Paid to the Pirate by Una Rohr

Chapter 36

Colt, the past

Iglimpsed the side curvature of a small, milky breast, and blinked, attempting to clear my vision.

Why did Charlie have breasts? Why was he being whipped? And why hadn’t Robert come to me first?

Charlie spun and thrust himself back against the wood, but not before I caught sight of a pert, pink nipple. A supple female breast and nipple.

What the fuck was going on?

I must have gone mad, I thought, storming across the deck and shoving Robert aside.

Had I thought about it rationally, I might have made an attempt to protect any modesty necessary, but I was possessed with disbelief as I spun Charlie forward and tore the remainder of his shirt from his boyish torso.

As I stared at two small, pert breasts, I shook my head, sure I was dreaming.

What the fuck is going on?

With his hands tied high, Charlie whimpered, hiding his face against his shoulder.

Her. Her? Could it really be? Tilting Charlie’s head up by the chin, I gazed at his face, studying the delicate, feminine nose and soft jawline that never failed to catch my attention and confound me. Those long lashes framing wide, hazel eyes and pink, full lips. I turned his -- her -- head left and right, studying Charlie’s fright. He -- she? -- had been rib-thin when we’d taken him, but tall, like a boy. Or was it that Charlie was average height for a boy and unusually tall for a girl?

Jesus. A girl. Her curves stunted from malnourishment or stress, blossoming when fully fed upon our ship.

I released a short laugh at myself. There’d be time later to indulge privately in a longer one and to maybe smash something. I couldn’t decide between humor and rage. She’d fooled me. Fooled us all.

Oh, you lying little wench.

“Punish him for stealing!” someone in the back yelled. “Get on w’ it!”

I realized only those nearest could see the truth and I set my mind, making the cruel decision to continue her exposure.

“Him?” I asked, stepping aside so that the remainder of the crew could see for themselves what I’d glimpsed from the side. Charlie’s arms reflexively tried to cover her chest, but they were tied. She again buried her head against her shoulder. I could hear her crying softly above the stunned silence.

You brought this on yourself, I thought. Would you prefer I kept your secret and let them whip you?

“A girl?” they echoed, scratching their heads.

“It’s her fault for that mess back in Nassau. Bad luck to have a woman aboard!”

“Toss her into the sea!”

“Whip her anyway!”

“Punish her for lying!”

“He ain’t no girl. Let’s see the rest of ’im,” Robert demanded, stepping forward as if to pull down his breeches.

I wondered if it was instinct when Charlie cringed toward my chest for protection, as if deciding I was the lesser of two evils.

It was my instinct to protect her. But it was my decision that I become her punisher, as well.

The lesser of two evils.

“I can see with my own eyes, my captain’s eyes, that this is a girl. And I’ll further confirm it after she’s sufficiently punished back in my cabin. In a manner befitting her status as a woman,” I said, feeling Charlie shudder against me.

“Punish her for stealing!”

“I wasn’t stealing,” Charlie whimpered. “I just needed to change my soiled… rags.” She turned her head down, clearly embarrassed and scared.

Good. How dare she lie to us for almost two years? Make a bloody fool of my captaincy?

A girl. Charlie is a girl.

“Punish her, captain!” the crew cried, echoing the desire rising in my chest. We wanted the same thing, I just wanted it in a manner I had difficulty sorting out as I mentally shifted from thinking of Charlie as a boy, to seeing her as the girl she was.

There was another emotion I didn’t want to admit.

Relief.

How many times had I stared long at Charlie with a fondness other than friendly? Other than one of mentorship and protectiveness, just like any other member of my crew? How many times had I questioned things about myself for my attraction to a boy?

Could this even be real? Or was she some mystery of the sea? A siren or enchantress?

Still forced on display, Charlie sobbed, and I spared some pity. Using my dirk, I cut her ropes, quickly shrugged out of my coat, and covered her.

“Colt.” Maurice’s voice was a caution, a warning.

“I’ve got it under control,” I dismissed. I looked over my shoulder to see him standing above everyone, surveying the chaos. Allowing it. The bloodthirsty side of Maurice had likely given Robert the permission he needed. Maybe this was another of Maurice’s games, pitting Robert and I against each other or using Robert to test me. Perhaps the men would be stirred to replace me if this didn’t play out in my favor. Robert was always nipping at my heels to take my place as captain.

Devil’s bones. Now was not the time to lose control of the crew. Not when I now had an errant girl loose on a ship full of men. Maurice would never hurt her in that particular manner -- he had a type of woman and Charlie wasn’t it. But he wouldn’t protect her either. Besides, Maurice loved a good whipping.

I braced for an argument, but eyes locked, Maurice gave a dip of his head in something between permission and agreement. I was a little surprised that he didn’t encourage the bloodlust of the crew, but I knew he had his reasons. Maurice did nothing without good reason.

No time to speculate on it now.

“Who are you?” I growled, turning back to Charlie.

“I’m Charlie!” she foolishly insisted. As if her breasts hadn’t been in plain view seconds before.

My hand rose high in the air, a threat to strike, and Charlie cringed in anticipation. “Lie to me again and see what happens. For the last time, who are you?”

“I – I’m Charlotte Clarke. Daughter of Edmund Clarke, the man you slew in his own home!” she cried the words with a wrath I could practically feel coming off her in waves, as if she’d waited years to declare them with her true tongue.

“How old are you, really?”

“Eighteen,” she whispered.

A girl of eighteen, passing as a boy of sixteen. She’d been scrawny enough to look fourteen when we found her. Eighteen. Jesus. Just coming into womanhood and finding it harder to hide her distinction aboard a ship full of men.

A woman with a mere few years of difference between our ages. Old enough to marry, to bear children.

With me, came the unexpected and desirous thought.

No. We were but a few years apart in age but leagues apart in life experience -- save whatever she’d learned aboard a pirate’s ship for the past year and a half. Charlie possessed no ability to read and had little experience with the world outside her small town or The Dark Blade.

What would she look like if her hair grew out? What did she look like underneath those breeches?

What to do with her now?

How could I have mistaken her for the past year and a half? Those full, pink lips and those high cheekbones. The way she moved.

It moved things inside me I’d hated to admit. I’d resented those thoughts, late at night in the darkness of my cabin. It hadn’t stopped them.

Now I understood.

Charlie made fools of us all, but no one more than me. If I didn’t punish her, if I didn’t reassert my authority, it would weaken my command. If that happened and someone like Robert organized a mutiny, she’d truly be in trouble. Even now, I could easily guess which of my men would be glad if I commanded she was to be raped and thrown overboard this night.

Charlie gave me no choice but to punish her. Loudly. Thoroughly. Shamefully.

And truthfully, my fury was glad for it.