Bound by the Buccaneer (14 page)

Frederica’s eyes widened. “Gaston, what are you saying?”

He gave her his most charming smile and said, “I’m asking you to become my wife.”

“Your wife?” To his surprise she looked outraged.

He leaned back as if she had struck him. “Yes, Frederica. My wife,” he said, his tone mildly defensive.

“But Gaston you know I despise a life of domesticity!” she grumbled, sticking her bottom lip out.

He rolled his eyes. “My dear, nothing would change. We would still sail the open seas, pillage, plunder, all the usual pirate activities… our life will still be an adventure.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “You promise?”

“Absolutely.”

“You don’t intend to put me in a little cottage and make me pregnant while you go off raiding and marauding?”

“No!”

“You don’t plan to drop me in some tiny village and make me do your washing?”

“No!”

“Gaston, I don’t understand. Why get married then? Things are lovely between us as they are.”

“My darling, I don’t want to change who you are, or who we are. I love you, and I love us.”

She looked confused. “So why do you want to do this?”

“Because, my love, I want you to be mine officially. I want you to belong to me in every way possible. I want you to be mine and mine alone.”

“Ah, that’s rather sweet,” her face softened. “‘Til death do us part. That does sound like us.”

He pulled a ring from his pocket and showed it to her. “So will you please say yes?”

She held the gold ring with the large, sparking aquamarine stone in her hand and considered it for a moment. Finally she gave him her answer. “Yes!” she answered in a firm voice.

Their lips touched and Gaston’s heart sang once again. The softness of her lips quenched him like a cask of water to a man lost at sea. He drank her in and promised himself he would make her happy.

A cheer erupted from the ships on either side of them. They hadn’t noticed that the crew of both ships had congregated and were listening to their conversation until they boisterously voiced their approval of the outcome.

“So it’s a wedding we’ll be having?” Miles called down from the side rail of the
Independence
.

“Aye!” Gaston shouted. “And I’ll be needing someone to stand up with me. Do you think you’re man enough for the post?”

Miles laughed and shook his head. “I wouldn’t forgive you if you asked anyone else.”

Chapter Nineteen

Once she had settled into Gaston’s embrace Frederica noticed Hatch was steering them toward the beach rather than escorting her back to the
Ocean’s Knave
.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“If your health is sound and you’re feeling up for it, I thought we would be married.”

“Today?” His proposal had caught her off guard, and she was having trouble keeping up with him.

“Yes, everything has been arranged. How is your head?” He touched her bandaged forehead gingerly and murmured, “My poor girl.”

The bleeding had stopped for the most part, and the splitting pain in her head had receded to a dull annoyance. The purpose of the bandage across her head was just to keep the wound clean.

“I believe I can manage,” Frederica smiled, and her stomach turned over as she said the words. Marrying Gaston—she hadn’t thought about that since they’d first fallen in love. Once she’d adopted the rapscallion ways of the buccaneers it had not occurred to her that she and Gaston would do something as typical and plebian as to marry.

But it felt right, and it flattered her that he wanted to make her his bride. She loved him completely, and she wanted only him. Clearly the dalliance with the other captains had shaken him, and she had no need to repeat the experience. While she had given her body to them, she’d done it at his behest, and even though the experience had been an exotic pleasure ride, Gaston was more than enough for her. His appetite for adventure, both in and outside the bedchamber matched hers perfectly.

“Whatever shall I wear?” she asked, frowning at her current blouse and skirt which still bore the bloodstains of her injury.

Gaston arched a brow the way he always did when he was keeping a secret from her. “I’ve already seen to that, my dear.”

“You have?”

He nodded. “I told you. Everything has been arranged.”

“By whom?”

“Myself. Well, I did have some assistance from the governor and his daughter.”

“The governor?” She felt her eyes widen. Even though she wouldn’t admit it aloud, Frederica had been disappointed that she had missed the opportunity to meet the governor.

“Yes. He has given us a new commission, but when I impressed upon him the importance of our union, he and his daughter, Henrietta, were more than eager to help.”

Frederica just stared at him.

As if it were an afterthought, Gaston said, “They’re here, if you’d like to thank them.”

“They are here? As in on this island…”

“Yes, my love. I don’t think the vicar would have agreed to come unless the governor accompanied him. For some reason the old bloke didn’t trust me. The governor tried to beg off, but Henrietta insisted he needs more excitement in his life. And what’s more exciting than a wedding between two pirates?” He laughed, clearly quite proud of himself.

“Indeed.” She sat back to absorb his words.

After a few moments she asked, “What if I had said no? Or what if I had been dead?” She couldn’t imagine him planning a wedding and then finding out she had died. Nothing could be worse.

Pulling her close, he stroked her hair. “My darling if you had perished I don’t know what I would have done. I tried my best not to entertain the idea. Instead I tried to remain optimistic in my thoughts.”

Toying with her locks, he continued, “If you had said no, I’d have spent the rest of my days attempting to change your mind.”

She burrowed into the crook of his arm. “You would?”

“Absolutely,” he said, kissing her on the nose.

In a few minutes, the boat came onshore and Gaston ushered her toward a tent that had been set up on the beach. “This is where you may ready yourself. I’ll have someone bring you some fresh water for bathing, and I will introduce you to Henrietta once I find her. She’ll bring the dress and help you prepare.”

“I can’t believe you’ve gone to such trouble for me.” She hugged him tightly and kissed his supple lips.

“My darling Freddie, I’d do anything in the world for you,” he said with a wink then left her alone in the tent.

There was a small cot set up inside and she lay down upon it. The trip to shore had not been extensive, but it had tired her out nonetheless. She wondered if she had the stamina for a wedding, but pushed the negative thoughts aside. If Gaston had gone to this much trouble, and the governor was to attend, she would rise to the occasion.

She must have drifted off to sleep because she was awakened by a woman’s high pitched voice. “You must be Frederica!”

Groggily, Frederica rose up onto an elbow. “Yes, I am Frederica. You must be Henrietta.” She squinted at the imposing woman before her, all curly red hair and flashing white teeth.

“Yes, that’s me. Oh, I am so thrilled to make your acquaintance, Miss Frederica! I’ve never met a lady pirate before,” Henrietta prattled on, the woman was a bundle of energy.

Frederica shrugged. “You can call me Freddie if you like.”

Henrietta’s hands flew to her cheeks. “Freddie! Oh my heavens. This is going to be a beautiful wedding.” She began to pace in a circle which made Frederica dizzy. “So much to do. First let’s get you a bath, clean all that blood off you.” She blanched at the bloody state of Frederica’s clothing. “I’ll have my girl wash your hair then you can lie in the sun to dry.”

Tenderly, Frederica got up from her bed and placed herself squarely in the enthusiastic hands of Henrietta Whitehurst.

* * *

After her bath Frederica felt like a new person. Henrietta’s servant had washed the caked-on blood from her hair and, at Gaston’s request, she had even brought ivory-colored ribbon to twine through her hair, a special touch that made Frederica realize how much Gaston had thought of her.

The dress Henrietta brought her had taken Frederica’s breath away. The silk bodice fitted snugly and displayed her ample bosom to its best advantage, and the sleeves hugged her arms until, below the elbow they flared out—a design that Henrietta assured her was all the fashion these days.

Frederica wouldn’t even hazard a guess at the number of yards of fabric it took to make the skirt. It was enormous with an endless number of silk rosebud medallions every six inches or so. The effect was stunning, like nothing she’d ever seen before.

Around dusk, a sailor popped his head in the tent and told Henrietta it was time to go. She handed Frederica a bouquet made from white plumeria and yellow orchids. Smiling to herself Frederica remembered the first time she had seen plumeria. It had been on the island where she and Gaston had been marooned, where he’d introduced her to the ways of love and submission. Where she’d fallen in love with him and begged him to take her with him.

Outside, Hatch and some of the men stood around a contraption made from palm fronds and husks. It looked to be a makeshift chair.

Frederica gave Hatch a funny look.

“A seat for you. We will carry you.”

“What? Why?” Frederica asked.

“Missy the wedding is that way,” he pointed into the jungle. “You are too weak to walk.”

She wanted to argue with him, but Hatch knew more about the situation than she did and he was right. She was still weak. Fortunately, her head had stopped throbbing for the moment.

“Have a seat,” Hatch said and she plopped down into the tropical litter. Hatch and three other men hoisted her into the air with the bamboo handles, and after a few adjustments they headed into the trees.

Riding high above everyone, with the cool ocean breeze blowing in her hair, Frederica felt like a princess. The scent of plumeria from her bouquet drifted deliciously underneath her nostrils and filled her head with romantic memories of time spent with her soon-to-be husband.

Lanterns lit the way as they followed a path into the jungle. Henrietta and several of the men followed behind. Frederica heard a familiar voice flirting with Henrietta and she giggled as her new friend flirted back.

The farther they traveled into the jungle, the more convinced Frederica became that the place was somehow familiar. Most island vegetation did look similar, but something else about this trek reminded her of something, though she wasn’t sure what.

Until they arrived at the destination. Even before she saw it, it dawned on her when she heard the rush of the water.

The waterfall—that was it!

Their
waterfall.

Gaston had brought her to the same island where they had been shipwrecked and the exact location where he had taken her for the first time. Tears sprang to her eyes as the enormity of the moment rested on her.

Gaston, more dashing than ever in a crisp white shirt, long, blue coat with shiny, gold buttons and polished boots, strode toward her. The sapphire plume of his dapper new hat dragged the sand as he removed it and bowed low to her.

Standing up, he reached for her hand and called her that lovely French moniker he’d used to address her the first time they’d met, “Mademoiselle.”

“Gaston!” She cried, falling into his arms. “This is it. The place… our waterfall.”

“I know, my love,” he said, and shushed her with a kiss.

When he pulled away, he took her hand and led her toward the pool at the base of the waterfall. By now the sun had gone down and the nighttime jungle sounds mixed with the gushing water that tumbled down the great waterfall. Over fifty guests surrounded them, many of them crew members from the
Ocean’s Knave
, but there were a few men from the other ships in their alliance. She saw Pugwash standing next to the cook and the doctor, Jones. All the faces were familiar, including Mrs. Campbell, the woman who ran the Boar’s Breath Inn on the other side of the island. Captain Chatham, standing next to Henrietta, met her eye then blushed and looked at the ground.

Most of the guests held a candle, though some carried lanterns. They lit up the jungle beautifully, showcasing the magnificence of nature which served as a backdrop for her and Gaston to profess their love for one another.

They stood before the vicar and he joined their hands together. There, under a canopy of palms, looking into Gaston’s eyes, Frederica promised to love, honor, and obey him for all the days of her life. When it was his turn, he squeezed her hands in his as he recited the vows to protect and cherish his wife until the end of time. In that moment she knew that if she trusted Gaston, he would take care of her. He knew her better than anyone ever had, and he loved her despite her faults. She felt the same way about him. Gaston could be arrogant and infuriating, but she adored every crazy, dreaded lock on his head, and the way that he loved her made her forget other men even existed.

Gaston slipped a ring on her finger with a sapphire the size of a walnut. Her jaw dropped at the size of the stone, but Gaston just winked and held her hand tightly. When the vicar gave Gaston permission to kiss his bride, he pulled her to him and crushed her lips with his in a display of passion that made it clear he meant to possess her in every way possible. His tongue sought hers which started a quiver of desire in her belly that sank lower and lower until she could feel the wetness between her thighs. Gaston rested his hand on the small of her back before moving it south onto her derriere. That got the crowd’s attention, and they were regaled with a thunderous applause from their guests.

When they came up for air, they were greeted by a throng of well-wishers all wanting to shake Gaston’s hand. One man suggested they should all get to kiss the bride, to which Gaston responded by pretending to draw his cutlass. He did, however, allow Miles to embrace her, an act that told Frederica that marriage was already beginning to boost her husband’s confidence.