Chapter 1

 

May 1694, English Harbor, Antigua

 

How could any sane woman enjoy being a trollop? Surely it was the most demeaning trade ever imagined. Adjusting her over-tight corset, Reena Charlisse Hyde, daughter of Captain Edmund Merrick Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, had hoped the night would conceal what her wench’s dress would not. She was not so fortunate. The seaman sitting across from her in the jolly boat had not stopped staring at her chest since they’d left the docks. How she longed to slap the drool-soaked leer from his face. Instead, she flung her unbound dark hair over her exposed skin. It did naught to sever the locked aim of his gaze. The poor man seemed in a trance. She glanced at the officer sitting at the head of the boat, then at the four sailors rowing on either side, and finally at the ten trollops perched upon the thwarts, giggling and chattering like a harem of geese. Would anyone notice if she pushed the seaman overboard just for the enjoyment? If only to put the poor man out of his misery. She smiled at the thought. Which he must have taken as encouragement, for his gaze lifted from her chest to her face, ever so briefly, returning her smile. Holding back the sudden urge to vomit, Reena snapped her gaze away and spotted a shadowy hulk rising from the dark waters of the bay.

HMS Viper.

Her destination. And where her beloved Freddy was—the man she intended to marry.

Lanterns winked at her from fore- and main-masts, adding a modicum of light to the half-moon that dribbled milky foam over rippling wavelets. The scent of brine, moist wood, unwashed men, and cheap perfume curled Reena’s nose. Behind her, on shore, stood the ominous stone walls of Fort Berkeley and beyond, the town of Antigua, nothing but shadows at the midnight hour.

The sailors pushed the oars through the water, grunting and groaning and splashing a few of the trollops. They only giggled louder. Were they truly happy to be servicing a bunch of stench-encrusted, ignorant sailors? Nay. Reena glanced over their faces—at least what the moonlight would afford—and decided it was all a farce, an act which they had to perform in order to survive. Her stomach soured at the thought, and she reached down to ensure the pistol was still strapped to her left thigh and the knife to her right. They were.

The sailor’s eyes were still on her chest.

Women had so few options in this world for survival. How much better was it to be a pirate than a prostitute? If she had the time, she’d recruit these ladies to join her crew on board the Reckless—as she’d done with Jo—and give them a chance to be free, independent, and beholden to no man. She didn’t have the time.

The hail came from HMS Viper, and the “Oars up” command from the officer at the prow echoed over the waters. The sailors lifted the tips of their oars above their heads as the boat drifted to thud against the thick hull of the Royal Navy Ship of the Line.

Reena should be frightened. She wasn’t. Instead, she was beyond excited to finally see Freddy. How long had it been? A year, two months, and five days. Seemed like she’d spent an eternity tracking him across the West Indies.

A rope ladder was tossed overboard. The officer climbed aboard as two men peered over the railing from above.

“Come now, ladies, Get yer bums up and be off to yer night o’ pleasure.” One of the sailors in the boat chuckled as he assisted the first trollop. The craft wobbled beneath her rather excessive weight, but she managed to grab hold of the rope and hoist herself up. The sailor slapped her on the bottom as she ascended.

The second woman smiled his way. “Yer a wry one, ain’t ye?”

“I’ll show ye just how wry if ye’ll wait for me atop.” He shoved her, taking liberties once again with his hands.

Reena stood, gained her balance, slapped away the hands that reached for her, and proceeded toward the ladder. If the foul sailor touched her bottom, he’d find a knife in his gut.

Gritting her teeth, she followed the last woman, who seemed to be having trouble remaining upright in the teetering boat. Two of the sailors reached to assist her, and Reena took the opportunity to skirt around them, leap onto the side of the rope, and skitter up like the pirate she was.

Amid the laughter, the men made a lurid comment about how anxious she was to take her pleasure.

But she didn’t care. She was on the deck of a Royal Navy ship. Much easier than she thought.

Sailors and marines on watch glanced toward the women, and she scanned their faces, looking for her love. Not there. Even so, her heart rate ratcheted, knowing he was close. She allowed herself to be herded with the other women down a ladder to the berth. But before they even landed on the deck below, a horde of sailors, reeking of rum and sweat, advanced toward them like starving dogs to slabs of meat.

She pushed through the throng, slapping away groping hands as she went, peering at faces—most of which leered back at her as if she were a chest full of gold. The chink of money being exchanged echoed through the dank air as some of the sailors retreated with their prizes to the corners. Others sulked to sit in chairs and wait their turn, while others played cards, seemingly uninterested. Someone began playing a fiddle and men gathered around to sing.

Freddy was nowhere to be seen.

Two sailors approached, their eyes scouring over her like holystones on a deck. She shook her head and gave them the look she oft gave her crew—the one that sent them scurrying to task in fear. It had the same effect on these men.

With a frustrated sigh, she turned and surveyed the rest of the deck, purposely avoiding the harlots entangled with their men.

Where are you, Freddy? She didn’t know how much longer she could remain amidst such sordid activities. Had her information been wrong? Had he received a commission instead of being tossed down with the common sailors?

She proceeded toward the far corner, weaving around chairs, tables, and hammocks. More hands reached for her, more salacious offers flung her way.

Finally she came to the end of the row of hammocks and peered around a temporary bulkhead. Lantern light flickered over a man sitting on the floor, his back against the hull, his head dipped into a book.

Freddy! He looked good. Healthy, strong…her Freddy!

In one swift move, she dashed toward him and lowered to her knees by his side. Then before he could even look up, she fell against his chest. His book flew to the side. Air expelled from his lungs in a grunt. She drew in a deep breath of him, his scent of leather, oak, and moss, sparking memories of happier times—laughter and love and adventure.

“Miss! Miss!” He shifted beneath her and grabbed her arms.

Unable to control herself, she showered his face with kiss after kiss.

“Miss!” He shoved her back and shot to his feet. His gaze landed on her chest, and he looked away. “I’m not interested. Find another sailor.”

“I do not want another sailor. I want you, Freddy.”

The grunts and groans, laughter and music faded into the background as Freddy slowly and methodically turned to stare at her. Inky black hair hung to his shoulders in stormy waves, dark stubble clung to his chin and circled lips that now flattened in disbelief—or was it frustration? He blinked, his eyes the color of sea moss, assessing her as if she were a monster risen from the deep. She had hoped to see pleasure…excitement…in their depths, but instead they narrowed yet again.

“Reena! What are you doing here?”

She stared at him, hurt and dumbfounded. “Faith now, Freddy! I’m here to rescue you.”

♥♥♥

 

“Rescue me? Thunderation!” Frederick raked his hair back and stared at the woman sitting on the deck by his feet, the woman he’d been trying to avoid—had successfully avoided for over a year. “I have no need of rescuing, Reena!” Reluctantly, he offered her his hand.

Her fingers wrapped around his and she stood, a captivating smile curving her lips—the one that always made him agree to anything she wanted. “Of course you need rescuing, Freddy.” She eased beside him. Her eyes—the color of a gold doubloon and just as brilliant—stared up at him with an innocence he knew was a farce.

She smelled of coconut and lavender… a refreshing change from sweat and bilge water. He breathed it in as memories swirled about him, stirring him, soul and body. Nay. He nudged her back.

She pouted, then released a sigh. “You cannot honestly be happy on this ship. In this navy with all the rules and regulations and—”

A sailor stumbled past the bulkhead, a giggling trollop in his arms. He dove his head into her neck, grunting and groaning like a pig at trough, before he glanced up and saw Frederick.

“Apologies, Preach.” He smiled like a boy caught at mischief, then dragged the woman to a corner.

Other unsavory sounds emanated from across the deck, and Reena scrunched her nose. “Such baseborn behavior!”

He frowned. “When did baseborn behavior ever offend you, Reena?”

She laid a hand on her heart. “Ouch, you wound me, Freddy. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

She truly did look wounded. And lovely. And beautiful as always with her silky hair spilling to her waist like a mahogany waterfall, her regal cheekbones, full lips that were now pouting again, and those glistening almond-shaped eyes edged by a forest of lashes. But he knew better than to let her beauty appeal to his manly instincts to protect, to defend. This woman was as strong and determined as any man. Which is why he’d had to leave her—to run as far away from her as he could.

Before she destroyed him.

Against his will, his gaze lowered to the creamy mounds protruding from her low neckline. He slammed his eyes shut and rubbed them. “Why are you dressed like a harlot?”

“How else was I to get on board?” She shrugged. “And why did that man call you ‘Preach’?”

Frederick stooped to pick up his Bible, closed it, and brushed off the fine leather cover. “Because that’s what I am to these men. I preach the Word of God to them.”

She cocked her head and smiled as the grunts of carousal continued all around them—laughter, a discordant fiddle, curses, and what sounded like fisticuffs in the distance. “’Twould seem they haven’t quite embraced your godly admonitions.”

Frederick growled. He wanted to tell her he’d been making progress, that several of the men had turned from their wicked ways. But in truth, he was not sure he’d been doing any good at all. Another sign of his failure in God’s eyes.

“Forsooth, you’re fooling yourself if you think to follow in our parents’ footsteps,” she continued, placing a hand on her hip. “We are not like them, Freddy. No amount of Bible reading and preaching is going to change that.”

He grabbed the cross around his neck, seeking solace…and wisdom. And mostly strength to resist this woman, who from the leap of his heart, still owned a piece of it.

“We have to get you off this ship,” he said.

“My thoughts exactly. I have a plan.” She peeked around the bulkhead across the deck before facing him with the confidence of any captain. “We both go above and then I—”

“Nay.” Frederick groaned. “We do not do anything. I am staying. You are leaving.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She looked at him as if he’d told her the moon was made of cotton. “I did not come all this way to leave without you.” She grabbed his arm and leaned in to whisper. “I will distract the watchman while you slip overboard. You can still swim, can you not?”

Frederick set down his Bible and shrugged from her grip, if only to keep her touch from driving him to distraction. “I have a better idea. You stay with me until the women are done, and then you will leave with them.”

She flattened those luscious lips of hers. He could see her mind spinning behind her eyes, forming a plan. A devious one, no doubt, from the expression of victory that claimed her features. But then her face softened, and she waved a hand through the air. “Very well.”

She looked up at him, and if he didn’t know her well, he’d think tears were forming in her eyes. She fumbled with a lock of her hair and lowered her gaze. “I shall just have to resort to drastic measures.”

“What drastic measures?”

“Why, throw myself overboard, of course.”

“You cannot swim.” He blew out a sigh and stared at her. “If I don’t come with you, you intend to kill yourself? Come, now, such feminine theatrics are beneath you.”

He’d meant it as sarcasm, but her expression grew serious. “I would do anything to have you, Freddy.”

“Frederick.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You love yourself too much, Reena. And you are far too strong a woman to end your life like a coward.”

“We shall see.” Then grabbing her skirts, she spun on her heels and disappeared behind the bulkhead.

“Thunderation!” Frederick started after her, but she had already vanished into the mob of sailors dancing and carousing like schoolboys in their first brothel. Averting his eyes from the debauchery, he shoved his way through, ignoring the curses they spit in his wake. Up the ladder, a blast of salty wind struck his face as he scanned the shadowy deck. Where had she gone?

There. Talking to Midshipman Wilson. But why? Glancing over her shoulder, she pointed in his direction. Against his every inclination, he marched toward her, hoping he wouldn’t incur too much punishment for being above deck at this hour.

Wilson frowned, nudged Reena aside, and started toward him. But it was the smug look on Reena’s face that gave Frederick pause, that all-too-familiar look of victory that always preceded some impending disaster of her own making.

Before he could do or say anything, she darted for the bulwarks, gripped the ratlines, turned and smiled his way…

And jumped overboard.

Frederick’s heart seized.

The splash halted Midshipman Wilson and sent him to peer over the railing. Frederick stripped off his shoes and waistcoat and joined him.

“What in the…?” Wilson was gaping at the dark water.

Grinding his teeth in frustration and knowing full well he was making a huge mistake, Frederick leapt on the railing and dove into the bay.