“She’s not a wench,” the man who took her responded. “And I had no choice.”
The third man swung the oar, sending them sailing over the dark waters. “Ah, that’s where you put the Ring,Capitaine,” he said in a slight French accent. “Clever.”
Emeline could make no sense of their ramblings as she numbly stared at the inky waves rippling against the boat. She should jump. She knew how to swim, but could she with her hands tied and her skirts dragging her down?Don’t be a coward, Emeline! What if she drowned? What if a shark ate her? What if she couldn’t make it back to shore? Fears assailed her. But wouldn’t any of those be preferable to becoming the mistress of a filthy pirate?
The boat thudded against the hull of a ship. The moment of her escape had passed. She cursed her cowardice as the pirate took her arm and once again tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of rice, then climbed a rope ladder.
At least a dozen men crowded the main deck, some whistling at her while others fired questions at their captain. The stench of unwashed bodies, rum, and tobacco pinched her nose. Her heart rammed against her ribs.
He finally set her on her feet, keeping a firm grip on her arm as his two companions leapt on deck.
She wanted to ask what he wanted with her, but she gagged from the grotesque scarf crammed in her mouth. Tears filled her eyes, and her knees nearly buckled beneath the horror.
Chattering sounds rang out, and she glanced above to see a monkey swinging down the ratlines.
“Cap’n!” one short pirate shouted from the railing. “There be a cockboat headed straight fer us.” He lowered the scope. “An’ they don’t look friendly.”
“Hang it!” The man dragged her to the railing and took the glass, pressing it against his eye.
Emeline allowed a seed of hope to plant in her heart. It must be her father and brother.Oh, Lord, let it be them!
The man uttered a curse, then spun and issued a slew of orders that sent his crew scrambling to lift the boat aboard, weigh anchor, and raise all sail.
They were leaving? She tugged against the man’s grip, moaning her complaint, but he handed her to another sailor and ordered him to lock her in his cabin at once.
Chapter 3
T
he pirate warned her to stay put. The door slammed, echoing Emeline’s fate through the cabin. Darkness invaded. Not only the cabin, but her very soul. She blinked, her eyes finally focusing on a shaft of moonlight penetrating the stern windows. It landed on a desk covered with maps, navigation instruments, quill pens, and empty bottles. She should pray, but her heart continued to thrash wildly, her breath blasted out her nose, and her mind refused to accept what was happening. Perhaps this was all a nightmare, and she’d soon awake and find herself safe on her father’s ship, theRansom.
Did people feel pain in dreams like the burn she felt around her wrists from the tight ropes? Did people smell the stench of sweat and blood and rum that now filled her nose and seared her lungs? Everything was so real—the steady rock of the ship, the pounding of bare feet above her as the pirates rushed to do their captain’s bidding, the crank of the anchor chain as the anchor was hauled up from the seabed…
And the shouts of the man who had stolen her from everything she had ever known.
She swallowed down a lump of terror. Nay, this was no dream.
Father God, You know what’s happening. Please, please send my father to rescue me!
A whimper caught in her throat as loosened sails thundered above and the deck shifted beneath her. Stumbling, she slammed against a chair bolted to the floor. A dozen terrifying thoughts taunted her at what these pirates intended to do with her, but she shook her head in an effort to scatter them away.
She must be strong. She must stop whining and do what her siblings would do, what her parents would do. They would not cower in fear! They would look for a way of escape. They would fight to the death, if need be, against such villainy.
Struggling against the ropes that bound her wrists, she approached the desk and sought something sharp with which to cut them. But no knives, swords, or blades of any kind could be found. A pistol stared tauntingly at her, but what could she do without her hands and a flame to light it? Not that she didn’t know how to prime, load, and ignite a gun as her father had taught her.
Her father.
Oh, come for me, Papa!
The ship jerked, sails snapped, and the rush of the sea against the hull blared through the cabin. She gazed out the stern windows. The lights from Nassau grew smaller and smaller, malevolently winking at her—mocking her dire predicament.
The door swung open, startling her, and in marched four pirates, one carrying a lantern. He set it upon the desk, then sparked a match from the flame and lit two other lanterns, including one hanging on the deckhead above.
Emeline thought to retreat into the shadows but remembered her father instructing her that regardless of the terror she felt, she must never show it to her enemies. Hence, she stood her ground and raised her chin.
A monkey scampered in and leapt onto the desk, grabbed a piece of fruit from a bowl, and began chomping on it.
The captain drew his cutlass and laid it on a sideboard before spinning to face his men.
