knowingly. She thought about how Claire would stick out like a sore thumb with her beauty, her ladylike ways, and her clean appearance in the ports they planned to dock in.

  “Well, with you there or Frank...” she began, but Tina was still shaking her head.

  “We will be busy,” she said, with finality. “I cannot afford to have you gadding about or being seen by the wrong element. I ain’t gonna shed blood for you,” she added.