Chapter 10: The Captain's Woman

Merrick leaned against the main deck railing, allowing the warm night breeze to soothe both his temper and the unfamiliar feelings stirring within him. With his belly full and a shot of rum to top it off, he'd thought he could easily forget the infuriating girl that resided in his cabin and focus on more important things. But visions of her kept floating into his mindthe way her curves filled out the green silk dress she wore, the golden curls that cascaded over her shoulder, her full pink lips always in a pout, and those soft blue eyes that could turn to ice in a flash.

He had not had a woman grace his cabin for a long time, and never a true lady. What was he to do with her until he could get her safely to Port Royal? She presented a challenge indeed. With each passing day, as her health improved, she became more beautiful. How was he going to keep his crew from such a lovely treasure? He sighed, shaking his head. It wasn't only the crew he didn't trust, but himself as well.

Not that he was the vile rogue he once had been. Two years ago, he had given his life to Christthe best decision he had ever made. Now, he had purpose and meaning, a relationship with the God of the universe who loved him, and more joy and peace than he'd thought possible. Yet his past often crept up to haunt him.

It was one thing for God to fish him out of the mud he had been wallowing in for so many years, and quite another to complete the long and painful task of cleaning himof turning a heart blackened by selfishness, greed, and evil into one that was pure. He often wondered if any progress had been made at all or whether he was just as bad a student in God's school as he had been at Oxford.

There were moments, of course, when he surprised himself, when he would commit an unselfish act or be repulsed by some activity he previously enjoyed. But now this delicate flower was within his grasp and free for his taking. He had not thus far been tested with so delicious a temptation as Charlisse.

Women had always been a weakness of his, especially the beautiful ones. They had always been mere playthingsexisting solely for his enjoyment. He'd certainly never been hard pressed to find a willing companion. But now, he had vowed to the Lord to be pure until he marrieda relatively easy promise to keep … up to this point. How quickly his resolve had changed.

There was more to this lady than her exquisite beautysomething that roused more than his physical passion. She was courageous. Not many would have dared to hold a pistol so blazingly at him, man or woman. He chuckled, remembering her expression when he snatched it so easily from her grasp. She had spirit and strength. He admired that.

Merrick sighed and gazed at the moon sitting above the horizon, waning just like his resolve. Oh, Lord, he silently prayed. You said in your word, you would never leave me nor forsake me, that you give strength to the weak. I trust you in this. Please give me the strength to become the man you want me to be.

The sea plunged and bucked in the night like the wild passions raging within him, but the stars above were clear and bright reflecting the Lord's truth and love. He sensed God's voice saying, I understand what you're going through, and I will guide you, I will be with you. Merrick stared at the expanse of sea before him that he would have to cross hand in hand with temptation. He hoped the Lord's strength would be with himfor he knew his own strength would not be enough.

A circle of light, muted in a pleasant blend of colors, danced back and forth across Charlisse's eyes, keeping rhythm with the rolling of the ship. Under closed lids, she examined the floating glow with curious regard as she slowly regained consciousness. A few minutes passed before she remembered where she was.

Bolting upright in bed, she glanced around the cabin. Captain Merrick sat at his desk, reading the Bible, his head bowed in deep thoughtor was it prayer?

After a moment, he slowly closed the holy book. "Sleep well?"

"How long have you been in here?" she demanded, furious at herself for sleeping so soundly.

"All night," he replied, getting up from the desk.

Where was the usual smirk? He seemed to be in a somber mood this morning. Or perhaps he was just tired.

Merrick picked up a pile of blankets from the floor next to his desk and placed them on his chair.

"You slept in here with me?"

His brows raised. "I did. And I assure you, milady, it was in your best interest."

"I beg your pardon! What of my reputation?"

Merrick gave her a sideways glance and strapped on his knife belt and baldric. Slinging his brace of pistols around his neck, he replied, "My sincere apologies, milady, but my interest lies more in your safety than your reputation, which at the present time, we have yet to determine."

Fully armed, he stared at her, a wildness in his eyes that reaffirmed Charlisse's fear of just how dangerous this man truly was.

"I'll see about some food to break your fast." He slipped on his hat, tipped it at her, and left.

She fell back on the soft bed, her blood boiling, her heart racing. Who was this man? Gentleman or scoundrel? His mannerisms and the way he had treated her thus far revealed honor. But the way he looked at her with those dark, sensual eyes implied he was nothing more than what he appeared to bea pirate, a thief, and a villain. She wondered how long before they reached Port Royal and she could be free from his irksome company.

All she could hope for was to thwart any advances he made and remain as obstinate and undesirable as possible until she arrived safely at Port Royal.

Port Royal. Perhaps her father was there now, waiting for her. Had he received the missive she'd sent announcing her arrival? Had he received any of her correspondences from the past twelve years? No reply had ever comenone that she knew about. But then any mail she received was first inspected by her uncle, whose hatred for her father was exceeded only by his hatred for her motherhis own sister.

Her mother's death twelve years ago marked the end of Charlisse's childhood and the hopes and dreams that went with it. Charlisse's mother had died of a broken heart, the product of years of endless grieving for the loss of the man she loved and the shattered hopes of promises left unfulfilled. Yet from the stories her mother had told her, Charlisse knew her father had loved them both. When her mother, Helena, had told him she was with child, she'd said he'd been so overcome with joy that he'd stayed up all night, holding her in his arms and singing. The next day he'd gone through the town and handed out gifts to everyone in celebration of becoming a father. How could a man like that have abandoned them? Charlisse would not believe it.

Port Royal was the address of her mother's last post from her father. And although it seemed a foolish girl's dream to find him, Charlisse would fight to fulfill that dream at all costs.

The morning hours dragged on. Charlisse paced the small cabin until she thought she would go crazy. With her health nearly restored and her nerves on end, she felt like a little ship mouse caught in a trapa deadly trapone in which her captors could descend upon at any moment. The ship bucked and swayed and she tripped over the deck more than once. The constant creak and groan of the wood only added to her irritation, along with the heat and humidity that increased by the minute. Perspiration slid down her neck. She tried fanning herself with her hand. She needed air. When would they arrive at Port Royal? She couldn't stand the waitingthe endless waiting for whatever plan these pirates had for her.

When Sloane arrived with lunch, she begged him to ask the captain to allow her to come on deck for a short while. He left shaking his head, telling her not to get her hopes up, but surprisingly, when the pirate returned, he had a smile on his face.

"Cap'n says it be all right fer jist a few minutes, but I got to escort ye."

"I suppose he was none too happy about it," Charlisse said.

"That be true, miss." He led her down the companionway and up the stairs to the main deck.

The Caribbean breeze, although warm and humid, splashed across her face and neck like a winter chill. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes as it filtered down her dress and caressed her moist skin. It smelled of salt and fish and a hint of sweet tropical flowers.

If she allowed herself to dream, she could imagine for a momenta precious, fleeting momentthat she was safely aboard her father's merchant ship, that she had found him and he loved her.

But when she opened her eyes, she saw only the leering gaze of a few pirates, working in the shrouds, who had stopped what they were doing to stare at her.

"Back to work, you jackals," bellowed a deep voice from above her.

Grumbling, the pirates returned to their duties. Charlisse found Merrick standing gallantly on the quarterdeck, hands on his hips, face like stone, shirt and hair blowing in the wind. Their gazes locked for a moment before he turned away. She had meant to give him a nod of appreciation for allowing her on deck, but his fierce demeanor dissuaded her.

"What puts the captain in such a foul mood?" she asked Sloane as they approached the railing.

"Naw, miss, he's not in a foul mood." He looked down, frowning. "He jist gets a bit tough now an' then. The nature o' his command, ye know."

"Or his personality."

"Naw, miss, ye be misjudgin' him, methinks."

Charlisse examined Sloane's weathered face. His eyes squinted in the bright sunlight, but she could find no insincerity in them. Burly and stout, he reminded Charlisse of Captain Hathaway. Scratching his coarse gray beard, he pointed to something out in the water.

"Looky there, miss."

She followed his gaze to a group of large gray-and-white creatures leaping in the waves only a few yards from the ship.

"Oh, how wonderful." She leaned farther over the rail for a better look. "Are they dolphins? I've never seen them before."

"Aye, miss. Beautiful animals they be, an' friendly too."

The dolphins skipped in and out of the water, keeping pace with the ship. "What are they doing?"

"I don't knows much about 'em, miss, but I'd say they was escortin' us to Port Royal, wouldn't ye?"

Charlisse chuckled. "Yes, it does seem so." It felt good to laugh. Remarkably good. Yet odd in the midst of such perilous circumstances.

She glanced over the endless sea. No land was in sight, just the vast, blue ocean, calm and deep, extending as far as she could see, its waves twinkling in the sunlight. Small, dark clouds gathered on the eastern horizon. The thought of another storm sent a spike of unease through her.

Movement drew her attention behind her where a group of pirates loitered by the foredeck ladder, passing a bottle. Rum, no doubt. Others sat on barrels playing cards, while two men mopped the deck. All were armed with swords, knives, and pistols. Most were youngunder thirty, she'd guessand they looked at her as if they hadn't seen a woman in a lifetime. She shivered.

One man, who leaned arrogantly against the railing across the deck, kept staring her way. When their eyes met, his mouth curved in a smile. He took off his hat and bowed. Charlisse quickly spun to face the sea.

"Don't be worryin' about none o' them, miss," Sloane said. "They's under strict orders by the cap'n to not be touchin' ye."

"Is that so?" Charlisse felt her stomach clench but offered Sloane a half-smile. "How does he manage that?"

"By claimin' ye fer hisself, miss."

Her lips tightened. "Am I mere property to be claimed on some pirate's whim?" Her face heated. The outright audacity. She belonged to no mannot anymoreand never would again.

Sloane glanced at Merrick up on the quarterdeck, where he stood examining a chart that was lain out before him. "Well, miss, he tells them ye are his, if ye know what I mean. They know better than to touch the cap'n's woman." He gave her a sly look.

Something hard in her began to soften. The sensation felt both awkward and vulnerable. She didn't like it. As if reading her thoughts, Sloane added, "Don't ye worry, miss. The cap'n's will be stronger than most."

The statement brought her little comfort. As if sensing her dismay, the clouds blackened overhead, swarming over the ship like vultures, obscuring the sunlight, and riding on a wind that swept Charlisse's hair behind her. The dolphins left, taking their playful mood with them. Perhaps it was an omen of bad things to come. Perhaps she should learn all she could about this man who held her captive.

"Tell me more about the captain, Sloane."

He grinned. "With smilin' pleasure, miss, ye see"

"May I interrupt?" The voice was dark and silky.

Charlisse turned to see the pirate who had bowed to her so courteously from across the deck. His face was as smooth as his voice, and his smile nearly as charming as his manner. He wore brown knee breeches and silk stockings, a shirt trimmed in lace under a doublet of violet taffeta. His dark brown hair fell to his shoulders in a fashionable style. Young, tall, and well-built, he stood with a confidence Charlisse found strangely reassuring.

Sloane frowned and did not make the expected introduction.

The pirate took off his hat and bowed. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced, milady. I'm Kent Frederick Carlton."

"How do you do, Mr. Carlton." Charlisse nodded, surprised to find so eloquent a man on board a pirate ship.

"And you are …?" He held out his hand.

She offered him hers. "Charlisse Bristol."

His lips touched her fingers and lingered there too long. "I trust you have been treated well thus far, milady." He shifted his eyes, nodding behind him where Merrick stood. A look of apprehension crossed his gaze.

Sloane cleared his throat.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose." Charlisse swerved her gaze to Merrick, then back to Kent. "How kind of you to inquire." She smiled. Hope flickered within her. Perhaps she had found an ally on board this ship of miscreants.

Stepping closer, Kent leaned toward her. A heated wave flowed through her as she stared into his dark brown eyes. "If you are in need of anything, please call upon me." He winked, and Charlisse's breath quickened.

"Ah, by thunder." Sloane snorted. "That'll do it, Master Kent." He stepped between them.

"I was merely being polite." He donned his hat, still smiling. "Surely, I'm allowed to speak to the lady."

Sloane stood his ground, his right hand inching toward his cutlass. "Cap'n's orders. No one's to be botherin' her."

Kent's gaze shifted to Charlisse. "Was I bothering you, miss?"

She hesitated, flustered by her confusing emotions. "Not at all."

A movement behind him caught her attention. Kent turned as Merrick descended the quarterdeck ladder, anger lining his expression. For a moment, the dashing pirate paused, his lips twitching beneath his thin mustache. Then he stepped back.

"Until later, milady." He bowed once again and left, nearly bumping into Merrick. The two men's gazes locked for several seconds before they parted.

"Take her below," the captain ordered Sloane, not once glancing toward Charlisse, before he leapt back onto the quarterdeck.

Down in the cabin, Charlisse questioned Sloane about Kent.

"He be the first mate. Good sailor. Better at swordplay than any I seen in a while. I'm glad he didn't draw his sword." He grinned at her, and then added in a capricious voice, "Bit of a jackanapes, if ye asks me."

"I thought he was rather charming."

Sloane wrinkled his brow. "Looks can be deceivin', miss." He headed for the door. "Ye jist be stayin' put."

A gust of wind whipped up his charts, and Merrick glanced at the approaching stormjust a summer squall, nothing to worry about. Rolling up the parchment, he issued an order to furl the topsails.

Merrick knew it was a bad idea to allow the girl on deck. It was a bad idea to have a woman on board in the first place. She was a distraction that would only cause dissension among the men. He recalled the sight of her leaning on the rail, her waist-length golden curls blowing in the wind, the sound of her feminine, childlike laugher as she watched the dolphins. He could hardly keep his eyes off her. How could he captain a ship and keep his men in line with such beauty flashing before their eyes like a sparkling diamond within reach … yet untouchable?

Kent. The boy reminded him of himself not long agohotheaded, lecherous, and arrogant. If anyone was a threat on this ship, if anyone would dare challenge Merrick's authority, it was Master Kent. He knew this, because Merrick had done precisely that, nigh three years ago, on another ship, to his own captain.