Pirate's Daughter, Rebel Wife

Her eyes roamed the room and she noticed that the bowl and drying cloth had been removed. She must have fallen into a deep sleep, indeed, to have been unaware of the captain or Joe’s entry. How long had she slept? She needed to speak to the captain. What was his name? Her wits had indeed gone begging for her not to have asked that simple question.

She heard voices outside and looked towards the window. The shutters were wide open, allowing sunlight and a flower–scented breeze into the room, along with birdsong. She wanted to be up and doing and longed to be outside in the fresh air. Suddenly she noticed her green gown and silk shift on the chest and her face lit up. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

Her knees shook and she realised that she was still weak from her illness, but, by holding on to the bed, she managed to reach its foot and sank down on to the chest. Her fingers fastened on the skirt of her gown and she drew it towards her, along with her shift. She held them to her face and breathed in the smell of the ocean breeze and that of lavender. She wasted no more time, but dragged off the captain’s shirt and hastened to pull the shift over her head. It proved more difficult putting on her gown, due to the weight of its skirts.

Once dressed, Bridget felt much better, so decided to unbraid her hair and let it hang loose. If only she had the company of another female to help wash and comb it. She had spent most of her childhood with women until her Irish mother, Mary, had died and her father had taken her with him on his ship, due to his fear of her being abducted by one of the rival Irish clans. She recalled her excitement and had looked forward to a more interesting life. She’d had to familiarise herself with his ship and become accustomed to all–male company. The crew had spoilt her and she had come to feel less awkward in the company of men, to love the sea and visiting new places. She had admired her big strong red–haired father, but never forgot the long weeks that she and her mother had spent waiting for his return from sea. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of all that was lost to her. She could very likely be an orphan now.

There came a knock on the door. ‘May I come in?’

Bridget recognised the captain’s voice and her heart leapt. Swiftly she wiped her face, not wanting him to consider her a weak female. It had been a mistake, thinking of the past. It was the present and future that were important. She must persuade this man to help her further.

‘Please do, Captain,’ she called.

The door opened and he stood, gazing at her with an expression in his indigo eyes that brought a blush to her cheeks. ‘You are dressed and looking much improved in health, Mistress McDonald. I deem that you are almost fit to leave this place,’ he said.

The colour drained from her face; it appeared to her that he would be rid of her that day and she was not ready to cope alone just yet. Despite her wanting to be up and doing, this house had proved to be a safe haven. How could she possibly manage alone and penniless in a foreign land?

She cleared her throat. ‘I do understand, Captain, your wanting to be rid of me because you have your business to attend to—but I must confess my limbs are still a little weak. I much appreciate your hospitality. I only wish I could reimburse you, but I have no money. Yet if you are prepared to continue to help me, then I will see that you are rewarded.’

‘I ask for no reward,’ he said abruptly. ‘You look pale and still need to rest.’

‘I am better than I was,’ she murmured, tilting her chin.

There was a silence.

‘You are English, Captain, and have told me that you were one of my father’s shipmates. Does that mean you were once a pirate, too?’

Harry stiffened. ‘Never.’

She flushed with embarrassment for she felt as if she had insulted him. She cleared her throat. ‘May I ask why you decided to live here on Madeira? You never thought of sailing home with my father?’

‘No, he never took me into his confidence before he disappeared. By the purest stroke of luck, I was able to perform a service to the owner of this villa whilst on the other side of the world. There was a skirmish with the natives and I saved his life. We conversed and discovered we had a common ambition, so that is why I set sail in company with him and his companions for Madeira.’

‘What was this ambition of yours?’ she asked.

‘I wished to sail around the coast of Africa to the Indies. I hope that answer will suffice for the moment. Right now I would know more about you and how you came to be captured by pirates.

She sighed and plucked at her skirts. ‘When I set out from London in search of my father, I had three companions and we were accompanied by another ship. Unfortunately the vessels were separated by a storm and our ship was attacked by pirates. Our captain was killed and so were several members of the crew.’

He frowned. ‘And your companions?’

‘Certainly, owing to her station, Lady Elizabeth should have been ransomed, but I do not know what might have happened to Hannah, her maid, and Joshua Wood, who was also in her service. I was separated from them, you see. They remained on the captured ship and I was taken on to the pirates’ vessel to be sold to the slavers.’

‘It is possible Joshua Wood might have been forced to join the pirates.’

‘I see.’ Bridget sighed. ‘Tell me, Captain—do you know what happened to Captain Black Harry?’

Harry’s heart leapt. He had been waiting for this moment and he still did not know how to answer the question. His dark brows knit and he folded powerful arms across his broad chest. ‘I had almost forgotten you knew the captain. This Joshua Wood, you admired him?’

Bridget gave him a startled look. ‘He was a good man. Dependable.’

Harry felt a curl of envy. ‘A handsome man?’

‘I would say pleasant, rather than handsome.’

‘You were fond of him?’ he pressed.

She frowned, wondering why he asked such questions of Joshua. ‘I liked him. As I have told you, he was a good man, not the kind to force himself on a woman like some,’ she added, dropping her gaze and gripping her hands tightly together.

Harry thought of the slave trader and wished he had him there in front of him, so he could punch him in the face, but all he said was, ‘I am glad to hear it. This Lady Elizabeth—what is her full name?’

Bridget pulled herself together. ‘Lady Elizabeth Stanley. She is related to the King of England.’

Surprise flared in Harry’s eyes. ‘A rare prize, indeed, for a pirate. I deem you have no need to fear for her life. She will certainly have been ransomed. It is a pity she did not arrange for you to be ransomed, too.’

Bridget nodded. ‘But the fault was not hers that I was taken away by the pirates and I know she was deeply concerned for me. In the past she was exceedingly kind to me. When I escaped from my uncle I was able to help in the rescue of her goddaughter, Rosamund, who was abducted by her stepbrother around that time. Afterwards, her ladyship offered to be of assistance to me. I became part of her household and she took my problems to heart and decided to accompany me on my search for my father and Captain Black Harry. Only on the way …’ She became agitated and jumped to her feet. ‘You can have no notion of what it is like to be desired by men who have you in their power! What I had to do just to survive …’

Harry reached out and was compelled to take her by the shoulders. He gazed down into her face and slowly lifted a hand and stroked her cheek. ‘You are very beautiful.’

Bridget closed her eyes and allowed her face to rest against his hand. ‘Beauty can be a bane,’ she whispered, thinking of the time when even Black Harry had looked at her with a delighted expression on his handsome face. She opened her eyes and looked up into the captain’s bearded face. ‘Do you know the whereabouts of Black Harry?’ she asked again with a troubled look.

Harry released her. ‘He no longer exists.’

‘What!‘ Bridget was taken aback. ‘When did this happen? Did he die recently or was he lost in the New World and someone else took over his ship?’

Harry was surprised by her reaction. ‘You sound like you care what happened to him. Yet earlier I received the impression that you despised him, so why should it matter to you if he is dead?’

‘There are those I know in England who will be saddened to hear of his death,’ she said.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. ‘If you talk of his family, he has none.’

‘How do you know that? He had lost his memory and could not remember his family,’ she said with a toss of her head, causing her glorious hair to swirl about her shoulders. ‘If only he had not separated me from my father and gone to the New World.’

Harry’s gaze fixed on her hair and he longed to touch it and run his fingers through it. Instead he clenched his fists. ‘No doubt when last you confronted each other, you were showing all the signs of burgeoning womanhood.’

Bridget flushed. ‘What are you suggesting? That he thought I would have an unsettling effect on his crew?’

He raised his eyebrows in a speaking manner. ‘No doubt he was aware that a woman’s needs are very different from a man’s and to be the only female on a long voyage would have presented you with problems.’

She knew he was right about that, but was not going to admit it. ‘I would have coped, Captain. A woman can adapt to difficult situations the same as a man.’

‘I am not disputing your courage and stamina, Mistress McDonald, but a woman cannot help but practise her feminine wiles on a man in order to get him to do what she wishes.’

Bridget’s jaw dropped and, for a moment, she was speechless and hurt that he could believe that of her. ‘Are you daring to suggest that I am a coquette?’ she demanded. ‘I thought you were different from other men because you have been kind to me, but I see now that I was mistaken. I will seek help elsewhere. I have been called a witch in the past and accused of putting a spell on a man. The slave trader was typical of a certain kind of man who blames the object of their lust, without caring what damage they do to a woman. No doubt Black Harry was the same.’

Harry’s jaw tightened. ‘You do him an injustice when he cannot defend his reputation. I understand why you were desperate enough to jump into a raging sea, but I am not like that slave trader. Anyway, if you prefer to manage without any further help from me then I will leave you alone to consider your options.’ He left the bedchamber, closing the door carefully behind him.

If there had been anything close by that she could have picked up and thrown at him, Bridget would have done so. She wanted to scream at him. How could he not understand how much his words had hurt her? She had done everything possible to hide her feminine charms from the pirate crew but little good it had done her. When she had fought off the advances of the ones who had tried to steal a kiss from her, she had been repaid with a beating.