Revenge of the Fox
Chapter 13
"Would you like a glass of wine, my dear?" Reynard asked as he seated Gwen at the table in his cabin.
"Yes, thank you," said Gwen, looking around. The Vixen was a smaller ship than the Pearl, and the Captain's cabin was correspondingly smaller as well. Her attention was caught by an elaborate coat of arms painted on the wall between the aft windows. "The Barbossa coat of arms?" Gwen asked dryly.
"Not at all," replied Reynard, handing her a glass. "Those are the arms of the ship's previous owner. I haven't had the leisure to have them painted over yet." He sat, and signaled to the cabin boy to serve. As the boy ladled soup into their bowls, Reynard went on. "The Barbossas come from fairly common stock, I'm afraid. Not like your friends the Swanns."
Gwen tasted the soup. Some sort of shellfish, she decided. "That is true, Elizabeth Turner and Antonia Swann are both from noble backgrounds."
"And Commodore Norrington? Tell me about him."
"If you wish to know about the Commodore, why do you not ask his fiancée?"
Reynard shrugged. "She's not here yet, so I'm asking you."
"Very well. He's also from a noble background. Second or third son of a baronet, I believe. His eldest brother holds the family estate somewhere in England. Somerset, maybe? His father's brother was a Captain in the Royal Navy, and James was under his patronage for a while. He came to the Caribbean more than ten years ago, and was promoted to Commodore three years ago."
"Are you on friendly terms with him?"
Gwen answered cautiously, puzzled by the question. "Yes, you could say so. I frequently see him when we are in Port Royal, usually in company with Miss Swann."
"Is Jack Sparrow on friendly terms with him?"
Gwen answered, even more cautiously. "I believe they have a sincere respect and regard for each others abilities, although they generally don't agree on a personal level."
Reynard raised his brows. "My source tells me that Jack delights in irritating the Commodore."
"Their personalities tend to clash," Gwen allowed.
"So, tell me about yourself, my dear."
"There isn't much to tell," Gwen said. "My father was a merchant captain, the Jamaica Star. A pirate killed him two years ago. I met Captain Sparrow shortly afterward, and I have been with him since."
"I'm very surprised, my dear, that you would become involved with a pirate when your father was murdered by one."
"There are pirates and there are pirates," said Gwen. "Surely you know that."
"Yes indeed. And Sparrow is one of the soft, spineless ones, is he not? Not to mention that he sold out the Brethren by turning privateer."
Gwen's smile showed a hint of anger. "Yet he is more successful that you, is he not?" She gestured toward the coat of arms on the wall. "That paint appears fairly fresh, and yet it belonged to the ship's previous owner. You haven't had this ship very long, have you?"
"No, madam, I have not," stated Reynard, a flash of temper in his own eyes. "But when I have killed Sparrow and taken the Pearl from him, I will be the most feared pirate in the Caribbean."
"How are you planning on doing that?" Gwen asked sweetly.
Reynard smiled broadly. "Oh, that is my little secret, cherie." He signaled to the cabin boy to serve the main course. Pork, it looked like.
"What will become of us, Captain? Mrs. Turner, Miss Swan, Miss Simone and myself?"
Reynard shrugged. "With your husbands and lovers dead, you will have no reason to return to Jamaica, will you not? I might ransom Mrs. Turner and Miss Swann back to the Governor, unless of course, I can get a better price selling them to those who deal in pretty girls."
Gwen lifted a brow. "Is that to be my fate as well? A brothel in some waterfront city?"
"Perhaps," he replied. "Perhaps not. That depends on you, my dear." He picked up her hand and kissed it. "You might do better to be kinder to me, my dear. I might be persuaded to be kinder to you."
Gwen suppressed her first instinct to pull her hand away and left it in his grasp. "Throw my lot in with you? Turn my back on my husband?"
"Loyalty can be a misplaced virtue," he reminded her. "And you will be a widow soon enough."
This time Gwen did pull her hand away. "You've far from convinced me that you have any hope of succeeding in your plan to do away with my husband. Why should I ally myself with a man who might not succeed? Did you not turn from your own brother for a similar reason? Why should I turn from Jack?"
Reynard set down his fork and signaled for the cabin boy to remove the dishes. The boy set a brandy decanter on the table and left. Reynard poured two glasses and offered one to Gwen. "I haven't any sherry, my dear. I hope you will not mind."
Gwen accepted the glass. "Not at all. I have no objection to brandy."
Reynard sat back with his glass. "To answer your question, my dear, you should turn away from Sparrow because he is going to lose. I will kill him because he is weak. He lives by his wits, not his might. I am as clever as he, cherie, and I am stronger. He cannot win."
Gwen sipped her brandy. "Why me? Why are you not interested in the other three women? All of them are more attractive than I am."
"I am interested in you, Gwen, because Sparrow is. Oh, I grant you, they others are beautiful. Elizabeth Turner is known to be extremely clever, and Annamaria Simone is known to be very strong willed. But none of them managed to capture Jack Sparrow. Only you have done that. It intrigues me." He moved his chair closer and ran a finger over the tops of her breasts, revealed by the low cut gown. "And you are not unattractive, cherie. Not at all. I would not be at all displeased to find you in my bed at the end of the day."
Gwen forced herself to breathe normally. "What does that mean? Are you asking me to become your mistress?"
"Aye," he whispered. Leaning closer he bent to kiss her.
Gwen jerked her head aside, preventing him. "I have terms which must be met before I can agree to such a thing."
Reynard leaned back again. "Terms?"
"The other three women must be given their freedom. They must be returned to Port Royal unharmed and unmolested. I'll not come to you willingly until this is done."
Anger flashed in Reynard's eyes again. "You are not in any position to dictate terms to me, my sweet." He jerked her to her feet. "You are prisoner aboard my ship and your life belongs to me. If I want you, I'll have you."
Gwen narrowed her eyes. "Will that satisfy you, do you think?"
Reynard grinned evilly. "Let's find out."
He swept her into his arms and dropped her unceremoniously onto the bunk. Gwen closed her eyes and willed her body not to react. Don't fight him, she thought. He wants you to. Resistance will only excite him. Be cold. Freeze him out. She kept her eyes closed as she felt his weight on her, felt his hands yank the laces of her bodice loose, felt his mouth hard on her own. Do nothing. Do not react. It was working. A moment later he raised his head to look at her. She opened her eyes, and let all the icy distain she felt show in them.
"I've seen more life in a half dead whore," he said sarcastically. "You've made your point, my dear. I can only assume you aren't so cold with Sparrow."
Gwen lifted a brow. "No, he has never accused me of coldness. He finds me quite.passionate enough for his taste."
"Does he?"
"Jack Sparrow is a man who greatly enjoys his physical pleasures, Captain Reynard." Gwen spoke with the lowest, most seductive voice she could manage. "He would never have married me if I didn't suit him perfectly in that regard."
He slid off of her to sit on the edge of the bunk. "And I suppose you decline to show me this.passion until your terms are met?"
Gwen smiled slightly. "Perhaps you are as clever as you say you are." She pushed herself up to a sitting position and started lacing her bodice again.
"And if I find you don't suit me?"
Gwen smiled seductively. "Oh I think you'll find I do." She trailed her fingers down his chest and over his thigh. "I think you'll find I suit you very well." He leaned to kiss her, and she ducked away again. "When my terms are met, Captain. Not before."
"Very well then." Reynard stood up. "You won't be returning to the brig, madam. You'll be sleeping in a cabin instead. While we're still in port you'll be locked in, but once we put to sea you'll have freedom of the ship. Your behavior during this time will help me determine if I will accept your terms once Sparrow is dead. Your friends will suffer if you make any attempt to escape or hinder me in any way, is that clear?"
"Very clear, sir."
Ten minutes later, Gwen was alone in the tiny cabin she'd been shown to. She sank unto the bunk, exhausted. For the first time since she'd been taken from the Governor's house she was well and truly alone. Since there was no one to see her, no one to know if she dropped her guard, she fell to weeping. Tomorrow she would be strong again, she promised herself. Tomorrow. But for tonight, she allowed herself to miss Jack for the first time since she'd been torn from him. To think of his wolfish grin, his steady hands, the absurd collection of beads in his hair and his kohl rimmed eyes. To remember the feel of his touch, the warmth of his arms. To wonder if she'd ever see him again.
--
Chapter 13
"Would you like a glass of wine, my dear?" Reynard asked as he seated Gwen at the table in his cabin.
"Yes, thank you," said Gwen, looking around. The Vixen was a smaller ship than the Pearl, and the Captain's cabin was correspondingly smaller as well. Her attention was caught by an elaborate coat of arms painted on the wall between the aft windows. "The Barbossa coat of arms?" Gwen asked dryly.
"Not at all," replied Reynard, handing her a glass. "Those are the arms of the ship's previous owner. I haven't had the leisure to have them painted over yet." He sat, and signaled to the cabin boy to serve. As the boy ladled soup into their bowls, Reynard went on. "The Barbossas come from fairly common stock, I'm afraid. Not like your friends the Swanns."
Gwen tasted the soup. Some sort of shellfish, she decided. "That is true, Elizabeth Turner and Antonia Swann are both from noble backgrounds."
"And Commodore Norrington? Tell me about him."
"If you wish to know about the Commodore, why do you not ask his fiancée?"
Reynard shrugged. "She's not here yet, so I'm asking you."
"Very well. He's also from a noble background. Second or third son of a baronet, I believe. His eldest brother holds the family estate somewhere in England. Somerset, maybe? His father's brother was a Captain in the Royal Navy, and James was under his patronage for a while. He came to the Caribbean more than ten years ago, and was promoted to Commodore three years ago."
"Are you on friendly terms with him?"
Gwen answered cautiously, puzzled by the question. "Yes, you could say so. I frequently see him when we are in Port Royal, usually in company with Miss Swann."
"Is Jack Sparrow on friendly terms with him?"
Gwen answered, even more cautiously. "I believe they have a sincere respect and regard for each others abilities, although they generally don't agree on a personal level."
Reynard raised his brows. "My source tells me that Jack delights in irritating the Commodore."
"Their personalities tend to clash," Gwen allowed.
"So, tell me about yourself, my dear."
"There isn't much to tell," Gwen said. "My father was a merchant captain, the Jamaica Star. A pirate killed him two years ago. I met Captain Sparrow shortly afterward, and I have been with him since."
"I'm very surprised, my dear, that you would become involved with a pirate when your father was murdered by one."
"There are pirates and there are pirates," said Gwen. "Surely you know that."
"Yes indeed. And Sparrow is one of the soft, spineless ones, is he not? Not to mention that he sold out the Brethren by turning privateer."
Gwen's smile showed a hint of anger. "Yet he is more successful that you, is he not?" She gestured toward the coat of arms on the wall. "That paint appears fairly fresh, and yet it belonged to the ship's previous owner. You haven't had this ship very long, have you?"
"No, madam, I have not," stated Reynard, a flash of temper in his own eyes. "But when I have killed Sparrow and taken the Pearl from him, I will be the most feared pirate in the Caribbean."
"How are you planning on doing that?" Gwen asked sweetly.
Reynard smiled broadly. "Oh, that is my little secret, cherie." He signaled to the cabin boy to serve the main course. Pork, it looked like.
"What will become of us, Captain? Mrs. Turner, Miss Swan, Miss Simone and myself?"
Reynard shrugged. "With your husbands and lovers dead, you will have no reason to return to Jamaica, will you not? I might ransom Mrs. Turner and Miss Swann back to the Governor, unless of course, I can get a better price selling them to those who deal in pretty girls."
Gwen lifted a brow. "Is that to be my fate as well? A brothel in some waterfront city?"
"Perhaps," he replied. "Perhaps not. That depends on you, my dear." He picked up her hand and kissed it. "You might do better to be kinder to me, my dear. I might be persuaded to be kinder to you."
Gwen suppressed her first instinct to pull her hand away and left it in his grasp. "Throw my lot in with you? Turn my back on my husband?"
"Loyalty can be a misplaced virtue," he reminded her. "And you will be a widow soon enough."
This time Gwen did pull her hand away. "You've far from convinced me that you have any hope of succeeding in your plan to do away with my husband. Why should I ally myself with a man who might not succeed? Did you not turn from your own brother for a similar reason? Why should I turn from Jack?"
Reynard set down his fork and signaled for the cabin boy to remove the dishes. The boy set a brandy decanter on the table and left. Reynard poured two glasses and offered one to Gwen. "I haven't any sherry, my dear. I hope you will not mind."
Gwen accepted the glass. "Not at all. I have no objection to brandy."
Reynard sat back with his glass. "To answer your question, my dear, you should turn away from Sparrow because he is going to lose. I will kill him because he is weak. He lives by his wits, not his might. I am as clever as he, cherie, and I am stronger. He cannot win."
Gwen sipped her brandy. "Why me? Why are you not interested in the other three women? All of them are more attractive than I am."
"I am interested in you, Gwen, because Sparrow is. Oh, I grant you, they others are beautiful. Elizabeth Turner is known to be extremely clever, and Annamaria Simone is known to be very strong willed. But none of them managed to capture Jack Sparrow. Only you have done that. It intrigues me." He moved his chair closer and ran a finger over the tops of her breasts, revealed by the low cut gown. "And you are not unattractive, cherie. Not at all. I would not be at all displeased to find you in my bed at the end of the day."
Gwen forced herself to breathe normally. "What does that mean? Are you asking me to become your mistress?"
"Aye," he whispered. Leaning closer he bent to kiss her.
Gwen jerked her head aside, preventing him. "I have terms which must be met before I can agree to such a thing."
Reynard leaned back again. "Terms?"
"The other three women must be given their freedom. They must be returned to Port Royal unharmed and unmolested. I'll not come to you willingly until this is done."
Anger flashed in Reynard's eyes again. "You are not in any position to dictate terms to me, my sweet." He jerked her to her feet. "You are prisoner aboard my ship and your life belongs to me. If I want you, I'll have you."
Gwen narrowed her eyes. "Will that satisfy you, do you think?"
Reynard grinned evilly. "Let's find out."
He swept her into his arms and dropped her unceremoniously onto the bunk. Gwen closed her eyes and willed her body not to react. Don't fight him, she thought. He wants you to. Resistance will only excite him. Be cold. Freeze him out. She kept her eyes closed as she felt his weight on her, felt his hands yank the laces of her bodice loose, felt his mouth hard on her own. Do nothing. Do not react. It was working. A moment later he raised his head to look at her. She opened her eyes, and let all the icy distain she felt show in them.
"I've seen more life in a half dead whore," he said sarcastically. "You've made your point, my dear. I can only assume you aren't so cold with Sparrow."
Gwen lifted a brow. "No, he has never accused me of coldness. He finds me quite.passionate enough for his taste."
"Does he?"
"Jack Sparrow is a man who greatly enjoys his physical pleasures, Captain Reynard." Gwen spoke with the lowest, most seductive voice she could manage. "He would never have married me if I didn't suit him perfectly in that regard."
He slid off of her to sit on the edge of the bunk. "And I suppose you decline to show me this.passion until your terms are met?"
Gwen smiled slightly. "Perhaps you are as clever as you say you are." She pushed herself up to a sitting position and started lacing her bodice again.
"And if I find you don't suit me?"
Gwen smiled seductively. "Oh I think you'll find I do." She trailed her fingers down his chest and over his thigh. "I think you'll find I suit you very well." He leaned to kiss her, and she ducked away again. "When my terms are met, Captain. Not before."
"Very well then." Reynard stood up. "You won't be returning to the brig, madam. You'll be sleeping in a cabin instead. While we're still in port you'll be locked in, but once we put to sea you'll have freedom of the ship. Your behavior during this time will help me determine if I will accept your terms once Sparrow is dead. Your friends will suffer if you make any attempt to escape or hinder me in any way, is that clear?"
"Very clear, sir."
Ten minutes later, Gwen was alone in the tiny cabin she'd been shown to. She sank unto the bunk, exhausted. For the first time since she'd been taken from the Governor's house she was well and truly alone. Since there was no one to see her, no one to know if she dropped her guard, she fell to weeping. Tomorrow she would be strong again, she promised herself. Tomorrow. But for tonight, she allowed herself to miss Jack for the first time since she'd been torn from him. To think of his wolfish grin, his steady hands, the absurd collection of beads in his hair and his kohl rimmed eyes. To remember the feel of his touch, the warmth of his arms. To wonder if she'd ever see him again.
--
