Lady Vixen by Shirlee Busbee Read Free Book Online Page B

power on the
ocean. Impudently they outsailed and outmaneuvered the heavier, more cumbersome
warships of the British. The brash Americans were not beyond attacking and,
worse, occasionally capturing a British naval ship. The war declared in 1812 by
President Madison gave the privateers the added glory of performing a patriotic
duty with every ship they took. Their depredations upon the English fighting
fleet were not great, but it wasn't the British Navy that the Americans
menaced. It was loaded merchantmen on their way to Europe from the West Indies
that drew the privateers and outright pirates, like sharks after a bloodied corpse.
Captain Saber, like many others sailing with letters of marque from more than
one country, had grown rich off those fat carriers of the wealth of the
islands.
    Of
late though, Nicole decided thoughtfully, the Captain seemed almost to play at
privateering. He acted much in the manner of a well-fed tiger, replete but
unable to resist the lure of the plump pigeons that paraded beneath his nose in
the guise of the trading ships of the British. La Belle Garce, his sleek
heavily armed schooner, had taken merely two prizes this past six months, and
Nicole suspected that Saber had captured the two—an English barkentine late of
Jamaica, and a Spanish merchantman, sailing for Cadiz—to quiet the rumblings of
the crew and simply because he was bored!
    Frowning,
she stared blankly at the inviting waters of the small cove where she lay
wondering about a man who could name his ship La Belle Garce, The
Beautiful Bitch. Saber had been acting strange for months now, and she wondered
uneasily if he did indeed suspect her disguise. She moved restlessly on the
warm sand, not liking the path her thoughts were following.
    Why
couldn't things stay as they were, she wondered pensively. She had thrived
during the past five years, for they had been filled with excitement and
danger. Sometimes she even forgot that she was a female and not the tall, slim
cabin boy from La Belle Garce. Her charade had been relatively simple
during the first year or so, for nature, as if abetting her masquerade, had
endowed her with a height that was somewhat above average in a girl and a deep
husky voice that would be unusual in a woman but would pass unnoticed in a
youth.
    The
Captain, who didn't understand the queer whim that had possessed him, had carelessly
dumped her on the deck of his ship and promptly forgot her. Nicole spent
several weeks living in unspeakable misery and fear in the cramped hold of the
ship before he noticed her again. In the meantime she slaved such long hard
hours that at night she tumbled into her hammock, slung between the decks along
with the other crew members', almost completely exhausted. Every filthy job
came her way, from the emptying of the slop jars in the officers' quarters to
the hard sweaty work of scraping the hull of the ship. Being the lowliest
member of the crew, as well as the youngest and newest, she was at the beck and
call of every member of the ship, and it seemed to her in those first
frightening weeks that she spent more time running errands between decks than
anything else. Astonishingly she managed to endure it all. The thought of
having escaped from the Markhams lifted her flagging spirits and the cool,
clean salt-sweet breezes that blew over the ocean soothed her inner qualms
about the rash step she had taken. And there were other compensations too, for
she loved being ordered into the riggings, and like an agile monkey, she would
swiftly clamber up into the sails, unafraid of the danger and nearly
intoxicated by the dizzying height. And there was the power of the sea to drug
one, the many moods, from placid gentleness to the exhilaration of the thunder
and crash of a storm. And excitement-oh, yes, excitement . . .
    Never,
she thought dreamily, would she ever forget her first sea battle . . . That day
when a Spanish merchantman had been sighted and La Belle Garce had
swooped down on its