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Pirate's Daughter, Rebel Wife
Pirate's Daughter, Rebel Wife

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Pirate's Daughter, Rebel Wife

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Joe grinned. ‘I’m not sure what that means, but he’s the best captain to work for that I know. Now I’ll have to be going or he’ll be wondering what I’m up to.’

Bridget would have liked to have heard more of the captain’s exploits, but did not wish to keep the youth from his work. ‘I would like some warm water, Joe, and if you could fetch my clothes I’d be very grateful,’ she said persuasively.

‘Certainly, the captain had me wash and dry them.’

She said softly, ‘You are kind.’

He flushed to the roots of his hair. ‘My pleasure, mistress,’ he mumbled, and hurried from the bedchamber.

Bridget ate the bread and cheese and drained the cup of wine and water, marvelling that the captain and Joe had survived such adventures. She wondered why, if the captain was English, was he staying here and plying his trade between this island and Lisbon instead of returning home? If her father and Captain Black Harry were not to be found on Madeira it was possible that they might not be because more than a year had passed since his ship had been seen here—then she must try to persuade him to take her to Lisbon. It was possible that she might find news of her father in that bustling city. She wished Joe would hurry and bring her clothes.

However, it was the captain who knocked at the door before announcing his presence and coming into the bedchamber when she bid him enter. He was carrying a basin and had a drying cloth over his arm.

‘Where are my clothes?’ she blurted out. ‘I want to get dressed and out of this bed.’

‘I am glad to hear you say that, mistress, but are you certain you are well enough to do so? I am having a search made for your father, but if he cannot be found, I am at a loss what to do with you once you are recovered. I will be leaving Madeira soon.’ He placed the basin on the table and the drying cloth on the bed.

‘When will you be leaving?’ she asked, sitting up straight. ‘Joe told me that you are here for the sugarcane harvest. If you are to find my father, surely it would be of help to you to have the name of the ship he sailed on? It is called Thor’s Hammer and was last seen anchored in the harbour at Funchal.’

Harry shot her a glance. ‘So it was only Thor’s Hammer that your informant saw?’

‘Aye!’ Her brow knit, thinking it sounded as if he thought there should be another ship. ‘It belongs to a mariner known as Captain Black Harry. He and my father set out almost two years ago in search of a northwest passage to the Indies in the wake of the voyage made by John Cabot. I was expecting my father to return last year, but he never did so.’

Harry frowned. ‘Who told you that the ship could be found here?’

‘A mariner in London.’

Harry drew up a chair and sat down. ‘It does not necessary follow that your father was on that ship.’

She gripped a handful of the bedclothes convulsively. ‘Are you saying that he could have been on the Odin’s Maiden instead? That’s the name of Captain Black Harry’s other ship.’

He hesitated. ‘It is possible. You must accept, Mistress McDonald, that ocean voyages hold great risk for mariners and explorers.’

She had paled. ‘I am not a fool. But Cabot returned, so why shouldn’t my father?’

‘Why not, indeed?’ said Harry, knowing that Cabot had not returned from his second voyage. He went over to the window and gazed out. ‘But I have to be honest with you and tell you in the light of what you have told me that I do not believe your father to be on this island. I, too, have journeyed to the New World and your father went missing the same time as Odin’s Maiden. This was fifteen, sixteen months or more ago.’

Bridget stared at the captain’s broad back in bewilderment. ‘What are you saying? That you knew my father? If that is so, why did you not tell me earlier?’

‘You have been ill and out of your mind and I didn’t immediately know your identity and that you were searching for Callum.’

‘Were you on either ship?’

‘Aye, I was a shipmate of your father’s at one time and that is how I became acquainted with him.’

‘Then you will know Captain Black Harry, too?’

Harry wondered how long it would be before it occurred to her that he and Black Harry could be one and the same. He was not looking forward to that moment and was determined to delay it as long as possible. He would wager a gold coin that she would blame him for Callum going missing!

He turned and faced her. ‘Your father and the captain quarrelled. The captain was keen to sail further south along the coast of the New World, but your father was not.’

‘Why not?’ Her eyes were intent on his face.

‘I assume it was because Callum had no taste for such a venture. I deem he realised that we were not going to find the passage to the Indies or make our fortunes, so he decided to return home. The captain, on the other hand, was keen to speak to the Portuguese explorers who had knowledge of the southern ocean and its winds and currents. Your father chose to disobey his orders and, I suspect, stole Odin’s Maiden from the captain to make his own way home.’

‘My father is no thief!’ she said indignantly.

Harry raised his eyebrows. ‘He was once a pirate, woman, so how can you say that? When did you leave home? It is possible that you and your father missed each other by a cat’s whisker.’

Bridget was mortified that this man knew something of her father’s past life and said stiffly, ‘I left London last May. I know what you are thinking—why has it taken me so long to get here?’ Her expression was strained.

‘I know why. You have forgotten that you told me that you were sold by a pirate to the slave trader whose ship you escaped from.’

‘That is true. I had forgotten,’ said Bridget, putting a hand to her head. ‘A slave trader who could be on this island and looking for me right now.’ Her voice trembled. ‘He paid good money for me and might not wish to lose out on his investment.’

Harry said, ‘He could also be dead or have already left these waters. As for your father and Odin’s Maiden, a mariner can always think of reasons why a ship should be delayed. A storm can blow a vessel miles off course and if a ship survives the storm, it can still be damaged, making repairs necessary. If the materials are not to hand, then the ship would need to limp into the nearest harbour, perhaps to remain there for weeks on end.’

‘You’re saying that this could have happened to Odin’s Maiden and my father might have arrived home after I left,’ said Bridget eagerly. ‘Although, you cannot know for certain that my father stole the ship,’ she added swiftly.

Harry said, ‘Where else could they have both gone, along with a complete crew of men? No doubt he knew that you would be worried about him and wished to be reunited with you. He told me of his affection for his daughter, Bridget.’

Suddenly Bridget’s eyes were shiny with tears. ‘I can accept that as a possible reason why my father might have taken the ship. It is also possible that he might never have reached Scotland and be at the bottom of the ocean.’ Her voice broke on a sob.

Harry said bracingly, ‘You would give up hope so soon? He could have wintered at New–found–land, an island discovered by Cabot, whose waters are teeming with fish. This would have delayed his setting out for home.’

Bridget fought back another sob and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I will try to believe that is what happened, but if he was to search for me at my uncle’s house in Scotland, then he would not have found me. He would need to go to London.’

‘Why London?’

‘Because that is where I was taken by my Uncle Ranald, my father’s treacherous brother, after my aunt died. He decided to visit his mistress, Lady Appleby, in the north of England, and because her elder son lived in London and she wished to see him, they forced me to go with them.’

Harry wondered if this was the son she had mentioned earlier in her delirium. ‘Why did they do this?’

‘They believed I knew where my father’s hoard was and would not accept that it had been stolen by an Irish brigand, Patrick O’Malley.’ Her eyes darkened. ‘If only we had not met Captain Black Harry in Ireland, who took my father away to the Indies without me, how different my life would have turned out.’ Bridget scrubbed at her damp eyes. ‘I would that you would leave me now.’

Harry was tempted to say that if she had not met him, then she might have been recaptured by Patrick O’Malley and what would have happened to her then? Instead he left her to her toilette.

Bridget so wished she knew if her father was alive or dead. Callum usually drank far too much when life dealt him a blow and then he could be reckless in the extreme. She had believed her presence had helped rein in some of his excesses and that was another reason why she had wanted to accompany him on Black Harry’s ship. Yet when Callum was sober, he was an excellent seaman and she had learnt much about handling a ship and commanding men by watching him.

She washed her face and hands and then dried them on the cloth. At least she knew more about her father than when she had arrived here. She must cling to the hope that he was still alive. She was also a free woman, so should rejoice in that and keep her spirits up. She still feared the slave trader appearing on the scene despite the captain telling her that she was safe with him. No doubt in the eyes of the Portuguese she belonged to that beast and the law would be on his side if he were to catch her again. The captain, being a foreigner on this island, might come off worse if he were to defend her. She had to get off this island as soon possible and look for her father elsewhere. As for Captain Black Harry, she would ask her host if he knew what had happened to him since his ship had been seen in Madeira last year.

Chapter Three

Harry swung into the saddle, determined not to blame himself for all that had befallen Bridget since they had parted in Ireland. Yet it was true that if he had not been prepared to pay her passage to Scotland in order for her to stay with her uncle and aunt, then her life would have been different. He remembered wanting to kiss Bridget’s luscious mouth when they had first met. Even later when she had insulted him, he had wanted to grab a handful of that red hair of hers that was aflame as if it had caught fire from the sparks that seemed to fly from her in her rage and disappointment and kiss her soundly. How very different both their lives would have been if he had surrendered to his desire. But he still thought he had been right to not take her aboard his ship. A man needed to be totally focused to survive on such a perilous journey.

Harry frowned. He had little faith in Callum having survived the northern ocean in autumn despite his having told Bridget to keep her hopes alive. He was going to have to take responsibility for her, but if she knew he was Captain Black Harry, he sensed she might do something desperate rather than accept his help. She would very likely run away from him and end up in further trouble. He had to think up a plan that would ensure her safety, not just for the next week or two, but for the future. In the meantime he had to ensure that she did not realise he was the man she appeared to despise.

Bridget stirred, wondering what had disturbed her sleep. She could hear a bird singing and eased herself into a sitting position. She had been dreaming of Captain Black Harry and it was not anger she had felt, but a wild excitement. She supposed it was to be expected that she would dream of him now she was here on Madeira where his ship had last been seen. Where was he now? There had been a time after he and her father had set sail when she could not get him out of her mind.

This latest dream had shocked her and she could only believe that her mind was playing tricks on her. There was no way that she would ever take Black Harry as a lover after what he’d done to her.

Besides, she knew the man’s real identity, which was one of the reasons she had set out in search of him and her father, as Harry himself was unaware of it. She had initially been accompanied by Lady Elizabeth Stanley, who had befriended her when she was in London, her ladyship’s maid, Hannah, and Joshua Wood, a childhood friend of Black Harry, whose real name had turned out to be Harry Appleby. Shockingly, he was heir to a manor in Lancashire and a house and business in London, so no doubt he would not consider her good enough for him. How could she even imagine him making love to her in the light of all these facts? She must be mad!

Her eyes roamed the room and she noticed that the bowl and drying cloth had been removed. She must have fallen into a deep sleep, indeed, to have been unaware of the captain or Joe’s entry. How long had she slept? She needed to speak to the captain. What was his name? Her wits had indeed gone begging for her not to have asked that simple question.

She heard voices outside and looked towards the window. The shutters were wide open, allowing sunlight and a flower–scented breeze into the room, along with birdsong. She wanted to be up and doing and longed to be outside in the fresh air. Suddenly she noticed her green gown and silk shift on the chest and her face lit up. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

Her knees shook and she realised that she was still weak from her illness, but, by holding on to the bed, she managed to reach its foot and sank down on to the chest. Her fingers fastened on the skirt of her gown and she drew it towards her, along with her shift. She held them to her face and breathed in the smell of the ocean breeze and that of lavender. She wasted no more time, but dragged off the captain’s shirt and hastened to pull the shift over her head. It proved more difficult putting on her gown, due to the weight of its skirts.

Once dressed, Bridget felt much better, so decided to unbraid her hair and let it hang loose. If only she had the company of another female to help wash and comb it. She had spent most of her childhood with women until her Irish mother, Mary, had died and her father had taken her with him on his ship, due to his fear of her being abducted by one of the rival Irish clans. She recalled her excitement and had looked forward to a more interesting life. She’d had to familiarise herself with his ship and become accustomed to all–male company. The crew had spoilt her and she had come to feel less awkward in the company of men, to love the sea and visiting new places. She had admired her big strong red–haired father, but never forgot the long weeks that she and her mother had spent waiting for his return from sea. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of all that was lost to her. She could very likely be an orphan now.

There came a knock on the door. ‘May I come in?’

Bridget recognised the captain’s voice and her heart leapt. Swiftly she wiped her face, not wanting him to consider her a weak female. It had been a mistake, thinking of the past. It was the present and future that were important. She must persuade this man to help her further.

‘Please do, Captain,’ she called.

The door opened and he stood, gazing at her with an expression in his indigo eyes that brought a blush to her cheeks. ‘You are dressed and looking much improved in health, Mistress McDonald. I deem that you are almost fit to leave this place,’ he said.

The colour drained from her face; it appeared to her that he would be rid of her that day and she was not ready to cope alone just yet. Despite her wanting to be up and doing, this house had proved to be a safe haven. How could she possibly manage alone and penniless in a foreign land?

She cleared her throat. ‘I do understand, Captain, your wanting to be rid of me because you have your business to attend to—but I must confess my limbs are still a little weak. I much appreciate your hospitality. I only wish I could reimburse you, but I have no money. Yet if you are prepared to continue to help me, then I will see that you are rewarded.’

‘I ask for no reward,’ he said abruptly. ‘You look pale and still need to rest.’

‘I am better than I was,’ she murmured, tilting her chin.

There was a silence.

‘You are English, Captain, and have told me that you were one of my father’s shipmates. Does that mean you were once a pirate, too?’

Harry stiffened. ‘Never.’

She flushed with embarrassment for she felt as if she had insulted him. She cleared her throat. ‘May I ask why you decided to live here on Madeira? You never thought of sailing home with my father?’

‘No, he never took me into his confidence before he disappeared. By the purest stroke of luck, I was able to perform a service to the owner of this villa whilst on the other side of the world. There was a skirmish with the natives and I saved his life. We conversed and discovered we had a common ambition, so that is why I set sail in company with him and his companions for Madeira.’

‘What was this ambition of yours?’ she asked.

‘I wished to sail around the coast of Africa to the Indies. I hope that answer will suffice for the moment. Right now I would know more about you and how you came to be captured by pirates.

She sighed and plucked at her skirts. ‘When I set out from London in search of my father, I had three companions and we were accompanied by another ship. Unfortunately the vessels were separated by a storm and our ship was attacked by pirates. Our captain was killed and so were several members of the crew.’

He frowned. ‘And your companions?’

‘Certainly, owing to her station, Lady Elizabeth should have been ransomed, but I do not know what might have happened to Hannah, her maid, and Joshua Wood, who was also in her service. I was separated from them, you see. They remained on the captured ship and I was taken on to the pirates’ vessel to be sold to the slavers.’

‘It is possible Joshua Wood might have been forced to join the pirates.’

‘I see.’ Bridget sighed. ‘Tell me, Captain—do you know what happened to Captain Black Harry?’

Harry’s heart leapt. He had been waiting for this moment and he still did not know how to answer the question. His dark brows knit and he folded powerful arms across his broad chest. ‘I had almost forgotten you knew the captain. This Joshua Wood, you admired him?’

Bridget gave him a startled look. ‘He was a good man. Dependable.’

Harry felt a curl of envy. ‘A handsome man?’

‘I would say pleasant, rather than handsome.’

‘You were fond of him?’ he pressed.

She frowned, wondering why he asked such questions of Joshua. ‘I liked him. As I have told you, he was a good man, not the kind to force himself on a woman like some,’ she added, dropping her gaze and gripping her hands tightly together.

Harry thought of the slave trader and wished he had him there in front of him, so he could punch him in the face, but all he said was, ‘I am glad to hear it. This Lady Elizabeth—what is her full name?’

Bridget pulled herself together. ‘Lady Elizabeth Stanley. She is related to the King of England.’

Surprise flared in Harry’s eyes. ‘A rare prize, indeed, for a pirate. I deem you have no need to fear for her life. She will certainly have been ransomed. It is a pity she did not arrange for you to be ransomed, too.’

Bridget nodded. ‘But the fault was not hers that I was taken away by the pirates and I know she was deeply concerned for me. In the past she was exceedingly kind to me. When I escaped from my uncle I was able to help in the rescue of her goddaughter, Rosamund, who was abducted by her stepbrother around that time. Afterwards, her ladyship offered to be of assistance to me. I became part of her household and she took my problems to heart and decided to accompany me on my search for my father and Captain Black Harry. Only on the way …’ She became agitated and jumped to her feet. ‘You can have no notion of what it is like to be desired by men who have you in their power! What I had to do just to survive …’

Harry reached out and was compelled to take her by the shoulders. He gazed down into her face and slowly lifted a hand and stroked her cheek. ‘You are very beautiful.’

Bridget closed her eyes and allowed her face to rest against his hand. ‘Beauty can be a bane,’ she whispered, thinking of the time when even Black Harry had looked at her with a delighted expression on his handsome face. She opened her eyes and looked up into the captain’s bearded face. ‘Do you know the whereabouts of Black Harry?’ she asked again with a troubled look.

Harry released her. ‘He no longer exists.’

‘What!‘ Bridget was taken aback. ‘When did this happen? Did he die recently or was he lost in the New World and someone else took over his ship?’

Harry was surprised by her reaction. ‘You sound like you care what happened to him. Yet earlier I received the impression that you despised him, so why should it matter to you if he is dead?’

‘There are those I know in England who will be saddened to hear of his death,’ she said.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. ‘If you talk of his family, he has none.’

‘How do you know that? He had lost his memory and could not remember his family,’ she said with a toss of her head, causing her glorious hair to swirl about her shoulders. ‘If only he had not separated me from my father and gone to the New World.’

Harry’s gaze fixed on her hair and he longed to touch it and run his fingers through it. Instead he clenched his fists. ‘No doubt when last you confronted each other, you were showing all the signs of burgeoning womanhood.’

Bridget flushed. ‘What are you suggesting? That he thought I would have an unsettling effect on his crew?’

He raised his eyebrows in a speaking manner. ‘No doubt he was aware that a woman’s needs are very different from a man’s and to be the only female on a long voyage would have presented you with problems.’

She knew he was right about that, but was not going to admit it. ‘I would have coped, Captain. A woman can adapt to difficult situations the same as a man.’

‘I am not disputing your courage and stamina, Mistress McDonald, but a woman cannot help but practise her feminine wiles on a man in order to get him to do what she wishes.’

Bridget’s jaw dropped and, for a moment, she was speechless and hurt that he could believe that of her. ‘Are you daring to suggest that I am a coquette?’ she demanded. ‘I thought you were different from other men because you have been kind to me, but I see now that I was mistaken. I will seek help elsewhere. I have been called a witch in the past and accused of putting a spell on a man. The slave trader was typical of a certain kind of man who blames the object of their lust, without caring what damage they do to a woman. No doubt Black Harry was the same.’

Harry’s jaw tightened. ‘You do him an injustice when he cannot defend his reputation. I understand why you were desperate enough to jump into a raging sea, but I am not like that slave trader. Anyway, if you prefer to manage without any further help from me then I will leave you alone to consider your options.’ He left the bedchamber, closing the door carefully behind him.

If there had been anything close by that she could have picked up and thrown at him, Bridget would have done so. She wanted to scream at him. How could he not understand how much his words had hurt her? She had done everything possible to hide her feminine charms from the pirate crew but little good it had done her. When she had fought off the advances of the ones who had tried to steal a kiss from her, she had been repaid with a beating.

She dropped on to the bed, wondering how she could get off this island without the captain. She remembered Black Harry paying for her passage to Scotland, so she could leave Ireland as her father had wished her to do. She had to admit that it was strange behaviour on Black Harry’s part if he really had lusted after her. She recalled how strong and indestructible he had appeared as he had stood on the quayside last time she had seen him. It seemed wrong that two such strong men as he and her father could now be dead.

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