Free Rescued by the Buccaneer by Normandie Alleman

He’d been wrong to accuse Frederica—and even more wrong to punish her. He didn’t like what that said about him. Gaston considered himself a just man, but he had misjudged her. It vexed him that not only had he failed in taking Humphrey’s ship, but he’d been wrong in his assessment of Frederica. Both were evidence of his shortcomings. And Gaston hated being faced with his shortcomings.
    The louder the mob grew, the more frightened Frederica looked, and Gaston’s heart went out to her. He was no stranger to false accusations, and it made him feel like a jackass that he’d been wrong about her. Hoping to find a way to make it up to her, he stared at her, imploring her to return his gaze, but her eyes remained fixed on the stretch of space in front of her.
    In light of the recent revelation that Tiny was to blame for his capture, Gaston recognized that the regal girl on trial was not a sophisticate playing both sides against the middle. Rather, she was merely a proud young woman who had been victimized, first by the brute Humphrey and then by himself, on a lesser scale of course. Still, his gut wrenched at the idea he had struck her for no good reason.
    Raising his voice above the din, Gaston shouted, “Leave the girl alone, Humphrey! It is me with whom you have a quarrel. She has done nothing.”
    Humphrey snickered. “She hasn’t? Ye going to take responsibility for her, are ye mate?”
    “Gladly. There’s been a misunderstanding. Mademoiselle Beauchamp is quite loyal to you and your crew. She told me nothing but of the debt she owes you for saving her life.”
    Humphrey growled, “Aye. Ye think I’m soft in the head, do ye? I know what she’s been a tellin’ ye. Talkin’ out of school, as it were.” He stuck his face next to Gaston’s ear. “Ye should’ve thought of that before ye tried to ruin me reputation in front of me crew, ye bastard,” he grumbled.
    “Let her go,” Gaston quietly insisted.
    The captain shook his head and moved back to center stage. “What should we do with these two here traitors, Tiny?” he asked, the verbiage sounding rehearsed.
    “We’ve no use for scum like them. Throw ‘em into the sea, Cap’n.”
    A roar rose from the crowd. It seemed a popular idea, with the exception of those men who were hoping for a turn with Frederica.
    “Give us the girl!” one of them shouted.
    “You’re a better man than that, Humphrey. Throw us overboard,” Gaston said.
    Frederica’s eyes glassed over. Gaston could see she was frightened, but had withdrawn from the situation out of self-protection. Her perfect lips jutted out in the most enticing pout. Something primal deep inside rose to the surface, an undeniable urge to save her. He would find a way for them to escape—he’d cheated death countless times. Adding a woman to the mix wasn’t likely to change his luck.
    Gaston didn’t know why, but he’d always been a survivor, even when lives around him fell like raindrops in a spring shower. He feared it was his cavalier attitude towards death. In his experience, the fates showed an aversion for those who valued their lives highly, whereas bastards like him were spared.
    Frederica looked as though a strong wind might knock her over, and Gaston willed her to hold it together.
    With a swift flick of his sword, Humphrey cut off a long lock of Frederica’s tangled mane. “Something to remember ye by, lassy.”
    He faced the crowd and shouted, “To the sea with ‘em! Let ‘em walk the plank!”
    Cheers went up all around, and Gaston said a silent prayer as he and Frederica were hustled to the ship’s edge.
     
    * * *
     
    Frederica heard the captain’s words, but she fought hard to deny them. Being forced overboard was her greatest fear. The monsters that swam below would rip her limb from limb. She feared her heart would stop, and she struggled to find breath.
    “No!” she shrieked. “Shoot me instead!” she pleaded.
    “You’re not worth the gunpowder,” Humphrey