Pirate's Ransom

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Isabella was left with her back pressed against the door, feeling a bit more than breathless. Who did he think he was? She watched his firm backside stalk away from her and mentally shook herself. He was the enemy, not someone she should oogle. Though, she supposed he was the safest person she had met on the ship thus far.

When he turned his head, her eyes met his for a moment and she pursed her lips. He was waiting for her to follow. Lifting her head with what dignity she could muster, she followed him to the rickety stairwell that was basically more of a ladder. Eyeing it carefully, she was surprised it held his weight. The wood was soft looking and well worn.

A soft fresh breeze wafted downward and she inhaled, breathing in the scent of the ocean.

“Well?” He asked impatiently whilst holding his hand out for her. The broad palm of his hand was upright and she saw the calluses that decorated his fingertips and palm. He was no stranger to hard work, despite the fact that he was the Captain.

She had met quite a few Captains in the armed guard. Most of those men had light colored skin and baby soft hands. She knew because most of them had made an effort to touch her hand, arm, or shoulder, vying for attention. His though, his were obviously from wielding a sword and handling ropes. Just as his golden brown skin told her he and the sun were more than adequately acquainted.

Her gaze moved from his outstretched hand and then upward to where the bright sun was beating down.

“Come on, woman. I don’t have all day.”

She narrowed her eyes at him before stepping carefully up the steps without his help. His extended arm dropped dramatically to his side. 

When she reached the top deck it only took a few moments before the men above and around her became very silent. She willed them to stay that way, as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Within moments they began whistling at her and making foul comments. When her eyes finally adjusted the Captain was behind her. She turned her head to look at him and he lifted a brow.

“I told ye so.”

She frowned at his use of “ye.” The man’s English had been impeccable up till then and she was sure she had heard him say “you” before. The thought was abruptly halted when she turned again to find a rotten toothed man inches away from her. His breath slammed into her face with such force and stench that she had to clasp her hands over her mouth to keep from being sick. Quickly, Isabella searched for an escape route. Anywhere that was away from the numerous pirates staring at her.

At the front of the ship there was no one but a young man. Perhaps the same young man that had given her his clothing and she stepped in his direction before being snagged by the arm by the foul breathed pirate.

“Where de ye think yer goin?”

“Remove your hand, sir.” She bit out, revolted by his touch.

“Sir?” He laughed riotously. “Sir? Hah, Cap didja hear that? I be sir now!” He snorted roughly as a good section of the men around the howled. He dropped his hand to use both to hold his gut as he strode away jolly as ever. His fellow shipmates patted him on the back and called him “sir.”

“They’re a rowdy bunch but for the most part they are decent.” The captain said before she took another step away. “Were are you headed?”

Not that it was any of his business but she pointed. “I am headed to the front.”

He nodded, a lock of dark hair falling forward on his forehead. “The bow.”

“The bow?”

“Yes. That is what the front of the ship is called.”