They were separated then when one of the pirates pushed Avery to hurry him along.
The first sign that the island was inhabited was a watchtower they passed along the beaten path. It was built of logs, and was tall enough to have a clear view of the sea in at least three directions. They were climbing into the hills behind it. The tower was occupied, but the fellow in the tiny hut on top of it was asleep as they walked by. Not a very diligent guard, Gabrielle thought as one of the pirates kicked the tower to wake him, while another swore at him in fluid French.
Margery added her own opinion as she came up beside Gabrielle. “Lazy no-goods, the lot of them. Let’s hope when help arrives, the guard sleeps through that as well.”
Gabrielle would have liked to share that optimism, but the chance of their being rescued before they were ransomed was slim. “Once they find my father—”
“If they find him,” Margery cut in. “Since we weren’t even sure that we could, what are the chances of that, eh? We never should have undertaken this journey. Didn’t I warn you it would be dangerous?”
“You could have stayed home,” Gabrielle reminded her. “But it wasn’t supposed to be dangerous. Would you have believed that pirates still exist in this day and age if someone had told you? No, you would have scoffed or laughed at them.”
“That’s beside the point,” Margery replied. “But listen to me, before we get separated again. Look for a weapon, any sort, even a fork if you can get your hands on one, and keep it on your person at all times. If one of these bastards starts anything with you, you stick it right in his belly, hear? Don’t hesitate.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“You better, girl. If anything happens to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”
It looked like Margery was about to cry. She was more upset than she was letting on. And her distress was contagious. Gabrielle would have liked nothing better than to cry on her friend’s shoulder just then, but she managed to restrain herself and dredged up some courage for both of them.
“You worry too much. We’re going to be fine. Captain Brillaird has assured me of that.”
That wasn’t exactly true, but it was what Margery needed to hear and it got a weak smile out of her.
About a half hour later, they reached a large settlement of sorts high in the hills, surrounded by trees. There was one big building at its center, built of actual lumber that she was to learn had been obtained from one of the ships the pirates had plundered at sea. The rest of the buildings spread out around it were mostly just small thatch-roofed huts. Gabrielle could see through the open doorways that many of the huts were filled with chests and crates, serving as storage sheds for the pirates’ ill-gotten gains.
Avery and the other male captives were shoved into one hut and Margery was led away to another, but not before she shouted back at Gabrielle, “Remember! In the belly!”
“Where are you taking her?” Gabrielle protested.
The pirate who was pushing her toward the big building sneered. “Servants don’t bring ransoms, but she’ll be released with you once the captain’s demands are met. You’re valuable, so you’ll go in here, where it’ll be easier to guard you. Don’t want any of the mates touching you and interfering with the high ransom you’re sure to fetch.” He winked at her lewdly, and Gabrielle couldn’t help but cringe.
Once inside, the pirate led Gabrielle to a long table in the large room, pushed her down into a chair, then walked away. A bowl of food was set in front of her by a female cook, who remarked in a friendly tone, “Hope you got someone to pay for you, dearie. I delayed as long as I could before I finally had to admit that I didn’t have any family left, and that’s why I’m still here.”
The middle-aged woman who introduced herself as Dora sat down and chatted with Gabrielle for a few minutes. She’d been allowed to stay on the island to work off her ransom. She cooked for the pirates, and apparently serviced them in other ways if she felt like it, all of which she mentioned in an offhanded manner.
She’d been there for two years now and even considered herself one of them, volunteering, “They’re not out to make a name for themselves, not like the pirates you might have heard of from the last century. In fact, they change their names frequently, change their ships or the names of them, use disguises. They’re in the business of making money, not getting hung. They operate in secrecy now and even change their base every few years.”
“Is that what this is, their base?” Gabrielle asked curiously.
Dora nodded. “This one is on an island so remote it’s never been named. It’s a nice island, too nice actually. A time or two they’ve had to scare away settlers who also thought so.”
“Who leads them?”
“No one. The captains have equal say, and jurisdiction only over their own crews. If something needs to be decided that affects them all, they vote on it.”
“How many captains share this base?” Gabrielle asked.
“Five now. There was a sixth, but he died of natural causes last year and his crew joined up among the others.”
Gabrielle expressed surprise that the number was so few for what seemed such a large settlement.
“They don’t want too many crews here. Figure the more people there are, the greater the chance someone will go rotten and give away the location of the base.”
The woman moved away as soon as Captain Brillaird entered the building. Gabrielle had never been given his real name, nor was she to ever learn it. He changed his name so frequently that his men just called him Captain, so she had, too, when she found it necessary to address him. But he merely took note of where she sat, then ignored her for the rest of the day—and the days that followed.
Five days later the captain still hadn’t asked her whom to contact for her ransom. She was left to worry over how to explain that while she knew her father would meet their price, she simply didn’t know where he could be found. She really didn’t think the captain would believe her, and she couldn’t imagine what would happen if he didn’t. Dora explained that she hadn’t been questioned yet because the captain didn’t need the information until he was ready to set sail again, and when that would be was anyone’s guess. The captain’s wife lived on the island and he hadn’t seen her in two months.
The pirates ate, slept, drank, gambled, fought, joked, and told stories. Gabrielle slept in a tiny room at the back of the main building, and she was allowed access to the main room each day, so she couldn’t complain that her time there was boring. Nerve-wracking, but not boring. Margery was brought in to visit her for a couple of hours each day, and Gabrielle was relieved to see that her former housekeeper was weathering her captivity well, although she complained incessantly about the thin straw mattress she was forced to sleep on and the poor quality of the meals.
On the sixth day of Gabrielle’s captivity two more ships arrived and the main room actually got crowded with the new crews. And much more disturbing. There was nothing friendly about the newcomers. Several actually chilled her with a glance. And one of the two new captains stared at her so long, and so intently, she didn’t doubt he meant her harm.
Tall and muscular, he was likely in his late thirties or early forties, though it was hard to tell with his full black beard that was so matted, she doubted a comb had ever passed through it. She heard people call him Pierre Lacross, though he probably wasn’t really French. So many of the pirates pretended to be something they weren’t, and none of them used their real names. But then she found out he was the exception to that rule. He really was French. He had a strong accent that he couldn’t turn on and off like the others could. He wasn’t ugly, but the cruel glint in his blue eyes marred what might have been a handsome visage.
There was something evil about this man, and she wasn’t the only one to recognize it. The other men moved out of his way and avoided catching his eye. But his icy blue eyes kept coming back to Gabrielle, until she was nearly trembling with the fear he managed to inspire.
&n
bsp; Gabrielle had left England quite innocent of men’s desires. Her mother had never explained what she could expect when she married one. She probably would have done so before Gabrielle had had her Season in London, but Carla had been caught up in her romance with Albert, and then consumed with her own misery at the end when he’d betrayed her. But Gabrielle had learned a tremendous amount about men from the pirates.
They didn’t curb their language when she was within hearing distance, and they loved to boast about their sexual conquests. So she had no trouble understanding the motives of the evil captain Pierre Lacross when he leaned over her the day after he’d arrived and said, “I’m going to buy you from my friend. Then it will be my choice what to do with you.”
She wished she hadn’t understood what he was implying, but she did. Would Captain Brillaird care where the money for her came from as long as he was paid? Did she dare to promise him more than Pierre could possibly pay? That was the only way she could see to avoid being “owned.”
There was nowhere to run even if she could manage to sneak out of the building, no way off the island except with the pirates. Captain Brillaird was still her only help and yet she knew he wouldn’t help her out of the goodness of his heart. What goodness? He was a pirate! Money was his only concern.
But she knew instinctively that she would come to serious harm if Pierre had his way with her, which was why he terrified her so much. And she was unfortunate enough to witness his cruelty when he disciplined one of his own men. He whipped the man right there in the hall, and not with just any whip. A cat-o’-nine-tails it was called, and it shredded skin as easily as a knife. The look in Pierre’s eyes as he wielded it left no doubt in her mind that he was enjoying it.
Pierre grew impatient, waiting for her captain to show up so he could make the transaction. He sat next to her at her table and taunted her with what he planned to do to her.
“Why do you not look at me, chérie? You ladies, you are filled with too much pride. You will have none left when I am done with you. Look at me!”
She didn’t. She’d avoided his gaze since that first day. “Go away, please.”
He laughed. “So refined you are. So polite. I wonder how long that will last after I make you my pet. Will you be an obedient pet, chérie, or will I have to punish you often?” He heard the gasp she couldn’t hold back and added, “You saw what I am capable of, but do not worry for your sweet, aristocratic skin. I would never mar your beauty. There are other ways to train a pet…”
He taunted, but he never touched her. He was careful not to do that with so many witnesses in the room. But it was obvious he wanted to. Dora told her the forced restraint was causing him such considerable frustration that he got so drunk each night he would stumble outside to pass out somewhere, and not return until the following afternoon.
It was an incredible piece of luck for Gabrielle that Captain Brillaird’s wife kept him occupied until the last of the five captains sailed into the harbor. The fifth captain arrived on the island. He entered the building with Captain Brillaird one morning, both of them laughing heartily over something one of them had said. He noticed Gabrielle immediately. He paused and stared at her, then he put his arm around Brillaird’s shoulder and offered to buy her. Pierre wasn’t there to cry foul, that he’d thought of it first. She was sure he would have, and that there might even have been a fight. But he was still sleeping off his overindulgence of the night before. And Captain Brillaird didn’t seem to care one way or the other, just as she’d guessed he wouldn’t. She saw him shrug before the two men shook hands and the fifth captain tossed a purse of coins to him.
Gabrielle was in shock. It all happened so quickly. She found out later that the new captain was a middleman. It wasn’t the first time he’d bought up hostages on the isle and returned them to their families for a tidy profit. It worked agreeably for all concerned, allowing the other captains to get right back to the business of capturing more ships, instead of dealing with the business side of their trade. He was good at the business side, and disguises. She almost didn’t recognize him…
“What in the blazes are you doing here, Gabby, and where is your mother?”
He’d taken her out of the settlement immediately and was pulling her down the well-worn path to the bay. Most of his crew were still anchoring his ship, but a couple of his men whom they passed on the trail were ordered back to the ship without an explanation. When Gabrielle dug in her heels and explained that her housekeeper needed to be rescued, too, one was sent to collect Margery.
She had a thousand questions for him, but they were all forgotten with the reminder of her loss. “She died, Papa. That’s why I left England. I was coming to find you, to live with you,” she cried. “But not on this island, if it’s all the same to you,” she added primly.
Chapter 3
G ABRIELLE’S FATHER WAS EXTREMELY EMBARRASSED the day he rescued her. All these years and she and her mother had never known, never suspected, that he’d been living such an adventurous life. Nathan Brooks the pirate. That took quite a bit of getting used to.
He looked so different now. It really had been difficult to recognize him. Whenever he had come to England to visit her, he’d cleaned himself up, shaved his beard, cut the long hair he was sporting now. That was the only man she’d ever known, and she’d thought she’d taken after him, at least in terms of her coloring. His hair was just as black as hers, his eyes the same pale blue. She hadn’t inherited his height, though, which was fortunate, because he was a tall man, a bit over six feet, while her size was the same as her mother’s at five feet, four inches. But this man looked nothing like the father she knew and loved. He was actually as flamboyant in his dress and looks as all the other pirates she’d met. He even wore a small golden earring in one ear!
He quickly removed the earring. That’s how embarrassed he seemed to be that she’d found out about his secret life.
A couple of hours after they sailed out of the harbor, Gabrielle realized her father’s ship had slowed down. She went up on deck to see what was happening and walked right into Pierre Lacross! His ship had pulled abreast of her father’s ship. Pierre had followed them from the pirate base!
She hadn’t yet mentioned him to Nathan. There hadn’t been much time for them to talk yet, and besides, she was still trying to deal with her shock over finding out her own father was a member of that pirate confederacy. But she’d at least felt safe after her father had rescued her and had been so certain she’d never see the likes of Pierre again.
But now here he was on the deck of The Crusty Jewel, standing next to Nathan and talking to him as if they were old friends. It dawned on her that they must be old acquaintances at least, since each of them was one of the five captains who shared that base.
Pierre’s cold, avid gaze latched onto her immediately, pinning her to the warm deck boards. Her fear rushed back to her. She must have turned pale, because her father moved to her side and put his arm around her protectively.
“You sailed off with her too quickly, mon ami,” Pierre said, making no pretense about his reason for being there. “I was going to buy her for myself.”
“She’s not for sale,” Nathan said.
“Of course she is. You paid for her, I will pay you more. You will make your profit, we will both be happy.”
“You misunderstand. She’s my daughter,” Nathan said coldly.
Pierre looked surprised. There was a very tense, silent moment while he seemed to assess the situation, his eyes shifting back and forth between her and her father. He must have realized he couldn’t have her without a fight and decided against it; he laughed and complained about rotten luck in what for him was probably as good-natured a tone as he could muster. Pierre’s tone seemed to assure her father that he knew Gabrielle was off-limits to him, but Gabrielle wasn’t fooled. She had a feeling that Pierre viewed the conversation with her father as only a temporary delay. He sailed off, but she was very much afraid this wasn’t going to be the las
t time she ever saw him.
Margery wasn’t shy about expressing her wholehearted disapproval of her father’s occupation. With all the nasty looks she was giving him those first few days, Gabrielle quickly found herself defending him. He was her father, after all. That he was a pirate didn’t mean she could stop loving him.
She and her father didn’t get a chance to talk until they reached his home port in St. Kitts, an island central to his sailing routes. He kept a small house there on the beach, far enough from town that he could anchor his ship offshore and row in if he had to. But he never had to. St. Kitts was an English port and he was an Englishman who’d never once fired on English ships. The French, the Dutch, the Spanish, those ships were all fair game.
His house was rather unique, like a fine English cottage that had been adapted to the warm climate, with large airy rooms and windows open to catch the breeze no matter which direction it came from. Gleaming hardwood floors, palm trees in large urns, thin, wispy drapery, these things added a touch of local color, but the furnishings were elegant and quite English in design, and everything was kept spotless by his small staff of servants who looked after the house when he wasn’t in port. The paintings on the walls were tasteful and so reminiscent of those her mother had collected that she felt right at home.
The bedroom she was given was much larger than the one she’d had in England. The old wardrobe in it was an antique with cherry wood and ivory inlays in its doors; the canopy bed had carved posts and was draped in sheer white mosquito netting. And the view of the ocean and the harbor in the distance that could be seen from her balcony was magnificent.
The dining room also overlooked the ocean, and dinner that night was a tasty local dish of stuffed crab with plantains and spicy tomatoes, served with a fine French wine. A balmy, scented breeze entered from the open windows, as well as the soothing sound of ocean waves. She had a feeling she was going to love living there. But it didn’t appear that Margery would. She spent the entire dinner glaring at the servants and insisting she was going to catch the first ship back home.