Once Upon a Pirate: Sixteen Swashbuckling Historical Romances

by Merry Farmer

  “No. No!” Elisabeth was seized by blind terror. Panic stung her into motion. She shook off Will’s arm and lunged for the open cabin door. Once outside, she sprinted along the companionway and up the steps, only to be confronted by the massive hulk of the second-in-command as he responded to Paulette’s shout of alarm.

  Elisabeth came to a shuddering halt, tried to spin on her heel, but her feet became entangled in her skirt. She lost her balance and tumbled headlong back down the stairs to land in a crumpled heap at the feet of her pursuers. Her head hit the boards with a sickening thud, and her world went dark.

  Chapter 9

  Will regarded the unconscious woman in his bed with a gnawing sense of déjà vu. She looked so pale, so small, and so very lost.

  Elisabeth Chirac, wife to the mayor of New Orleans, no less. Could it be true?

  Paulette had no reason to lie, and he had never known his half-sister to be untruthful. They were not especially close, separated by a twelve-year age difference, distance, not to mention the fact that he had not seen her for five years or more. Still, they had always liked one another well enough, and she had been loyal to him when he needed her help.

  He had found himself in the unfortunate situation of being incarcerated in the prison in New Orleans, convicted of piracy and treason, and sentenced to be hanged. Paulette had taken a message to André Hêrbert, Governor of Louisiana in Baton Rouge, an old friend of Will’s father. The governor had exercised his influence and commuted Will’s sentence to imprisonment with hard labour. Will had managed to escape the guards a few months later and had considered it prudent not to return to New Orleans since.

  No, Paulette had never done him a disservice in the past, and he at least owed her the courtesy of believing her account of events, as far as it went. There had to be more, though, some explanation of why Ruby—no, Elisabeth—would act in such a manner. He did not believe her capable of deliberate malice or spite, so what might have moved her to such actions?

  The name Chirac was a familiar one. The commander of the garrison when he had been imprisoned in New Orleans had been named Chirac—Giles Chirac if Will’s memory did not deceive him. He had been most adamant that Will should dangle from a noose for his crimes, and seriously vexed when his plans were thwarted. Not to be completely outdone, Chirac had made it his business to ensure that Will was assigned the most backbreaking work available, that of quarrying stone to feed the endless appetite for construction in New Orleans. Was it possible that the man had entered politics and somehow managed to get himself installed as the mayor of the city? Chirac was, in Will’s estimation, vindictive, pompous, arrogant, and more than a little dim. He could not imagine a less suitable candidate for mayor, but without doubt, stranger things had happened.

  Certainly, there was no love lost between Will Falconer and Giles Chirac, but Will saw no good reason to extend his antipathy to the man’s wife. He would wait for her to regain consciousness and take matters from there.

  It had been almost twelve hours since she’d fallen and hit her head, and she had been deeply unconscious since. Will had insisted upon bringing her back to the Falcon, and Old Sawbones had been summoned. The surgeon declared no further bones broken and advised the captain to wait for her to come round.

  Raven and Paulette had protested at his decision, but in the end had to settle for Will’s promise that he would summon them as soon as there was any change. The Raven’s Claw was even now plying a parallel course to theirs, heading back to Santa Natalia to drop off the freed slaves.

  He was determined to protect Elisabeth, as he was trying to think of her, from Paulette’s sharp tongue, but as his sister claimed to have knowledge of Elisabeth’s former existence, she might be useful in piecing events together. It was a risk worth taking.

  Will did not have much longer to wait. He was at his desk studying a chart of the Gulf of Mexico when he sensed movement behind him. He turned to find himself the subject of Elisabeth’s bright-green gaze.

  “Welcome back,” he said, his voice soft. “How are you feeling?”

  She did not answer. Her brow crinkled in concentration, and she closed her eyes again.

  Will moved to sit on the edge of the bunk. “Elisabeth? Can you hear me?”

  She opened her eyes and regarded him warily. A small nod was her only other response.

  “Do you remember what happened?”

  She frowned again, then her eyes widened in apparent fear. “Th-there was an argument,” she murmured. “Shouting. He said hateful things…”

  Will grinned. “Ah, yes, Raven does have a colourful turn of phrase. That little misunderstanding is cleared up now, though. There is no reason to be concerned.”

  “Who is Raven?”

  “A pirate captain. You met him yesterday.”

  “Did I? I cannot remember…” Again, she screwed up her face with the effort of trying to recall the details. “Why would I be meeting a pirate captain? Where am I? I think I know you, but…”

  “I am Will. Will Falconer. You are on board my vessel, the Falcon.”

  “I…oh.” She shook her head as though attempting to clear her thoughts. “Where…where is my husband? Is he here?”

  Will eyed her with interest. “He is not on board,” he answered carefully. “Tell me, can you remember the name of your husband?”

  “Of course I remember. He is Giles. Giles Chirac. He…he is the mayor…”

  So, Paulette had been correct on that score.

  “We were arguing,” she went on. “Giles has done something terrible, something wicked. I… I cannot recall what it was, but I was incensed. I have never felt rage like it.” She was struggling to sit up in the bunk.

  Will assisted her and shoved a pillow behind her shoulders.

  Elisabeth continued with her halting tale. “I confronted Giles, in my father’s study. He was angry, and so was I.” She raised her hand to her brow, then stared at it. “Why is my hand bandaged?”

  “You broke it. Our surgeon splinted it for you. Tell me, what happened in your father’s study? What did your husband do to make you so angry?”

  “I do not know.” She was crying now, huge, gulping sobs. “I can only remember snippets, just images. It is all fragmented, confused, nothing makes sense.” She paused to look about herself, taking in the cabin. “How did I come to be here, on a ship? I… I hate ships.”

  Will smiled. “That is not the impression I had, but let us not worry about that now. You might remember more, as time goes on.” He wrapped his arms around her, and despite her claim not to know him, she did not resist the intimacy. At some level, she clearly did remember him and trusted him, and that would do for the time being.

  Her weeping calmed, and he persuaded her to lay down again. “Get some more sleep,” he advised. “We will talk again when you wake up and get to the bottom of what has happened, I promise.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes. In moments, her breathing deepened as she sank into a deep sleep.

  Will stood and looked down at her, hoping he had not made a promise he could not keep. He strode to the door of the cabin and called for Velvet.

  “Send my compliments to the Raven and inform him that Elisabeth has regained consciousness. She is sleeping again now, but it would be helpful if he and my sister could be here when she wakes up. Oh, and send Old Sawbones down here.”

  There were voices. Low, deep, murmuring quietly to one another. She recognised one, a male, but was less certain of the others. Another man, certainly, and a woman. And they were talking about her!

  “She confirmed that she is married to Giles Chirac, and that they had one hell of a row over something. She cannot recall what the cause of the argument was.”

  “I told you,” the female voice chimed in. “She is the mayor’s wife, and I’m not surprised that they were arguing. The man is vile. Perhaps she finally woke up and recognised that fact.”

  “You are telling us that she lost her memory but has now regained it? At least in
part?” This from the other man, the one whose voice she did not recognise.

  “Yes, it seems to be so. Our ship’s surgeon says that if her original memory loss was caused by a blow to the head, then perhaps the second blow she sustained when she fell down the steps on the Claw somehow reversed the amnesia. He has heard of such cases.”

  “It sounds a tad convenient to me. Still, you say you rescued her from a slave ship? That she had been badly beaten?”

  “That is correct.”

  “So, how does the wife of the mayor of New Orleans come to be in the hands of slave traders?”

  An excellent question.

  Elisabeth lay motionless and awaited the answer.

  “I have no idea. We need her to remember more, especially about that argument with Giles Chirac. How did it end?”

  Elisabeth opened her eyes and took in who else was present in the room. There was the nice, golden-haired man who had been kind to her and who said his name was Will. The other man, Raven, she assumed, had dark hair and looked every inch the ferocious pirate Will had told her he was. Beyond him, seated in the only chair in the cabin and wearing a pretty dress made of yellow muslin, sat a woman who Elisabeth recognised.

  “Paulette,” she breathed and pushed herself up on one elbow. All three pairs of eyes turned to regard her. “Paulette? What are you doing here? I dismissed you…”

  The woman leapt from the chair and advanced on the bed. “Yes. You lied about me, accused me of stealing from you and turned me out. I am no thief, and you knew it.”

  “I…you stole my husband.” Elisabeth was as astonished as her audience. Where did that come from?

  “That vile toad? He lusts after anything in a skirt. You think I would want to steal him? You must be mad.”

  Will laid his hand on Paulette’s arm. “Remember, I distinctly told you not to distress Elisabeth. She is unwell, and—”

  “She lied about me.”

  “Perhaps, but…”

  “She is right.” Elisabeth sat up fully and shoved her hair back from her face. “I did lie. I… I pretended to have discovered items of mine in her bedroom. It was untrue, but I dismissed her for stealing.”

  “See. It is as I said.” Paulette pointed at her accusingly. “She is a liar. She lied about me and she lied to you about who she was.”

  “Enough, Paulette.” Will came to sit beside her on the bunk. “Elisabeth, why did you really dismiss Paulette if you knew she had not stolen those things from you?”

  Elisabeth drew in a ragged sigh as memories came flooding back. She remembered that horrible day when she had witnessed the pretty upstairs maid emerging from her husband’s bedroom and had known without a doubt that the pair of them had played her for a fool. How long had it been going on? She could only guess. The humiliation swept over her afresh as she recalled the desolate sense of betrayal she had felt on that day.

  “I needed to talk to him about something, so I went to Giles’ room. I was about to knock on the door, but I heard noises from within. Voices—my husband’s voice,” she clarified. “and a woman giggling. I waited and saw him come out a few minutes later. She followed him,” Elisabeth tilted her chin to indicate Paulette, “still straightening her apron.”

  “Paulette? Is that what happened?” Will turned to regard the woman, one eyebrow lifted.

  She shrugged. “I suppose, but she had no cause to—”

  “So, you were angry?” Will was speaking to her again.

  “Yes,” Elisabeth replied. “I went to talk to Giles, tried to explain that he must be more discreet, better still, that he should be faithful to his marriage vows. He just laughed at me. I… I believed myself to be in love with him and I wanted to save my marriage. I still believed that Giles and I could be happy together, but Paulette was in the way, or so I told myself. So, I determined to put a stop to their affair myself. I was too embarrassed, too ashamed to admit what had really happened, but I needed to have a good reason to let her go, or Monsieur Laurent, our butler, would have been suspicious. So I made up the tale of stolen articles and ordered her from the house.”

  “No employment. No reference. How was I supposed to manage after that?” Paulette demanded.

  “I know. It was wrong, and I am sorry. If…if you need a reference, I would be happy to—”

  “I need nothing from you. I am no longer a household servant.” Paulette lifted her chin in defiance. “I am to stay with Raven. He loves me, and I love him.”

  “Oh. I am glad for you. Truly. I hope you can eventually forgive me for my actions.”

  “I will never—”

  “My sister is not a woman to bear a grudge,” Will interrupted. “Are you, Paulette?”

  “Your…sister?” She rubbed at her temple, vaguely remembering having heard that before somewhere. “I do not understand.”

  “Paulette is my half-sister. Her mother was housekeeper to my father after he was widowed. I imagine you can work out the rest.”

  “Oh, I see.” Elisabeth did indeed now understand. “There is no family resemblance,” she observed.

  Will laughed. “I suppose not, but still, there it is. Paulette is my little sister, and the only family I have in the world. For that reason alone, I hope that she will accept the apology offered and set aside her hostility so we can all be friends.” He lifted one eyebrow as he waited for his sister’s response.

  Paulette shrugged. “If it means so much to you. But I still want to know why she did not tell you who she really was.”

  “As do I,” Raven put in. “May I ask a question?”

  It was not entirely clear who he addressed the request to, but Will and Elisabeth both nodded. He continued. “Madame Chirac, you told us that when you dismissed Paulette, you still believed that you could make a success of your marriage. Yes?”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “That is correct.”

  “Are we to understand, then, that you no longer believe that to be possible?”

  She gazed at him and shook her head. “No. No, I do not. He is violent and…and…”

  “And what, Elisabeth,” Will prompted. “What did he do that changed your mind?”

  “He…he killed Marie Claire.” The words came out on a low whisper as the image crystallised in her mind. Vivid, in sharp, unrelenting focus, she saw again the scene that had awaited her when Monsieur Levant had asked her to accompany him upstairs. “He raped her, and he murdered her.”

  “Marie Claire?” Paulette gasped. “She is dead?”

  Elisabeth nodded. “I am sorry. You…you were friends?”

  Paulette buried her face in her hands, but not before Elisabeth saw her stricken expression. “We shared a room. She was ill that day, that day you dismissed me. She was in bed all day, and that is how I knew you were lying about finding the stolen things under my mattress. Marie Claire was in the room the entire time, and she said you were never there.”

  “I see. She…she never said anything…”

  “She would not have wanted to lose her employment as I did. We both knew you to be…less than fair in such matters.”

  Elisabeth flushed, deeply ashamed but could not fault the logic.

  “What happened to Marie Claire?” Will prompted.

  “From what I could gather when I confronted Giles, he had turned his attention to her when Paulette was no longer available. She…she put up a fight, and Giles would not take no for an answer. He denied having killed her but admitted that he had forced her and had somehow managed to silence her screams. I… I am not sure if he knew she was dead, or even if he cared. But I have no doubt that she died at his hands. I sent for the commander of the garrison so he could come and arrest Giles.”

  “Forgive me, Elisabeth, but was not Chirac formerly the captain of the garrison himself? Would the present commander not have been an associate of his?”

  Elisabeth nodded. “That is true, but Captain dePrieu had a duty to perform. I intended to remind him of that and insist that he set aside personal considerations and d
o what was needful.”

  “Is that what happened, then?” Will prompted.

  Elisabeth shook her head. “I do not remember. I cannot recall ever speaking to him. Perhaps Captain dePrieu did not come…”

  “What is the last thing you do remember, Elisabeth?” Will took her hand in his. “Take your time, just tell us as much as you can.”

  “I told him I had summoned the authorities, and he should flee if he wanted to escape. He said he was going nowhere, so I ordered him to leave my house.” She paused, the memories becoming clearer. “Yes, I recall now, he had previously said something about the mansion becoming his along with the rest of my property when we married. I had consulted the man of letters who looked after my father’s affairs and ascertained that this was not so. The house is legally entailed and must remain in my family. It was exempted from any claim Giles might have. I told him that, too, and that I never wished to see him again.”

  “What did he say? What did he do then?”

  “I… I do not recall. That is all I can remember. I was leaving the study…yes, I heard the clatter of horses outside and assumed Captain dePrieu had arrived. Then…nothing until I woke in the hold of the slave ship. The rest, you know.”

  There was silence in the cabin for a few moments.

  Raven spoke first. “We must assume that your husband attacked you, perhaps a blow to the head. While you were conveniently unconscious, they struck a deal with the slavers as a way of getting rid of you.”

  “Bastard…” Will muttered. “The murdering little weasel. He killed one woman, and he surely did not intend you to survive much longer.”

  “But why, if all this is true, did he simply not kill her there and then, in the study?” Paulette asked. “That would have been easier.”

  “Bodies are not always easy to hide, my sweet,” was the dry response from Raven. “One dead woman in the house would have been inconvenient, two disastrous.”

  “Would he have been cunning enough to work that out?” Will wondered aloud. “He had not behaved with any real intelligence up to that point.” He turned to regard Elisabeth closely. “You say you heard the arrival of Captain dePrieu and his men?”