Free The Pirate Ruse by Marcia Lynn McClure Page A

the next moment, she wondered how many pirate wenches had known such a manner of thirst quenching from him. “Filthy pirate!” she exclaimed to the air.
    Cristabel went to a porthole near the berth , opened it, and inhaled a breath of salty sea air. She had survived her first night as captive aboard the Merry Wench , and it was more than many men had done.
    She frowned , remembering then that Navarrone had claimed she had revealed information to him—information regarding her abduction and journey to the Chichester . She tried to remember exactly what she had told him—what had transpired the night before—but she could not. There were only wisps of memory, and those were clouded and nonsensical.
    Navarrone had promised he would return to extract further information from her, and Cristabel knew she must own far more wisdom in dealing with her captor than she had previously. Thus, she contemplated—reviewed the events that now found her, yet alive, aboard the Merry Wench and on her way back to New Orleans.
    The abduction was terrifying! In fact, Cristabel mused that enduring abduction was most likely why she was not as astonished as she perhaps should be at lingering in the company of pirates. Strangers had come in the middle of the night, dragged her from her bed, bound her, gagged her, and carried her to a small boat. As remembered fear began to wash over her, she chose not to linger on those moments but to think instead of her time aboard the Chichester .
    “Are you feeling better then?”
    The sound of his voice startled her. Still, she looked to him, feigning courage—as ever she did. Oh, but he was handsome! A weak-minded maiden might well be seduced by his physical allure alone. Cristabel was thankful she was not a weak-minded maiden, though she further mused that were he not a pirate—were he a gentleman—she might allow herself a morsel of weak-mindedness. She gritted her teeth, inwardly scolding herself for thinking any good thoughts of a pirate.
    “Yes,” she admitted. “And thank you for the peppermint.”
    He nodded. He then turned and called out, “James Kelley…bring the trunk.”
    Cristabel watched as James Kelley and another member of the crew carried in the trunk she recognized as being her own. She looked to the pirate captain, and he nodded to her once more. Thus, she made her decision. In that very instant, she chose to be compatible with the pirate—not combative. After all, had he wanted her dead, he would have killed her already. Had he wanted to ravage her, he would likewise have ravaged her already. Therefore, in those brief moments, Cristabel Albay began to believe that perhaps she did know something of worth to Captain Navarrone. Furthermore, if she did own some knowledge he desired to glean from her, it may well be the further saving of her life.
    James Kelley smiled at Cristabel before taking his leave, and she sensed he was a kind sort of boy. After all, he had also in secret slipped her a flask of water the night before. She thought him brave, for he had defied his captain’s orders—risked a no doubt harsh reprimand in the least.
    Captain Navarrone closed the cabin door and then turned to her and said, “I am allowing you to have your things.”
    “May I dress?” she asked. Oh, she would not be combative, but she would not be too demure and agreeable, lest he think she was weak.
    She felt a blush rise to her cheeks as Captain Navarrone cocked his head to one side , studying the length of her.
    “You are dressed, love,” he said. “As modest as any other woman of my acquaintance. No need to cause yourself discomfort in this balmy air by adding another layer of attire.”
    Cristabel must proceed with care—this she sensed. She must not attempt to best him in constancy, yet she could not forever lean to forfeit.
    “You make a point,” she said. “The air is balmy, and you are used to women donning less attire. Furthermore, I do not sense that you plan to allow me to