The Pirate and Penelope (closed for Vixen and JT69)

Two sailors brought her kicking and biting and screaming to the captain's quarters in the stern of the caravel. The captain looked up to see a bedraggled young woman, about as tall as the shorter sailor, clad only in a thin fine sleeping shift, soaking wet, that clung to her body showing a trim but amply curved figure. And she was yelling about her position, how she should be obeyed, and what would happen once the authorities found out what had happened to her.

The captain looked up from his charts, with an expression of bemusement mixed with annoyance. He walked to his chest and took out two linen handkerchiefs. One he rolled into a ball and stuffed in her mouth, open at the time describing what would befall them. The other he used to tie a gag that held the former firmly in place. She continued to yell, but her voice was now muffled.

"Bind her wrists together behind her back, bind her ankles together and make her fast to that chair."

Then looking straight in her fiery eyes, "Were there any other survivors?"

"No captain, the rest are all sharks dinners by now." From her reaction of horror and anger he knew she was not travelling alone, but that persons known to her had been lost in the sinking.

"And all is lost from the vessel? No plunder but this?" nodding toward her.

"Davy Jones locker, all of it."

"Then take us downwind, west by north west, any man-of-war that saw the explosion can not sail to weather and and we are faster than any upwind of us. When darkness falls, follow Venus, and run no light 'till we are well away from here."

"Leave us" he dismissed them. Then studied her.

Penelope did not shrink away from the man, though he was certainly intimidating. She met his gaze defiantly, no less regal despite her soaked state. She had discarded her gown, stays, and corset in an effort to swim to safety. An effort that had, alas, been a failure.

At least this man did not stink as much as his compatriots did.

He was too silent as he looked at her. She still shivered, nipples hard, shift gauzy and transparent. She did not try to speak again. The linen was making her mouth dry, the knot tied just a little too tightly, the corners of her mouth stretched. She tried the bonds discreetly, but they held fast.

Of course. Because these men were pirates.

Scoundrels...and they would get their comeuppance. Once her fiancé, the Earl, realized she was missing, fleets would be sent for her. She knew he would stop at nothing to get her back. So, she faced the large man squarely, sure in her heart that she would be rescued.

Finally she was quiet.

"Can you control yourself if I take off that gag. I have questions for you, but I will not be screamed at."

The barest downward dip of her head signified her assent.

He took his stilletto and laid the blade on the skin of her cheek. "Be still mistress, 'twould be a shame to leave a permanent mark on such a beautiful face." She held still, impressing him with her courage. He slipped the blade under the gag, and slit it off. She spat the ball from her mouth and glared at him.

"I would know who you are, who you were travelling with, and what business has brought you to the Caribbean Ocean, so close to Jamaica."

A glance at her, plus having heard the way she spoke let him know she was part of the English aristocracy. His thoughts were focusing on what ransom she might command. Intact. With effort he suppressed his natural instincts toward her. It had been a long time since he had had a woman and never one as fine as this one, but the promise of ransom stilled his lust.

Penelope glared, anger rising on her cheeks as she strained against the bonds. Her accent cut around the words, entitled and livid.

"I am Miss Penelope Watkins, daughter of Lord and Lady Watkins, on a voyage to my betrothed."

She paused for effect, knowing that Sir Rodney's name carried weight.

"The Earl of Chichester."

This pirate, though huge and bearded, might have been handsome if not for his rough life. Penny thought he might know what was best for his ship and crew, since he had not touched her at all. If she arrived to the Earl without her maidenhead, there would be hell to pay.

"It would be best if you deliver me to my destination, unless you've an urge to hang high."

The captain said, "Pleased to make your acquaintance Mistress Watkins, Captain Jack of the Black Albatross at your service mi'lady"

He walked close to her, tilted his head a bit to one side, and touched her wet shift exactly on her left nipple, watching her eyes. She jumped, her cheeks flushed pink, and her pupils dilated a fraction.

With a chuckle, "Indeed you truly are a maiden. Rara avis in these parts."

He stroked his beard, formulating a plan. "We may yet salvage something from these unfortunate circumstances. The master of your vessel chose to resist when I called him to heave to. Then it appears a ball from our bow cannon exploded his magazine. And her cargo and all souls but you were lost. Not much either of us can do about that now."

Then he returned to his charts, making soft graphite marks, and measurements with a compass. He pulled a cord dangling overhead and moments later a sailor appeared. "Alter course to west south west. We make for Kingston."

Penelope gasped when he touched her, but tried not to show the forbidden thrill it gave her. No man had ever touched her there. To her horror, the nipple hardened further, responsive to the beast of a man. Though she was approaching her wedding night, she knew little of what went on between a man and a woman behind closed doors. Lady Watkins had only said that Sir Rodney would happily teach her all she needed to know.

That is, if she made it to him intact. She have a silent prayer and watched as the Captain spoke to one of his sailors, charting a course to the new destination. She almost sighed with relief.

Penny extended her neck regally and cleared her throat.

"Now then. Perhaps you could untie me, Captain?"

"Before I loose your bonds, I want you to understand that beyond that door there is a crew of 18 men. They are frustrated that there is no spoils to share, no money for whores in the next port. You might find a way to escape this chamber - you would never get off the boat. But by the time they had finished with you, being a sharks dinner would seem a much better fate. Be clear that I am offering you a chance to avoid death preceded by unspeakable horrors."

"There is a price on my head from the Spaniards, the Dutch, the French, and the English. They have sought me for many years and never captured me. If I caught I would hang - no matter what Sir Rodney does or does not say."

"I am however a man of my word and I give you my word you will not be harmed in any way on board my ship, if you comply with a few simple requests. And get used to this chamber, here you must stay to be safe on board." Jack smiled with some irony when he saw her eyes widen and a slight squirm. "I do not want your virginity, I want to convert this fiasco into gold for my shipmates and myself."

He moved behind her and slit the ropes binding her wrists, then tossed the stilletto point first into the deck an inch from her feet, and turned his back walking back to his charts saying "Free yourself"

Penelope scowled at his back, flexing her wrists. She was relieved that she had his protection, but she was not used to such bluntness. He had no nuance, just plain speech. Her skin burned from where the ropes had cut into it, leaving little red bracelets of pain. The pale smoothness was not used to any rough treatment at all, not even labor, much less torture.

She leaned forward and yanked the knife from the floorboards. Her damp hair swung forward, partially obscuring her vision as she sawed at the ropes binding her feet. Once free, she stood shakily.

"I understand your requirements. I will however need a bath and clothes, it is indecent of you to keep a lady thus."

Jack laughed, "Indeed you are indecent m'lady. We will both be more comfortable with you in dry clothes. I have nothing such as you are accustomed to, but you may rummage in my trunk there and choose what you will. You will find men's shirts, breeches, hose, and a jacket. Sized to fit me."

"As far as a bath is concerned we have barely enough fresh water for drinking and cooking. None to spare at the moment."

He hung a blanket from his bunk from a cord at the side of his cabin. "You may change behind this."

And returned to his charts.

Seeing that he considered the conversation over, Penelope turned to the trunk. She fought tears as she rummaged through the selection--how demeaning, to have to wear men's clothes. All her lovely gowns, finely brocaded and expensive, at the bottom of the sea. Forcing her mind away from the loss, she chose a shirt, breeches, sturdy hose, and a vest. She took then behind the makeshift dressing area.

They all hung loosely, of course. Penny was grateful there was no looking glass, since she knew she appeared ridiculous. Sir Rodney will save you, she told herself, making it a mantra. She pulled her hair back with a stray end of the ropes that had tied her wrist, pulling her fingers through it to untangle the best she could.

It would all have to do.

"Mistress I must mention you are in a difficult situation. Normally I might just let the men have at you. By sunrise you would welcome the sharks when you were thrown overboard."

"But I think we may yet get a ransom for you, and being a man of my word I will keep you protected. So, I have put out parchment and quill and ink. I presume you can read and write. Pen a letter to Sir Rodney. Explain your situation, and that the skipper of this vessel would ransom you for 1000 English Pounds. If he is agreeable he should say so by return letter, and we will get a message to him of a port to make to with a small boat. No tricks, all he will find at the first port is instructions to the next port, if he keeps his part of the bargain."

"And no tricks from you m'lady, I can read and write as well, as you can see from me using these charts."

Truth was all he could read were the letters on the compass rose, and the numbers where they indicated depths, and the names of a few places. But he was sure she would not call his bluff.

Penelope didn't believe him. She didn't believe he would let his men have their way with any vulnerable woman and she didn't believe he could read well. She couldn't say how she knew either of those things, but she kept get mouth shut on both subjects. And she began to wonder what he had been before he was the feared Captain Jack who stood before her now.

She put her hands in her hips, her breasts jiggling without any corset to hold them.

"A thousand pounds! You're mad. I will not extort my future husband."

"It is I who is extorting him, not you. You are simply conveying my message. A letter from you would surely be more convincing than a lock of your hair and that ring on your right hand. I need convince him that we have you and that you are unharmed. If we had harmed you, you would never write such a letter. I am surprised you do not think yourself worth 1000 pounds."

"If however it is your decision not to help yourself, then I think I would have my way with you first. It is many years since I have had the pleasure of deflowering a virgin."

Jack rose from his table and stood close. very close, his hands gripped her waist. His strength easily overpowered her and she could not squirm away. His eyes began to cloud with lust.

Penelope went tense, hips freezing under his rough hands.

"How dare you, sir."

She struggled in vain, her expression fiery, eyes so blue they were nearly silver. She pushed at his clamped grip.

"I know am worth far more than that, in fact. But if you think I will stoop to writing a letter putting a price on my own head, then you are surely without a shred of honor."

"There is honor among theives, more than amongst the nobility of England, who steal from the poor calling it birthright."

He took her hand roughly and pulled off the small gold little finger ring. Looked at it carefully. "Your family crest I suppose. And 'PAW' inside. Penelope Anne Watkins. Or is it not Anne?" He picked up his stilletto from where she dropped it, and cut a lock of her hair, released her, folded both in a scrap of parchment, and locked the package in a drawer of his chart desk.

He stared at the shape of her breasts, disguised somewhat by the loose folds of the oversized shirt she wore, then shook his head quickly, dismissing the thought.

"It is in your best interest to convince him to ransom you. Otherwise I shall sell you at the white slave market. Once they inspect and confirm your virginity, you will bring far more than 1000 pounds. But we are close to Jamaica, and I would be rid of you as soon as possible. Consider carefully m'lady."

Penny turned her face away after his diatribe. He was right, it was Anne, but she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that. She would not give him any satisfaction at all. She stared down at the ridge on her hand, the smooth band of skin where he had taken her ring. It had not been off her hand since her eighteenth birthday, five years ago, when her father had given it to her.

Would she ever even see him again?

She crossed her arms and paced to a porthole, silently looking out. She could not see anything in the darkness and fog. She had been wrong about Captain Jack's capacity for kindness. So wrong.

She took a breath.

"I will require a quill and parchment."

He opened a different drawer and set out a quill, a bottle of ink, and a sheet of parchment. Then opened the door and called, "Jason!"

Moments later one of the sailors that had bought her in the first place appeared.

"Bring us some victuals. Cook has some roasted lamb I think." He went to a drawer and produced two tin cups. Filled each with a portion from a small cask, then topped them with water.

"It is not the fine wine you are accustomed to, but this grog will warm you." He set one cup down by the parchment. He wished he could . . . And dismissed the thought. Set his mind to plotting how to get the message delivered. Safely.

Such a beautiful curve to her shoulders.

Penelope's voice was soft, cut off, and she did not touch the drink.

"Thank you."

She was withdrawing into herself, seeing the hopelessness of her situation. And why should she trust anything he gave her? She was a captive, not a guest. She dipped the quill into the ink and began the task at hand.

Lord Chichester,
I am unharmed and aboard a ship helmed by one Captain Jack. He requests £1000 for my release. The ship that was to carry me was lost to these pirates.

She glanced up, but the Captain was not looking at her. How much should she say, how much could she risk...

And why did it look like there was far more behind the pirate's eyes than he let on?

He glanced over her shoulder and seeing how much she had written, made a guess.

"Go on, and advise him if he agrees, tell my messenger. The messenger will tell him where to send a small ship with the ransom. Once my men have verified the ransom, he will be told where he may find you."

He cleared the charts, and presently the mate brought two bowls of thick soup, with large chunks of roast lamb and carrots.

He laughed "I invite you to share the Captain's table, meager though it may be."

To his first mate he whispered so she could not hear, "Dress us as an English merchantman, but fly the yellow jack from our gaff." Seeing the mate look at her in panic he added, "No she is not feverish, but we pretend cholera on board so we avoid inspections. I intend to anchor in Kingston harbor." The mate looked even more uncomfortable when he heard the plan, but simply said "Aye aye sir." And leered at Penelope.

Loudly, "Any man so much as touches Mistress Watkins will lose the part of his body that touched her. Am I clear?"

"Aye, aye sir."

"Dismissed."

Penelope set about finishing the letter as he had ordered and then sat down at his table. The food smelled surprisingly good and she realized she was starving. She was also exhausted, but she doubted sleep would come to her aboard this vessel.

She was startled when the Captain so forcefully reprimanded his sailor, just for looking at her. Apparently he was serious about delivering her intact. She said a silent prayer of thanks that she would not have to add being bodily violated to the list of horrors she had already endured.

Penny folded her hands, though she doubted any etiquette was observed here. Still, she found that her breeding would not allow her to eat before bidden to do so.

Noticing her hands folded in her lap and her head nodded, "I do not say grace before a meal, but if you wish to, you may." He waited a few moments, then moved his spoon away from him through the thick soup to take up some meat, noiselessly chewing and swallowing. She sat still.

"Please, start"

He thought 'Finally she is deferring to me. This may end well after all.'

"You may use my bunk. I will show you how to fit the lee cloth once you are in to make sure you do not fall out when the ship rolls. I will hang a hammock over there, mayhap my snoring will not disturb your delicate ears." And grinned to himself.

Wordlessly they finished the meal. He was pleased she was quiet, he liked to enjoy his food and chatter was not needed.

"For your toilet m'lady take that pail behind the blanket. Put it outside the door when you are done, crew will empty it. I must make my rounds of the ship. Take care you do not open the door for anyone but me. There is a bolt you can slide across once I have left."

Jack stood up, put on his belt and sword, and touched his forehead, "With your leave, m'lady"

Penelope simmered silently as she ate. He seemed pleased with it; it even seemed to improve his mood. It just made her angrier, on the other hand. Wretched man. She would never give into his will, no matter what he chose to believe. She just needed to bide her time until someone rescued her.

She watched him leave, then slid the bolt right after him. Resisting the urge to sob, she looked frantically around the room. Perhaps there was something in his personal effects that could be of help to her.

Something that she could use as leverage. As blackmail. If she had secrets, he might be forced to release her without demanding money.

The captain walked forward, then used the head at the bow. He checked the rigging and sail trim, ordered a couple of minor changes that eased their motion but increased speed. He double checked the disguises the mate had set up. They were now the Partridge out of Cornwall, flying the English merchant ensign. Yellow flag fluttering below it. Once anchored the master of the port would send basic supplies and water by towing a longboat alongside them, hoping they would leave sooner than later. The longboat would be burned after.

He leaned on the rail looking out over the dark ocean. He thought about how she looked, so beautiful, so fragile yet with an iron core. She would be wasted on Sir Rodney. He only was interested in profits. Ran his plantations with slaves. Jack doubted she would have much more freedom than a slave once married. And heaven help her if she did not produce an heir. Her predecessor had mysteriously vanished, never having any but girls, and now Rodney was freed by the church to marry again.

Jack allowed himself to undress her iin his mind. But when his body started to respond, he snarled at the cabin boy for sloppy dress and ordered him to sharpen up or next time feel the flat of his sword. Then made his way back aft to his cabin.

Penny rifled frantically, but his maps gave no clue to the man himself. All of the drawers were locked; he was very careful. Odd, paired with his rough exterior. He was clearly intelligent, but he did not have any books--nor any notes or even letters. She did not suppose pirates went in much for bills of sale.

There was a knock at the door. She had learned nothing in her time alone, nothing except the fact that she was intrigued by the bounder. She pushed it down, focusing again on his capture of her, his ruthlessness.

He was the villain, and the villain was knocking.

"Identify yourself," she said loudly.

Captain Jack at your service m'lady. She slipped the bolt and let him in. Jack went straight to the oil lamp swinging in over the chart table and lit it. He made a few notes on the chart.

"If the winds hold fair we shall be Kingston harbor forenoon tomorrow. And by the next day you shall be with Sir Rodney and I will be dividing up £1000 with my crew, and having with no regrets said goodbye to you. And you feel the same about us, but fate cast us this game and we must play it through."

"Make yourself comfortable in my bunk. These are the ties for the lee cloth. Make them fast to the eyes in the deck head, pardon me, the ceiling for a landlubber such as you. If the ship rolls the cloth will save falling out to the sole, what you call the floor."

With that he rigged his hammock, extinguished the light, climbed in, and tried not to think about the beautiful maiden in his bunk a few feet away. The ship creaked and groaned, rolling and pitching in the freshening breeze.