Captivated by the Captain (Fabled Love Book 2) Read online

  Captivated by the Captain

  Fabled Love book two

  by

  Amanda Mariel

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Copyright © 2016 Amanda Mariel

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Brook Ridge Press

  DEDICATION

  Aaron this one is for you! No worries: the medieval is still in the works. For now, you get a pirate. Don’t you just love little sisters? LOL!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

  Thank you to my editor and beta readers for helping to shape and polish Natalie’s story. My family deserves a big thank you too. Your support and enthusiasm mean the world. Mom, you are always first eyes on my manuscripts and your notes and suggestions are invaluable. And a huge thank you goes to my readers for continuing to cheer me on and read my books. I adore you all!

  Prologue

  Boston, Massachusetts, 1815

  Prudence Drake angled her head, staring at Papa over the rim of her teacup. “You cannot go so soon. It has only been a fortnight since your last voyage.” She detested being left alone while Papa took to the seas. There were no new adventures to be had here in Boston and, while she liked their home, she had no head for running it. She simply had to convince him to take her along.

  He sat back in his brocade-covered chair and crossed his legs, teacup in hand. “This is business, Poppet. I will return straight away. You will hardly notice my absence.”

  At one and twenty, she had long ago outgrown the nickname, still she liked when he called her by the endearment. A small smile tugged at her lips. “Take me along.”

  “I am sailing to London. It can be a dangerous crossing. Not at all like going up and down the coast as you are accustomed to.”

  “Please,” she cajoled, doling out her best pouty look. “I will be no trouble. Promise.”

  For all of her one and twenty years, it had been her and Papa. Mama died giving birth to her, and while she had sometimes wished for a mother, she always longed to be with her Papa. Some of her fondest memories were of sailing with him. Perhaps their bond was stronger for all the time they spent together—just the two of them.

  He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “You are never any trouble, Poppet. All the same, you belong here. Who will look after things in my absence if you come along?”

  “Mr. Stratford is capable. He knows far more about the business than I do.” She set her teacup on the table. “You have been training him for years.”

  “True, but it was the estate I referred to.”

  “Oh Papa, I couldn’t give a fig for domestic responsibilities, and you well know it.” She tossed her head defiantly. “Our servants handle all of the household matters. They will do just as well without me in residence.”

  Papa chuckled, his eyes lighting. “I feared that deficiency would keep you unwed; we are lucky Mr. Stratford took a fancy to you.” He glanced at her Mother’s miniature on his desk. “Perhaps I should have remarried. A woman’s guidance may have benefited you.”

  “Do not look back, Papa. Not when the future is bright.”

  Mr. Stratford was a nice fellow and handsome enough. He would make her a fine husband. There was no spark, no excitement between them, but time could alter that. He did pay admirable courtship on her, and everyone assumed he would offer for her soon. Most importantly, Papa wanted the match for her.

  “Bright indeed. And one more reason for you to remain here.”

  She nibbled her lip, an idea taking shape in her mind. Perhaps…yes, it could work. “Papa, if you take me along it may give Mr. Stratford time to miss me. Nudge him toward an offer.” She leaned toward him. “Distance brings fondness of the heart, as they say.”

  He released an exasperated breath. “You do not intend to drop this.”

  “Not until you say I can go. Do not leave me here, Papa.” She looked into his aged, green eyes, urging his consent.

  He leaned forward, studying her, his fingers steepled. “It will be a long, sometimes hard, voyage.”

  “I enjoy being aboard a ship.” She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “And you are well aware that I know how to conduct myself. Even help out if needed. You have seen me climb rigging and repair leaks. I am more at home on a ship than here in the house.”

  The very idea of managing the estate made her wish to stow away. She had never had a mind for ordering servants, planning events, nor ordering supplies among other things. The head housekeeper always did those tasks. Prudence had made a real attempt to learn household management but she’d never excelled at the task.

  “The cabins are small. Much smaller than you have previously experienced.” He took a sip of his tea.

  “I do not require much space. I too am small.” She pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them to demonstrate. A small cabin was preferable to being left behind, and she hadn’t lied. She no more required a large room then she did ribbons and frills.

  He set his teacup aside and studied her. “Are you prepared to share a cramped cabin with your maid?”

  Her heart soared. She had won their standoff. The gleam in Papa’s eyes told her as much. “I look forward to it. Louisa has been with me for so long that she has become a friend. It will be a merry adventure.”

  His crisp gaze softened. “Very well. You may accompany me. Have Louisa pack your trunk and be ready to board at dawn.”

  Prudence stood and moved to his side before dropping a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. You will not regret it.”

  “I pray not, Poppet.” He patted her gloved hand. “Now, off with you.”

  “Goodnight, Papa.” Prudence walked to the door with an added spring in her step.

  “Sweet dreams, love.”

  “Only the sweetest.” She cast a smile over her shoulder. “And on the morrow, we shall live them.”

  Chapter 1

  Atlantic Ocean,1815

  “Ship on the horizon!” The call came down from the crow’s nest.

  Jasper Blackmore lifted his spyglass for a look. The view that met him sent excitement coursing through his blood. A pirate sloop, and judging by the activity on deck, it had recently seen battle. “It’s the Black Dawn, and she looks full.” He handed the spyglass to his quartermaster, Reed Hawkins. “Have a gander.”

  It seemed like a lifetime ago that Jasper left the ducal estate to fight against Napoleon. He never would have imagined back then that he would become a pirate bent on riding the seas of merciless cutthroats with his cousin, Hawkins, as his right hand.

  “Seems we found a target, Captain.” Hawkins lowered the glass and gave a sly grin.

  “They should be easy prey. Their mast appears to be damaged.” Jasper took another look. “And it seems they are watching us in return.”

  He’d had dealings with Black Dawn in the past. They were a loathsome bunch not opposed to killing the innocent. He would not allow them to limp away today. It was not that he enjoyed killing other men—he most certainly did not—but after all he’d seen and suffered, he would not allow Black Dawn’s crew to witness another sunrise.

  His mind flashed back to his days as a privateer for the crown. The screams of his injured, dying men after Black Dawn’s crew attacked them. They had been weak, having suffered damages in an earlier scrimmage and were low o
n powder for the guns. Jasper’s men had fought with all they had, but in the end more than half the crew met their maker.

  Hawkins nodded his agreement. “We outgun and outnumber them. Let us lay chase.”

  Jasper turned to give orders to his crew. “Man your stations. We are going after Black Dawn. Load the starboard cannons and get Styles on the forward gun.”

  Styles Wither was the best damn gunner Jasper ever had the pleasure of captaining. Between his ship’s speed and her expert crew, they had yet to confront a foe they were unable to conquer. Today would be no different. They would win the battle and profit for it.

  He wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his cutlass as the anticipation of battle warmed his blood. This was what he lived for, the open sea, camaraderie of his men, and the excitement of battle. The fact that his chosen path irritated his father only sweetened things. As far as the duke was concerned Jasper ceased to exist when he came to fisticuffs with his older brother after the woman he was courting, Miss Anna, cast him aside for the ducal heir. Father had ordered Jasper to bow to his brother, forget the betrayal, and behave as a proper spare. It was not to be. Jasper left his home and never looked back, though he did maintain a correspondence with his mother and sister. The duke must be quite vexed with his son the pirate—a fact that suited Jasper perfectly.

  Jasper moved closer to the rail of the main deck as the distance between the Marion and Black Dawn shrank. The crippled Black Dawn stood no chance of out running them. Much as his crew had not all those years ago. He lifted the spyglass again then grinned.

  A flurry of activity and battle calls rent the decks as his men scurried about in preparation. Cutlasses swinging, they ran to their stations, taking positions behind guns, along rails, and in the rigging. Cannons were primed as powder monkeys raced back and forth across the decks. The air crackled with battle lust feeding everyone’s ambitions.

  Jasper returned his attention to Hawkins, slapping him on the shoulder. “Today will be a good one.” He would have his vengeance at last, and in the process he and his crew would profit.

  “I have no doubt, Captain.” Hawkins turned to bellow some more orders before looking back at Jasper. “We are almost in range.”

  A slight chill trickled down Jasper’s spine. It had been years since his last encounter with the Black Dawn, what if he over estimated his crew or under estimated Black Dawns? Could it be possible that he had signed his crew’s death warrants by initiating this attack? What would happen to the orphanage without his continued support?

  He swallowed hard, chasing the doubts away. His crew was the best to be had. Marion was the toughest ship on the seas. Nothing would go amiss today. They would see the sunset this eve and everyone would benefit from this attack.

  Jasper tightened his hold on the hilt of his sword. “Wait for it. Another few minutes and we can blast them right out of the ocean.”

  “I’ll order Styles to take out what remains of their main mast.” Hawkins started to move toward the forward gun.

  The suggestion would put a quick end to the battle, but seemed too easy. He had to give the other ship a fighting chance. How would he look at himself in the mirror come morning if he decimated them while their pants were down the way they had done to him?

  “Wait,” Jasper called after him.

  Hawkins turned back, one brow arched. “Whatever for?”

  Irritation pricked at the back of Jasper’s neck. “It is not your duty to question my orders.”

  “My apologies, Captain. What is your plan for Black Dawn if not to splinter her mast?”

  He would be the better man. Give them a chance to defend themselves. “The ship is already crippled. Her mast fractured. It would be too easy to blow it off completely. I want a bit of a challenge.” Jasper had a reputation to uphold for being both fierce and fair. He was known to only attack pirates and to give quarter where appropriate. His crew and ship were feared and respected in equal measures by other captain’s. He’d not damage his reputation by taking the easy route with Black Dawn. No one would ever call him a coward or accuse him of being a cold hearted murderer.

  Amusement etched lines in Hawkins’ face. “I am all ears.”

  “Tell Styles to hold his fire. We will damage the deck and rigging instead. Show enough force to gain their submission. I want to stare Captain Gregor in the eye before I make him pay for his trespasses.” The man would know what he’d done and who was making him pay for it.

  “Very well.” Hawkins strolled off to pass on the orders.

  A few well-placed shots and Jasper’s crew would be ready to board Black Dawn. His men would liberate her cargo, then send the limping sloop to the bottom of the sea. Crew and all. Gregor and his crew would never harm another innocent nor take advantage of anyone incapable of defending themselves.

  * * * *

  Prudence struggled into a sitting position as cannon fire split the air. Could this be happening to her again? No. It wasn’t possible. Surely she would be rescued. It could not be more pirates. She fought against her bonds as she hoped the attacking ship would save her. Pray let it be the navy. Let it be her savior.

  Her wrists burned from struggling against the ropes. Still, she had to try to gain her freedom. Another blast split the air and she ducked out of habit, her heart thundering as the ship shuddered. What if it sank with her tied to the bloody bed? She would drown without anyone ever knowing what had happened to her. Who would take over the family business? Who would memorialize Papa and Louisa? She shook the thoughts away. There was no time for such musings. She would mourn them later. Worry about the future once she was free to do something about it. Right now she had to focus on surviving.

  Inhaling a deep breath, she glanced around the sparse, dark room. Think, Pru. A clank drew her attention toward the dressing table where a glint of metal caught her eye. The battle must have caused it to fall. She stretched her legs toward it, grateful the bastard who took her did not see fit to tie her in the bed. Instead, he left her on the floor, binding her where she’d fallen next to the wooden frame. She strained and stretched her bare feet toward the object, but it remained out of reach. Her wrists screamed as white hot pain spiraled through them and up her arms while she worked to turn onto her belly.

  Ignoring the complaints of her sore muscles, she continued feeling for the object. At last the cool, hard surface came into reach and she gripped it with her toes. A knife, it had to be, and she had added yet another wound to her person by retrieving it. She bit her bottom lip while she worked to pull the blade toward her, ignoring the burn of her newest cut. She arched her back and grabbed the blade with her hands, before rolling to sit.

  Another cannon blast sent chills up her spine. The blade fell from her shaking fingers, crashing against the wooden floorboards. She pursed her lips and wiggled her fingers behind her, searching once again.

  With the blade back in her hands, she worked to lose the bonds. The heavy fall of booted footsteps echoed above her, keeping rhythm with her heart. She sawed frantically, desperation driving her. The ropes fell away and she sprang to her feet.

  Her wrists stung, but she had no time to examine or tend them. She ran to the door, her foot burning with each step, and tugged on the handle. To her surprise, it opened without resistance, sending her stumbling backward across her bloody trail. It seemed the cocky bastard did not count on her escaping.

  She steadied herself before making her way into the hall. Clutching her ripped bodice in one hand and the blade in the other, she made her way down the narrow passageway. If she could sneak above deck, maybe she would have a chance at surviving. Her bloody foot prints would give her location away, but with luck, by the time the pirates followed the trail she’d already be rescued. She had to have faith, had to keep trying. There was no time to bind the wound.

  She stilled before the ladderway. A large man with dark blond hair and crisp blue eyes filled the exit, casting a tall shadow down on her. Bright sun filtered in around him, making him
appear like a dark angel. She studied the crescent shaped scar on his cheek for a moment before meeting his gaze.

  Heart racing, she held the knife out in front of her. “I will kill you before I allow you to touch me.”

  “I mean you no harm, Miss.” He started down the ladder toward her.

  “Stop where you are,” she demanded, thrusting the blade in his direction.

  The man smiled. “I am Captain Blackmore of the Marion.”

  She swallowed back the urge to trust his friendly smile. He could be tricking her into a false security. She tightened her hold on the knife and took a step backwards. Something in his tone told her she should care about his declaration. Still, none of what he said made sense to her. She only wanted off this bloody ship before she lost the ability to breathe. This man did not wear a navel uniform. All the same, he called himself a captain… “Are you here to rescue me?”

  “Yes. If you care to be rescued.” He descended another step.

  She backed away. “Then you are with the navy?”

  He chuckled. “Gads, no. I’m a pirate.”

  Her blood went cold, panic over taking her. Pirates had caused all of her troubles. They murdered the people she loved and took their ship. At this very moment she was a pirate’s captive seeking to save herself from whatever horrible fate he had in mind for her. She could not allow another pirate to take her. Would not allow it. She stiffened her stance, drawing a deep breath. “Then you can scurry back above deck. I will not be going anywhere with a pirate.” She tightened her grip on the blade. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as his gaze perused her bloody feet before traveling slowly up to meet hers.

  He jumped from the ladder and snatched her wrist before she could move. “You will not be gutting me today. As for pirates, it appears you are already with one.”