“I didn’t think of it that way.” He nodded to agree. Taking the ripped book out of my hand, he pulled one of his folded pieces of parchment out from between the tattered pages. “The book’s too slashed up to be reading, but I’ve got something else for us to do.” He shuffled through his duffle.
Watching him pull out a quill and a bottle of ink, I asked, “What else do you have in that magical bag of many things?”
“Ah, if I told you it wouldn’t be so magical. Now see, I been drawing these beautiful islands for years, every curve of the coasts and every peak of the mountains. I think you’re just as pretty and I want to draw you, too.”
My heart melted as I sighed, “I would love that.”
“All right, just lean against the rock there and look pretty like you do. You can talk to me but don’t move too much.”
I leaned against the rock and stretched my legs out on his coat. He came over to perfect my pose. Bending my knee so my dress fell around it, he shaped the fabric in a way that left most of my thigh exposed. Then he pulled the sleeve of my dress down so my shoulder was bare and the curve of my breast peeked out of my falling collar line. As he went back to his parchment I stuttered, “Are you sure? This is so…so provocative.”
Looking me over with hungry eyes, he rumbled, “That’s exactly why I want to do it. But don’t worry, I’ve never drawn a face before so it probably won’t end up looking like you anyways.”
As he worked, his unusually calm demeanor made it easy for me to sit still. Enchanted by the way his hand swept the ink across the paper as smoothly as the wind breezing through the trees above me, I kept a close eye on every move he made. His eyes easily veered between my body and his artwork, but as he sketched the bend in my knee I was alarmed by the serious expression that coated his face.
Without looking at me, he said, “You know, the other night Oliver asked me what I would do with my life now that I was married. As dumb as it sounds, I didn’t put much thought into what we would be doing next. So, what is it that you want to do with the rest of our life, sweetheart?”
I liked the way he said our life. Smiling playfully, I suggested, “Can’t we just stay right here?”
“Wouldn’t that be sweet,” he sighed.
“I guess I haven’t thought too much about what we would do next, either. But I’ll be happy as long as we are together.”
“You make it sound so easy, beauty.”
“Well, why wouldn’t it be?” I defended.
He smiled, “It will be. I’ll figure it out and we’ll be fine.”
It was his job to figure it out, but I wanted to help. What would be my part in making it work? Thinking about all the things Mary and Kathleen had told me about being a good wife, I knew supporting his decisions was very important. I also knew I was supposed to make sure he was comfortable. Looking at him sitting there in the shade, adding his signature compass rose to the bottom of the page, I thought about how content he looked. He never asked for anything or complained about anything, so I had no idea what he would need from me.
Seeing that he was done with his drawing I sat up straight as I stuttered out my tumbling thoughts, “I…I know you will figure it out, and I trust that you will take care of me. You can fight to protect me and hunt to feed me, but well, I want to do things to take care of you, too.”
He raised his eyebrow with a flirtatious flare, but I smirked at his insinuation. “I am thrilled to be your dashing sex vixen, but you could get sex anywhere if that was all you wanted. I know you married me for more than just that, and I want to be more than just that for you.”
He made that awkward face that meant he was thinking things that he didn’t want to say.
“Tell me what you are thinking, my love.”
“Eh, why do you like to make me talk about everything?” He winced.
“How else will I know what you are thinking or feeling?”
After chuckling at my persistence, he took a deep breath. “And that’s exactly what you do for me, Charlie. You make me feel.” He shrugged his shoulders as if he rejected the thought.
I insisted that he continue.
Looking reluctant, he said, “I see the world differently since you came along. Sometimes I like it, and other times it makes a crazy man out of me. But truly, everything around me means more now, and in a way I kind of like it.”
Setting his quill next to his inkwell, he waved me over and pulled me onto his lap. “Now, belay all this trying to make me talk about my feelings and take a look at this queen.” He showed me the drawing.
My jaw dropped. It was all me. He had my hair covering most of my right eye, but he’d drawn the curve of my smile and accented the dimension of my nose with a few of my freckles. My body was all mine, every curve portrayed me to perfection, just like the islands that he would draw. As I had worried, the pose was rather revealing, and now that there was no doubt that the sketch was of me, I inquired, “What are you going to do with this?”
“Just one more thing to keep in my magic bag of many things.” Thrusting his hips beneath me, he kissed on my neck as he growled, “So tell me more about this sex vixen you speak of.”
Though I laughed at his comment, I was more than happy to satisfy his request.
Attempting to play the part of a confident wench, I put my hand on his chest and lightly pushed him against the rock. He smiled at me. “Do what you want with me, beauty.”
His breath heightened as I kissed around his tattoo. As I moved my mouth down his belly, he tightened his fist around my locks. While doing what I wanted with him, I thought about my good fortune…
Of all the places this wonderful man had been, and of all the women he had experienced, he chose me. This sheltered young girl who had never left home, and had never known the touch of a man. Now, here I was, loving on a world traveled buccaneer under a shade tree on a secret beach somewhere in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. He could be anywhere he wanted to be, with whoever he wanted to be with, and he chose to row through a storm to rescue me so he could make me his wife.
Chapter 14
Charlie, My Hurricane
As Told By Sterling Bentley
“Wake up, love.” Charlie shook my shoulder.
My eyes shot open at the sound of her voice. Taking in the sight of the darkened bunkroom around me, I felt the terror of the night haunt flee my waking soul.
“You were having a nightmare.” Her voice was so sweet in contrast to the sour memory still ringing in my mind. Rubbing my sweaty face in my hands, I thought about how I hadn’t had a nightmare since she had been sleeping next to me—on that island or now at sea on our way to Jamaica. I sure as shit didn’t miss them. Tickling her fingers across my chest in a way that cooled my sweat, she said, “You grumbled something about mud.”
“The damn mud,” I huffed. “As if the day itself wasn’t shitten enough, whenever I dream about it I have to sink in that brackish mud puddle.”
The mouthful tumbled out before I had a chance to refrain. Having never talked to anyone about that part of my life, I hardly had a mind to start sharing the rotten memory, but of course she had to ask, “What day was that?”
I tried to distract her from the thought, but even in the middle of the night, that woman wouldn’t let me have peace. She asked me a few more questions until I snapped, “The day I had to become a damn sea captain.”
Skipping right over my foul response, she giggled, “Oh, I thought you would never tell me.”
That blaggard ol’ Baudin must have told her. Sure that he had twisted the tale into some outlandish falsity I would have to correct, I barked, “What the hell did that cannon-fodder pirate king tell you?”
“He told me your father died in a terrible battle and you had to captain the crew in his place. He said it was very honorable of you. I wasn’t going to pry, but now that we are talking about it, I would like to hear the story.”
“Aye. That’s what happened. But I am not interested in sharing the tale.”
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Fully expecting her to dig for details, I was surprised when she kissed me on my cheek. Tucking into my side, she said, “Well, I am here for you if you ever do want to talk about it.”
I figured I never would, but I was stunned by her invitation. Lying there on that wooden floor with my woman’s loving arms wrapped around me, I wondered if I’d ever get used to having someone care about me.
X
A colorful trail of light lingered over the horizon as the island of Jamaica came into sight. With the warm evening breeze whipping at our lee, we’d be anchored and unloading our loot in the early hours of night. The easy sail from Ile De Amoureux had the captain convinced that the curse that burdened us had been lifted, and though I wasn’t much for his superstitions, I joined him for his celebration drink. There was indeed plenty to be celebrating. Our ship was in good shape, our hold was full of loot, and a wild night in port awaited us. Life was good under Flynn’s black flag.
As the color of night coated the sky and the stars made their gleaming appearance, we sailed past the entrance of the harbor and weighed anchor beyond the wave break just east of The Royal Poinciana. With the lights of Port Royal flickering in the near distance, the crewmen stashed their pockets with loot while blathering on about the reckless ways they’d be spending their plunder. I had managed to get myself sloppy drunk, and while I waited to load up on my portion of the prize, I rambled on with their rowdy suggestions.
Amidst my enjoyments, I caught a glimpse of Charlie standing by the gunnel. She was talking with Kathleen. The sight of Kathleen’s obviously pregnant silhouette caused the terrifying visual of Charlie’s belly growing round to flash through my mind. What if I did that to her? What the hell would happen then? I hadn’t thought about the fearsome possibility yet, and I couldn’t handle the spiraling torrent of worry that the concept inflicted upon my heart.
Shaking my head to clear the thought from my mind, I began sorting through my duffle to be sure I had what I needed to go ashore. During my sloppy fumbling I dropped my battered old Bible. All the notes and drawings I kept in it scattered across the deck. Knowing Charlie would lose her mind if anyone saw my drawing of her, I quickly went after the mess. As I pulled the pages together I saw a few of the notes she had written in her fancy handwriting. In the glow of the lantern light my eyes focused in on the one on top.
We are but a day or two away from Port Royal and though the sail has been incredibly smooth, my heart has been turbulent like a storm. Knowing I cannot return home as the wife of a buccaneer, I fear that I will never be able to return at all. Once again my heart pays the painful cost of loving a pirate…
There was more to it but those words annoyed me enough. Putting everything back in my duffle, I stood up just in time to see Charlie walking towards me. Her downtrodden expression amplified the words in her note. There would be no distracting myself from the issue now.
As the men rushed to the boats and began rowing ashore, Charlie grabbed on to me. Trying to hold back her tears, she choked on them as she spoke, “It breaks my heart to be this near my father and not be able to see him. I wonder what he is doing. I thought I could drink myself out of the pain…” The tears began flowing. Her voice trembled over the sobs, “…but I realized there is not enough rum in the world to dilute the intensity of my heartache.”
Holding onto her as she wept, I festered in my frustrations. There was no way to fix the problem at hand, and even if there was, I was too drunk to say anything reasonable. Beyond that, my view of the lights of town, which were blurry in my intoxicated haze, reminded me of how I had been looking forward to going to shore. But now, I had a woman crying on my chest instead. Oh, how my life had changed.
While patting her on the back, I wondered how many times a month a woman could cry. It seemed like such an exhausting event. With those things on my mind, I ended up saying something I shouldn’t have, “You can’t be crying all the time, Charlie. It wears me out.”
Backing out of my arms, she glowered at me. “Wears you out? How do you manage to make everything about you?”
I looked at her as if I’d smelled something foul. “Things never had to be about anyone but me before I had you to deal with. But now this…” I trimmed her outline with an animated gesture. “This is all my problem now. One sweet little package of teardrops and problems.”
Her jaw dropped. “How dare you be so cold to me while I am hurt?”
I fanned my hand at her. “Ah, well at least I’m not lying to you, saying everything is fine when you know damn well it isn’t. That’s right. I saw your letter about how it’s so painful to love me. You’re no victim to the life I live, Charlie. You wanted to marry yourself a buccaneer so quit whining about the way it goes already.”
She looked stunned. Planting her hands on her hips, she straightened her shoulders as she said, “Did you even bother to read the next line of the letter?”
I didn’t, and I suddenly felt like a horse’s arse.
Before I could muster a redeeming response she assumed reign over my pause. “Well then you have no idea what you’re talking about. You should just stop running your drunken ol’ mouth and get back to the life you live.”
“The life I live?” Thinking back on how quickly she had changed my plans, and my mood, I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Ha! That life no longer exists. Shit, I can’t even go to port without getting my nerves all stirred up in your frantic frenzy. And begad, Charlie, even sex has consequences now.” I pointed towards Kathleen’s round belly.
Charlie’s expression twisted with a mix of hurt and infuriation. “Oh, well excuse me, Sterling. I had no idea my feelings would cause you so much grief. Perhaps you would be better off getting your sexual thrills with those hard-hearted whores who can’t hinder your freedom with their feelings, thoughts, or consequences.”
She tried to storm off, but I grabbed her arm. Of course, she started slapping my hand off her.
Not wanting any of the few remaining crewmen to hear or see her drunk arse making a fool of me, I backed her against the mast and held her stiff by the shoulders as I whispered, “Belay that nonsense spewing out of your mouth. Those whores don’t mean a damn thing to me. And you should damn well know by now that you are my one and only.”
“Should I?” She shook loose of my hold on her. “Because your current behavior makes me think that you regret committing to me and I refuse to be a burden to you.” Attempting to walk away from me, she snipped, “I’ll just get out of your way. Have fun with your rum, and gold, and lust.”
I blocked her path. “You’re not going anywhere.”
She pointed her finger at my chest. “Don’t you dare put those filthy pirate hands on me. I will fight you.”
Feeling my temper boiling, I tugged on my hair as I growled, “Filthy pirate hands? Holy rotten damnation of hell. How can you be so infuriating? I’ve been stabbed, punched, and burned, but nothing has ever ripped me to shreds like some of the things you say.” I yanked at my coat and slapped at all my scars.
During my crazed dramatics, she easily got around me. It angered me to see her stomping off, but the moment she called for Lawrence to wait for her in the boat, all hell broke loose in my soul.
Seeing red and feeling fire, I grabbed her around the waist and threw her over my shoulder. Screaming in horror, she punched my back and kicked her legs around under my arm as I stormed toward the gangway.
Gathering enough sense to think of my gold, I yelled to Oliver, “Watch my loot like it’s your own, Langston.”
Climbing down to the boat, where Lawrence, Kathleen, Kasey and Marin sat, I heard Marty threaten to attack me for manhandling Charlie. Though I half expected one of her knives to land in my back, Faron kept her away from me just fine.
As soon as my feet hit the floor of the longboat, Charlie twisted her hand in my hair and pulled on it with all her might. The pain of the yank filled me with the urge to throw her across the boat. Resisting my urge, I slammed her down on my lap.
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nbsp; Trying to fight her way out of my grip, she screamed, “Let go of me, you monstrous boar!”
Lawrence hollered, “Good heavens, Sterling. Get your filthy hands off of her.”
Holding Charlie still with one hand, I pointed at everyone in the boat with the other. “Shut your mouths. She’s drunk and I’m angry and all you need to worry about is rowing the damn boat.”
As they began to row, Charlie broke loose from my grip and slapped me across the face! I don’t know if she fell or if I threw her, but after her wiry body landed on the bench across from me, I stood over her and pointed at her face. “Don’t you ever hit me again, strumpet. I’ll tie your arse up if you think to try.”
She looked like she was going to lunge back at me so I reached for the rope in my duffle.
Kasey put his arm in front of her and yelled at me, “Back off, Bentley! You aren’t tying her up, or touching her again until you calm down.”
“I’ll do whatever I want with her, and you’d better stand down or I’ll tie you up, too.”
Kasey stood up to face me, flexed and ready to fight.
Lawrence lunged and put himself between us. “Nobody will be fighting in this tiny boat!”
Charlie was cursing about all the hell I had caused, Kathleen was crying into her hands, and Marin the Marooner was laughing uncontrollably. Amidst the outlandish outbursts, the boat hit the waves. All of our crazy sounds blended into one harmonized woe as the surge sucked up our boat and tipped it over.
The surprising dunk in the water instantly snapped me out of my animal rage. Knowing Charlie still couldn’t swim that well, I pulled her out of the current. Throwing her over my shoulder, I carried her out of the waves. Though she still sounded angry her voice was much calmer as she spit out water. “I can’t believe you. You blundering ol’ lout. I did not marry you so you could drag me around at your favor.”
I did feel like a blundering ol’ lout, so I grunted like one.
She wasn’t at all amused.
Tarnished Persuasion (Justified Treason, Book 2): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories Page 24