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  Warning:

  The following material contains strong sexual content meant for mature readers. A MATTER OF HONOR has been rated NC17, erotic, by three individual reviewers. We strongly suggest storing this electronic file in a place where young readers not meant to view this ebook are unlikely to happen upon it. That said, enjoy...

  Part 1: Claiming The Maiden

  Chapter 1

  1815, Atlantic Ocean

  “I do not think this is wise, m'lady.”

  Rebecca sighed. “As you have said fifty times in as many days, Nora.”

  “Your father would not have wanted you to do this.”

  Her mouth tightened. “Well, he should not have gotten himself killed over a gambling debt, should he?”

  “Yes, but—”

  She leaned against the rough wooden rail of the deck. “There was no one else to guarantee the delivery to the Colonies.”

  “Your father's men.”

  She snorted at her companion's naiveté. “Let us please drop this discussion. What is done cannot be undone, and it is making my head ache.”

  “Would you like an early night, m'lady?”

  Rebecca propped her chin on her hand, staring at the sky as the sun began to set. Hues of orange, pink, and red swept across the purple night sky in glorious strokes. It was impossible to tell where the sky ended and the dark ocean began.

  If not for the constant lull of the Margaret, named after her mother, on the waves, she might be able to forget they were at sea. “Yes, I do believe I would, and perhaps a bath too. It has been a few days since I imposed on the men.”

  Nora nodded, heading off to commandeer a few of the more pliant sailors for lugging pails of water from the galley to the main cabin.

  Rebecca turned to go to her quarters, almost running into Stokes, the first mate. “Pardon.”

  He gave a half nod of his head. “M'lady, I do not like the looks of this.”

  “What, Stokes?”

  “The night sky is ominous.” He crossed himself. “It is a bad night to be sailing.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Especially with women on board.”

  Her lips tightened, but she ignored his muttered protest. “Do you have anything to base this on, or is it merely a feeling?”

  He glared at her, his cast eye narrowing, but focused on the main sail. “Do not mock me, m'lady. I been sailing the seas since I was but a lad of nine. I know—”

  She waved her hand. “Yes, yes, you have told me many times, Stokes.” She bit back a sigh, tired of the constant struggle with him for command of the Margaret. “I bow to your expertise, but I am the captain.”

  He spat on the wooden planking of the deck. “Ye ain't no captain, m'lady.” He glowered at her. “Dressing like a man will not make ye one.”

  “Goodnight, Stokes.” She swept past him, knowing her grand exit was ruined by the lack of full skirts she was accustomed to wearing. Admittedly, the trousers were more practical, but the wool scratched unbearably. It was a relief to enter her cabin and remove the cap covering her long fall of ebony hair.

  If not for the bath coming, she would immediately shed the clothing she had purloined from her father's closets and slide into the frothy sleeping gown folded neatly in her trunk. However, appearances with the men must be maintained. They knew she was a woman, but it was to her advantage to not remind them of that blatantly.

  A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She lifted the latch to admit Nora, followed by four burly men. One carried the small tub Rebecca had brought on board with her, and the other three carried six pails of water between them. Without a word or expression on their faces, they emptied the water into the metal tub, and then exited the cabin.

  Nora, paranoid as usual, took the pistol from the trunk and planted herself on a weathered chair, after positioning it before the door. “You may disrobe, m'lady.”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes, but didn't comment. She removed the trousers, white shirt, and heavy jacket, tossing them across the trunk at the foot of the narrow bed. She slid into the water, wishing she still had some of the rose oil that had been depleted with her last bath. She settled for the thick cube of homemade soap the men used, grimacing as the rough texture turned her skin pink. Once she had washed her hair, she stepped from the tub and wrapped herself in a soft, absorbent sheet.

  “Shall I send for the men, m'lady?”

  She shook her head, stifling a yawn. “I am too tired to put those clothes back on so they can remove the tub. Tomorrow morning will be soon enough.” She lifted the lid of the trunk, removing the gown and her gold brush. She blinked back unexpected tears and a wave of homesickness. How she longed to be in their country home, sipping tea in the garden, or riding horses with her younger sister; anywhere but this awful ship. Damn Father for his irresponsibility.

  “M'lady?”

  She shook her head, looking up at Nora. “Yes?”

  “Shall I brush your hair for you?”

  She nodded, taking time to drop the sheet and slip into the pale blue, silk nightgown before sitting on the bed and leaning forward. There was comfort in the familiar motion of having her childhood governess brush her hair. Thank goodness Nora had insisted on accompanying her to ensure the safety of her virginity. She couldn't have gotten through this hellish voyage without her. Not that it was over yet. Several more days loomed ahead of them before they saw the port of Boston.

  Once Nora moved away, Rebecca pulled back the covers and slid into the narrow bunk. As her eyes closed, she saw Nora sliding out the trundle bed. She tried to offer help, but another yawn stole the words. Her lashes drifted over dark-green eyes as the long day caught up with her and she slept.

  Chapter 2

  She awoke to a pounding sound outside the door. “Nora?” Rebecca sat up, pushing long strands of hair from her eyes.

  “I am here, m'lady.” There was an edge of panic to her voice. “I have been trying to wake you for ten minutes.”

  “I am sorry.” She blinked, noticing through the small, round window the beginnings of dawn streaking across the sky. “What is happening? Have I overslept?”

  Nora huddled on the bunk with her. “I do not know, m'lady. I awoke to a heavy booming sound and the listing of the ship.”

  “Pirates?” she asked aloud, immediately regretting it as she saw Nora wince. “Do not be alarmed. I doubt it is such, but if it were, Stokes and the men are brave and fierce.”

  Nora nodded eagerly and jumped as the pounding resumed, this time shuddering the frame of the door. “Oh, m'lady, it must be pirates, for none of your father's men would dare intrude.”

  Rebecca pushed back the covers and stumbled from the bed, swaying for a moment until her feet caught the rhythm of the ocean. As Nora had said, the ship listed more to the right than the left. Now was not the time to worry about the precious cargo sinking. Her only thoughts were of removing the pistol from the trunk and making sure it was ready to shoot.

  As the door splintered, she stood in front of it, aiming the gun straight ahead. She heard Nora whimpering on the bed, but had no time to comfort her. The door burst open with one more solid hit, and four men swarmed into the room after dropping the beam they had been using to batter the door.

  “Look at this. Finer treasure than in the hold.” The man who spoke appeared to be a few years older than she was, with half his teeth missing, and multiple scars lacerating his naked arms and chest.

  “The captain will be pleased,” another said. He was as equally scarred, but wore a leather vest, unfastened. Three fingers on his right hand were missing.

  The other two didn't speak, but their intensely hungry looks were enough to send shivers down her spine. They paid no attention to the pistol in her hand, seeming not to realize she had
it. Her eyes darted about as they approached, fastening on her dressing gown. She snatched it from the rough table and slid it on quickly. As she did so, Rebecca dropped the pistol into the voluminous pocket.

  The first one, covered in tattoos, reached Rebecca, with another close behind. Two men had gone to retrieve Nora from the bed, where she huddled in a sobbing ball. “Do not touch me,” Rebecca said firmly, with a bravado she didn’t feel.

  “Or what, missy?” His voice was rough, as were his calloused hands when they touched her arm. “We control this ship now, and everything on it.” He tried to lift her.

  Rebecca pushed against him. “I can walk.”

  The man shrugged, and his companion chuckled. He waved his hand. “After you, m'lady.”

  She glared at him, then at the two men manhandling Nora. “She can walk too.”

  He shrugged again. “As you wish.” He turned to them. “Let her walk. If she stumbles, cut off her hand.” He leered. “She will not need that for our pleasure.”

  Nora's sobs increased, but she pushed herself off the bed and ran to Rebecca, hugging her. “I am so sorry, m'lady.”

  “It is not your fault, Nora.” Rebecca urged her along, and they walked into the passageway. Following the men's commands, they ended up in the galley. To her dismay, she saw that most of the crew was already quarantined there. Among them was Stokes, who glared at her. She had a sinking feeling the missing members of the crew had departed this world already.

  “I told ye women would bring bad luck,” Stokes called out, earning a cuffing from the man nearest him. He subsided into silence, but wore an expression of mingled anger and fear.

  “Captain.” The man with the rough voice prodded Rebecca and Nora toward a man standing apart from the others. He wore a torn white shirt smeared with red stains, brown trousers, and black boots. His blond hair was either short or worn in a ponytail.

  He was too handsome to be the leader of these cutthroats, Rebecca found herself thinking, as she was pushed onto her knees in front of the captain.

  “We found these two in the main cabin.”

  “A highly worthy prize.” With a gloved hand, he touched Rebecca's oval face, smoothing his leather-covered fingers over her high cheekbones, straight nose, and full lips. “You men have earned one-and-a-half your share this day.”

  Rebecca shivered as his hand moved to her hair, tangling in the ebony strands. She wanted to protest the touch, but prudence held her tongue. She had only to wait for an opportunity.

  He turned to examine Nora. “Not bad. You will make a fine prize for the men.” His icy blue eyes turned back to Rebecca. “You shall be my take of the booty.”

  As he reached for her, Rebecca sagged forward, pretending to faint. She slipped her hand into the pocket of the gown and withdrew the pistol. She kept it pressed against her thigh as he knelt to lift her. When he was level with her, she brought it up, pressing the barrel against his crotch. “I shan't be anything for you. Neither will any woman in future if you push me.”

  His eyes widened, but he laughed. It was a cold, disturbing sound. “She is feisty.” His laugh cut off when she pressed the sharp barrel deeper into his genitals.

  His expression hardened. “You cannot escape, m'lady. Even if you shoot me, thirty of my loyal men now control this vessel. You will become property of them all, for the rest of your life.” He lifted a brow. “Knowing this crowd, that should not be more than a day.” He held out his hand. “Give me the pistol.”

  “I'll give you the ball,” she said with a vicious jab, satisfied when he winced. Her brain raced, searching for a way out.

  Ordering them to leave wouldn't work, despite having the captain's privates in her line of fire. Nor would demanding a longboat for the crew, Nora, and herself. She grimaced at the thought forming in her mind, but reluctantly accepted it as her only alternative. Even it was no true guarantee. “I propose a bargain.”

  He smirked. “What sort of bargain?”

  “The crew and I will remain here in the galley while your men load the cargo. There will be no resistance from us. We will let you leave without a peep of protest.” She held her breath, already knowing he would discard her first offer.

  He laughed. “We can buy compliance with the thrust of a sword, m'lady. Offer me something worthwhile, and perhaps we can come to an agreement.”

  “I have not finished.” She tilted her chin. “Nora and I are not to be molested by you or your men.”

  “Your conditions keep growing, while my rewards diminish. No deal, m'lady.” His announcement was met with a loud round of cheering from his men.

  Rebecca's heart sank as she reluctantly offered her last bargaining chip. “On board this ship is my great-grandmother's diamond necklace. It is worth three times the value of the contents in the hold.” She swallowed back the tears in her throat, hoping her mother would understand why she had to use the necklace as a bargaining tool. “I was to deliver it to my sister, who lives in Boston. When you have unloaded the cargo and your men are back on your ship, I will hand it over to you.”

  “I can find it myself.”

  She shook her head. “No, you shan't. I hid it securely so no one would know I had it onboard. You could tear the ship apart and not find it.” Rebecca kept her eyes fastened on him, trying to project confidence.

  The pain in her knees from kneeling on the rough planks was a distraction, as was the faint hint of skepticism remaining in his eyes. “Do we have a bargain?” She hoped so, for her hand was cramping from holding the pistol steady against his genitals.

  He seemed to take great pleasure in shaking his head. “It is not enough.”

  Her shoulders sagged, although her grip on the pistol didn't waver. “It is all I have to offer.”

  The captain tilted her head up. “There is one more thing, m'lady.”

  “What?”

  “Your virtue.”

  She gasped. “How dare you?”

  His smile was cold. “Either way, you will not be a maiden by this evening, m'lady. It is your choice whether your servant suffers the same fate, and if you get passed among my men after I finish with you.”

  Her hand wavered slightly, and Rebecca used her other hand to steady her arm. “You forget I hold the pistol, sir.”

  He chuckled as he claimed a handful of hair and pulled her head back. “Submit, m'lady, and we shall have a bargain. Defy me, and you will not enjoy the consequences.”

  She stared into his cold blue eyes, seeing an almost total lack of interest reflected back. He looked bored, as if either outcome would suit him equally. “If I agree to this madness, you swear your men will vacate this ship and leave my crew and companion unharmed?”

  He released her hair. “After transferring the cargo, my crew will depart. Your men will be tied in the galley, and the lady will remain as virtuous as she is now.” He sent a mocking glance in Nora's direction. “Although, surely a woman of such mature years cannot be that innocent?”

  A blush heated Nora's cheeks, and she dropped her head.

  “When will you leave?” Rebecca glared up at him.

  “When the deal is concluded, and I have the necklace.”

  “How can I trust you?”

  He bowed mockingly at the waist, without disturbing the position of the pistol. “You have my word, m'lady.”

  She snorted.

  He lost his indulgent expression. “Do not presume to question my honor. My word guarantees the safety of everyone on this ship, including yours. You need nothing else for insurance.”

  Slowly, she drew the pistol away from his crotch. He took it from her hand, and she squeezed her eyes shut, anticipating a shot that never came. Instead, he lifted her to her feet and pulled her behind him. She cast one last look at Nora, but her companion's sorrowful expression did nothing to allay her fears.

  Chapter 3

  “Where are your quarters?”

  “To the left,” she whispered. Fear quaked in her belly as horrible images of what he would
do to her ran through her mind. Would God forgive her for the deal she had made, trading her purity for safe passage? “That door.” She pointed to the shattered door, embarrassed by the thought of it being open while he did what he wished with her.

  He pushed her inside and followed. She watched as he stripped the top coverlet from the bed and draped it across the doorway as a makeshift curtain. When he turned back to her, nausea churned in her stomach as she waited to see what he would ask for.

  “Do you have a name, m'lady?”

  “R-rebecca,” she said, licking dry lips.

  He nodded. “I am Christoph.”

  She shrugged.

  “Come closer, Rebecca.”

  The sound of her Christian name on his lips sent shivers of dread racing through her. Somehow, her feet managed to obey his command, although her heart and head rebelled. When she stood within inches of him, her nose wrinkled at his stench—a combination of sweat, blood, and gunpowder.

  “Where is the necklace?”

  “After—”

  “Now.” His expression brooked no argument. “Pardon my mistrust, Rebecca, but I want to ensure our bargain is not based on subterfuge.”

  She swallowed down a retort, knowing she doubted his honor. Why should he feel any differently? She walked to her trunk and removed a dagger from inside. From the corner of her eye, she saw him tense, but offered no reassurances or explanations. Instead, she turned to the lamp on the table, lighting the wick in the oil so she could see.

  As she walked over to the bed, he shadowed her within a step. Rebecca knelt, set the lantern on the floor, and got down on all fours. She wriggled her head and arms under the low bunk and felt for the loose floorboard. She found it within seconds.

  Working in near darkness, she used the dagger to pry at the knothole. With a creaking protest and the snap of wood, a chunk of the planking flew up, bouncing against the bottom of the bunk before landing a few inches from her. She felt inside the small concavity for the velvet-wrapped necklace.

  As she wriggled out from under the bed, she felt his hand drop to her hip. “What are you doing?” Being under the bed muffled her voice.