The Scot Corsair Read online

  "I will do whatever is in the best interests of my men," he replied evenly.

  "Then I take back what I said of you." She balled her napkin into a fist and slammed it down onto the table. The plates, cutlery and glasses rattled, and a little red wine spilled. "You are no gentleman after all."

  Satisfaction that she had delivered a cutting rebuke was her only consolation, and it was a poor one. After she had risen from the table abruptly and run out of the cabin, she had to stop on the deck and lean against the railing as she was overcome by a storm of tears.

  How had Captain Scot discovered her situation with Mr Crowther? As soon as she asked herself the question, the answer came to her in a flash. In fury, Elspeth wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and stormed down towards her own cabin to confront her treacherous, whoring maid.

  Chapter Nine

  Elspeth's anger was compounded when she found her cabin empty. Birnie was not where she had left her, where she ought to be; waiting in attendance on her pleasure, or—in the present case—extreme displeasure. She had given her no leave to absent herself, and this offence in itself would have merited dismissal had they all been safely back at Dunwoodie House. Elspeth was obliged to go in search of her, though she did not have to look far. She found her in the Quartermaster's cabin, thankfully alone, darning some men's stockings.

  Although she would not have admitted it, Elspeth was afraid of the huge, intimidating pirate. She would not have shrunk from confronting him had he been there, but she was very glad to find that he was not.

  "What do you think you are about?" she hissed.

  With a guilty start, Birnie put aside the stockings and rose to her feet. They were fashioned extravagantly in a fine dyed purple wool. "I'm sorry, my lady. I was just—doing some mending for Mr Washington while you were engaged—"

  Elspeth snatched the stockings and with deliberate fury ripped one in half, then flung it at Birnie's feet.

  Birnie gave a start and a small cry of dismay.

  "You are my servant," Elspeth cried. "Not Mr Washington's—nor the ship's cook's! I do not want you working for any of them again!"

  "I'm sorry, my lady..."

  "And are you sorry you spoke about my private affairs to these ruffians, these murderers?"

  "My lady—"

  "Did you tell them about my engagement to Mr Crowther?"

  "I—well—I didn't know it was meant to be a secret, my lady, I meant no harm—"

  "No harm! No harm in making my private affairs the subject of tittle-tattle between you and your blackamoor pirate lover?"

  Birnie seemed to be struggling against tears, but her mouth was trembling and her face was reddening.

  "They would have taken us home, you stupid strumpet, they would have returned us to Scotland to collect a ransom from my family! Now they know they only have to go to Barbados to demand money from Mr Crowther!"

  Birnie mumbled something.

  "What? If you're going to speak at all, speak out loud, girl!"

  She blurted it out quickly. "I said, I don't want to go home, my lady."

  "What?" Elspeth was thrown.

  "There's nothing there for me now, not since Robbie Sangster took up with Meggie from the Manse. I don't want to go back to day after day of sitting at my needle thinking about him and having him turn away from me if I pass him in the yard. I have the chance of a new life now, my lady. I'm going to stay with Mr Washington."

  "Oh, for goodness sake. You have every prospect of advancement at Dunwoodie, Mrs Swankie wouldn't have chosen you as my proxy lady's maid if she didn't think highly of you. You cannot throw away your whole future because one young man treated you badly. You're a pretty girl, I'm sure you will have many other suiters—decent Scottish boys—you'll forget this Robbie Sangster in no time."

  "But I would never forget Mr Washington, my lady."

  "Good to hear."

  Elspeth started violently. The pirate himself was looming behind her, having come in at the door without her noticing immediately. She could do no more than give him a haughty stare, delivered unconvincingly from what felt like several feet below, and step around him to stalk out of the cabin.

  Once more, she found herself alone on the deck in the cooling night air. The sea was lapping against the side of the ship in a soothing way, the moon hung low and bright in the sky and the canopy of stars was brilliant. Silvery moonlight rippled across the waves. The scene was beautiful, and peaceful, but despair boiled darkly within her breast.

  She would be delivered up to Mr Crowther after all; the terrible attack on the Heron, the deaths of Captain Cardrew and Lieutenant Wardle and all the men, which Elspeth had almost begun to think of as a gallant sacrifice to rescue her from that fate, would be in vain. And her own maidservant had turned on her, had thrown in her lot with the enemy. Elspeth felt equally betrayed and guilty, for she had been responsible for the stupid girl's welfare, and now she was lost.

  "Why so sad, my beautiful lady?"

  Elspeth lifted her head. She had been contemplating the water below, wondering wildly if a plunge into its depths—followed by a dramatic rescue, of course—would soften the pirate Captain's heart, and convince him to take her home after all. She was by no means sure that the water would not be rather too cold for comfort, however, and besides, she did not want to spoil her fine French lace-trimmed gown.

  The sight of the rakish pirate whose cabin she was borrowing was a more welcome prospect. He was leaning against the railing a little way from her, watching her with half a smile that widened into a roguish grin.

  "I am not sad, sir," she said, with chilly dignity.

  He came closer. "You shouldnae be out here all alone, my lady, there are some queer characters about." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "To tell you the truth, this is a pirate ship."

  A giggle escaped her like a rising bubble, and she was lost.

  He was a servant, she tried to tell herself as she gave herself up to tobacco-tasting kisses and wriggled as his hands roamed expertly to her bosom and backside. But what of it? Men took their pleasure with servants all the time, it was an unremarkable occurrence; she had once discovered her brother John on top of a plump kitchen maid in the upper linen closet at Dunwoodie, and he had merely laughed and told her to run away and play. So why should a lady not do the same?

  She was in a dark, reckless mood, similar to how she had felt when she had been willing to give herself to the embraces of Lieutenant Wardle. And this man had no veneer of respectability, no bouts of conscience, no distracting words of love and devotion. He was going directly for what he wanted, but very fast and rather roughly. She was disappointed when he broke away from kissing her and started to loosen his belt.

  With a quick downwards glance she could see the bulge straining at the front of his roughspun pantaloons, and she suddenly felt a chill of fright. He had made no attempt to touch her intimately, he had not even let loose her breasts or played with them. She did not feel a thrill in her secret place, nowhere near that sweet bursting sensation that made her desperate to part her legs and take whatever he had to give her. She felt nothing, except still angry and distressed.

  "No," she said, pulling back. "I—I don't want to. I'm sorry. Leave me." She tucked her skirts around her ankles and edged to the end of the bunk.

  He had been in the act of unbuckling his belt, and he only paused for a moment before he completed the operation. Then he leaned over her and put both hands on her arms, gently but firmly. "Oh no, my lady," he said softly. "You're on my ship now. You're no giving me orders. You just relax now, sweetheart, and you'll enjoy it."

  "Get off me!" she spat, before he stopped her mouth with a hard kiss.

  Just for a moment, she considered surrendering after all. Her head swam as his tongue probed deep into her mouth and she felt a hand make its way urgently up the inside of her skirts. But as soon as she felt him begin to work down his trousers with one hand, she gave him a shove and tried to squirm out from under him.<
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  "Oh no," he breathed. "You let me get this far, my lady, you dinnae get tae ca' canny now."

  Before she could protest further, they both froze in position at the rap on the door. Neither had time to react before the perfunctory knock was followed by the immediate entrance of Captain Scot.

  Stirling uttered an exclamation in the Gaelic that Elspeth did not exactly understand, but knew to be obscene, and jumped hastily off the bunk. Elspeth tucked her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs, desperately trying to look innocent. Her heart was hammering wildly and she felt, for a few moments, quite faint. Was there any chance that the Captain would believe that, as before, they had just been talking?

  As soon as he got to his feet, Stirling's trousers fell neatly to his ankles. He had obviously forgotten that he had already unbuckled his belt.

  The First Mate stumbled backwards and tripped over his own entangled feet as Captain Scot seized his shirt front and landed a solid punch across his face.

  Elspeth gasped. She had never actually witnessed one man strike another before. The sound of bone hitting bone was a startling, meaty crunch, and Stirling thudded against the wall of the narrow cabin.

  He rubbed his face, where there was a sudden swell of blood around his mouth, and glared at the Captain; but he did nothing to retaliate. Instead, he hitched his trousers back up, refastened the belt, and left without saying a word.

  "Th-thank you," said Elspeth, in as sweet and tremulous a voice as she could muster. "You came in just in time..."

  She raised her eyes to the Captain's face; demurely, as she hoped. What she saw there made her heart fall into the bottom of her stomach. His mouth was set in a hard line of fury, his eyes were blazing.

  "I have had," he said in a low dangerous voice, "quite enough of you, your ladyship. Enough of your lies, of your play-acting, of your spoilt and irresponsible behaviour." He seized her wrist, and she yelped in protest. "Your husband-to-be is hardly going to be pleased if I hand over damaged goods, is he?"

  "I care nothing for whether he is pleased or not!" she cried, trying to wrestle back her arm.

  "Well, I do. I intend to ransom you in good faith, and I won't have him think that I or my men ravished you—which you will doubtless claim, if he finds you despoiled."

  She hung her head, suddenly ashamed of herself. The fever of ill temper that had provoked her to invite the First Mate's advances had quite passed over, and she felt a horror, a disgust at the thought that she might have given herself away so carelessly; to a rough common man who, however charming, had never been more than a servant, and who had seemed to want to take his own pleasure without any regards for hers. What must the Captain think of her?

  And she knew, with a dart of insight that felt like a physical pull at her heart, that she had thrown herself so recklessly into Stirling's arms because she had been disappointed that Captain Scot had not seemed to want her in his.

  "I begin to understand why your brother was so keen to be rid of you," he said, and his voice was cold.

  "No!" Angry tears sprang into her eyes.

  "Well, there is to be an end to your mischief, right now. I've allowed you licence in deference to your rank and sex, and out of compassion for your distress at being taken prisoner—but from now on, while you are in my care, you are under my command. You will obey my orders for your own safety and you will submit to punishment for misbehaviour."

  "P-punishment?"

  "Oh yes." He sounded almost triumphant, and he had not yet let go of her wrist. "I warned you before, I'd not hesitate to put you over my knee. What you need, your ladyship, is a damned good hiding."

  "Oh! You would not dare."

  "Lady Elspeth, I'm a pirate captain, this is my ship and you are my prisoner. I need very little in the way of daring in order to teach an ill-tempered, wayward young lady a long-overdue lesson."

  There was a wry undertone of humour in his voice, but its sternness was implacable. Elspeth believed him, and sagged. "Yes, sir," she whispered meekly. "I'm very sorry. I will behave better from now on, I promise."

  "I'm glad to hear it, and I promise you in return, you won't forget those good intentions for a long while once I've finished with you."

  "Finished with me? But—but—I promise to be good—"

  "Lady Elspeth, let me be plain. Your disgraceful misbehaviour with my reprobate First Mate has already earned you a sore backside, and I think you need a few skelps extra to make you a thoroughly sorry girl." He glanced about. "Not in here though. There's no room to swing my arm, and I wouldn't have Washington and your maid hear everything." He tugged her arm. "To my cabin."

  She stood her ground, quite faint with fright. "No! I will not go! I shall scream!"

  "Scream if you will, your ladyship, but you will do as I bid you. Do you want me to carry you bodily over my shoulder, in full view of all the men?"

  She saw once more that he was serious, and shook her head mutely. With as much dignity as she could muster, therefore, she let him steer her out to the deck.

  The remains of their half-eaten meal, the candle guttering low, were still on the table, just as she had left them when she had stormed out of the Captain's cabin an hour or more before. Elspeth stared at the congealing slices of pork and abandoned glasses of wine, as the Captain turned the key in the lock.

  "I would not wish any of the men to see this," he said.

  For some reason, it was this considerate action that truly scared her. She lost all vestiges of brave defiance and broke down in real sobs. "Oh sir, Captain sir, please do not hurt me."

  "Wheesh, you silly girl, I am not going to do you harm. I'm going to punish you for your foolish and dangerous behaviour this afternoon, and hope that the lesson will make you think twice before you do anything like that again."

  "But I won't! Please believe me, sir, I won't."

  "Lady Elspeth, have you never been chastised before? Has no brother or no governess ever skelpt your naughty backside?"

  "No! Never!" A blush flamed on her cheek. "My father and my m-mother would never allow it."

  "A pity. That explains a good deal. But never mind, it is never too late to start." He seated himself slowly on the edge of the incongruous chaise longue, where he had lain Elspeth down when he had first carried her into the ship, and patted the knee of his breeches. "Come now, over my knee."

  "No! I will not!" She stood rooted to the spot.

  "Then we will have to do it the hard way."

  In one swift motion he got to his feet, caught hold of her by the waist, and whirled her upside down. She shrieked in surprise and fought back instinctively, but her lashing arms and kicking legs were wholly ineffectual. Although he was not a big man, the strength in his limbs was extraordinary, like an iron press. She found herself after a very short struggle, and a whisk of muslin and golden curls, helplessly pinned face-down across his lap. Her cheek was pressed against the velvet of the chaise-longue, her wrists were held firmly over her head against the wooden scrolling, and her legs were trapped between his knees. He was holding her in such as way that one of his legs was under her stomach, raising her bottom high.

  "Stop struggling," he said grimly. "You're getting this whether you like it or not, but if you carry on fighting me, there will be worse to come."

  She let herself go limp, wondering if he would relax his grip and give her an opportunity to escape.

  But then, it was hopeless. Where would she escape to? She realised with a dreadful feeling of doom that he was quite determined to give her this punishment, that nobody was going to intervene to stop him, and that he was not going to change his mind.

  "That's better," he said. He did not loosen his hold on her. Instead, he pressed her hands down harder as he tugged at her skirts.

  "What are you doing?" she cried in horror, lifting her head as best she could with her arms held above.

  "You won't learn your lesson through three layers of cotton and muslin," he said matter-of-factly. "What a great deal
of skirts you have, your ladyship. Ah, here we have it."

  He bundled the delicate skirt of her evening gown, the cotton of her petticoat and the stouter fabric of her shift all the way up to above her waist, and she felt a coolness as her bottom and the backs of her thighs were exposed to the air.

  And, she realised with burning shame, to his gaze. He was holding her close, and looking upon her nakedness. She squeezed her legs together, wondering exactly how much he could see.

  "Now then, your ladyship. I want you to be very clear about what this punishment is for, and why you deserve it. You are engaged to be married, and yet you allowed a man into your cabin, a man I had already warned you was not to be trusted around women. If I had not come to check that you were all right, after you had stomped out on me in a tantrum worthy of a two-year-old, I do believe you would have let him have his way with you."

  "No!" she blurted out. "I told him to leave me be, I told him I had thought better of it—" She stopped, as she realised that she had just admitted that she had been willing at first.

  "That was very foolish of you. Stirling is not the worst of fellows, but a man like that is hardly likely to take his dismissal meekly—not once invited into a lady's bed. You are a very silly, not to say naive girl, and you're lucky that I came along to stop you getting into worse trouble."

  She knew this was true, and she felt the relief of it, and gasped with genuine contrition, "I truly am sorry, sir, and—thank you."

  "Aye. You may thank me once I've made you sorrier still."

  And then without further warning, he brought his open hand down hard on one soft, unprotected bottom cheek.

  It made a crack like a wet pistol shot and the sting was like nothing Elspeth had ever experienced before in her life, a scalding blaze of pain that shocked her too much to allow her breath to cry out. When he struck the other cheek quite as remorselessly, his wide roughened hand as tough as wood against her tender flesh, she knew she could not by any means endure another moment.