A Love So Bold

Written by

Alison Leigh Krysak

 

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- Prologue -

On a Merchant Ship in the Atlantic

As far as the eye could see and beyond, the ocean swelled in rolling whitecaps, its misty spray leaving behind its indelible mark on everything it touched. Denise breathed deeply of the tangy scent and rejoiced silently to be going home at last. Home certainly was where the heart was. A Small smile curved the corners of her mouth. She couldn’t wait to see her mother, Nancy, her father, Richard, and Anjie, Kelley and Sean. How her siblings must have grown in the time she was away!

She had been packed off to England for a proper lady’s education had she had properly hated every minute of it. Of course, there had been good times, too. Denise had become very good friends with Maggie Johnson and had spent some enjoyable holidays at her parents’ country home. But Maggie’s mother had only reinforced Denise’s determination not to be a mat for her husband to tread on. The constant fluttering over the smallest details in order to please her husband had been very wearing on one’s nerves.

No, she vowed silently, despite what her parents wanted for her, she could never be just a wife, just a mother. There was a whole world of things she could do. Curses upon society’s restrictions!

Why, she could become a businesswoman in her own right. She could help those poor souls in Boston, the ones she had read about in English tabloids.

She could lobby Parliament, taking a firm stand for women’s rights. Denise sniffed delicately. Women’s rights indeed!

She had to face it. In this day and age there wasn’t anything a proper lady could do except be a proper lady. Denise’s sigh rent the air. Going home was like having her corset pulled so tight she couldn’t draw another breath of freedom. What was a woman to do?

 

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Denise turned as Mr. John Paul approached. He was a charming individual, well-educated and remarkably kind. She had become well acquainted with him over the last several weeks. A person couldn’t help running into the other passengers on a brig this size.

In that instant, a sudden gust of wind pushed her panniers to the side and lifted her skirts to an embarrassing angle. She blushed profusely as she fumbled with the yards and yards of material.

Being the gentleman he was, Mr. Paul ignored her situation. “Ah, my dear, I wondered what had become of you. You skipped your meal and the captain had become concerned.”

“I was just getting a breath of fresh air. It seems the closer we come to the Colonies, the more I have to consider.” Denise’s blush had faded to a pale pink and Mr. Paul couldn’t help but notice how becoming it was on her. Her wavy, blond hair was twisted into a topknot of curls and long tendrils of it floated loosely in the breeze, enticing a man to reach out and sample its softness.

“What dire matters could a pretty little lady like you have to consider?” John Paul wished he had only flirtation on his mind. Here was one woman he wouldn’t mind getting to know better.

His own personal matters had already been considered. He was on his way to a new life, away from memories of English tyranny against the Scots, away from recent troubles with the British administration of Tobago, as far away as he could go to start a new life. He was going to change his name and begin anew. From the moment he set foot in the Colonies, he would be know as John Paul Jones, and by golly, he yearned to make his mark. People would remember him!

Denise was flattered by the shy man’s interest. she quickly surveyed him head to toe. He was of medium height, medium weight, and medium brown hair. He was just, she sighed softly, medium.

She was instantly ashamed of her thoughts. But she was disappointed also. Three years in London, and not one man had caught her eye. She supposed she was like every other female of the species. She wanted only the best. Denise wanted someone who had attractive features, a pleasant personality, and kindness and caring in abundance.

 

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Someone who loved laughter and wasn’t afraid to laugh at himself. Someone to share the day with and to romance the night away. But most of all, she wanted someone who would appreciate her just for being her, with all her quirky notions, her unfeminine ideas and her occasional flights of fancy. Did a man such as that even exist?

Denise had trouble remembering what Mr. Paul had asked. She frowned and tried to reply, but her answer was abruptly cut off.

“Ship to starboard, Captain!” Denise heard the voice from the crow’s nest and leaned over backward to see what direction he was pointing.

Squinting against the sun, Denise saw the pin-point ship in the distance. She couldn’t help grinning at Mr. Paul. “At last, some excitement in our day!”

He didn’t answer immediately, but continued to peer at the approaching ship. “Perhaps, Mistress Matthews, you may rue those words. If I’m not mistaken, the ship about to overtake us doesn’t fly the Union Jack, nor does she fly anything with which I’m familiar. I’m afraid we’ve trouble on our hands. This is a merchant ship. There’s nary a cannon or gun in sight to thwart a boarding.”

“What does all that mean?” Denise had to shout to make herself heard above the din of orders being issued and relayed from the forecastle where the captain stood.

“It means, Mistress Matthews, I suggest you follow me below deck to my cabin.” At Denise’s sudden gasp of disbelief, John Paul Jones shook his head. “Don’t put an outraged expression on your face just yet, my dear. I was merely going to lend you some of my clothes. Since you are the only female on board, it’s only right that the other ship not be made aware of such a fact. Being the innocent you are, it’s also fitting you don’t have any idea what I am talking about. Now, come along. With the wind at its back that frigate is going to be on us any minute.”

John Paul Jones hurriedly ushered Denise through the passageway and into his small cabin. The slam of the door brought shivers to Denise’s spine. Somehow, she knew that from this moment on, nothing in her life would ever be the same.

 

 

 

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Chapter 1 –

On Board A Privateer

 

Denise moved hurriedly, her heart racing at an unbelievable speed. John’s breeches hadn’t fit, so he had hastily gathered clothes from the captain’s cabin boy and son, Nathan. She finished stuffing her hair inside the seaman’s cap and paused long enough to survey her handiwork.

The pantaloons hugged her hips tighter than she would have liked, but, she sighed, beggars couldn’t be choosers. The gray worsted shirt scratched her tender skin, skin used to the best creams and powders. The outer leather jerkin was heavy and she realized it would soon prove to be too hot. The jerkin was necessary to conceal her feminine attributes. The thick striped socks covered her slender curved calves, and thankfully, the shoes almost fit.

The noise from topside bas becoming louder and Denise was instantly brought back to the peril she was in. John didn’t bother to knock as he thrust the door open. “Grab something! They’re sitting grappling hooks!” The shifting and creaking of timbers was almost deafening. The ship shuddered to a halt and Denise’s knuckles whitened around the edge of the bunk.

The wind disappeared from the sails as they were quickly furled, and the shouted orders gradually died away.

The resulting silence was unnerving. John knew resistance would be useless. Besides himself, there wasn’t a fighting man on board. Whatever the pirate wanted he would take. But being a man shielding a pretty woman, he made an effort to appear as if he would fight to the death. His cutlass gripped in one hand, his pistol in the other, he waited for the cabin door to open. They could hear them searching the cabins one by one.

Denise’s legs began to tremble. She heard a scuffling in the passage way and she had to grit her teeth to keep them from chattering. Her hands had turned clammy and her stomach churned. What did the pirates want? Were they killing everyone on board one by one, slicing throats until the decks ran red with blood? Torturing them for information? Thanks to John she didn’t have to face the savages in her silk skirts. Heaven knows what would have happened then!

 

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Though she was prepared, Denise jumped backward as the door burst open. In her horror, she stopped breathing, and within seconds, she felt faint. She gulped air through cheeks stiffened with fear.

Before her stood the tallest man she had ever seen. He must have stood over six foot six, with a slashing scar down one whole side of his face. His head was completely bald and his smile was brilliant in its whiteness. In his surprise, John didn’t react until another man had removed his weapons and secured his arms behind him.

“Everybody on deck. Captain wants to see you.” The man’s well spoken voice clamed Denise somewhat as she and John were ushered up the stairs onto the deck.

She felt his presence before she saw him. Denise glanced over the faces lining the deck, searching for whatever it was that seemed to unnerve her. Squeezing behind John’s comforting body, she felt shivers dance along her spine. What was she looking for? Then she saw him, standing less than thirty feet away. She forgot to breathe. She drank in the sight of him, enjoying the resulting warmth spreading through her body.

He was simply the most handsome man she had ever seen. His eyes were steely green with eyelashes long enough to be envied by the feminine gender. His nose was straight with high molded cheekbones and a finely chiseled square cut to his jawline. Broad shouldered, his hard muscles were accentuated by his white shirt which was molded over his chest and open almost to the waist. His corded chest was deeply tanned from hours spent in the sun. The shirt reached slim hips and black breeches, pushed into black leather boots at knee level.

The wind whipped his curly brown hair around his face as he stood proudly surveying his domain. Denise watched awestruck as he removed his shirt and boots and started to the main rigging, scaling hand over hand until he reached the crow’s nest. Since the voyage began, Denise had seen many men up in the rigging, but never one as magnificent as he. Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw the pirate captain weave back and forth across the ropes of the three masts. His broad, tanned back and shoulders with the mass of sinewy muscles rippled in the glare of the sun.

 

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In moments he was back on deck and Denise gradually remembered to breath. He replaced his shirt, attached his long shiny cutlass to his belt and jammed a pistol into the waistband of his breeches.

“Captain, if you would be so kind.” He spoke in low tones, but his voice carried well. Denise allowed the richness of it to wash over her, bringing tingles of feelings to her nerve endings. Captain McDonald, captain to their merchant ship, stepped forward, a look of angry resignation on his face.

“Captain, I require no merchandise nor monies. I simply stopped you to look over your crew. I am not a pirate, but rather a privateer, working on my own, sanctioned by the Colonies.”

Captain McDonald protested, “And illegal as he.” He stepped backward, away from the black scowl which suddenly appeared on the privateer’s face.

“Regardless, sir, I seek only one thing and when I find it, you can be sure that I will take it.” No one on board doubted it. This man made a formidable opponent, and he took Denise’s breath away.

He walked casually amongst the crew of the merchant ship, sizing up every man he passed. Denise froze as he drew near, realizing too late their mistake. John had taken a stance behind the crew and not with the other passengers. He pushed at John’s shoulder to get a better look at her, but John refused to budge. The captain simply scowled again and two of his crew literally lifted John out of the way.

He stared at Denise a long time, long enough for the trembling in her legs to begin again. She kept her eyes lowered, but she could feel the heat of his green eyes as they started at the top of her head and lazily made their way downward inch by inch. He turned abruptly, leaving Denise flushed with shame and something else she couldn’t name.

Minutes later his voice rang out. “Well, Captain McDonald, I didn’t find what I was looking for, but I want to issue an invitation.” He turned back to the crew. “If there be any among you who may wish to join my crew, whether to return to the Colonies after impressments, or just by choice, then you are welcome. The new America will need all the able-bodied men she can find. So, if your loyalty to England weavers, then know a warm reception awaits you elsewhere.”

 

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He turned to leave, hesitated, then turned back, flashing strong white teeth. “Oh, and one other thing. I have need of a cabin boy. I have decided to take yours.”

Captain McDonald turned red in the face and blustered, “You can’t! He’s my son!”

The privateer just grinned. “Don’t worry, Captain, I wouldn’t take the little tyke by your side. I want the one with the striped socks.” With that he turned and mounted the side of the ship, grasped a rope and easily swung away.

Denise’s eyes widened. Striped socks! Oh, my God! They were there to escort her before she could find John for protection. She struggled briefly, lashing out with hands and feet until they easily subdued her. She thought she imagined John telling her it would be all right. But the words dimmed and she felt faint.

Fighting unconsciousness, Denise renewed her struggles. She was shaking all over, her eyes widened to black. It was then she was gathered into strong arms and held tight until her spiraling emotions left her drained as they ebbed away.

She wanted to wail and plead and cry. But she knew she would give herself away. She was disguised as a lad and a lad she would be. She gathered her courage and pushed away. To say she was shocked was an understatement. The man who held her so gently and gave comfort was not the captain but was the giant who had invaded John’s cabin.

“It’s all right lad. I know the captain’s intimidating, but he hasn’t eaten anyone that I know of, at least, lately. He really does need a cabin boy. Been lost, he has, since Walter left the ship in Barbados. You get to know him, you’ll wonder why you were ever afraid.

Denise tried to smile at the man’s humor. One side of her mouth curved upward in the attempt.

“Come along and I’ll explain your duties. Captain Smith runs a tight ship. It’d be best if you settle in right away. Oh, and by the way, my name’s Oliver.” Denise gathered her meager courage, straightened her shoulders and followed the giant into the bowels of the ship.

 

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Captain Michael Smith leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Another English ship and still no sign of John Peters, his best friend. Pressed into service two years ago off the docks of London, Michael hadn’t heard another thing from him. They had been supposed to meet at one of the many taverns they frequented, but John had never shown up. Endless questions later, Michael had not found the answer to John’s disappearance. Now, two years later, he was no closer than he was when he had started.

His mind focused on his newest employee. A grin split his face, knowing the youngster wouldn’t consider being hauled off a respectable English ship and brought aboard a privateer, being an employee. Nevertheless, he’d pay him the going wage until he delivered him personally to wherever it was he wanted to go.

Within a few minutes Denise had seen everything there was to see in the galley. After all, how much could one see in a room six by eight feet? She waited patiently for the cook to fix the captain’s tray, her mind in disarray. How long could she stay disguised before someone saw through it? It was one thing to hide amongst a crew of men, it was another to constantly be the center of attention.

The captain had already detached the ship and set course. Oliver had said the captain would enjoy his late meal because he had missed the breakfast and noon meals, so concerned he had been with overtaking the merchant ship.

Still she kept dillydallying. The captain was the one she had to worry most about fooling. She would be tending to his needs and cabin. She would constantly be thrown into his company whether she liked it or not. First impressions were very important. What if he saw through her clothes to the womanly curves hidden beneath? What if he removed her cap and saw her glorious long hair streaming down her back? What if he kept her in the hot galley long after she should have departed with the tray of food?

Small rivulets of perspiration began to run between her breasts, and her clothes began to cling. Her hair became a matted mess, concealed as it was inside the woolen cap. Still Denise put off the inevitable.

 

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Oliver finally came for her. “Come on, lad, he’s hungry as a bear and he’s started to behave like one.”

Denise gritted her teeth and picked up the loaded tray, her arms shaking with the effort. “Lets get this over with,” she mumbled under her breath. Oliver led her over the deck to the other cabins located in the stern. Denise tried to keep her eyes down, but she could feel the crew watching every movement as she stumbled along in Oliver’s wake.

The blasted man didn’t even look up as she entered the cabin! Denise had prepared herself for the worst and she ended up with no reception at all. The captain apparently expected her to adapt readily to her “new employment” and showed no more concern than he would to a trusted friend. The man’s eyes never left the page he was reading when he demanded, “What’s your name, lad?”

Denise’s mind went completely blank. How stupid of her not to anticipate the question! Her mind searched frantically for a name. “Harry, sir, name’s Harry.” Her voice cracked with the unnatural deepness she tried to effect.

Upon hearing the voice, Michael raised his beautiful green eyes and looked at her face fully since the first time he had seen her on the deck of the other ship. Now, he again saw the delicate bone structure, the soft smooth skin, the expressive blue eyes, and the full mouth. He quelled the urge to smile. How on earth did this lovely creature intend to carry out this masquerade? Did she imagine he was blind? Did he give some hint of stupidity? Any man in his right mind would recognize that mouth as belonging to a woman who needed to be kissed, kissed, and kissed again.

“Ah, Harry.” He seemed to contemplate the name for a matter of moments before he spoke. “As a matter of fact, Harry, I wanted to talk to you about your duties.” Michael’s eyes took on a piercing quality and Denise tried not to squirm. “One thing I am accustomed to is a daily bath.”

Denise’s head jerked upward. “ A bath, s....sir? In a tub?”

“Aye, Harry, in a tub.” Michael couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. “Over here behind this panel is where it is kept.” He rose to show her what he was talking about. “Of, course, the water must be heated in the gallery. You’ll find the buckets there. Cook will show you. I take fresh or rainwater baths whenever the water is available; otherwise, I’ll use saltwater.”

 

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Denise stood staring at the large copper tub Michael had revealed behind the panel near the bed. She said the first idiotic thing that came to her mind. “How clever! A real tub!” Her face took on a pained expression when she felt her heated face. “Now?”

“Now.” Her shoulders fell. Michael wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and comfort her and take away her worry. But, he decided, he was having too much fun.

“Oh, and Harry.” Denise’s eyes caught his and quickly skidded away. “You may address me by my given name. It’s Michael.”

She immediately looked uncomfortable but tired it out on her tongue. “Michael.” He almost groaned with his reaction to the sweetness of her voice. He watched her shapely backside as she walked out of the room and groaned again. The game he played was a dangerous one and if he didn’t watch out he just might get caught.