Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

For a useful summary of the plot thus far, please consult the Chapter Links before reading.

by kinkys_sis and kinkychic

My lover Marianna had just called herself “the captain’s woman.” I loved the thought of it as I repeated it in my mind several times. But then, I began to think of the problems. Her next words were uncanny, as though she had read my mind.

 “What will we do, Bren? May I stay with you? Does this pirate code of yours allow that?”

My mind had already been churning over those very thoughts. I didn’t yet know Marianna’s situation – what had happened that would lead her to give up a comfortable life ashore? Besides, it had taken time for some members of the crew to accept me as captain. Would they acquiesce to the presence of another woman on board, especially one who enjoyed the captain’s special favour? Then there were the hazards of our trade: how could I ask Marianna to put her life at risk?

I told her of my thoughts and my worries until she put a finger to my lips. “Shush, my love. You live with danger, so why shouldn’t I? I would share it with you. I could prove to your men that I am quite capable of fighting alongside them.”

“It would take a good deal to convince them.”

She pointed at the crossed pair of rapiers that hung on the bulkhead. “Can you use those? Or are they just for display?”

“Of course I can use them, though I prefer a cutlass. Why?”

“We, my love, will give them a demonstration of my skills. I have been well taught. I might surprise you.”

I had the gun captain solder a musket ball to the tip of each rapier, while Marianna rummaged through my sea chest in search of more practical clothes.

After our eyes had adjusted to the brilliant sunlight, I called the first mate to have the men stand down. He was also the only other person aboard familiar with the rapier, and so he would judge the contest. There would be no rules other than the first to make three strikes against her opponent would be declared the winner.

I took nothing for granted. I knew that most of the Spanish aristocracy were skilled with the rapier. But I was tougher and better muscled than Marianna, and I thought, more used to fighting.

Her smile was as dazzling as ever, but I saw the glint in her eyes. The moment she took up her stance, I knew I would have to be at my best.

She moved with the lightness of a cat as we began to circle before she suddenly lunged. One foot stamped forward, the rapiers touched, then she caught me by surprise when she pirouetted. With one flick of her wrist, the tip of her rapier was against my throat. Had we been fighting in earnest, I would have been dead. The crew had been raising a din with their cheers and shouting, with a few even placing bets, but now, having just witnessed a demonstration of true skill with a weapon, they fell silent.

The umpire awarded the first strike to Marianna and called us to take our stances once again. Her speed astounded me. She easily parried every attempt I made at a strike. Then I abruptly surged forward, and at the same time, used my superior strength to bat her weapon aside. It was now one strike each.

So it continued. She clearly was more skilful than I, but my strength made it an even contest. We both gained another strike, after which we settled into a more defensive mode, each respecting the other’s prowess. It seemed it would end in a stalemate until, in a clinch, she whispered, “Be ready, my love, you will finish it now. It wouldn’t do for the captain to lose.”

I clearly saw her overstretch. The first mate might have known, but no one else would. One firm snap of my wrist, crossing our blades, then a clanging, sidelong swat, and her rapier went flying.

I didn’t make the strike. Instead, I saluted her. She inclined her head to me. I took her hand and raised it high as we faced the cheering crew.

I waited for them to quiet a bit, before raising my hand for silence.

“I am not far from being the youngest aboard the Siren, and I am a woman. Yet you’ve accepted me as your captain. You have learned to trust me, and to follow my decisions without question. In these things, you have honoured me. Now I ask a favour of you. In this I cannot command you. It is your choice to make.”

I had to again wait for the babble of conversation to die down.

“This lady wishes to come aboard, not as a passenger, but to be one of us, to fight alongside us. I believe she has just demonstrated her ability to do that. She would be my … she will be the captain’s woman.” I braced for another outburst, but they remained quiet, even stunned. Some seemed amused, but others were looking decidedly cross.

“She will not give orders. She asks for no special treatment – other than you treat her as a lady. I will allow an hour for your decision.” I began to turn away, but Marianna held my arm, facing the crew on her own.

“Many of you do not know me,” she said. “A few possibly remember me from the last time I was a guest aboard the Siren. Your Captain LaFarge, the bosun, and of course your present captain were my good friends. I expect to be given nothing. Indeed, I shall bring a dowry when my small estate is sold. That dowry will be shared equally among you all. Do not hold it against me that I am Spanish. I left there some years ago. I have no allegiance to Spain. In fact, I hated my father.”

She paused, giving them time to absorb her words. “One last thing: your ship is the Siren, and your black flag is adorned with a mermaid. Might it not bring good fortune to have two mermaids aboard?

“Captain,” she concluded, “will you walk with me?” And we turned our backs on the crew, quite ostentatiously holding hands.

Back in my cabin, Marianna asked, “If the crew decide in my favour, could you either wait here a few days or otherwise return shortly? I need time to dispose of my estate. It won’t be difficult. Two other owners have expressed interest in buying me out. My estate is not large, but is very well situated.”

I considered a moment. “We dare not have the ship waiting here. There’s a character named Hornigold. He was one of us, but now he’s turned traitor. He’s working with the authorities, tracking down and capturing pirates. He has several ships at his disposal. Sometimes, even a British frigate. If he caught us here, we could be in trouble. I rather think he might consider me to be a pirate regardless of the signed warrant I hold.”

The first mate knocked. “Would you care to come on deck, Captain…?” Then he floundered. “Er, what do I call you ma’am?”

“Why, that’s quite simple, sir. I shall be Maria or Mary, whichever the crew prefer. May I presume from your question that the vote went in my favour?”

“All bar one… er… Miss Mary..”

The ship would sail without us. I instructed the first mate, Jensen, to make a slow circuit around the islands, keeping well out of sight. He would return in three days if all was clear.

***

We climbed onto the bustling jetty of Road Town, where a smartly dressed black man greeted us. “I was beginning to worry, Marianna; you have been gone so long.” He spoke to her, but his eyes were warily looking me over. He saw the pair of pistols at my belt as well as the hanging cutlass. I must have been a strange sight to him. So young, yet clearly a well-armed pirate.

She saw his look. “This is Captain… Bren, Josh. She will be coming back with us. There is a lot for us to discuss after we get home.” She looked back at me. “Do you know, Bren, I don’t know your surname, how strange to know everything about you, but not your full name.”

“Dawlish, Brenda Dawlish. And Josh, there’s no need to look so alarmed. Marianna and I have known each other a very long time.”

The open carriage that Josh beckoned over seemed very grand to me. I had never ridden on one before. Another black man was driving the fine pair of horses.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting so long, there were important decisions to be made,” Marianna said. “Have you both eaten?”

The driver answered her. “Yes, Marianna, but we were getting a bit worr–”

She waved her hand. “Everything is fine, Desmond, but thank you for your concern.”

I had noticed how they addressed her by her Christian name and the friendly way she spoke to them. I asked her how it was slaves would be so forward.

She laughed as she told me she didn’t own slaves. All her servants and workers were freedmen. Josh was her overseer. She admitted it was somewhat unusual in the West Indies, but not so much on this island. Many of the plantations employed freedmen.

Josh turned around to speak, but then he saw how we held hands and sat so close to each other. He raised an eyebrow before turning away again.

Marianna sighed. “I may as well tell you now, Josh, you will soon see, anyway. The captain is my long-lost sweetheart, come back to me.”

“But Marianna, you are only nineteen now, that must mean… you would have been a child. And the captain is hardly much older than you. How can that be – lovers? Impossible!”

“Oh, but we were. Indeed, we are. So don’t be too shocked, please.”

Once more he turned and gave me a searching look. I smiled back. “It’s true, all of it.”

We went on in silence.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. I had a picture in my mind of some sprawling Spanish hacienda. But the house I saw as we rounded the final corner was nothing like I imagined. It was comfortable-looking, and to my eyes, even luxurious, but certainly no mansion. It had a distinctive French air about it with a long, covered verandah running the length of the facade. The windows had brightly painted, hurricane-proof shutters that contrasted with the pale blue of the rest of the building. A sign hung above the front steps, adorned with a mermaid and the letters ‘M’ and ‘B’ on either side.

Marianna heard my gasp. “You see…?”

Josh now looked from one to the other of us. “Marianna and Bren. I wondered what they stood for, but I didn’t presume to ask. Now, all is clear.”

Strangely, I had never been inside a real house. I didn’t count the ramshackle hovels I had first lived in. Other than that, the Siren had been my home.

Upon crossing the threshold, I found myself in a cool, dark room. The walls were a foot thick, to shield the interior from the tropical heat, and for a time I could see nothing but the glare from the windows. As my eyes adjusted, however, I stood in awe of the riches before me. Such splendour! Ornately carved furniture of rich mahogany, and what looked to me to be a king’s ransom of art on the walls.

Marianna explained that the paintings had come with the house. She herself had not procured any of them – but for two. I knew instantly which two she meant.

A large oil painting depicted two ships exchanging broadsides. One of the ships flew a black flag with the vague outline of a mermaid. The artist had managed to capture the mixture of excitement and terror of a sea battle.

But what stunned me was the portrait of the young girl, lying on a cot, in what was clearly a ship’s cabin, and she was naked. It wasn’t exactly me, but it was near enough for me to know that it had been the intention. The deciding factor was the title, emblazoned on a plaque at the base of the frame – My Pirate.

“The artist got very cross with me when he painted that,” Marianna explained. “I had to try and describe what you looked like. He did sketch after sketch before I said it would do. She is pretty, I think, but she hardly does you justice.”

Marianna rang a small bell, and there appeared a young girl. She was perhaps fourteen years old, and as black as pitch.

“Ah, Daphne, this is my friend Bren. She will be staying with us for a few days, would you please tell the cook, and then prepare a bath for us.”

Daphne seemed quite put out at the sight of my guns and cutlass.

“Oh, don’t worry, Daphne,” Marianna said lightly. “She’s only a pirate.”

I thought the poor girl was going to faint on the spot, but she quickly recovered her poise. “Which room shall I prepare for Bren, Marianna?”

We couldn’t help ourselves. We burst out laughing before Marianna explained to the bewildered servant, “She will be in my room. This, Daphne, is my pirate.” And she gestured toward the painting.

The girl’s eyes were as large as saucers as she glanced from the painting to me. Hesitantly, she said. “That is you. Yes, I can see the likeness, except you are a little older now.” Then she scurried away.

***

It had been a long day. A great deal had happened. A bath would be welcome. Then I realised … a bath, and with sweet water. Such luxury!

And Marianna would give this all up for me? I couldn’t let her do it.

The bathroom was as large as my cabin aboard the Siren. And the tub! I had never seen one so large, nor one made of white porcelain – I had long been used to washing from an old tin pail. For a time I simply gazed at the deep water and the layer of white foam that floated upon it. Whatever could it be? I had not the slightest idea.

I was taken aback when Daphne began to undress Marianna. I had been looking forward to doing that myself. There did not appear to be anything playful or sensual about it. She was simply performing her duty. When she had finished, and Marianna was naked, the girl turned to me, at a loss, for the moment, over how to approach my mannish clothes. She gave a small strangled screech when she saw the scar across my ribs. I was sure I heard her tutting to herself when she saw the thick growth around my pussy.

“Call for me after you have bathed. I shall tidy that for you,” she said, as clinically as a doctor preparing to lance a boil. “Will there be anything else, Marianna?”

“You may bring us some more warm water in a bit.”

The girl curtsied, ever so slightly, then turned on her heel and left.

The water was soft and seductive as I settled into the mysterious, fragrant foam. Marianna sat opposite me, but I beckoned for her to come lie in my arms. Would I ever want to go back on a ship again?

She leaned her head back and looked up at me. “Are you happy, my love? Are you glad I found you?”

“Yes, my darling, Marianna. Far more than you could imagine.” Our lips came together.

Her breasts showed through the bubbles, and I cupped them in my hands. She sighed into my mouth as I gently massaged them. The increasing thrust of her nipples into my palms was a delight to me, and I felt, more than heard, the soft moan in her throat when I slipped a hand downward, through her downy hairs to the lips of her pussy. I fluttered my fingers, slowly teasing her open before I penetrated her warmth. Already, I could feel the swollen lump of her clit beneath. She clutched my legs as her hips rose to my touch.

I vaguely heard a gentle knock, but I paid it no mind, as I was preoccupied by Marianna’s moaning, which was growing louder and deeper. Then some sixth sense made me glance up. There was Daphne, holding her pail of water.

Her expression was one of awe and … jealousy? I closed my eyes again, pointedly ignoring the girl’s presence. She was the servant. I was the guest. If I wanted to kiss and fondle her mistress, that was my right, and she must be content to see to my comfort. Marianna’s mouth opened to my pressing tongue.

There was a splash of water – was it Daphne emptying her pail or my lover’s legs jerking? The warmth at my feet told me it had been Daphne. She was still there, though I was past caring. My mind was wholly focussed on the climax my love was now striving for.

My hand at her breast gripped her firmly as she rose, her hips rocked, and my fingers fucked her pussy. Soon my sweetheart was coming for me. I opened my eyes, to see my love’s expression, but what I saw was Daphne, her hand over her mouth, and tears rolling down her dusky cheeks. She saw me look, then she turned and ran back through the doorway. I clearly heard the sob as she closed the door.

Marianna seemed oblivious to what had just happened. “My God, that was so wonderful,” she said. “Earlier today, we had had our lust for each other, but this was you making love to me. And now… it is your turn.”

She urged me up until I was sitting on the side of the bath. I almost laughed at the sight of my foam-covered pussy. But the touch of her lips on my leg soon stoked the arousal I had already built up.

Her kisses travelled up my thighs until her face was buried in the foam and her tongue trailed along my pussy lips. I rested my hands on the side of the bath, leaning back against the wall as I eased my arse forwards, spreading my legs wide.

I wanted to shut my eyes, but at the same time, I wanted to watch her devour me. She blew hard, and the foam flew in all directions. Her fingers pushed at my hood, and she smiled as my clit appeared. She glanced up at me when her lips enclosed me… and she sucked.

Her finger sank between my lips, caressing the inside of my cunt. Slowly, she began to fuck me, even as she went on sucking and tickling me with her lips and tongue.

I closed my eyes, the better to absorb these astonishing feelings. So she made love to me, and on and on it went. My body began to tighten. My arms trembled from holding my weight as I tried to push myself even closer to her. She must have sensed my difficulty, for her hand went under my arse to give support. Whether she intended it or not, I have no idea, but a finger pressed against my arsehole.

My eyes flew open at the touch, and I saw that she was as shocked as I was. But her expression soon changed. It became mischievous. For a moment she stopped licking and fucking, she just gazed up at me. Then her finger pressed harder.

I was in turmoil. Only the drunken louts at the tavern had ever dared to probe my arsehole, and ever since those days, the very idea was enough to fill me with disgust. But when Marianna suddenly tickled around the rim, I realised how good it felt. I closed my eyes again and lay my head back. Now, her finger pressed with urgent intent, and once more she began to fuck my pussy and suck my clit.

My arse resisted the intrusion at first, but the juices seeping from my cunt and coating her fingers proved to be my downfall. Of a sudden, I felt myself open, and Marianna’s finger slid deep into my nether hole.

My climax came rushing over me. Marianna knew it and fucked me faster … front and rear. It was when she nibbled at my clit that my orgasm exploded. Somehow, she held me up as wave after wave shook me.

Finally, I mumbled, “Enough… no more, please.”

She helped me as I slid back down into her arms.

No words were spoken, no kisses exchanged. We merely held each other, slowly rocking on our knees.

When we finally separated, she said, “God!” at the same time I exclaimed, “Fuck!”

“Bren, you didn’t mind where I touched you?”

“That was more than a touch, lover. You fucked my arse. And no, I would have to say I didn’t mind.”

The water had cooled, Marianna pulled the plug, and we somewhat unsteadily climbed from the bath.

If I hadn’t known what love looked like, I did now. It showed in her expression as she towelled my body dry.

I had forgotten about Daphne until Marianna rang the bell. The girl returned, bearing a razor and scissors, and she had evidently regained her composure. Without a word, she waved me to a chair, and when I was settled, she pushed my legs apart and knelt between them.

It crossed my mind that she intended to exact some sort of bloody revenge with those sharp implements, but she simply went to work, quietly and expertly. I couldn’t help but marvel at the way she transformed my wild bush into something neat and attractive. She glanced up with an apologetic expression when she got to the final stages, pushing my legs further apart and trimming lower. She covered my pussy with her fingers to protect them from the scissors.

Once, I saw her hesitate before she pressed the lips to one side. I suspected she was taking longer than was necessary. I tried to suppress the unwanted tingle that was growing inside me. Then she leaned close to blow some hairs away. Her full lips lightly brushed the fold above my clit. I gave a small involuntary jump. Marianna laughed and clapped her hands. “I do believe that Daphne is setting you off again,” she said. “How wonderful!”

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scowl, but then I saw the girl’s tears again. She had frozen where she knelt, just gazing at my pussy.

I pointed at her cheeks for Marianna to see. Quickly, she knelt and put an arm around the black girl’s shoulder. “Daphne, my child, whatever is wrong?” The girl shook her head in answer.

“You didn’t see her, Marianna. She came in here earlier when we were … busy. And she cried while she watched us. I thought it was because she’s in love with you, but it wasn’t that. She wants my pussy now. She’s desperate for a woman’s body, any woman’s body.”

“I never dreamed!” Marianna said. “Sometimes she lingers when she trims me there, but she’s never said, or done anything … I swear.” She turned back to Daphne. “Is this true, little one?”

I saw the merest nod of the girl’s head.

Marianna looked at me. “What do we do? I’m not sure. I mean – how young she is!”

“She’s older than you and I were,” I said. I glanced down at Daphne’s fingers, which were still quite close to my pussy. Then I gave Marianna an enquiring look. For a moment she frowned, as if lost in thought, but then she leaned down and pressed Daphne’s hand into my cunt. All the time though, she kept her eyes on mine, clearly giving me the chance to object.

The little tingle the girl had caused suddenly intensified, even though her hand had not moved. Marianna, noting my expression, pressed the girl’s fingers harder, and this time, she began to move them up and down.

Without quite meaning to, I edged my arse forwards and slouched back in the chair. The movement opened my pussy slightly, and the girl’s finger slid between my lips. Marianna let go of her hand and pushed my hood up. “There Daphne, see that little nub? Touch that – gently, gently.”

The girl was in a daze, but one slender black finger went to my clit. She jerked it back when I twitched, but, taking her hand again, Marianna guided it back to the spot. She massaged me with two of the girl’s fingers, then, reaching for her other hand, pushed two more fingers into my pussy. “Reach inside, Daphne. Feel her, then fuck her.”

Daphne appeared shocked by her mistress’s language, yet I heard her whisper, “Fuck her. Yes, I want to fuck her.”

Marianna unfastened Daphne’s skirt and pulled it to the floor, along with her undergarments. The girl gave no sign she was aware of what was happening until her mistress knelt behind her and reached beneath her arse. Then her eyes opened wide in surprise and delight.

I reached out for the girl’s bodice, but managed to unfasten the buttons only enough to slip a hand inside. She inched closer to me, so I could properly feel the hard nipple between my finger and thumb. I gave it a pull, then a pinch, and she hissed through her teeth. She rewarded me by fucking me faster.

She looked up at me. “I fuck you, ma’am. Do you like it? It is the first time I fuck someone.”

She clearly liked using that word. “Yes, my sweet. You’re fucking me very well.”

“And Marianna is fucking me. I only ever dreamed .. ooh, my God.”

The whole scene was so utterly fantastical – a young black girl fucking my cunt for all she was worth as Marianna did the same to her.

Daphne abruptly slowed, her eyes rolled up, and she began to tremble. Marianna’s more experienced touch had brought her to the edge of her climax. I saw Marianna’s other hand caressing her arse, sliding between her cheeks. The girl gave one huge jerk, and I knew where Marianna had gone. My love was becoming enamoured of arseholes.

Daphne let out a wail, and her body began to spasm. She tensed once before she fell to the floor, where she lay gasping.

We both watched her slowly recover. She raised herself on one elbow, somewhat in a daze. “Miss, I’m so sorry, I forgot you,” she said.

I was about to say it didn’t matter, but Marianna interjected. “Come Daphne, let me show you something.”

She waved Daphne closer. “Give her a kiss, child.” Daphne looked shocked, as though the thought of kissing a white woman would place us on equal terms. But I was a pirate, as well as an idolator of women. Taboos were no barrier to me. I grabbed hold of her and pulled her to my face. She clutched at my shoulders as I forced her lips open and drove my tongue into her mouth.

Taking her hand, I moved it to my breast, massaging myself with it. When I sensed she understood my intent, I let go, and she continued on her own.

Then Marianna pulled her away from the kiss. Daphne complained, but ceased when her mistress guided her face to my breast. “Suck it,” she said. “Tease the nipple, press it between your teeth and bite – only not too hard.”

The girl caught on fast. Really, it was quite wonderful to see. Marianna, however, did not care to waste time. After barely a minute, she again pulled the girl’s head away.

”Now kiss down her tummy… yes, like that. Lower. Run your tongue through her hair. Go on, find that little nub I showed you. That’s her clit. Lick it. Lick it hard.”

The girl didn’t hesitate. At once, she began to lap at me furiously. But Marianna still had a further surprise in store. She took my legs and hoisted them over Daphne’s shoulders. “Now, push your tongue into her cunt. Eat it up.”

Daphne was driving me quite mad. The sensations were dragging me quickly to my peak, though Marianna was not yet through with her lesson.

“Now lick further down between her legs,” she commanded. This time Daphne did hesitate, but Marianna roughly shoved her head down. “Lick her arse,” she commanded. “It’s nice and clean from our bath. That’s better. Now tickle around with your tongue, see how it sort of winks at you – isn’t it pretty? Now a finger, press her with a finger… no, the tip. Press, push… there, see it sliding in. Now you can go back to sucking her clit while you fuck her arse.”

Marianna stood and admired her handiwork, lazily stroking her pussy as she watched. “So beautiful, I’m watching my lover get fucked. God knows why I’m not jealous. Are you ready to come, lover? I think perhaps you are. It’s time, Daphne. Now fuck her hard, I shall give her a kiss.”

Her lips had hardly touched mine when it hit me. I don’t remember ever shaking so hard before. I could barely hear Marianna’s voice through the rattling waves of pleasure. “Come for your Marianna and Daphne… come, love.”

When my senses had finally recovered, I saw Daphne still there between my legs, her glistening, come-covered black face looking up at me with awe.

“May I put my legs down now, please? They’re starting to ache.”

It was at that moment I heard a bell ringing.

“Oh dear, dinner will be served in a quarter of an hour,” Marianna said. “Quickly girls, we must wash and dress.”

I took Daphne’s hand as she was about to leave. “Are you alright now?” I asked. “Are you happy?”

Her beaming smile was all the answer I needed, but she said. “You cannot know. I have lived in hell at times. When I would trim Marianna’s … pussy .. I had to fight myself not to touch her. She only ever talked about you. There was so much love for you. I could not dare to intrude. But today — fuck, fuck, fuck!” Then she was gone.

“I do believe you made her happy,” Marianna said.

“And you didn’t mind?” I asked.

“Just as long as it doesn’t become a habit.”

A thought struck me. “Perhaps we should tell Daphne you will be leaving, before it’s too late. Let’s make sure she understands it’s about desire, not her falling in love.”

***

Daphne’s poise at the dinner table was remarkable. She never once batted an eyelid. It was as if nothing had occurred, though there was the hint of a smile when I whispered. “Will we see you in the bedroom, perhaps about eight-thirty?”

“Whatever the captain wishes.”

I stroked her leg beneath the table. She almost spilt the wine as my fingers slid up to her pussy.

“Would the captain behave?” she said quietly. “I am still working.” But although she had stopped pouring the wine, she remained where she stood as my fingers continued to probe between her lips.

Marianna raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering what had come over the girl. She glanced lower and must have observed Daphne’s jiggling hips. “Bren! What are you doing to the poor girl when she’s trying to work?” The grin on her face belied the tone of her voice.

Daphne lowered the decanter to the table and gripped the edge with both hands. She looked over at Marianna and said, “She fuck my pussy, Miss Marianna. Your captain is a very wicked woman. But I do like her.”

After only a few more thrusts, she reached down and stayed my hand, “I think it’s better you save it for later. If you do that much more, I will not be able to stop you and then your dinner will get cold.”

Reluctantly, I withdrew my hand and Daphne passed me the napkin with which to wipe my shiny fingers. At the door she paused. “Enjoy your dinner,” she said and as she turned away, she raised the back of her skirt and stuck her arse out. I heard her happy laugh as the door closed.

“Do you think we might eat our dinner now if you’ve quite finished playing games?” Marianna said.

The dinner was for me something quite special, perhaps the best meal I had ever eaten, and the wine was superb. But above all, my contentment was due to having my Marianna back. There couldn’t, at this moment, be a happier pirate in the world.

Another great change for me was my feminine attire. In the rush to prepare for dinner, I had thrown on, without a thought, a dress Marianna laid out for me. The sight in the mirror was startling. It was the first time I had ever worn a woman’s clothing, never mind something so feminine. Marianna peered over my shoulder. “So beautiful,” she said. “Do we not make a fine-looking pair? That dress was made too large for me. I thought it might fit you. A bit loose in the bust and the hips, perhaps, but you look perfectly stunning.”

“Still, it feels … well, silly.”

It was just as well that the hem swept the floor. None of Marianna’s shoes would fit me. I still wore my boots … complete with the dagger that was concealed there.

We talked of many things – of the places I had visited aboard the Siren, of ships we had taken and the fortune in gold I had amassed, and of course, of my search for her. I told her how puzzling it was that I had not heard she was in the Virgin Islands, even though I had anchored here on one previous occasion.

“My father died before my mother, but she had anticipated what was to come. She made arrangements with the help of a friend. When she passed away I was not faced with any difficulties in being awarded my inheritance. I moved to this island, having changed my name to Freitas – a Portuguese name. It was a suitable cover for my looks and my accent. Virtually no one in the Indies speaks Portuguese. Freitas means broken, which is how I felt at the time. It never occurred to me that you would have no way of knowing.”

A thought had been nagging at my mind. The question had to be raised. “Marianna, I have to ask. How can you possibly want to leave your beautiful home? Swap your comfortable life for that of a pirate? A hard and dangerous life. Not once have you asked if I would be willing to settle here instead.”

For the briefest moment, her eyes flashed fire, but then she smiled. “Thank you, my love. You are right to ask. But the answer is quite simple. I believe it would be too great a risk for you to settle here. Your life would always be in danger. Besides, it would be quite scandalous and would likely cause an uproar.” She reached for my hands. “My only dream has been for you to come and whisk me away. I don’t care for luxuries. They are but trappings to be enjoyed, not a necessity. What is necessary is that I spend my life with you! I could sail to the ends of the earth, fight the Spanish or the French… or anyone else, just so long as we do it side by side.”

I had feared that she might not have fully considered the implications of what we intended. But now, with some relief, I knew she had.

On to Chapter Six!