Chapter 8: Captain Merrick

The rain soon stopped, and Charlisse spent the afternoon sitting under the palm trees, examining her captors with a mixture of interest and trepidation. Most of them busied themselves hoisting barrels, crates, and furniture into cockboats, which they then rowed out to the ship.

Back and forth they went, returning all the ship's supplies in preparation for what Charlisse assumed to be its imminent departure. She gulped and grabbed a strand of her hairstill wet from the oceantwisting it between her fingers. What will they do with me? They had fed her and nursed her back to health, but for what purpose? Would they take her with them, or leave her here to die alone?

She thought of her father. As her strength returned, her quest to find him resurfaced with renewed fervor. Yet her only hope of achieving her goal seemed to be in the hands of these pirates and their enigmatic captain.

She had never seen such men. Some walked around with sweat glistening on their bare chests; some clothed themselves in silks, taffetas, and velvet in a mismatched array that was obnoxious to her fashion sensibilities; some had long shaggy hair, while others were bald; some were thin, some stout. Most were dirty, both in appearance and in the vulgarity that proceeded from their mouths. One manthe one they called the doctorhad only one eye. Another man was missing a leg below the knee, but with the help of a cane, he moved around as well as any of the others.

The man who caught her attention, however, was the captain. She watched him stride about the beach, talking with the men, helping them load supplies into the boats. He carried himself with the easy assurance of a man of powera natural leader who had obviously earned the respect of his men. Pirate or not, he was a most handsome man. She felt drawn to him and hated herself for it. This silly attraction could only be due to insanity brought on by weeks of hunger and loneliness, coupled with a fever that had plainly eaten away half her brain. For according to his profession, he could be nothing but a scoundrel, a thief, and a rogue.

Darkness dropped its shroud over the tiny island. Though her day had not been strenuous, exhaustion weighed upon her. After a meal of dried beef and biscuits, Charlisse sank to her blankets, but found her slumber hounded by familiar nightmares that tormented her by night and haunted her by day.

Merrick lay by the fire, desperately seeking rest before dawn. The new day would bring an abundance of work and many challenges as they sailed from this island haven. The pirates had retired from their drinking unusually early. Most were already asleep. Envious of their peace, Merrick could not find a way to join them. It was the girl. He could not get her out of his mind.

In the past few days, she had blossomed before his eyes, regaining her health and beauty with each passing minute. He cursed himself for behaving the lecherous cur that afternoon. When he'd seen her standing there, dripping wet and looking so ... so ...even now his body warmed at the thoughtalluring, he'd wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms. To have slipped back into his old salacious selfif only for a momentwas discouraging. And it made him wish all the more for the moment of their departure. Then he could deposit her in some civilized port, where she would be safe, away from him, and away from his unruly crew.

Merrick sighed. There was more to this girl than just a comely face. She had a strength in her. He saw it in her eyesa courage and fortitude that could not be hidden behind her timid exterior.

He prayed silently, thanking the Lord for all his blessings and asking for strength and wisdom.

Charlisse sensed someone staring at her, even in her half-conscious stateeven in the darkness that still held the island in slumber. Thick clouds meandered across the sky, allowing choice beams of a bright moon to filter down between them. A chill ran down her spine and she sat up, peering into the blackness. The shadowy outline of the captain came into focus.

"What do you want?" She clutched the blanket to her chest, fearing the worst.

Merrick remained in the shadows, silent, examining her.

Finally he spoke, his voice calm and deep. "You were having nightmares."

What had he heard? She hid her anxiety with harshness. "And what concern is that to you?"

He shifted in the sand. "I'm wondering …" He hesitated. "What circumstances brought you to this island all alone?"

She sighed, remembering the shipwreck, the terror of her ordeal of the past month, the starvation, the loneliness, the yearning for a death that never came.

And then being captured by piratesrumored to be men without morals or decency. Now this man, their captain, what did he want? What sort of slippery charade was he playing?

"It should make no difference to you," she said.

"Why must you be so difficult, miss? It makes a great deal of difference to me, since you have put me in the rather precarious position of defending your honor."

Charlisse grabbed a lock of her hair. "And what would you know of honor, pirate?"

She sensed him smiling and it only emboldened her further. "It is neither my desire nor my request that you defend my honor, or anything else of mine. In fact, I can only assume I am your prisoner." She studied him, but he did not flinch, made no comment.

The wind picked up, and a burst of moist air blew over her, softening her mood. She reconsidered her harsh tone. Despite his chosen professionand the degradation that went with ithe had saved her life and hadn't allowed his men to ravish her.

"However, sir," she added more softly, "I am very thankful for your care."

"See, that wasn't so hard," he taunted.

"What?"

"Being courteous."

Charlisse gazed into the night, anywhere but at his handsome face. Moonlight sprinkled silvery foam on waves as they crashed ashore, the sound so familiar to her now that it was almost soothing. In the midst of the camp, the fire had nearly died down and the pirates' revelry with it, bringing an ill-suited, peaceful mood over the whole scene. Except for the dangerous man beside her.

"If you must know, I booked passage on a merchant ship from London to Port Royal," she said. "We went down in a storm, and somehow I ended up here." She thought of Captain Hathaway. "I don't know what happened to the rest of the crew."

"How long have you been here?"

"I'm not sure." She shook her head. "Four or five weeks, perhaps. I lost track of everything after a while. I thought I was going to die."

Merrick glanced at the ocean, and then over to the dark jungle beyond the beach. A sliver of moonlight escaped the clouds and lined the firm planes of his face. "You must have been horrified, a lady all alone in such a frightening place."

It was a strange thing for a pirate to say. Why would he care how she felt? He had called her a lady. She had been raised as one, to be sure, but had never really felt the part. "Who says I'm a lady?" The words were out before she realized it might be more advantageous to assume the role among these men.

The captain's eyes widened.

"You hold yourself as a lady, miss. 'Tis obvious from your speech and your mannerisms. But if you wish me not to treat you as such, I'd be happy to oblige." A ruthless smile lifted his lips.

Ignoring his barb, she let the silence hang between them, confused at his wavering moodsone minute kind, the next threatening.

"What was your business in Port Royal, if I may ask? It's unusual for a lady to be traveling alone."

"You may ask," she replied curtly. "But it's my turn to ask a question of you."

"Very well."

"What do you intend to do with me, Captain? I know who you are and what you do. I've heard the stories"

"You've heard stories about me?" He snickered. "I'm flattered."

"Not about you, specifically, Captain … Merrick, is it?"

He nodded. "At your service, milady."

"But about pirates in general."

"Well then, maybe you should tell me what I should do with you."

Charlisse searched his eyes. A sea breeze toyed with strands of his hair. It was as black as the night, as wild as the man who wore it.

Why was he being so obstinate? But what did she expect from a pirate, or from any man? Hadn't her uncle done the same thing?

His voice suddenly softened. "May I ask your name, milady?"

She hesitated, unsure. "Charlisse Bristol."

"Charlisse …" He nodded. "It has a beautiful sound to it."

A cloud passed overhead, consuming him once again in shadow, and she wondered at the sudden sense of loss she felt. No longer able to see his eyes, she looked away.

He took a step. She flinched. "Have no fear. I'm simply moving myself to a more respectable distance, for I perceive I'm not only keeping you from your sleep, but causing you some distress as well." He bowed. "Please rest. You will need it for the trip tomorrow."

"Trip? What trip?"

"We're to set sail," he announced.

"Where to?" Fear crowded in her throat as his words sank in. "I can't go on a pirate ship!"

"I'm sorry, milady, but 'tis the only ship I have, so you'll have to make do. And as far as where we are going, rest assured, I will drop you off at your port of choicePort Royal, wasn't it?as soon as possible. Your presence is as much a burden to me, as mine undoubtedly is to you."