"That's right! All u'ya rrr gonna haf t'walk." And he walked on in front of the line of newly made prisoners. Right foot stepping with a "creek" and left leg landing with a "thunk" from his wooden leg. A nice souvenir from the Barbary Coast.

The plank was as scary as it sounded, being prodded at saber point to plunge into the warm depths of the Caribbean to swim for yourself. the alternative was worse, plain old being run through with the same saber.

She sobbed, but remained dignified in the face of her death. She stood solemn and beautiful ready to meet her fate. Once a wealthy passenger, now just a lump of flesh to be fed to the fish.

She hated this brute spouting out awful things especially to the youngest girls, saying, "You'll make a nice cabin slave for the Turks."

She shuttered thinking this was the little girl's last thoughts. Pictures of brutal beasts treating her as a slave and captive.

But still she remained dignified. No begging, pleading or sobbing. If her fate was as a harem girl so be it, but better to die dignified than die with cowardice on her soul.

She heard his footsteps from behind her. He lowered the plank and anchored it with rope and iron. He looked up and she caught a glance of his blue eyes. Just long enough to enjoy the last look at an amazingly beautiful ... she hated to say it ... pirate.

That would be her last vision. A handsome pirate. And she hated herself for liking him. His black boots and pants were in contrast to his open white blouse.

In another life in London she would have risked going to the shipyards to see such a specimen. But he was there to kill her. All her money and prominence in London did her no good now.

He was a wonderful specimen at that. Blonde, tan, from the Caribbean sun, and strong. But evil as the blackest night. She hated that. "Why a pirate? Was a cobbler, or haberdasher too boring? Was he sold into slavery for a debt not paid by his father?"

As they lined up to walk the plank, he stood a few paces behind her. Far enough to give you the feeling that someone was behind you but not close enough to tell if they were or not.

The whistle came from behind her as she felt a large presence knock her to the ground covering her face and body.

At the moment she realized she was on the deck; the forward mast splintered into millions of pieces. A canon ball had struck it from the HMS Allegiance.

The body on top of her quickly picked her up and tossed her overboard still clutching her waist as they both plunge into the water.

She felt her corset pop and her long dress fall off leaving her in nothing more than a petticoat. They surfaced to a world of commotion and noise. Musket fire, canons and smoke. The water strewn with debris.

Then more canon shots and musket fire erupted and her ship was almost in pieces. Of the 10 passengers and crew, including her, were in the water and making their way to a loosened life boat. She, however, was being drug from the neck to an another skiff not too far but definitely dislodged from the commotion.

She tried to resist, push pull, swim away, but the grip was too tight. The next thing she knew she was in the skiff and headed toward the nearest island, undetected by any of her ships attackers or the Allegiance.

As she lay there in the skiff, she saw her captor fling himself over the side to reveal himself.

She tried to fight with everything she could before she even got a good look at his face. She scratched and kicked and gritted her teeth.

To no avail ...

"Of course it doesn't end like this, does it. Escaping a privateered ship and now raped and beaten to death on this skiff?"


He quickly overtook her and she felt his hands grasping her wrists and laying on top of her to subdue her.

"My lady, please... let me explain."

It was the "My lady," that caught her attention.

She soon quieted and looked into the blue eyes she remembered on deck.

"Please, let me explain my lady!"

"Go ahead ..."

I have been sent by His Majesty, King George the Third to keep you from being captured. If you will allow me to get us to safety, I most certainly will explain."

At his request, and her delight to know that someone was rescuing her instead of killing her she quickly aided her now savior and helped him row to a small island they were only 600 yards from.

They quickly drug the ship into the surrounding tree line and waited out of sight. Behind them was a large chest, map, compass and barrel of something.

They waited until nightfall watching as the schooner with the passengers and crew went to another small island a thousand yards to the east.

The Allegiance made short work of her ship, already listing, on fire and slowly sinking beside the pirate vessel. No one seemed to emerge from either craft.

As soon as things quieted and the sun was setting, he gently touched her arm and directed her to the chest.

They knelt before the chest and just as he felt a sting and slap across his face.

"What's going on!"

"My lady, please, you are safe and sound. There is no need for that."

The next 20 minutes was spent with her captor explaining the enormous plot to kidnap her, her ship and kill the other passengers. This all to obtain the stores of the Kings gold stowed on board unbeknownst to her.

The pirates would have, in turn held her, an emissary with three letters tattooed on the bottom of her feet. Those three letters revealed the location of the Kings riches and weapons on Tortugas. If she had been captured, surely the British interests in the Caribbean would fall to Spain. The pirates were to keep the stowed cargo and weapons, reveal the letters to the Spaniards, kill her and in turn wreck havoc on the British colonies.

By the time the story was finished she no longer thought of the letters on her feet as her initials, which they happened to be, but also the key to the crown's prominence in the New World. A fire had been lit, rum served in wooden cups and a store of pickled herring was warming on the fire. All contents of the chest.

The fire took over the glow the sun was relinquishing. She settled under the blanket the chest had also provided. The plan was to destroy the pirate ship and send word with three wrong letters to the Spanish spies. In turn, this would lead them to an ambush of their fleet at the hands of the Union Jack.

Until then, they would wait until morning for a smaller craft to quietly take her and the rest of the passengers and crew to safety in Hispaniola. But that would have to wait until morning.

Amid all this, it struck her that she was a pawn in a larger game being played since birth. She had heard numerous stories of a secret code guarding the crown's numerous treasures hidden in some fantastic way. Never did she dream of her foot being the key to the Royal lineage.

And she was angry, hurt, but filled with astonishment, that her foot played such a major roll. Sheepishly, she looked at the letters on the bottom of her right foot, A. R. J.

These were the secret password.

"And, I have to tell you this," he continued as the rum disappeared from his cup, "I'll have to kill you if I can't save you. At the very least, cut off your right foot."

She was not amused.

He continued, "You see, I've known you my whole life. I was captured by Spanish pirates very young. I watched them brutally beat and rape my mother and father. I spent many years in Spain learning the language, growing in their customs the property of the privateers."

"In my early-teens I was aboard a frigate captured by the British. I made them aware of my British heritage and asked ... pleaded .. with them to return to England where I could be in service to the King."

"Graciously, they held me captive until my story was verified and trained me as a spy. My whole objective was to know you. To learn everything I could to protect you and your secret from whomever could find it."

"I've watched you grow and become a beautiful woman. Always at a distance falling madly in love with you, but never being able to hold or touch you. I know everything there is to know about you. You scars, tendencies and eating habits. That's why there's horseradish in the chest, I requested it as I know you love it on pickled herring."

"Two years ago, I was sent to infiltrate the Spanish armada and bring any information I could to the attention of the crown. I was fortunate and was able to find information enough to save you and the royal treasures, of which I consider you one, maybe the most precious."

She sat in silence. She only heard the waves and the wind as she watched his beautiful blue eyes, easily passable as a Spaniard, but his thick Irish brogue, mixed with Castilian.

Here was her savior and best friend all in one convenient package. She felt a debt to him as well as a burning desire to be more than just his protectorate.

The whole of her life was in front of her right now. She wanted him.

To protect her.

To be with her.

To watch over her.

To love her.

"We are still not out of danger yet. In the morning a cannon will sound at 6:00 and we will respond with a specific musket shot of green. Much like a firework you have seen on Jubilee."

"But, what will become of me?" she asked.

"You will be placed in a very comfortable estate in England, and all the riches from the ship you came from are now your possession. The crown hopes you will live a very full life in a new place of comfort and happiness. You will obviously need to change your name. Seeing as you have no family his highness will ask nothing of you, but in return for your life's secret commitment, you will be rewarded richly."

"On one condition," she uttered in haste. "That you come and live with me and let me give you the family you lost."

He looked at the ground and in a still silent voice replied, "Whatever you wish my lady."

They drank one more mug of rum and spoke congenially and with the awkwardness of a first catillion.

The rum had relaxed her. She was in the presence of a guardian angel as well as her executioner. But all for her and it sounded as if her initial fascination was shared at least in part. Ok, in whole.

She moved closer to him still wrapped in a blanket. She placed it around his shoulder and noticed the musket shot had grazed his shoulder.

"Here let me help you with that," she said.

He let her remove his shirt and clean his wound. She noticed his shoulders were broad and they tapered to his magnificently shaped hips.

She moved her hand over his skin and he placed his hand softly over her ear. He pulled her in in the light of the small fire.

Her eyes closed and she felt his lips kiss her for the first time. Their eyes opened and she found herself in love, if that was remotely possible she could trust her thoughts, feelings and heart to someone with such a life.

Yes, she could.

Her hands moved down his side to his waist and hip. It was as perfect as she imagined.

He kissed her more and found themselves lying on the blanket in front of the fire.

He moved over her, bare-chested and slightly sandy. On her back she looked up at him. His eyes pierced her and she wanted something else to penetrate her besides his eyes.

She placed the ivory fingers on the back of his neck and pulled him close. She could hear the waves crash near them. It was the music to keep the passion alive.

He slipped the petticoat off with ease, "A true pirate," she thought and made his way between her legs kissing her navel soft and sweet.

His tongue made circles around her as she sat in total relaxation and ecstasy. His hands moved over her stomach and breast. Moving her like the waves.

She could hardly catch her breath. And just when she thought she was about to reach that pinnacle, he stopped and moved closer to her. He kissed her ignited the flame inside her. Ooooo, she was so close.

He moved smoothly and placed himself inside her. His rhythm matched that of the waves and was hotter than the fire beside them.

He moved in and out kissing all the while moving inside of her with purpose and meaning. She was taken by him. Fully; totally.

Her legs moved up to his side and he moved quickly and then slowly. She felt him fill her up and retreat and then advance again.

She looked deeply at him as if to say, "Now," and he let loose with everything and she almost lost sight of him. It was sweet and intense.

He rolled her over on top of him and they waited on the beach.

The waves crashed as she fell asleep. he wrapped her in the blanket and stoked the fire to keep her warm. He would stay up all night watching over her until the canon fired, his musket loaded and ready.

The sun rose and the canon sounded. He returned fire, waking her in time to see the other group fire their red flare. soon the boat was in sight.

She hurriedly fixed the dress she retrieved from the chest, partly to conceal her tattered clothing, partly as a disguise. the captain of the boat welcomed her aboard.

He had a strange familiarity.

"Going to Essex, are we?" he asked.

"I believe so," she replied. And they were off. The captain sat and tapped his wooden leg on the hull of the boat.