Chapter 2

P IRATES! Gabrielle got undeniable proof that pirates weren't extinct when one of them yanked her by her hair out of the barrel where she was hiding, dragged her topside amongst a lot of laughter and cheers, and dumped her on deck at the feet of the ugliest pirate of them all, their captain.

She was so terrified by that point that she couldn't imagine what was going to happen to her next. But she was sure it was going to be horrible. The only thought that entered her mind was to jump overboard in all haste.

The man looking down at her had thin, scraggly brown hair that fell to his shoulders, and on top of his head was an old tricornered hat with a dyed pink feather that hung down limply, as it was broken in at least two places. If that wasn't odd enough, he was also wearing a bright orange satin coat and flowing lace cravat right out of another century. The garments were in such appalling condition, they probably were that old.

Before she could get to her feet to dive over the side of the ship, he said, "M'name's Captain Brillaird, at your service, miss." He paused to laugh. "At least that's the name I'm using this month."

If he was picking names out of a hat, she thought he ought to try Moles. She'd never seen so many on someone's face.

Still trembling, she made no reply, but her eyes flew back to the ship's railing.

"You can put your fears to rest," he added. "You're too valuable to be harmed."

"Valuable how?" Gabrielle managed to ask, coming slowly to her feet now.

"As a hostage, of course. Passengers are much more lucrative to dispose of than cargoes that might rot before we can find markets for them."

She was starting to feel a smidgen of real relief, just enough for her to stop eyeing the railing. "What about the men?"

He shrugged. "The captain and the officers of a captured ship generally bring decent ransoms, too."

She couldn't tell if he was deliberately trying to put her mind at ease, or if he just liked to talk, because he proceeded to hold forth on the subject of ransoming prisoners.

Gabrielle learned that she and Margery were to be ransomed by her family. The captain never asked her if she had a family, he simply assumed that she did. It just remained for her to tell him whom to contact for the ransom money, and he seemed in no hurry to obtain that information. He and his cronies had other business to dispose of first, like the rest of the captured crew.

Gabrielle looked around the deck. If any of the crewmen had died in the battle, the evidence had been removed before she'd been dragged topside. Avery was lying on the deck, apparently unconscious from a gash on his head, tied up like the other officers and passengers, waiting to be transferred to the other ship. Theirs had sustained severe damage and was already starting to take on water.

Margery was there, too, also tied up, but she was the only prisoner who was gagged as well. She'd probably been too vocal with the pirates, chastising them for their temerity. She didn't care whom she offended when she got the notion to complain.

As for the common sailors, they were given a choice, to join the pirates and take their oath then and there, or to pay a visit to Davy Jones's locker, which meant they'd be tossed into the sea to drown.

Not surprisingly, most of them elected rather quickly to become pirates. One of them, a stout American, refused, and was quite nasty about it.

Gabrielle was forced to watch in horror as two of the pirates approached him, each taking one of his arms and dragging him to the rail. She didn't doubt he was going to be tossed over it. But he didn't change his mind and continued to curse them all right up until they smashed his head against the rail, knocking him out. The pirates laughed uproariously. She didn't see what was the least bit funny about making the man think he was going to die, then not killing him, but those pirates certainly did.

The American was still tossed into the water, but not until the next day when there was land within sight of the ship. It was an uninhabited island, but land nonetheless. He'd probably still die eventually, but at least he was given a chance. He might even be able to hail a passing ship and get rescued. It was a better fate than what Gabrielle had thought would befall him when he'd defied the pirates.

Later that same day they came to another island, which also appeared to be deserted. They'd sailed into the crystal clear waters of a wide bay. Nearly in the center of it was another small island. But as they approached it, Gabrielle could see it wasn't an island at all but a floating jungle of trees, many of them dead, and thick plants, most of them thriving in the dirt and other debris that was piled high on top of boards, not land. It was almost like a cluttered wharf, and yet it was a thickly built jungle, designed to conceal the ships anchored on the other side of it from any passing ships out in the ocean.

The flag of death was hoisted on the two ships that were there now, indicating that there had been disease on them, which might account for their abandoned look.

It didn't take long for the pirates to make their own ship look the same before the small boats were lowered into the water and the prisoners were rowed to shore—and they hoisted a flag of death on their ship as well. Gabrielle realized then the ships were nothing but a ruse to keep any other vessels that might sail into the bay from investigating the abandoned ships.

"Where are we going?" Gabrielle asked the pirate who helped her and Margery out of the rowboat. But apparently he didn't feel it was necessary to answer her. He just nudged her forward.

They began a trek inland. They weren't waiting for everyone to get off the ship, but thankfully, Avery was in the first group to go ashore. It was the first chance she'd had to talk to him since they'd been captured.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he walked alongside her.

"Yes, I'm fine," she assured him.

"No one…touched you?"

"Really, Avery, I haven't been hurt in any way."

"Thank God. I was so worried. You can't imagine."

She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm to be ransomed. Captain Brillaird made it clear to me that I'm too valuable to be harmed. She pointed to the large open cut on his forehead. "How does your head feel? I saw you got knocked out yesterday."

He gingerly touched his wound. "Oh, that's just a scratch."

But Gabrielle could tell from his wince that it must be painful. "From what I gathered from the captain, he plans to ransom you, too."

"I don't know about that," Avery replied with a sigh. "I don't come from a wealthy family."

"Well, I'll speak to my father when he collects me," she said. "I'm sure he'll be able to arrange something to gain your release as well."

But she wasn't the least bit sure that Nathan could even be located. What would happen to her and Avery if the pirates couldn't track down her father?

"That's very kind of you," he said, then added urgently, "but listen to me, Gabrielle. You may have been given assurances, but from listening to this pirate crew, I understand there will be others of the same ilk where we're going. Your best way to come through this safely is to simply not draw attention to yourself. I know that will be difficult, as beautiful as you are, but—"

"Please, you needn't say anything more," she cut in with a blush. "I understand that we won't really be safe until we've seen the last of these cutthroats. I will remain as inconspicuous as possible."

They were separated then when one of the pirates pushed Avery to hurry him along.

The first sign that the island was inhabited was a watchtower they passed along the beaten path. It was built of logs, and was tall enough to have a clear view of the sea in at least three directions. They were climbing into the hills behind it. The tower was occupied, but the fellow in the tiny hut on top of it was asleep as they walked by. Not a very diligent guard, Gabrielle thought as one of the pirates kicked the tower to wake him, while another swore at him in fluid French.

Margery added her own opinion as she came up beside Gabrielle. "Lazy no-goods, the lot of them. Let's hope when help arrives, the guard sleeps through that as well."

Gabrielle would have liked to share that optimism, but the chance of their being rescued before they were ransomed was slim. "Once they find my father—"

"If they find him," Margery cut in. "Since we weren't even sure that we could, what are the chances of that, eh? We never should have undertaken this journey. Didn't I warn you it would be dangerous?"

"You could have stayed home," Gabrielle reminded her. "But it wasn't supposed to be dangerous. Would you have believed that pirates still exist in this day and age if someone had told you? No, you would have scoffed or laughed at them."

"That's beside the point," Margery replied. "But listen to me, before we get separated again. Look for a weapon, any sort, even a fork if you can get your hands on one, and keep it on your person at all times. If one of these bastards starts anything with you, you stick it right in his belly, hear? Don't hesitate."

"I'll remember that."

"You better, girl. If anything happens to you, I don't know what I'd do."

It looked like Margery was about to cry. She was more upset than she was letting on. And her distress was contagious. Gabrielle would have liked nothing better than to cry on her friend's shoulder just then, but she managed to restrain herself and dredged up some courage for both of them.

"You worry too much. We're going to be fine. Captain Brillaird has assured me of that."

That wasn't exactly true, but it was what Margery needed to hear and it got a weak smile out of her.

About a half hour later, they reached a large settlement of sorts high in the hills, surrounded by trees. There was one big building at its center, built of actual lumber that she was to learn had been obtained from one of the ships the pirates had plundered at sea. The rest of the buildings spread out around it were mostly just small thatch-roofed huts. Gabrielle could see through the open doorways that many of the huts were filled with chests and crates, serving as storage sheds for the pirates' ill-gotten gains.

Avery and the other male captives were shoved into one hut and Margery was led away to another, but not before she shouted back at Gabrielle, "Remember! In the belly!"

"Where are you taking her?" Gabrielle protested.

The pirate who was pushing her toward the big building sneered. "Servants don't bring ransoms, but she'll be released with you once the captain's demands are met. You're valuable, so you'll go in here, where it'll be easier to guard you. Don't want any of the mates touching you and interfering with the high ransom you're sure to fetch." He winked at her lewdly, and Gabrielle couldn't help but cringe.

Once inside, the pirate led Gabrielle to a long table in the large room, pushed her down into a chair, then walked away. A bowl of food was set in front of her by a female cook, who remarked in a friendly tone, "Hope you got someone to pay for you, dearie. I delayed as long as I could before I finally had to admit that I didn't have any family left, and that's why I'm still here."

The middle-aged woman who introduced herself as Dora sat down and chatted with Gabrielle for a few minutes. She'd been allowed to stay on the island to work off her ransom. She cooked for the pirates, and apparently serviced them in other ways if she felt like it, all of which she mentioned in an offhanded manner.

She'd been there for two years now and even considered herself one of them, volunteering, "They're not out to make a name for themselves, not like the pirates you might have heard of from the last century. In fact, they change their names frequently, change their ships or the names of them, use disguises. They're in the business of making money, not getting hung. They operate in secrecy now and even change their base every few years."

"Is that what this is, their base?" Gabrielle asked curiously.

Dora nodded. "This one is on an island so remote it's never been named. It's a nice island, too nice actually. A time or two they've had to scare away settlers who also thought so."

"Who leads them?"

"No one. The captains have equal say, and jurisdiction only over their own crews. If something needs to be decided that affects them all, they vote on it."

"How many captains share this base?" Gabrielle asked.

"Five now. There was a sixth, but he died of natural causes last year and his crew joined up among the others."

Gabrielle expressed surprise that the number was so few for what seemed such a large settlement.

"They don't want too many crews here. Figure the more people there are, the greater the chance someone will go rotten and give away the location of the base."

The woman moved away as soon as Captain Brillaird entered the building. Gabrielle had never been given his real name, nor was she to ever learn it. He changed his name so frequently that his men just called him Captain, so she had, too, when she found it necessary to address him. But he merely took note of where she sat, then ignored her for the rest of the day—and the days that followed.

Five days later the captain still hadn't asked her whom to contact for her ransom. She was left to worry over how to explain that while she knew her father would meet their price, she simply didn't know where he could be found. She really didn't think the captain would believe her, and she couldn't imagine what would happen if he didn't. Dora explained that she hadn't been questioned yet because the captain didn't need the information until he was ready to set sail again, and when that would be was anyone's guess. The captain's wife lived on the island and he hadn't seen her in two months.

The pirates ate, slept, drank, gambled, fought, joked, and told stories. Gabrielle slept in a tiny room at the back of the main building, and she was allowed access to the main room each day, so she couldn't complain that her time there was boring. Nerve-wracking, but not boring. Margery was brought in to visit her for a couple of hours each day, and Gabrielle was relieved to see that her former housekeeper was weathering her captivity well, although she complained incessantly about the thin straw mattress she was forced to sleep on and the poor quality of the meals.

On the sixth day of Gabrielle's captivity two more ships arrived and the main room actually got crowded with the new crews. And much more disturbing. There was nothing friendly about the newcomers. Several actually chilled her with a glance. And one of the two new captains stared at her so long, and so intently, she didn't doubt he meant her harm.

Tall and muscular, he was likely in his late thirties or early forties, though it was hard to tell with his full black beard that was so matted, she doubted a comb had ever passed through it. She heard people call him Pierre Lacross, though he probably wasn't really French. So many of the pirates pretended to be something they weren't, and none of them used their real names. But then she found out he was the exception to that rule. He really was French. He had a strong accent that he couldn't turn on and off like the others could. He wasn't ugly, but the cruel glint in his blue eyes marred what might have been a handsome visage.

There was something evil about this man, and she wasn't the only one to recognize it. The other men moved out of his way and avoided catching his eye. But his icy blue eyes kept coming back to Gabrielle, until she was nearly trembling with the fear he managed to inspire.

Gabrielle had left England quite innocent of men's desires. Her mother had never explained what she could expect when she married one. She probably would have done so before Gabrielle had had her Season in London, but Carla had been caught up in her romance with Albert, and then consumed with her own misery at the end when he'd betrayed her. But Gabrielle had learned a tremendous amount about men from the pirates.

They didn't curb their language when she was within hearing distance, and they loved to boast about their sexual conquests. So she had no trouble understanding the motives of the evil captain Pierre Lacross when he leaned over her the day after he'd arrived and said, "I'm going to buy you from my friend. Then it will be my choice what to do with you."

She wished she hadn't understood what he was implying, but she did. Would Captain Brillaird care where the money for her came from as long as he was paid? Did she dare to promise him more than Pierre could possibly pay? That was the only way she could see to avoid being "owned."

There was nowhere to run even if she could manage to sneak out of the building, no way off the island except with the pirates. Captain Brillaird was still her only help and yet she knew he wouldn't help her out of the goodness of his heart. What goodness? He was a pirate! Money was his only concern.

But she knew instinctively that she would come to serious harm if Pierre had his way with her, which was why he terrified her so much. And she was unfortunate enough to witness his cruelty when he disciplined one of his own men. He whipped the man right there in the hall, and not with just any whip. A cat-o'-nine-tails it was called, and it shredded skin as easily as a knife. The look in Pierre's eyes as he wielded it left no doubt in her mind that he was enjoying it.

Pierre grew impatient, waiting for her captain to show up so he could make the transaction. He sat next to her at her table and taunted her with what he planned to do to her.

"Why do you not look at me, chérie ? You ladies, you are filled with too much pride. You will have none left when I am done with you. Look at me!"

She didn't. She'd avoided his gaze since that first day. "Go away, please."

He laughed. "So refined you are. So polite. I wonder how long that will last after I make you my pet. Will you be an obedient pet, chérie, or will I have to punish you often?" He heard the gasp she couldn't hold back and added, "You saw what I am capable of, but do not worry for your sweet, aristocratic skin. I would never mar your beauty. There are other ways to train a pet…"

He taunted, but he never touched her. He was careful not to do that with so many witnesses in the room. But it was obvious he wanted to. Dora told her the forced restraint was causing him such considerable frustration that he got so drunk each night he would stumble outside to pass out somewhere, and not return until the following afternoon.

It was an incredible piece of luck for Gabrielle that Captain Brillaird's wife kept him occupied until the last of the five captains sailed into the harbor. The fifth captain arrived on the island. He entered the building with Captain Brillaird one morning, both of them laughing heartily over something one of them had said. He noticed Gabrielle immediately. He paused and stared at her, then he put his arm around Brillaird's shoulder and offered to buy her. Pierre wasn't there to cry foul, that he'd thought of it first. She was sure he would have, and that there might even have been a fight. But he was still sleeping off his overindulgence of the night before. And Captain Brillaird didn't seem to care one way or the other, just as she'd guessed he wouldn't. She saw him shrug before the two men shook hands and the fifth captain tossed a purse of coins to him.

Gabrielle was in shock. It all happened so quickly. She found out later that the new captain was a middleman. It wasn't the first time he'd bought up hostages on the isle and returned them to their families for a tidy profit. It worked agreeably for all concerned, allowing the other captains to get right back to the business of capturing more ships, instead of dealing with the business side of their trade. He was good at the business side, and disguises. She almost didn't recognize him…

"What in the blazes are you doing here, Gabby, and where is your mother?"

He'd taken her out of the settlement immediately and was pulling her down the well-worn path to the bay. Most of his crew were still anchoring his ship, but a couple of his men whom they passed on the trail were ordered back to the ship without an explanation. When Gabrielle dug in her heels and explained that her housekeeper needed to be rescued, too, one was sent to collect Margery.

She had a thousand questions for him, but they were all forgotten with the reminder of her loss. "She died, Papa. That's why I left England. I was coming to find you, to live with you," she cried. "But not on this island, if it's all the same to you," she added primly.