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Cutting Old Ties (for Vivid Fizz)

L

Life on Mars

Star
Joined
Jan 9, 2009
The Jamaican air was cool that night as the guests arrived in the manor wearing their finest European fashions. Amidst the palm trees and jungle calls the white colonist couldn't look more out of place in their tight-fitting clothes and large dresses not designed for the Caribbean climate but for them it was a way of tying themselves to their homeland, and way of making sense int his new and often dangerous world. The Governor was throwing this party in celebration of the signing of the final treaty between England and its enemies, securing the peace that would allow them to love without fear of attack and more importantly secure their fortunes in new trade routes.

The evening was going well as the people amused themselves with dancing or gossip, one corner of the home becoming well marked for the laughter and daring language that issued from it. Somewhat removed from the main party a man was busy entertaining a trio of young ladies, their high-pitched laughter flirtatious giggling almost filling the room. He was tall, strapping fellow well over 6 feet in height and with broad shoulders that marked him as a man of considerable strength. He stood out amongst his crowd with his tanned skin and hands that were obviously used to toil, as well as the scar that crossed his right eye. He was Edward Ripley, a man of some fame and fortune in Jamaica and, according to the local gossip, recently returned from a merchant run to settle down and spend the rest of his days running a plantation.

While he was dressed in his finest fashion and seemed to blend in perfectly amongst high society there was an always a wall between him and the other party-goers. While they had all either been born into such a life or had the right connections his journey into this world had been made through blood and war, with stories of slit throats and burnt Spanish ships trailing behind him. He was, or had been, an English privateer loyally serving his majesty and the governor of Jamaica. And while the younger men, and more importantly the young ladies, loved to hear of his exploits the older gentleman who controlled the colony felt him riffraff. They were more than pleased to support him during wartime with the threat of Spanish or French ships laying waste to them all was a daily fear, but in this time of peace he was seen as a relic no longer needed.

Not to mention the rumors that his wealth was soon to be dried up.

And so the once-famous captain stood with his small entourage, laughing with them as the people whispered their insults and dislikes. He payed them no mind, knowing and not caring what they thought of him. For as his eyes scanned the room he could imagine what they would say of him after tonight's festivities.
 
A ball was being thrown tonight and everyone of means was to attend. Her father had signed an agreement with the locals and to celebrate a gala was being hosted in his honor. Not that Rebecca enjoyed dances anymore. Jamaica was warm all of the time and the elaborate gowns, with their many layers, and those terribly hot wigs made the heat almost insufferable for any woman of fashion. And Rebecca Juliet Devan was certainly a woman of fashion and desirability. As the daughter of a governor, she had many people that wished to court her. It was popular in that time to have many admirers and so she allowed these men to continue to send her presents, letters, poems… she would only scorn a man that she thought was going to go too far with her or expected anything in return.

Rebecca looked into her mirror. Her chestnut brown hair had been styled in one of those elaborate up fashions. Pearls interlaced with her curls and gaudy Amethyst gems the size of her closed hand had been pasted to it. At least she wasn’t wearing a powered wig, which was the favored look of the day. A silk patch had been placed at the corner of her mouth and another on her bosom. The maid had prodded and poked the beautiful girl until she was the symbol of beauty every woman wished to be in that era.

She had entered the ball on her fathers arm, already sweating despite the cool of the air. Being around so many people was stifling! Though one may never had guessed the eighteen year old woman was feeling uncomfortable. She smiled at people and spoke with people in her characteristically sharp wit. Men begged her for dances and she wrote their names down on a card, accepting only those she knew to be of good standing. This was mostly because her father had a reputation to keep and because Rebecca was not that into dancing. Her skill was in piano forte and various other forms of music.

During her first circling of the lavish festivities, her eyes came to rest on the infamous Edward Ripley. Her smile fell some. She remembered him from a season or two ago. He had attempted to gain her favor and at first instance she had rebuffed his advances. A privateer was beneath her station and would have been social suicide. After all, he had a menagerie of painted dolls around him, all squealing and laughing as he no doubt told them something about his adventures. They probably were enthralled with his position.

Well, that was quite alright, one would probably marry him and find out that he had squandered all of his fortune.
 
"Oh, do tell us more about your time in Florida Mr. Ripley!" One of the girls giggled, fanning herself in an attempt to make the man notice her. IHer timing couldn't have been farther off however for it was at that moment that Ripley's eyes fell upon the young Rebecca, once again drawing young men to her with her charms. She truly was bleed by the angels themselves, for the daughter of the governor had only grown more beautiful since last he had lain eyes upon her. He smirked as the memory of his their last meeting came to mind, her rebuke of his advances having become a bit of a joke around his crewmen.

"Mr. Ripley?" The shrill voice of one of his group brought him back to reality and he quickly composed himself. "Ah yes!" He began with a flourish of his hand. "That is a good story. But one not quite fitting for this sort of setting." Leaning closely to the women he whispered to them. "Perhaps you girls would meet me on the forest-side balcony in a few minutes? There we may continue our discussion without fear of being interrupted."

The scandalous nature of the request sent the trio's hearts aflutter and did well to send them off and out of his hair for the time being. Moving out amongst the crowd he kept his profile as low as he could, watching from the corner of his eye his prey as she wrote down the name of another young hopeful. She was truly the bell of the ball and getting her in place would be no easy task. He was anything if not confident though, and the very moment her father's attention was taken he made his move.

He slid in front of her, cutting off another man who had just gotten up the courage. "Ah, Miss Devan. A delight to see you again," he bowed with practiced grace. Though he was at his most natural outside of such social gathering he was more than aware of it's rules. "Might there be a place on your card for me? I must say that after so long at sea my one desire is to try and win your favor with a dance."
 
Ah. Of course. She couldn’t stop from glowering. That rake had managed to weasel his way into her vicinity once again. Did Captain Ripley not comprehend that she simply wanted nothing to do with him? Though it was because of him partly that her father was able to sign the treaty with the locals, so she could not publicly humiliate him yet. Rebecca would get her chance though. The older set already disliked him again. Already his usefulness to them had waned and now they preferred to have nothing to do with him. The younger set was not nearly as powerful and thus, unable to change public opinion like their older relations. A good marriage could salvage that.

Was he planning to make her his bride for that end?

She shut her fan and gave him a polite smile. It wasn’t the same type look as the adoring young ladies had given him and she did not swoon over him. She simply smiled before answering. “I do have one more dance left,” she answered.

She took out her card and looked. The truth was that she had more than several left. She had turned down many young and strapping men that evening. More than she actually intended to. A frown pressed at the corners of her mouth. In fact, the next dance was free, so she wrote his name there. It was better to get it done and over with. Unlike the others she spurred, he was still viewed as a hero by some, so she could not deny him, lest people began to believe her family ungrateful.

“Captain Ripley,” she said, “I will see you in a short while. The next dance is yours.”

Though it seemed that she did not want to have any talk in between. Not with him. She flipped her fan back up, trying to stop the conversation. Though she doubted that now he was back on her trail that he would leave her be so soon. The woman suppressed a groan. Mr. Edward Ripley did not back away from challenges easily.
 
The other young gentleman looked hopeful for a moment but was cut down once again as Ripley maneuvered himself between her and the other suitors. "Ah, but why deny the pleasure of each others company until then? The months have been long and I am have been eager to continue our conversation from where it left off." He smiled in good humor, of course referring to how she had shunned him previously. In truth he held her no grudge, preferring women who can stand on their own. But after tonight he doubted her own feelings of ill-will towards him would improve.

"If you will allow me the privilege of saying so," he said, taking her hand in his own, "my lady has grown even more beautiful since last I saw her." He placed his lips on the back of her hand, laying a kiss there before she had the chance to pull away. "It is clear why the Spanish had once been so intent on capturing this island, for it holds the greatest treasure in this or any waters." Such flattery would win him little graces he was sure, but he loved the expressions she made as she tried to escape his gaze. The slight looks of annoyance and exasperation that she tried to hide were amusing to someone who lived outside the societal rules and could understand the frivolity of it all.

He was careful to keep himself as much out of possible view by her father as he could, though it was difficult to keep his eyes from straying down her body. The younger woman was ample in every department it seemed and his eyes proved hungry for the sight after these last few months of hardships.
 
He indeed was exasperating! Other suitors were waiting behind him. Other men that she didn’t already turn down. Other men that were far less vexing than this serpent with his silver tongue. Rebecca did not know why the man pressed her. The last time he was not a pleasant experience for him. She doubted that he wanted to be spurned once more. Young women were beginning to shoot her angry glances. He was their little fantasy, after all. A pained expression crossed her lovely features.

Without her permission, he took her hand and planted a kiss on it. Of course he went on with how she was beautiful and even went as far to say that she was the greatest treasure on the island. She rolled her eyes as he pressed a kiss to that hand.

“Quite,” she replied flatly to that comment. Her irritation was starting to show more visibly in both her facial expression and body language. She shifted uneasily as she stood, her shoes pinching her toes as she did so. She could see his eyes traveling her body. Yes. She had an ample chest and the corset did a wonderful job of pushing the orbs together and higher, rounding them delightfully. Many men had openly stared at her breasts. It had not bothered her. Now it did.

Her eyes scanned the room for her father. Surely he would swoop in and push her on the Commandant once more. The older man had an interest in her and her father and him had spoken on many occasions about finally being ‘married off’. Even that man would be more sufferable than this one.

“I am sure that there are greater treasures,” she finally managed to say. “Like those three gems I saw you speaking with earlier. Where did those lovely young ladies go?” Her voice dripped with sickenly sweet venom. Such girls chased after any man with an exciting story.
 
Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. "They are currently away, but then again such gems are far too easy to come by." That was one thing they could both agree upon, though Ripley didn't have as much objection to it as she did. "As much as I love to stroke my own ego I have already spent far too much time retelling stories to children. Though they have their uses, a man can only take so much before he seeks someone more...intellectual stimulating."

A black figure across the hall caught his eye. The man was dressed as a servant, offering wine to the Governor before making eye contact with Ripley. Has anyone in this party cared enough about the lower class to look at them they might have noticed a certain hardness to the servants gaze, much harder than was expected of a man in his position. The two exchanged a knowing glance before the man continued his charade.

The hour was drawing near and Ripley would need to tread carefully now if he was still going to secure his prize. As much as Rebecca held herself to societies standards he doubted she would suffer him forever. Time to over her an escape. "I had been looking forward to spending the evening with you, perhaps catching up on the affairs of Jamaica while I was away. It is unfortunate that I will be forced to leave soon after our dance." He needed her to himself, away from this crowd, and the dance floor would provide him with a sufficient excuse until the time to strike.
 
And what uses might that be? She didn’t want to know. The beautiful woman forced herself to yawn, as if she were bored of his pursuit. This man must have wanted to have his ego scathed. Her eyes did not meet his as she searched around the room once more. Now would have been a great time for her father to greet Captain Ripley. An aggravated sigh came from her when she could not find his familiar visage. Damn it! How she wanted to just walk away from the privateer.

She nearly laughed when he mentioned speaking of Jamaican affairs. It was a rare thing when she paid attention to what her father did. As a woman it was preferred that she did not get her head muddled with such things. It was considered unladylike. The only about his words that made her genuinely interested her was when he stated he was going to be leaving shortly after their dance.

“Thank God,” she said quite audibly. Her cheeks flushed. That wasn’t good though it did make her feel better. She stifled a giggle and quickly added, “that we will at least be able to have the dance.” It was clear though Rebecca was simply attempting to cover her cruel admission.

Her eyes were alight though and this time a strained laugh did escape her full ruby lips. “But I am not sure what exactly is going on with our dear Jamaica. As a woman, my father does not let me worry my head over such affairs. You could speak with him. I do believe he was looking for you earlier. He wanted to thank you personally for all of your hard work and dedication.”
 
He smirked at her little outburst , knowing she meant to hide an insult. He had been called much worse in his lifetime and her little social blunder did really little to wound him. "I would have fought off the entire Spanish Armada to have the honor of dancing with you, fair lady." The theatrical bow that followed was added with gusto. "Luckily tonight all I had to fight through was a pack of strays." He gave the other men a wink, knowing they were impatiently waiting.

Then Rebecca mentioned her father.

The privateer's body stiffened, muscles tensing as the thought of her father wanting to thank his for his work. Slowly he turned back to Rebecca, though he eyes seemed to be focusing on some distant object. Oh yes, he was sure the Governor would love to make a grand affair of him. Give him a good sending off before kicking him to the streets. "Yes, I'm sure he would. Far be it from me to deny his governorship," he practically spat out the word, "the chance to give proper thanks to those he owes." For that brief moment his voice was devoid of any mirth. Gone was the storytelling, egotistical man who gave clichéd compliments. This was someone else, someone that the pampered high society had never released they had unleashed.

The drop in character only lasted a moment before he got control of himself, his smile returning once more and his shoulders relaxing. "Yes, I suppose your father would be more suited to discussing the affairs of the day. Though I doubt he carries himself as gracefully as yourself. And of course, it is not he who I wish to dance with." He was growing tired of this game. Any longer and he would have to resort to his secondary plan. Offering his arm he asked her, "Might I trouble you to begin out dance earlier? I fear the night grows short for me."
 
At the mention of her father, the Captain’s demeanor instantly changed. Gone was the jovial nature of his compliments. It was replaced by something she had never seen from the man. It was darker than before. Her eyebrow rose and a slight worry filled her violet eyes. Perhaps he disagreed with something that the governor had done in the negotiations with the natives. The noticeable venom was hard to miss. Indeed, the beautiful Rebecca did not understand exactly was happening.

Though it only lasted a second and he fell back into himself. Another compliment was thrown at her. It was as generic as all the others she had heard that night. At least he was willing to start the dance earlier. As soon as it was over she would be free of the bore and on her way to dancing with another bore who was easier to deal with. She flashed him her first true smile of the evening, revealing white strait teeth.

She offered him her hand. “That sounds like the most reasonable thing to ever pass your lips, dear captain,” she replied. She didn’t even try to hide her joy at the thought of getting rid of him. Her eyes danced. “Lets just get this over with.”
 
He larger hand took her own, the softness of her skin contrasting with his own hard body as he felt her fingers settle on his palm. "You've made me a very happy man Miss Devan." Like a true gentleman he led her out towards the dance floor, making his way through past the gentry who kept their comments to themselves. Her father could scarcely interrupt a dance without making hurting his own reputation, giving Ripley enough time for his plan to commence.

The moment they stepped out onto the dance floor was the signal his cohort had been waiting for. Without anyone taking note the disguised servant left the room, heading for the highest floor and entering the first empty seaside room he could find. It was dark , the ocean shrouded under the blanket of night as the new moon lay overhead. Though one could see nothing out at sea the man prepared his signal, three lanterns lit in succession, and quickly left the room secure in the knowledge his comrades would soon be joining him.

As for Ripley he kept himself occupied with the dance, though it was as much of a farce as Rebecca seemed to intend. The movements were well-practiced, but that was all they were. Her own lack of enthusiasm mixed with Ripleys preoccupation made the entire event almost humorous for it was obvious to anyone with half a mind that the beautiful young lady couldn't stand the Captain. Ripley himself didn't seem very enthusiastic either, his eyes always darting around the room as if expecting someone to come and stop them. If only they knew.

The gentle music was suddenly interrupted by the most thunderous crashes from upstairs, one that shook the very foundations of the home and sent cracks of plaster falling upon the party-goers below. The screams of men and women quickly followed as a series of explosions followed suite, bright flares of orange lighting up outside as cannonballs rained down upon the colony.

Ripley was on Rebecca at once, his arm wrapping around her waste and pulling her to his hard body. This was what he had been looking forward to all night! "Someone's attacking the island," he hissed, seemingly in anger. The crowd surged as another volly hit outside, the people in panic. Never taking his arm off of her Ripley pushed them both against the wall, allowing them to escape the stampede.

"I know you don't care for me," he said, steel eyes looking into her own. "but I must insist on getting you to safety before this place is reduced to rubble." Another cannon shot. "I know I am the cad in your eyes, but believe when I say I will get you to safety. Trust me Rebecca.
 
Rebecca spun with him and followed his movements with a grace and elegance most women of the day were to have. Though there was no emotion in it. There was only the repetitiveness of her movements, having been done hundreds of times before, that kept her from tripping. If he were to misstep even once she would fall over due to her lack of awareness. It was a dull façade. The good captain did not even whisper those oh so clichéd sweet nothings into her ear like he normally did. That was somewhat of a disappointment, some of the sappier lines really brought the beautiful lady to tears from a laughing fit.

Though, suddenly, their farce was interrupted. A crash from upstairs shook the building. She gripped the arm of the Captain almost immediately and, as the second series of cannon fire, she let out a small scream. How could this have happened?! Her father had just signed that damned piece of paper so things like this would not happen! Anger, fear, and panic worked their way through her body. A dullness had clouded her mind. All of her was torn in so many directions that she was completely unsure what to do other than stare out in shock.

The screaming in the hall had gotten worse; people were trying to push each other out of the way to get to the exits. Many had fallen and were being stepped over and on in the mad dash of the crowd. Rebecca hardly recognized that Captain Ripley had pulled him to her or had moved them away from the stampede of panicking ball attendees. Her entire frame was a tremble and she looked up at him with fear in her eyes.

“F-f-fine,” she managed to stammer out before another shot rumbled the building, eliciting another scream from her. She held on to him tighter, pressing her body firmly to his in the process. Yes. Out. All she wanted was out of that horrible place.
 
She was being much more cooperative than he had thought she would be, though the way she trembled in his hands made it clear she was in very little state to resist. On top of that the look of very real fear in her beautiful eyes, eyes usually turned his way with a look of annoyance or hatred, had been more satisfying than he expected it to be. He would have loved to see the look in her father's eyes as he watched his daughter being snatched away by the very man who once protected her but sadly he already had a small window of time to work with.

Keeping his vice-like hold around her Ripley pushed into the crowd, carefully moving with it across the hall. Her father was no doubt searching for her, though since the guards would be preoccupied he had little to worry about. The sea captain steered the two of them through the throngs, physically shoving men and women aside when he had to as the explosions continued outside. The first blow to the upper right side of the mansion was the only planned attack on the home, the rest would simply be cover fire to distract the colony from his real ploy. Elbowing one of the aristocrats who blocked his path he finally dragged Rebecca to the locked red door he had made sure would be prepared for this occasion. Three knocks upon the door and it was opened from the inside, the servant that had acted as his man on the inside waiting for them.

"Ello Captain," the man said as he locked the door behind them. "All's been prepared at the western docks. Our boys should keep the cannons on 'em for a little while longer to make good our escape."

"And the fortress?" Ripley asked, all pretense of hiding what was going on having left him the moment that door was locked.

The man gave him an evil grin. "They didn't notice their guns had been sabotaged until it was too late. You can see the fires burning from here."

"Excellent," Ripley smirked. He twisted the younger woman in his arms to face him. She was truly a symbol of fine breeding and naivety. Almost a shame that he would be dragging her into his world. Almost. "Do try and not struggle. I'd rather not have to knock you unconscious."

Before he had even finished his cohort threw a large burlap sack over her head, pulling it far down her dress as he could as Ripley held her in place. Soon after a rope was made to complete the package, wrapping around arms and securing her for their journey.
 
The beautiful debutant kept her head buried in his chest as he pushed through the crowd. Whatever was going on, she did not want to see. The sounds of what were happening were enough! Captain Ripley could do all of the work of saving her, Rebecca did not mind in the least. Hopefully her father was alright. All she wanted was to see her daddy and cry in his arms like she had when she was a little girl. In those arms was protection and safety. Just like the arms of the captain. Perhaps she had been wrong about him. As they rushed she looked up at him, seeing him in a completely different light now.

Instead of heading out, however, he lead her to a red door. He knocked on it three times. What was he doing? Was he daft? But that would have been much better than what she witnessed. As things unfolded it became all too clear what was happening. The good captain had planned all of this! She shot him a fierce look. The anger inside of her was boiling so fiercely inside of her that she could not speak.

Not struggle? How could he expect her not to put up a fight. She was going to scream and squirm but before she could do any of that. Something fell over her head, making everything go black. She let out a high pitched squeal. Fighting back was completely impossible at this point. A rope had come quickly around and tied her arms and legs in place. She let out another scream and another and another until her voice was hoarse.

“You cad!” she said, her voice cracking terribly. “You bastard! You… you…” there were not words strong enough to describe the vileness of the captain. “My father will see you executed for this! I promise that you will hang!”
 
The captain could only smile at her last threat. "Better to die by the noose than in the gutter my dear," he remarked as he reached into his coat. The next sound she would hear was the click of a flintlock pistol being cocked near her ear. "Now my sweet Rebecca" he told her sweetly, using her name for the first time. The end of his gun was pushed into her chest, the deadly weapon ready to end her life at any moment. "I would hate to go to all this trouble to see your exquisite form ruined by your blood, but if you so much as draw any attention to us with your screams I will have little hesitation in shooting you. Am I clear?" The pistol pressed harder into her soft body and Ripley wondered if this was the closest the governor's daughter had come to death.

His crewman had already opened the window that would lead to their escape. It had all been planned out beforehand, a quick trek through the jungle to the western port were his ship was already ready to set sail. It would be some time before the governor learned of what really happened as his other ship laid waste to the eastern side.

Gripping her by the hips Ripley through the young lady over his shoulder like she was a sack of flour. It was unfortunate her body was hidden underneath that layer of burlap, otherwise he would have enjoyed the view of her backside and the feel of her pressed up against him. Soon they where outside, the sounds of the cannon fire slowly softening as they pushed through the jungle brush. Mud splashed around their feet and plants scratched at them but just as they expected they met with no resistance. Anyone running into the jungle now would only be a towns person trying to escape the blasts and of no mind to pay them any attention. The entire journey Ripley never once allowed his beautiful prize to drop, his body used to such treks.

His crew was already waiting for him at the docks. Ten strong men armed to the teeth and keeping an eye out for anyone who shouldn't be around. "Put her in the boat and cast off!" Their captain ordered, passing off the bound Rebecca to some of the men who quickly pushing her into the back of one of the rowboats, but not before getting a few feels for the lovely form hidden under the sack.
 
She felt as if she would faint! The sound of a pistol being readied to fire sounded in her ear and even through the thick burlap of the bag she had unceremoniously been stuffed into, she could feel a barrel being pressed into her chest. Rebecca stood still and instantly quieted. There was no point in getting herself murdered. The bitter taste of betrayal, anger, hate, and panic rested silently on her tongue. If she had eaten something before hand she would have thrown up at that moment. Luckily she had been running late and unable to have even a bite of her supper.

He grabbed her hips and threw her over his shoulder. She gave a grunt for having the wind being slightly knocked out of her. Just as she was demanded, she did not make a noise. Though she desperately wanted to. When she was on the traitor’s ship, she would certainly vocalize how exactly she felt. As she was carried along she began to think of some choice words to use.

After minutes of hurried sloshing around they stopped. Mr. Ripley ordered that she be taken to the back of the rowboat. Groping hands came up and got cheap feels at her body. Her cheeks burnt and she demanded that they kept their disgusting hands off of her, even if it were through a sack that they were getting their jollies. She wanted to scream something but she saved her pent up rage for later. Oh, Edward Ripley may have thought he had seen Hell but he was never at the end of Lady Rebecca’s burning anger.
 
Everything went off without a hitch, their prize along with several other valuables made off with during the panic spelling victory for their plans. Soon enough the lovely young woman was taken on board the ship and pushed against the mast, her arms untied and the burlap ripped off her body.

Awaiting her with eager eyes was a collection of miscreants from across the Caribbean. These men were true sailors, not at all the prim and proper men that her lifestyle promoted. Many were scarred and dirty and stared at her with an evil glare. Much like their Captain they too were spurned by the recent call to peace and many would have liked to settle their accounts with the governor's offspring then and there. It was a fair blessing that their Captain commanded so much respect from them that they held themselves back.

Ripley himself stood in front of her, pistol at his side and his sword drawn. He was already breaking up the crew after they got an eyeful of her, ordering them to man their stations and get the vessel moving. This was his element, the place were the true Edward Ripley could thrive. With an arrogant smirk he turned to his captive and gave her a mock bow. "I hope my lady found her journey comfortable. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to The Good Fortune, your new home for the next several weeks until your father can provide the ransom that he should find sometime tomorrow morning."
 
Rebecca grumbled as she was push against something hard, a slight pain resonating between her shoulder blades. The bag was taken off of her head. Her masterpiece hairstyle that her maid had spent hours perfecting now hung about her shoulders. All of the money that had been wasted on the gown, it was now wrinkled and torn. Even her pannier had been crushed. That hardly mattered. Every member of the crew had gathered around her it seemed. They had ravenous looks on their faces. Unease set in her stomach. Never before had she been around such men, men that were filthy and rough. A feeling of helplessness encased her and she pressed herself against the mast.

Fortunately that had more sense than to launch themselves at her. The beautiful governor’s daughter glared as Ripley cleared away the men. Her eyes narrowed on his form and she actually let out a feral growl as he approached her. There was absolutely nothing she could do. The bastard had a pistol and his sword was drawn. As he spoke she became more disgusted and angry. He had kidnapped her for ransom! Some choice words flittered around in her mind and she had to use every last bit of her willpower to stop herself from attacking him.

“This is completely and utterly insane,” she snapped at him. “Take me back home at once! My father will have you executed for this offense!” Those same words had no effect on him before she had been taken aboard the ship. Her delicate hands were curled into tight little fists. “Damn you Edward Ripley! Damn you! Damn you! DAMN YOU!”

She was nearly shrieking as she finished her last profanity towards the end of her words. With a huff she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I will simply not speak with you until my father sends ships to send me. It should not take long. In the morning, maybe midday, I will be going back to my home and you, dear captain, will be dead.”
 
The good captain patiently waited for his captive to finish her little outburst. To him nothing she said or did at this point mattered. The way she cursed his name and shot daggers out of her eyes only served to amuse him now as for all intents and purposes he had done what he had set out to do. He had made his point to the governor, may the man go to his grave with full knowledge of the misery he caused.

"Are you finished?" He inquired after she fell into silence, his sword suddenly raising up towards her neck. "You've always been an outspoken girl. Never could hide your distaste for someone, especially me." He chuckled. "But I believe I should inform you that any rescue attempt you're dreaming up by your father is nowhere near to the reality of your situation. Or perhaps you weren't aware of the reason your father hired privateers like me in the first place?"

He stepped closer, all personal boundaries thrown aside as his hand stroked her once-pristine hair. "My dear, your father cannot send out his ships because you are looking at them. Your father commissioned me to run his ships, to capture merchant ships of our enemies the Spanish and French, and to protect English Jamaica. Besides this one and the one that attacked your home all he has left are a gaggle of fifth-rate sloops barely fit to preform merchant duties. And I suspect he'll have some trouble getting a crew together."

Suddenly he grasped her chin forcing her to look at him as he pressed himself against her, blade resting against her throat. He had often boasted of his skill with a blade to the young women of Jamaica and now she was getting a first hand look at it. "And why do you think I would allow you to live in the event of our defeat?" His eyes were shape and intense, the eyes of a man who had killed up close before. "Your position as the governors daughter will not protect you here Rebecca," he spoke her name for the first time, the pretense of politeness dropped. "Many of the men on this ship are angry with your good father and lack my patience. They would simply rape and kill you now and be done with it."
 
Feeling the cold blade against her throat, Rebecca froze. Fear weakened her glare. This man had completely and utterly betrayed her and her father. There was no telling what he was capable of. Her mouth dried and she swallowed harshly. Her eyes never left his and as he stepped closer she had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything. Anger flashed in her eyes once more as he touched her hair. More anger as he spoke because she knew it was true. Her father had given Edward Ripley the best ships of the fleet. Now he was using them in a dastardly way.

She snarled as he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him as he pressed closer still. Rebecca did not like how close he was. This was all a game to intimidate her. He wanted to see her fear and wanted her to know that she was the helpless one. Well. She was just going to have to show him that she wasn’t afraid of him.

“You think you can make me fear you?” she asked in a whisper. “What is keeping you from allowing your men such a revenge? You can lie easily enough. Say that I am alive but really I am moldering away at the bottom of the ocean.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Why even bother keeping me alive at all? Isn’t it considered bad luck to have a woman on board anyway? My father, whether you like it or not, is going to find a way to make you pay for my imprisonment on this ship.”

Sorely Rebecca wanted to push him away. To slap him and cause him discomfort and pain.
 
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