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BUCCANEER

by Rue Chapman


Buccaneer

Charlotte heard the pounding of feet on the deck overhead, and huddled into the corner of her tiny cabin. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, not even any furniture to move to block the door. A bunk, a hook on the wall to hang her clothes, a tiny porthole - and Lady Charlotte Herrington, her dark hair in a wild tangle around her face, her blue eyes wide with fear.

More shouts from above, then heavy footsteps moving closer. Below decks now, coming towards her cabin. Charlotte's hands were slick with the cold sweat of fear.

Suddenly the door swung open, slamming against the wall. The man who stepped into her cabin seemed huge in that tiny space. His hair was a wild golden mane, his eyes a strange golden brown, he was all predator. He paused for a moment, surveying the sweet vision in front of him, then sketched a bow. His pretence of civility was a studied insult.

"Lady Charlotte, I presume?"

She forced herself to speak, her mouth suddenly dry, "You have the advantage of me."

His grin grew wider. "I do indeed."

"I mean, I don't know your name." She stood as straight as she could, determined not to show her fear to this animal, "What name will the rabble shout as you are hanged for this piracy?"

"Ah, so she has spirit. That makes victory even sweeter. You may call me Captain, since I now command this vessel. Or Sir, to show your respect for me."

"You are no Captain!"

"...or you may call me Blackstone. Kane Blackstone."

Charlotte was paper-white now, barely able to breathe. "You... you're..."

"Yes, my sweet prize, I'm the man with a price of ten thousand gold crowns on his head. The man your fiancé - Captain Harcourt is your fiancé, isn't he? - has been chasing up and down these seas for the past two years. With obviously, no success."

"John will kill you for this! He's coming to meet this ship, when he finds out about this..."

"John already knows. He was coming to meet this ship. He's currently chained in the hold of my vessel, off the port bow there." He gestured at the porthole.

Charlotte was loath to turn her back on him, but she took a quick glimpse out the porthole at the vessel that had come into view. "What have you done to John, you animal!"

"Nothing. Yet. What happens to him is up to you."

"Me? But - you have no right, let us both go at once!" Even as she said it she realised how futile it was. But Charlotte was accustomed to getting what she wanted - which was why she was sailing across an ocean to marry her fiancé as soon as she turned eighteen, instead of waiting for him to finish his tour of duty and return to her.

"What right? I have this right!" A whisper of metal and his sword was at her throat, the point resting lightly on the soft skin there. "Now, as I said, his fate depends on you. What are you prepared to do to save his life?"

"Me? I - if you let us go I'll see that - that your sentence is commuted to prison instead of being hanged as you deserve."

"Hardly likely. Think again,"

"I - I'll plead for your life." He shook his head slowly, his smile growing, "...for your freedom?"

"I'm free right now. And I've just defeated the man who was supposed to capture me. My freedom is safe enough. What else can you offer?"

"My father has money..."

"I have more gold than your father will ever see."

"I - what else can I offer you?"

Silently the tip of his sword left her throat, trailing down her left side, then up the right, outlining her body.

"You - you wouldn't dare!"

"I could take you right now, then share you with my men as I pleased... But I won't." Charlotte was dizzy with relief for a moment. "Because you're going to offer yourself to me. Freely."

"Never!"

"You care so little for your fiancé? You want to see his head dangling from my mast?"

Charlotte met his eyes, her own pleading for escape. His strange golden gaze held her, almost drawing her towards him. "Please... please let us go... we'll... I promise... you'll be safe."

"I am safe. Your fiancé is not. But I'll let you go now, and unharmed. I'll put you ashore in a safe port. Free and untouched."

Charlotte's smile of relief was like sunrise after a dark night, "Thank you! I promise we -"

"Only you. Your darling fiancé will stay here with me. Or his head will." Charlotte gaped at him, all smiles, and hope, gone. "Now if you want to keep his head on his shoulders - answer my question. What will you do to save his life?"

"I -"

"Will you offer your body? Your soft skin, your sweet cries? Your virginity?"

"John would never - he'd never ask that of me - he'd die to protect me!"

In silence the pirate dropped a sheet of parchment on the bunk. Trying not to move any closer to him, she managed to see what was scrawled on it... it was John's familiar writing, she'd spent the last two years poring over every letter from him, almost memorising them.

"Charlotte, I beg you to do whatever is asked of you. For my sake. I love you, my darling, and I know I can rely on you."

Blue eyes swimming in tears met his relentless gaze. He smiled in victory. "When you leave this cabin you turn left and go up to the deck, and I'll put you ashore at the next port. And give you your dear fiancé to take with you - minus his head. Or you turn right and follow me to the Captain's cabin. My cabin now, since the previous occupier... left in a hurry. This cabin of yours is a little too cramped for what I have in mind. Decide now, my patience is limited."

He turned and strode away. Charlotte closed her eyes, telling herself it was all a nightmare.

But when she opened them the first thing she saw was the parchment, and John's plea. And she couldn't betray his trust. He would die for her, she had to be strong now for him. She stood tall, took a deep breath, and then walked out of her cabin. And turned right.

The Captain's cabin was much larger than hers, and more lavish, with a large desk, several chairs, and a wide bunk. Charlotte stalked into the room and glared at the pirate lounging against the desk. He'd thrown off his jacket and heavy sword belt, now his white silk shirt was open to the waist, showing enough of his broad chest to make Charlotte shiver. She tried to steady her voice. "I'm here."

"Obviously. What for?"

She trembled in sudden rage - the animal wanted to force her to beg for her own humiliation. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin proudly. "I'm here to save my fiancé from a murdering coward who attacks defenceless women."

"Defenceless, are you? But not without pride, I see. And who have I murdered?"

"The captain - the crew - my maid." At the thought of Nancy tears filled her eyes - what had they done to the poor girl?

"The captain, and crew, and your maid are all in a longboat. With food, water and a compass, with luck they'll reach safe port by tomorrow. I don't murder the innocent." Word of his policy had spread amongst seafarers everywhere - when Captain Kane Blackstone took a ship those who didn't resist were released unharmed. Few men below decks wanted to fight to the death to protect someone else's wealth.

"But you... you said you'll kill John!"

"He's no innocent. Now, ask me for what you want. Ask me politely." He grinned as she ground her teeth in frustration.

"P- Please don't hurt John. Please release him unharmed. I - I offer myself in payment for his life."

"And I accept your charming offer."

Charlotte closed her eyes for a moment, if only she could open them and it was all over. She gasped as she heard him step closer. Her eyes flew open to see him drawing a straight dagger from his boot. In silence he moved the point of the dagger to the neckline of her gown, and then in one swift movement he slit the dress from neck to hem. The soft fabric fell away as the knife point teased at it. Charlotte was frozen as the knife moved to her waist. She kept her eyes on the far wall of the cabin, the porthole showed clear blue sky and azure-coloured waters, calm in the sunshine. And the other ship, the one that held her love. She could do this, survive this, for his sake.

Blackstone trailed the knife around her waist. With exaggerated care he slit the tapes tying each petticoat, until all three were pooled around her feet. Charlotte stood in her shoes, hose, bodice and drawers - she hated tight-lacing and hadn't bothered with her corset in the steamy tropical heat. Now she'd have given almost anything for something more solid than fine cotton.

The knife point glinted as it slipped under the narrow ribbons at the neckline of her bodice, twisting to slice through them. Then the next, and the next, until the bodice parted. Light gleamed on her ivory skin. The knife slid to her shoulders, cutting the straps of her bodice smoothly so that it fluttered to the floor.

He paused for a moment, admiring her. Her breasts were full and rounded, tipped with nipples like tiny pink rosebuds. The knife traced the outline of each breast, resting for a moment on each rosy nipple, as Charlotte gasped, but kept staring fixedly at that vessel outside the porthole, with its precious cargo.

The knife - she hated that knife - slid down past her ribs, then in one swift movement it slit her drawers down the left side, from waist to knee. Then the right. Charlotte kept her thighs tight together as the fabric slithered down, pinning the remnants in a last effort at modesty. Then the knife point trailed down from her waist, through the silky triangle of dark curls and she jumped in shock, losing her last protection as the material fell away. Charlotte bit back a whimper, determined not to give him the satisfaction, as she was revealed.

Kane surveyed her: the buckles on her fashionable shoes caught the light, her white hose were gartered above the knee, and above the proper shoes and hose was pale alabaster skin, the beautiful proportions of firm thighs, the sweet swell of her hips, narrow waist and full breasts. "Turn."

Seething, she turned slowly. Kane watched her rear view - one of the most beautiful bottoms he'd ever seen. Firm and full, sweetly rounded, just begging for a spanking.

She turned to face him. "Are you going to get this over with, or do I have to stand here till I catch cold and die of pneumonia?"

"A sharp tongue will get you more than pneumonia."

Charlotte was determined not to show her fear. "I came here to - to finish a deal, not to stand freezing in the middle of the room."

"It's hardly freezing - this is the tropics. But if you're cold you can go up on deck, and warm up in the sunlight?"

"No! No, that wasn't..."

"Or I could warm you up right now." He sheathed the knife in his boot and stood tall, moving towards her until he was so close she could feel the heat of his skin, "This is how a pirate takes his woman."



© Rue Chapman
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.