The Pirate Captain by Kerry Lynne

sobering to hear two lives memorialized so coldly.
    “Some kind of fever,” Cate said dully. “It took Lucy first, Mrs. Littleton but hours after.”
    “Why didn’t you sicken?”
    “I suppose I was healthier,” she said evenly.
    “Can’t argue with that,” Blackthorne muttered, more to himself. “No explaining sickness, especially on a ship. I’ve seen entire crews decimated, whilst others remained in the pink.”
    None of this came as good news. He stalked the room, uttering a black-sounding tirade in something other than Spanish or French, and took a long pull off the bottle still clutched in his fist.
    “This wasn’t my damned plan to begin with. I tried to tell those oysterheads this wouldn’t answer. And now…” He broke off, thinking better of what he was about to say.
    He came at her, shaking his fist, the bottle’s contents sloshing. “I’ll have you know, I do not approve of women aboard. Noxious creatures! Nothing but problems. It puts the men’s minds on nothing but their cocks, as you already may have noticed.” He canted his head toward the main deck, where Scarface and his men would still be.
    He drew up before the window, swallowing back several more remarks that bubbled to the surface. Her heart leapt at seeing his hand come to rest on the pistol at his belt. She braced, chanting inwardly that death might be the blessing she had hoped for.
    “What is your name then, luv?” he asked over his shoulder.
    It was a bit disconcerting that he needed to know her name just before shooting her. She lifted her chin, determined to meet her end with grace. “Cate.”
    “Catherine?”
    “No, Cate will do nicely.”
    He pivoted around on his heel. “Very well, Cate …”
    A firm rap at the door caused her to start. A man’s silhouette, a dark blot against the glare of daylight, filled the doorway.
    “Cap’n?”
    She shrank back at recognizing the voice. It filled the room the same way it had echoed across the Constancy ’s deck .
    “Yes, Master Pryce?” Blackthorne beckoned him in with a wave.
    Pryce advanced several steps, before he pulled up short at the sight of her. She snugged the coat tighter around her under his cold stare.
    “Wishin’ to report, Cap’n,” Pryce said, averting his attention. “The prize has give over.”
    “Readily?”
    “None so much as might o’ been. Their weapons were already laid, until the cap’n’s wife there called the charge.” Pryce cut her a look, now a heated glare. “Took Chin directly in the leg, she did, and then managed to draw blood on several more afore…”
    Blackthorne whirled on Cate. “I could have you hocked and heaved or flogged for drawing the blood of another.”
    At some point, she had risen to her feet. She shrank back, coming up hard against the gun carriage as Blackthorne stalked toward her. He grabbed her by the arm and towed her around the table. Releasing her, he went out on deck, where a number of pirates churned through trunks taken from the Constancy. Shoving them aside, he pawed through the contents, seized something, and stomped back.
    “I don’t give a damn about you, but that’s me number one coat and I’ll not have it bloodied up. Here,” he said and flung a garment at her. “Put it on or parade about half-naked, I don’t give a rat’s ass.”
    The garment turned out to be a shift. She turned her back and wormed out of the coat while donning the other. The hem was barely over her hips, before the coat was yanked away. Blackthorne reached, meaning to snatch her by the hair. Thinking better, he took her by the wrist instead, the force grinding the bones together, and half-drug her to the steps below. In morbid dread of stumbling, she concentrated on her footing as he pushed from behind.
    At the bottom, a shove propelled her much faster than her feet could manage. She stumbled several times. The passage wasn’t unlike that of the Constancy ’s: narrow and lined with a couple of cabins to one side, and the