by Diana Layne
Table of Contents
Pirate’s Proposal
Copyright
Praise for Diana Layne
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
A word about the author...
Thank you for purchasing this Wild Rose Press publication.
Pirate’s Proposal
Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll
by
Diana Layne
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Pirate’s Proposal: Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll
COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Diana Layne
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Tina Lynn Stout
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First English Tea Rose Edition, 2012
Published in the United States of America
Praise for Diana Layne,
a Golden Heart® Finalist
“[PIRATE’S PROPOSAL] is a swashbuckling page-turner with not one but two dashing pirates, a search for treasure, and a doll imbued with a Gypsy curse. Hold on tight as the story begins, because you’re in for the ride of your life.”
~Sharon Sala,
New York Times bestselling author
Dedication
The list is long for a first sale, but
the journey would have been much harder
without the support of terrific people in my life.
To my six children:
Thanks for putting up with the craziness of a writer and all that entails. I love you all.
To Beverly and Theresa, the sisters I never had: You’ve stuck with me, believed in me,
and you have my love and eternal gratitude.
To Barb, my dear friend and motivator:
You have made the journey so much more fun.
To Karen: May we always have
the courage to do what it takes.
To Hank, my cheerleader and research resource:
Thanks, kid.
To Cheri: Thanks for taking the time
to read and give me your opinion.
And, last, to Giacomo: here’s to creating illusions.
Chapter 1
Early Summer 1719, the Bahamas
Captain Gina Santini needed a man, and she’d have him before the night became dawn. Not just any man. Nay, the one she needed had wavy hair the color of bourbon, a well-trimmed goatee, and a jagged scar on his left cheek, according to her first mate, who was dogging at her feet like a cur protecting his moldy scrap of food. Long used to the stench of unwashed bodies, she barely took notice of the smells as she pushed her way into the pirate haven called The Boarshead. Pausing inside the door, she squinted through the smoke from cheaply made candles and burning cheroots, and searched for her victim.
“Do you see him?” she asked Mickey, who puffed to a stop behind her.
There. In the corner. She spied a tousled head of burnished-colored hair. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of her sword, itching to pull the long blade and hold it at the dirty thief’s throat.
“I believe he is there, no?” Without waiting for an answer, she pushed forward through the crowded tables full of men, ripe with the smell of sweat and sea, and heavily-perfumed wenches who served them.
“Aye, that looks to be him,” Mickey confirmed, still at her heels. “Though I can’t say for certain ’til we’re closer.”
The man sat alone in the corner, his back to the wall, a tankard of ale wrapped in his hand. He took his time turning his gaze up to her as she marched to a stop inches from the edge of his table. Surprisingly, a slow grin spread over his face. Just the tip of his scar poked from the top of his beard—which, unlike what Mickey had said, was full and bushy and not the neatly trimmed goatee she expected. The fact he’d not yet shaved told her he’d likely made port just before her and had not yet had a chance to see to himself.
His ship, small and fast, should have handily beaten hers, but she’d pushed her large frigate hard, running full sails even through a gale. Her men had thought she was possessed, but none dared argue, knowing she’d avenge the wrong done to them.
The scar barely took her notice, distracted as she was by how his white teeth contrasted with his sun-darkened face. She would have thought him older, yet an older pirate was more likely to have dark-stained teeth from a fondness of tobacco and hard liquor. Everything about this plunderer bespoke a man in his prime.
“Captain Santini,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Care to join me?”
“Join ye?” Mickey barked before she could answer. “Ye scurvy cur, how could ye ask such a thing?”
“Ah, Mickey,” the captain greeted. “Nice to see you.”
Mickey had met the captain previously in port, and had therefore been useful in locating the man. But now he was found, she didn’t want Mickey interfering with her rights as a captain.
“Thank you, Mickey. You can go enjoy a pint now.”
He frowned but responded with a respectful, “Aye, Captain,” before heading to the bar.
Warily, she turned back to the captain and studied him, wondering how he knew her name. One pirate often looked like the other, sunburned and scruffy, but she was certain they’d never met. She would have remembered that pretty smile, hidden though it was behind those overgrown whiskers.
No matter. She had business at hand.
Flattening her palms on the table, she bent low and said through tight lips, “That was my haul you stole, and I want it back.”
His smile didn’t waver. Was he going to try to charm his way out of his...his skullduggery? If so, she’d have to inform Captain Charles the Charmer that his rumored talents would not work on her.
He leaned forward on his elbows and brought his face close to hers. She resisted the inclination to back away.
“I can never resist an easy catch,” he said in an accent that bore traces of Britain.
Her skin quivered, her nostrils flared. Yet as she met his bold stare, she sucked in a breath. She thought she saw something there she recognized. Did she know him after all? She searched her memory. To her knowledge, she’d never met him.
She recovered from the moment and continued, “Easy for you to say. The Gypsy Doll had already stopped that merchant ship.”
“Aye, your gun-laden frigate does have its uses. Being fast is not one.”
“The advantage will be mine when I blow your dinky little sloop out of the water.”
“Captain! Are you insulting the size...of my ship?”
The obvious sexual overtone felt like a physical caress. It somehow felt familiar. Provocative. She gave herself a mental shake. “It’s not the size of your...ship that’s in question. You stole what was mine.”
Her insides burned. His actions had humiliated her, angered her men. As a female captain it was hard enough to maintain control. Only her promise for justice had brought an uneasy truce and avoided a possible mutiny.
“I but stole what you planned to steal, not what you had stolen.”
“That ship was mine.” Sh
e pounded a fist on the wooden table. “My men had our grappling hooks on her.”
And they would take back what he stole if he would not cooperate. Already she had men watching his ship, prepared to stop him if he tried to offload and sell the goods.
Unaffected by her outburst, he fingered her dark hair, so long it brushed the tabletop. “But alas, you were too slow, my Italian beauty.”
Her scalp tingled from the contact. Deliberately, she ignored the sensual pull. She tugged her hair from his grasp and straightened to her full height, her hand once again on the hilt of her sword. Anger, swift and raging as a sea squall, swept through her. That was her booty, damn it. She needed the money. Otherwise how would her father survive?
She choked back her wrath. “So you will not do the thing that is right and give me back the spoils?”
“Surely you do not believe the falsehood that there is honor among thieves?”
Humiliation warred with her indignation and won. She made her expression hard when she promised, “Since you do not believe in honor, I will have no qualms about blowing your ship out of the water.” She spun to leave, but his hand snaked out quickly and grabbed her arm, bringing her to a sudden stop.
With her free hand, she had already pulled a knife out of her belt, ready to stab him, when he spoke.
“Hang on, love,” he said, amusement evident in his voice. “Careful with that little sticker. You might poke a hole in me.”
“That’s the idea.”
“Don’t be running away so fast now.”
His implication she was a coward pricked at her already punctured pride. Forcing that hard-to-swallow lump past her throat, she faced him, too conscious of his large hand wrapped around her wrist, inexplicably wondering how such a hand would feel on other parts of her body. And then wondering why she’d have such a damning thought. She’d dealt with male captains for years now, and none had this effect on her. What was it about this captain and his familiarity?
“You, signore, are either very brave or very foolish.”
“Stay and find out,” he challenged.
She tugged her wrist away, relieved he let it go. It truly would have been a shame to slice such a capable hand off his arm.
“You will not goad me into staying. I’m going to prepare my men to blow up your ship.”
To her surprise, he laughed.
“You think I jest?”
“You can’t start a fight here in a safe harbor,” he said, still chuckling.
He was right, and the knowledge made him cocky.
She pushed words out between clenched teeth. “I’ll wait until you leave, then.”
Her threat did little to remove his smile. “Don’t be so hasty. I’m willing to discuss business with you.”
“You’ll return my property?”
The question brought the slightest reaction from him, so little she might have imagined it.
“Sit, sit,” he offered. She ignored him, and he shrugged and continued, “I followed you, you know. I stole your booty for a reason.”
“Do you have a death wish? What possible reason—”
“To get your attention.”
The stupidity of his remark robbed her speech as surely as his men had stolen her haul. At her silence, he said, “Come, have a seat, share a pint with me, and I’ll explain.”
“I see nothing to explain such an irrational claim.”
“I have your attention, don’t I?”
She sank into the chair and conceded his point with a nod. “An odd way to bring you to my notice.”
He motioned to a tavern wench, who threw Gina a sullen look. Obviously the maid saw the money she’d hoped to make off the captain later that evening disappearing now that Gina was here.
Charles ordered and then tipped the wench enough to bring a smile back to her face as she took his empty mug away.
“Generous,” Gina commented.
“Wanted to make sure she didn’t poison you.”
With an amused grin, he settled back in his chair and said, “I’ve heard you are hard to persuade, so I needed to do something drastic to get your attention.”
“And what is it you wish from me? Surely a man such as yourself need not go to such elaborate measures for a woman’s attention?”
A wry look crossed his face. “I’m not after your womanly attention. I’m interested in a deal of another kind.”
Amazingly, his remark bristled her back. Briefly, she wondered how she must look to him with her britches and sword. Would he like her if she were the kind of woman a seafaring man could come home to at the end of a long voyage? She blinked at the bizarre thought, and brought her attention back to the conversation. “What sort of deal?”
“Your services.”
“Signore, you are trying to insult my intelligence. My patience is wearing thin,” she warned.
“I want you and me to join forces and go after a common target.”
“For?”
“Profit, of course.”
Money to be made sounded attractive. “Go on...”
“The Spanish are moving a great shipment of gold to pay their troops in this War of Alliances they are about to lose.”
“Ah, the Spaniards. Always fighting with someone.”
“This time, King Philip V is trying to claim the throne of Italy.”
“Me”—she shrugged—“I have not been to Italy since I was a little girl. Italy, Spain, England, France, always someone fighting.”
“And when they do, there is gold for us pirates. More than my ‘dinky little sloop’ can carry.”
“So you have use for a large, well-armed frigate?” A twinge of seduction at the possible opportunity pulled the question from her mouth.
Excitement glimmered in his chocolate-colored eyes. “Most definitely.”
She frowned. “The Spaniards, they will be well-armed.”
“And all those cannon aboard your ship will be useful for something other than blowing my ship out of the water.” His smile was so mesmerizing it drew a reluctant smile from her. No wonder he was called Charles the Charming.
Still, she didn’t want him to think he had the upper hand, and there were yet unanswered questions. “I’m thinking I would take greater pleasure in blasting your ship, given the circumstances.”
He held his hands wide, making him look so innocent. “And lose the opportunity to take such a haul of gold?”
The wench brought the ale just then, but Gina was reluctant to take a drink. Many an unsuspecting man had been drugged through his drink and found himself on a ship bound for Shanghai.
She pushed the mug to one side and leaned forward on her elbows. “ ’Tis a tempting offer, I will admit. But why me?”
“Why not?”
Suspicion niggled at her. “Surely you have other cronies willing to help?”
“You’re jesting, love. What pirate is really trustworthy?”
“Exactly. Why then should I trust you? And furthermore, why are you willing to trust me?”
“There’s an element of danger in each of our ventures. I’m already taking a risk.” When she would have spoken, he cut her off. “Why am I willing to gamble on you, specifically?” He took a drink, not having the same aversion to his ale. “I know you need the money more than most.”
She stiffened. “What makes you think such a thing?”
Something flickered in his dark eyes. “What pirate hasn’t heard the tale of your father’s illness and how you left school to take over the family business, so to speak.”
“There is nothing so special about what I did. Any child would have done the same.”
He shrugged. “Doubtful. Pirate children are no more loyal than pirates themselves. Hell, most pirates don’t even know their offspring.”
That was true. Not many captains took their families on their ships with them. That her father was once a privateer, so that what he did was technically legal, didn’t make it any less unusual that he sailed with his wife and daughter.
“Most pirates who get sick or injured end up beggars and die of starvation sooner than of their disease. Your father is a lucky man to have a daughter brave and strong enough to give up her dreams of a home and family.”
“I have no dreams of home and family. The sea is all I know.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she wondered why she revealed so much to him.
“Aye, you toddled your first steps on the deck of the Gypsy Doll.”
The man seemed to know too much about her. Even his eyes bespoke knowledge and familiarity. Who was he?
“Whatever you think you know about me, I’m still a stranger to you.”
He shook his head, sighed, and took one of her hands in his. Before she could pull out of his grasp, he surprised her by saying, “Ah, Gina, you wound me.”
She blinked. She had no idea how to respond. He saved her the trouble.
“You really do not remember me?”
Frowning, she tilted her head to one side to study him. “Should I?”
“Mayhap it is all this bristly hair on my face.” He rubbed his beard. “But I was sailing hard so you would not catch me.”
She smiled, trying to picture him without the beard. “Your eyes—”
“Or maybe it’s the name,” he cut in. “Mayhap this will help. When you knew me I was called Chuck. Or Chuckie.” He grimaced.
Charles. Chuck. Chuckie.
She gasped. No! Not...
“Aye, now you remember. I will admit I’m crushed. It seems you would have remembered the lad whose bunk you once climbed into to prove your undying love.”
Heat rushed to her face, but she forced herself not to drop her gaze. If he knew about that, he had to be Chuck. The boy of whom she’d once been enamored had grown into a fine specimen of a man. When last she saw him, he barely had whiskers, and he was as skinny as he was tall.
“But where...what happened?” Not long after she’d left for school, she’d received a letter from her father. In it, he’d mentioned Chuckie had disappeared. Her father suspected his newly promoted first mate had been shanghaied. But now he was a pirate captain?
“It’s a long story, suited for neither the place nor the night. Right now I have an offer for you.”