The Pirate's Bride Read online

  His jaw dropped. He looked down at the little wet squares of material drying on the wood deck between them, and belated realization dawned. Meeting her mortified gaze, he felt his own face redden right up to his ears.

  Shit, shit, and double shit. She was washing the rags she used for her monthly courses up here out of sight of the men, and now he’d blundered along, flustering both of them. She’d taken such pains to fit in with all of the men, he felt sure not a one had thought of this eventuality.

  He had no experience with females in regards to this, and that suited him fine. The less he knew the better. However, this was Sophie. He’d sworn to take care of her and protect her, so there was no room for squeamish embarrassment. At least now, he could keep the others away from her private area up here on the poop deck.

  More than eager to do her bidding, he stammered his apology. Tripping over his feet, he beat a hasty retreat to the male haven below, and dreaded the next time he and his captain met.

  ~*~

  “The cap’n sent me away, Limey. It’s me watch, but she told me to bugger off.”

  That same evening Pierre passed Limey on deck, content to miss his turn at the helm. Limey reached out and caught his sleeve.

  “Don’t go too far. I’ll talk to the captain, so you will get your watch.” The older man accepted his fate and veered off to the gun deck where a few pirates were playing dice. Sophie and Limey had avoided each other all afternoon, but he couldn’t evade her any longer.

  Although his soft boots made no sound, he knew when she heard his first footfall, saw her back stiffen. Stopping maybe five feet behind her, he widened his stance and clasped his hands behind his back, prepared to bide his time. He insisted she speak first, as the commanding officer. Petty, but he’d done nothing wrong today.

  A minute or so passed before she gave in. “Well? Are you going to stand there all night?”

  He swallowed his grin. She was so impatient. “If need be.”

  A longer silence.

  Finally, she swung around, left one hand on the wheel. “Fine. I’m sorry I bit your head off earlier today. I was embarrassed you found out. After all, I work with you the closest, and now every time we look at each other we’ll remember today.”

  She pivoted back to the wheel. He approached her, and raised his hand to touch her shoulder. He hesitated, and lowered it a second later. At last, he found some words. “I’m probably more embarrassed than you, Sophie. I’ve never been around women that much. Nevertheless, this secret, like all your others, is safe with me. Hell, I might have to become a blasted priest with all the private information I know about you. I promise I’ll keep the men off that deck. I bet I’m the only one that’s gone up there, anyway. Friends?”

  His hopeful tone got through to her. She turned about and smiled, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Always, Limey. I can’t imagine sailing without you.”

  Relief and desire flooded him as he stepped out of her reach. “You bloody well better not. We’re a team, Sophie. Now isn’t your watch at dawn?” At her nod he continued. “Then fetch old Pierre now, so he doesn’t lose all his plunder at dice.”

  She flashed a wide smile before stepping away from the helm. While he watched her disappear in the fading light, he touched his face where she’d laid her hand. He closed his eyes against the memory.

  ~*~

  When she learned all she could on Tortuga, Sophie returned to the sea. She was happiest there, sailing and practicing over and over how to maximize canvas, or tack into the wind. Often she’d nearly capsize the Phoenix with her lack of control, and it was the only time she would hear Limey swear a blue streak. That’s when she’d laugh in his face. He’d vow to jump ship next port, and she’d laugh even more, promise she’d be better next time. Sometimes she would be.

  If they weren’t practicing maneuvers, they were pirating, taking over the Caribbean Sea in her husband’s absence. No one had seen or heard from Captain Andre Dubois in months. As she was married to the dog, Sophie claimed familial proprietorship and plundered any ship that came into her waters. She was living the life of a pirate and equal to all men. She would never be taken advantage of again.

  It was on one such day, after successfully filling their hold to the gunwales with stolen swag, that the lookout hollered, “Sail ho!”

  At the helm, Sophie glanced at Limey, who pulled out his spyglass to take a gander.

  “Colors?” she queried, frowning when he didn’t answer, continuing to track the intruder through his glass. “Is it one of ours?” she prodded, and saw recognition bloom across his countenance. Recognition and dread.

  “Who is it, Limey?” she pressed.

  Slowly he turned from his spyglass and replied, “The Jade Princess.”

  ~*~

  Revenge was a dish best served cold.

  Sophie Bellard Dubois believed in this credo with all her heart, especially when she’d been hand-delivered the opportunity this afternoon. After all, hadn’t Andre accused her of cuckolding him? Hadn’t he stormed away to parts unknown, disengaging himself from this area of the world? He bloody well should thank her for maintaining the status quo in his absence. She doubted the blackguard would see it her way.

  “What’s the plan, Sophie? We can be out of here if we turn rudder now.”

  “Hoist the colors and fire a warning shot over their bow, Limey,” she ordered without hesitation.

  He stared, as if unable to believe she would even suggest the maneuver. “Are...are you sure, Ma’am?”

  She looked down her nose at him. “Is that insubordination I detect, Limey?”

  “No, Captain. It’s just...that’s your husband’s ship.”

  “Exactly. Carry out my orders, Limey.”

  She returned to her spyglass, as Limey cried out, “Hoist the colors and ready starboard guns, you bilge rats.” He moved away to oversee the warning shot. She studied the approaching ship.

  Of course, she shouldn’t fire on her own husband. She knew that, but the cad deserved it. He deserved to find out who had taken his place in his absence, who would not be cowed by his repudiation or curse words. Who was now a pirate in her own right.

  The Jade Princess had covered more distance but still it flew no colors. With her heartbeat pounding in excitement, Sophie checked with the gunner, received a nod of readiness. She nodded in return, the fuse was lit, and...

  Ka-boom!

  A round shot flew high and true over the Jade Princess. She got the supreme pleasure of watching the crew on the opposing deck hunch and duck, including the captain. Dubois spun about and locked eyes on her, glaring across the distance at this stranger firing upon him. She stifled a nervous giggle of anticipation.

  Confident her new pirate’s attire and braided hair camouflaged her from her husband’s recognition, she bowed low to him from across the distance, sweeping her hat off with its absurd plumage before hollering to her crew to bring them about and prepare to board.

  Within minutes, the Phoenix laid stem to stern beside the Jade Princess, a wide plank stretching between them. Dubois paced his deck like a caged tiger, his face thundercloud dark. Her pulse quadrupled at the thought of their imminent confrontation. She squared her shoulders, straightened her spine, and marched across the board after her first mate and chosen crewmembers, one hand resting on the grip of her cutlass for courage.

  “Who the bloody hell do you think you are, firing upon my ship and boarding me? Do you even know who I am?”

  Andre advanced on Sophie and her crew, pulling up short when her men drew their weapons. His own crew made ready behind him, the clatter of swords and cutlasses unsheathing loud on the suddenly silent deck. On a swift inhale, she strode forward, parting her men as Moses did the Red Sea.

  “Of course I know who the bloody hell you are, Captain Dubois. I am also Captain Dubois, lately of the Sargasso Sea.” She halted in front of her husband. Limey did as well, his close presence behind her bolstering her flagging courage.

  Andre’s
nostrils flared, though his eyes widened as her words sank in. “Sophie? Sophie Bellard? What the devil are you doing here in that...that...get-up?” Shaking his head, he made to move forward, but once more, her crewmembers jabbed their blades at him. He pulled up short.

  “It’s Sophie Bellard Dubois, or have you forgotten that little ceremony we both participated in nearly ten months ago?” She quivered at the memory of the long ago humiliation.

  It didn’t help that a quick once-over told her Andre Dubois was just as sinfully handsome as he’d been at the time of their marriage. Perhaps more so, with his long hair covered by a black bandana hanging down his back, kohl-lined, long-lashed, obsidian eyes snapping at her, and that slim but wiry body encased in fawn-colored, body-hugging breeches and open-necked shirt. Irritation simmered in the air between them as he studied the men holding him off. She called them back reluctantly.

  “Believe me, I have not forgotten that misbegotten night,” he drawled, allowing his gaze to rove over her, stopping at her breasts and hips before returning to her face. Her body heated as if he’d touched her. Not this time, you knave, Sophie thought. This time I’m in charge.

  Swaggering forward, she crossed her arms with a slight curl of her lip. “Then I made a better impression on you than you did for me, husband. You quite slipped my mind these past many months, until you made the unfortunate decision to cross my path today.” His eyes narrowed even as the men surrounding them elbowed each other and guffawed.

  Oh, yes, revenge was definitely a dish best served cold, and a double dose was heading his way.

  ~*~

  Mon dieu this fiery beauty could not possibly be the little rabbit he’d left quivering in their abandoned marriage bed so long ago. Andre allowed his gaze to drift over sophie, noted high, pert breasts suckled that fated night straining against her blouse, and felt groin tighten.

  This woman with her tall, lithe body, raven-black hair curling out of its braid, and a smattering of freckles across her nose bore no resemblance to the cowering sheep he’d married. Merde, he needed to stop thinking in animal metaphors and address the current situation.

  Grimacing, he had to admit she had never been with child. Of course, she could have lost the babe, but he doubted it. It seemed he might not have needed that annulment, though she’d definitely been despoiled when she came to him. And that raised another question altogether. However, he could poke at that wound another time.

  No, she couldn’t have been pregnant and learn to pillage and plunder and sail with a buccaneer crew. She’d had to train for months, and that smacked of his father’s machinations. The chit wouldn’t have thought all this up by herself. She was too much of a rabbit.

  He’d been gone too long in the Orient, if this mousy woman could learn his trade, take over his territory, and earn the respect of other pirates. And there were those animal comparisons again. Time to do damage control.

  He ignored her last jab, putting his hands on his hips and returning her glare with a calmness that didn’t reach his core. That was when he saw it—fear, lurking in the depths of those sapphire blue eyes. For all her bravado, his young “wife” was afraid of him.

  With that discovery, he relaxed. Her fear automatically gave him the upper hand. Confidence boosted, he widened his stance and addressed her. “We need to talk. Alone.”

  She stepped back as if he’d touched her, bumping into that beanstalk of a man behind her. From the youth’s protective body language, Andre surmised he was her first mate. No matter. His business was with his wife, not a boy barely out of knee breeches.

  She swallowed, and said in a crisp tone, “If we must, then I insist it be on my ship. I do not feel comfortable being on your navire des fous. This time, do not make the mistake of running. Phoenix could catch this tub we’re on before you say sacrebleu.”

  He grinned. Calling the Princess a tub was just a petty jab. However, remembering her trepidation, he could afford to be magnanimous, although he did say, “I never run, madame.

  She raised her chin. “I’d rethink that if I were you, monsieur after all, it wasn’t me who flew from La Nouvelle-Orléans and stayed away for ten months, now was it?

  Jesu, the woman had grown tongue of an asp. Frowning, he snapped, “perhaps you should consider why I left on our wedding night, eh, mon amour?”

  She looked away and shuffled her feet. Then, with a toss of her head, she marched past her curious crew and headed for the plank, calling over her shoulder, “When you want to talk, come on by. I won’t be going anywhere.”

  Andre smiled, his gaze on her retreating back. Oh yes, he definitely held all the cards, including the one up his sleeve.

  ~*~

  Only a few more steps and she’d be back on her beloved Phoenix and away from the unsettling presence of her husband. Mon dieu, but he frightened her. Oozed virility, sexuality, everything she steered clear of even though was a woman alone on pirate ship men. these men didn’t threaten her femininity. Andre dubois did, simply by being there.

  How had she thought she could cross verbal swords with him? His wit was rapier sharp and she but a novice. It was time to regroup and salvage her self-confidence before their next meeting.

  As soon as she reached her own deck, she swung around to face a concerned Limey. “Please get the crew to work, swabbing and repairing while we sit dead in the water. I need time to think.”

  She strode to her cabin, closing the door behind her before plopping onto her bunk. From running her through with his cutlass to throwing her on the ground and raping her, her imagination had run the gamut of responses Andre Dubois could have had. The reality was so much milder she broke down in stormy tears.

  She didn’t hear the knock on her door over her sobs, and jumped when Limey knelt at her knees. “Sophie? What the hell is wrong?”

  She spoke from behind fisted fingers. “He frightens me so.”

  Limey gently pulled her hands from her face. She bit her lip against the kindness she saw shimmering in his gaze, in the tender tone he adopted. “Did you think he would take all this lying down? He’s not one of the most feared pirates in the Spanish Main for nothing, love. I thought he handled that pretty well, considering. He’s willing to talk, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about—”

  “I want you with me, Limey, when he comes over.” She grabbed his hands, but he shook his head and pulled them free.

  “Dubois won’t allow it, and I don’t want to be privy to your private information, Sophie. Both of you leave your weapons with me, and I’ll stay right outside the door. He already had the chance to do you harm, and he didn’t. Just remain strong. You know you can be.”

  He fished out a kerchief from his vest pocket and gave it to her to wipe her face. As she did so, she commented, “I never thought beyond the sailing and swashbuckling of pirating to the fighting part. I don’t know if I can stay strong against him.”

  “If you want his territory and his admiration, Sophie, you must stay strong. You must.”

  That was easier said than done.

  Chapter Seven

  Andre glowered as Sophie Dubois flounced across the plank connecting the two ships, her first mate close on her heels. He didn’t need this complication.

  “Madre de dio, you left her for the orient, mi amigo? She is fantástica."

  Turning his head, Andre smiled at de Gallo’s reaction to Sophie. He had to agree she cut a more fascinating figure as a pirate than as a simpering debutante.

  To his first mate he said, “She is a shrew, like every other woman of my acquaintance, Master G. They are only good for two things, bed and babes. Which, now that she’s turned up right under my nose, I plan on availing myself of both those functions.”

  De Gallo wrinkled his brow. “I understand the one, Capitán. I would bed her as often could if she were mine, but babes? Never thought you cared to be a father."

  “I don’t, but I can’t see a woman heavy with child swashbuckling herself across the seas. And, if I visit he
r regularly enough, she will have one at her breast and one at her knee for all her childbearing years, eh, Master G?”

  Pedro slapped his thigh in astonished enjoyment while Andre returned his gaze to the Phoenix. He didn’t like duping his friend and first mate about being married, but he owed it to his “bride” to tell her about the annulment first. Especially now that she wasn’t pawning a bastard off as his, though it still didn’t erase the fact that she hadn’t been a virgin.

  He tossed his tangled thoughts aside. “What I don’t understand, Master G, is how she became a pirate, having come from such a traditional upbringing. I mean, her father was a pirate, oui, but he never let her out of La Nouvelle-Orléans. I am missing a puzzle piece, mon ami and I intend to find it this evening when my wife have our tête à tête."

  Oh, yes, he definitely would find out then.

  ~*~

  “He’s on his way, Captain,” Limey announced from the doorway of Sophie’s cabin later that day.

  She caught her breath and turned to face him with her hand at her collar. After a couple false starts, she spoke what had been on her mind all afternoon.

  “Except with you, Limey, and-and on my wedding night, I’ve never been in a room alone with a man, especially since...well, you know. I-I’m afraid, even though you’ll be nearby.”

  Limey approached, reached out, and cupped her face with both hands. She closed her eyes on an exhaled breath.

  “I will be right there, Sophie. I promise I will never let anything bad happen to you—”

  “Excusez-moi. Am I interrupting?"

  They both faced the intruder. Andre leaned a negligent shoulder against the doorframe of her cabin as if he’d been there for some time. With a whispered “Be strong” to Sophie, Limey brushed by the older pirate and left the room. She wanted to plead with him to return, but knew she had to do this alone. Too late, she realized Limey hadn’t asked for Andre’s weapons. It was up to her to keep the peace now.

  “Come...in,” she offered. Since that’s exactly what he’d done, her invitation faded. She watched him prowl the room with sharp eyes. He touched her globe and her inkwell, lifted the compass, and sextant resting on her desk. Then his dark gaze dropped to the map of the Caribbean Sea beneath her tools. Irritated by his proprietary manner she snapped, “Did you want to talk, or simply examine my navigation instruments?”