4 comments/ 14849 views/ 3 favorites Duchess of the Sea Ch. 01 By: Piratess The ship creaked eerily against the docks, the haunting sounds echoing deep within. Morgan sat hunched over her table, drowning in merchant papers and tariffs as the candlelight glowed and flickered golden around her and the cabin. She was staring at the numbers willing her brain to function, but her wandering mind wouldn't comply. Instead, Morgan was far off in another place, reliving a very different scene. One that had led a merry chase, and left her here to wait out in hiding on the sweltering islands... The ballroom dulled, conversations lowered to hushed whispers and wide open stares toward the doorway. "Her name is Morgan." The captain grimaced to Admiral Scott, "Lady Morgan Kelly..." The Admiral glanced at the captain's expression, uneasy at his reaction. Morgan stood tall at the grand hall entrance, a defiant and aggravating, yet stunning beauty, and her eyes directly challenging the Admirals. She lifted her eyebrow in false mockery as the two men stared at her openly. Admiral Scott found himself almost entranced. He had had heard she was beautiful but nothing prepared him for her in the flesh. He remembered vividly that her mother was a beauty, but as a child Morgan was anything but beautiful. It was more than 6 years since he had seen her last. The Admiral had heard quite a bit of this wild young girl. No-one really knew her true background; perhaps she was Irish, the rumours often ran rampant throughout the ports of call, and he had heard totally wild accusations of her pillaging, plundering and fighting better than any man, and then turning the treasures over to the poor or orphaned. More often than not, his ships, and other rich sailors were targeted; his stores and stocks were repeatedly stolen from. The Admiral knew that it was all planned, that he was the target, but he had his own plans with Lady Kelly, and he smiled to himself knowingly. Morgan tried to breathe deeply, her chest bound in the restricting corseted ball gown. She had found her target; Admiral Scott. Morgan glanced down at her dress; the colour was that of the dark stormy ocean, with shimmering flecks of silver. The deep V neckline was alluring, her sleeves off the shoulder in an unusual fashion. She was out of habit in wearing such finery; the last ball she had attended was at least two years prior. Gathering her thoughts, Morgan slowly walked into the humid ball room; gold flicker of candles giving the whole room a warm glow. There were many beautiful ladies, sweeping skirts, diamonds and pearls, and many fine gentlemen, in their military splendour, clean shaven and scented. Many eyes had turned on her, and Morgan smiled with all the grace of a queen. Hushed whispers of her name echoed across the hall, Morgan secretly chuckled to herself about her reputation here in England. Her unusual complexion captured many peoples attention. Her hair, a rich combination of fiery red, copper, and sun streaked strawberry blondes with her large winter blue eyes, dark lashes and fair skin often drew attention wherever she went. Her blue gown enhanced her features, and tonight drew many smiles of admiration, jealousy and desire. Morgan headed towards Admiral Scott, her eyes twinkling with disobedience. "Admiral," Morgan curtsied slowly, "How very nice to meet you...finally." Morgan straightened and met his challenging rich dark brown eyes. Morgan suddenly felt prickly all over. "My Lady, how very nice to meet you." His tone was nearing sarcasm. "Er you know my colleague, Captain Smith?" Morgan proudly faced the man, smiling widely she remarked, "Yes, I believe we met in the Spanish Main, how are you Captain?" her eyes danced with devilish mischief. The captain stammered and his cheeks flaming red. Morgan glowed with satisfaction, as she had most of these men round her little finger among other things; Except for the Admiral... They were approached by Captain McNally, Lieutenant Jones and their partners, Morgan also knew them from sailing in the Spanish Main, and across to the coast of America. Stealing a glance at the Admiral before modestly curtsying Morgan excused herself to find the drinks. Making her way through the open stares, nodding at various Dukes and Duchesses she remembered from the ton, Morgan headed for the refreshments. "What you doin' 'ere love?" A rough but strangely familiar voice came from behind her. Slowly Morgan turned around. "Devlin!" She hushed excitedly, eyes bright with new found happiness. She looked him up and down with a bewildered smile; he was dressed as a servant of all things. "Shush! What you doin here? Playing with fire again..." Devlin stammered. Morgan interrupted him caught between hysterics of laughter and sheer exasperation, "Devlin, what's this terrible accent you have! What are you doing in London? How long have you been here? You're not working here for the Admiral are you?" "I'm earning an honest wage young sister, and more importantly what are you doing here Morgan? You aren't going to do anything to the Admiral are you...? Revenge is not so sweet..." Morgan battered her eyelids in false innocent protest. "Why of course not brother, I'm just here for a dance." Morgan's brow furrowed, "But quite seriously, why are you here?" Devlin's eyes grew dark, "I'm warning you Morgan, do not get caught up with him. He is more than even you can handle. And what for? You have all the treasure, land and ships you could ever want, which is a hell of a lot more than a lady should want! He is not what you need to go after. Please leave, before it is too late." Morgan stared at her brother with real disbelief, and then determination flashed though her eyes. "You will not tell me what to do or where to go brother, and I'm not a lady anymore, I left that years ago... And stop avoiding my question!" Morgan whispered sharply. She silently thanked God her brother didn't know half of the things she had done in her life. "Look, we are being watched I must go, meet me later tonight, at the Three Swallows, okay? Please don't do anything stupid." Devlin begged her. "Yes of course I'll be there." Morgan replied, she straightened and lifted her head haughtily. "But first give me quick drink!" Her eyes lit up with mischief, her brothers the same. Devlin handed her a snifter, and mimicked poshly "Milady... you haven't changed." "Thankyou." She replied winking then downed the glass in a flash. It burned down her throat into her chest, heat flaring throughout her lungs. "Ugghh." Devlin suppressed a sad chuckle, as Morgan returned to the ball. He was so proud of his older sister, braver than he ever was, he was too afraid to even tell her that he was working for the admiral and even more scared to admit that it was against his will. If only she knew what trap she was falling into. He hoped and prayed that she would be safe, and that one day he could protect her as she had them. From across the ballroom, Admiral Scott had watched Morgan the entire time; in fact he couldn't tear his gaze away, even if he wanted to. He watched the two meet, talk and share special looks bonded by love and family. An evil pleasure spread through his body; it was going to be so easy to get her! He stepped back into the shadows of the room, contented to wait for his prey to come to him... Morgan had danced for near two hours, hand after hand being offered for the next dance, and her head was spinning. The room was stifling; a overwhelming mix of heavy perfumes and body odour, candle wax and wafts of food. Before any more hopeful suitors could call her Morgan made a dash for the open cool air of the large balcony. The clean night air was a welcome relief, and she breathed deeply. There were several lovers taking the opportunity to romance under the stars, Morgan moved silently away around from the candle lit area. Rounding the corner, Morgan sank back against the cold stone walls, staring up at the night sky which was a familiar comfort for her. Her thoughts turned to her brother, her stomach knotted with fear for him. She felt sure that it was more than coincidence that he was here. How could she get him out of here? "Plotting your next course Miss Kelly, or something more sinister?" A deep voice shattered the peace in the dark. Morgan's breath caught in her chest. A shadow moved closer beside her, and his dark eyes were shining even darker. "Admiral Scott." Morgan stated tersely, slightly uneasy at being cornered, trying hastily to compose herself. "Correct." He replied smoothly, before his demeanour changed threateningly. He continued to gaze at her for a long moment, sending chills through Morgan's body. "Just taking some air, it's quite stifling in there. And you? I haven't seen you dance tonight Admiral." She replied coolly after regaining some composure, she lowered her eyelids shielding her soul from his dark and penetrating gaze. "Well something tells me you're not here to wish me well for my birthday...and I'm out here to make sure even my enemy is enjoying her night." He drawled sarcastically before growling, "What do you want Morgan?" His whole body language flashed dangerously, with intent. He turned to face her, one arm leaning over her head against the wall, his body moving closer to hers. For the first time since taking to the sea, Morgan felt fear creep through her veins. Her brother's words echoed in her mind, 'He is more than even you can handle'. Her reasons for being there flooded back into her mind like a raging torrent. Images of her village being burned, people being captured and tortured, her mother taken away her step father had also been taken or abandoned them. Her brother was only 2 years of age, and didn't remember a thing, but the memories haunted Morgan every day. Morgan slowly moved her hand between her skirts, where she kept a sharp dagger handy. As if he knew her moves the Admiral swiftly and sharply grabbed her right wrist. "I think not Miss Kelly, a simple answer would suffice." His smile was darkly seductive. "You will get what is coming to you Admiral Scott, and I intend to be the one who delivers it." Morgan growled defensively, vainly trying wriggle free from his grasp. In one swift movement, he had grabbed Morgan and twirled her savagely, her face grazed against the stone walls. He was directly behind her, pressing his hard body against hers and deftly removed the dagger from her skirts to holding it to her throat. Gripping her tightly he could feel her beautiful soft curves through the layers of silk and satin, and to his surprise his reaction was strong, instantly feeling himself swell and grow with the sensation. Moving his head to press against her ear and neck, he was tempted to kiss her shoulder. "I had heard of you Miss Kelly, a pirate come Robin Hood saviour, who seeks revenge on those who murdered your people and stole your home, but I am not the one who you should seek Morgan," his voice thickened, "so don't even try." Morgan was breathing heavily now, nothing had gone to plan, it always goes to plan! She cried out in her mind, she hadn't felt this trapped since she was captured in Tripoli. How did he know her story? Not even her crew knew about her past, her closest friends and ship mates didn't even know her real title... Just as abruptly, the Admiral threw the dagger aside and deftly spun Morgan back to face him. He gripped her shoulders, pressing her back towards the wall. He stared at her wild eyes; he could see her fierce determination and spirit. Her cheeks were flushed and lips slightly parted as she took shallow and hasty breaths. His treacherous mind envisaged her underneath him, her mouth parted the same way, breathing shallow and... a sharp jolt of desire sparked through his being, snapping him back to reality. He really didn't account for her beauty to be so alluring, and he mentally compared her to the tales of Mermaids luring their prey with siren songs and sheer magnetism. Morgan too was shaken by this encounter. Her body heated, but she wasn't feeling hatred. Her belly flipped with fear and a strange ache began to consume her body. Panic rose in her throat, "Remove you hands," Morgan commanded roughly. The Admiral held and challenged her stare for a long moment, before he dropped his arms and stepped back from her. His eyes darkened impossibly, before he lowered his lashes and looked away. Without returned his gaze, he spoke softly, "Enjoy your evening Lady Kelly," before turning on his heel and leaving swiftly and as silently as he had arrived. Morgan was frozen against the wall, her feet rooted to the floor, her legs heavy as lead. She clasped her heated cheeks with cool hands, and steeled herself against the Admiral. She knew this was going to be a long night, and fearful knew it was only the beginning of this battle. Duchess of the Sea Ch. 02 A knock at the door of the cabin interrupted Morgan's vivid memories. Her eyes focused again on the paperwork in the dying candlelight. "Come in," she called out, hand poised at reach for her pistol just in case. It was her first mate and dear friend, Fredrick, who had sailed with her for near 7 years now. "Only me," he reassured her, knowing that she would be ready to shoot any intruder within seconds of entering her cabin. "Brought you some grub, figured you'd be in 'ere doing the papers." "Thank you," Morgan blearily smiled; he always looked out for her. "You should get some sleep tonight; we've got the watch out at various locations Morgan. Please, you look like you haven't slept in weeks." "Thanks Fredrick, I know I can count on your for your honest opinion cant I?" She replied cheekily, but she knew he was right. She needed all the strength she could harbour. The aroma of the food made her stomach growl, and they both laughed at the rumbling noise. Fredrick cleared room on her small dining table and placed the warm meal down. "Come on, eat up and then to bed." He nagged gently. Morgan groaned in false protest as she rose from her work desk, and staggered across to the food, sliding into the small chair. "Thank you Fredrick." She said again, and he nodded at the plate and left the cabin, firmly shutting the door behind him. Morgan slowly ate a few hearty mouthfuls, but exhaustion began to consume her. Toying with the remainder of the food, she decided she should hit the bed before she fell asleep in her food. Checking the dagger was still under her pillow, the pistol tucked into her boot beside the bed, Morgan flopped onto the sheets and hauled a heavy woolen blanket over her body. Sleep came quickly but it was not restful. She resumed her vivid memories in her sleep... ...Still shaken by the encounter with the Admiral on the terrace, Morgan was alert and on edge. She reentered the ballroom, wary of the eyes that turned upon her. Casting a fleeting glance towards where her brother was, she decided that it may be best to leave and rethink the plan. Although she knew that Admiral Laurence Scott was a force to be reckoned with, she also knew it was her duty to bring justice to her village and family and for many other villages, and fight against everything the Admiral stood for. Yes, she needed to know more about the Admiral, about his daily movements, the plans for the ships in the next few months and how the hell he knew more about her than she did of him. She could still feel his burning eyes on her, as if they have left a mark on her minds eye. Her stomach flipped, the uneasiness creeping through her veins again. She began to glide towards the safety of her brother Devlin when she was abruptly stopped by jolly and slightly tipsy Captain McNally. "Fair Lady Kelly, will you do me the great honour of taking the floor with me for the next dance?" he bellowed, his eyes glazed and cheeks hotly flushed. Lowering her lashes and putting her best demure mask on, Morgan whispered her reply, "How very kind Captain but..." McNally interrupted with laughter, not letting her respond and swiftly grasped her hand with his sweaty palm and groped for her waist before he whirled her around towards the dance floor. "Great, just great." Morgan growled under her breath, plastering a faux smile on her face for the dance. This is not where she needed to be right now. The Admiral could be anywhere right now; he had her at a disadvantage. She needed to regroup her thoughts and plans. As she followed the captain's lead of the twirls and steps, occasionally stomping on her toes, Morgan tried to discreetly find the Admiral. She could not see him in the hundreds of faces of the crowd, which were becoming blurry from the dizzying twirls of the dance. An unusual feeling of panic started to envelope her, as she also couldn't see her brother. Morgan couldn't wait for the music to end, and as quickly as it had started the Captain had twirled her for the last time before bowing and clapping merrily with the other dancers. A sigh of relief escaped her lips and she began to relax. Not a moment later she inhaled sharply stifling a cry as a vice like grip held her waist planting her firmly on the spot. "I think I would like to dance now," a voice commanded softly in her ear, sending violent shivers through Morgan's body, "With you." Showing an outward calm she did not feel, Morgan leisurely turned to face her demanding dance partner, again to face the fiery rich eyes of the Admiral. "Do I have a choice to decline this dance?" Morgan seethed through her clenched teeth. His face darkened impossibly, but his eyes lit up with devilish amusement. "No. You don't." He stated smoothly, a hint of a smile touching the corner of his hard lips. Her mind skittered. What game was this?! She certainly did not account for such behaviour on his part. His hand skilfully gripped her wrist again; he held it with a ferocity that Morgan had only felt in battle. She grimaced briefly, before trying in vain to yank her arm back towards herself in an effort to at least unbalance the Admiral if not loosen his grip. Determinedly he strode towards to dance floor, trailing a staggering Morgan who was trying to walk calmly behind him. They took to the floor, and the crowd hushed and murmured. This was the Admirals first dance of the night, and apparently of the season. Dragging her swiftly to face him in the middle of the dance area, Morgan was astonished at his public display with her. Her eyes were large and bright with a mixture of fear and surprise to his actions. She gazed openly at him, and Admiral Scott remained possessive, commanding and frustratingly composed. Other dancers meekly left the floor, to join the growing audience. All eyes had turned on the couple. Morgan felt a betraying blush creep over her cheeks, and for the first time in years felt extremely vulnerable. The music began, the Admiral bowed and Morgan curtseyed before he firmly held her waist again. She could feel the heat from his hand burn through the layers of fabric. Morgan felt her chest grow tight, and all of a sudden the bodice felt 3 sizes too small for her and she struggled to breath. Refusing to look at him she turned her head slightly away and haughtily lifted her chin. Laurence Scott looked down at the savage angel he was about to dance with. He had to smother a laugh as he watched her vainly struggle with her composure. And as she refused to look at him, he took the opportunity to savour her beauty. Her hair truly was unusual. He had a sudden urge to shake it loose from its constraints and have it shimmer down about her shoulders. Her skin was creamy and smooth for someone who spent so much time at sea, but it was her eyes that captivated him. They were as easy to read as a child's book, yet contained many secrets and stories. The blue hue changed from ice winter blue, to a bold bright azure along with her fiery temper. Dark brown lashes framed the dazzling eyes, which were lowered against his stare as she continued to look away from him. His gaze travelled to her lips which were firmly set, yet so full and lush almost begging to be kissed. He began to lead the dance, and was surprised to find her light on her feet. He added a mental note of that, as she was probably a very good swordswoman as well. Sure and light footed was a good sign of a good sword fighter. Morgan was on the same thought pattern as the Admiral. He was an agile and very smooth dancer, which meant he was good with a sword. Morgan knew that he was trying to unsettle her, and he was doing a damn fine job of it too. A deep voice shattered her thoughts. "You dance beautifully Morgan..." "Are we on first name basis now Admiral?" She responded hastily and bitterly, still avoiding his eye contact. Laurence tensed slightly but remained silent, and swiftly whirled her for a spin. He clasped her waist again, slamming their bodies together causing Morgan to breathlessly cry out. Her gaze slammed to his as they continued to glide effortlessly and gracefully across the dance floor. The tension was impenetrably thick between them; the air became almost too heavy to breathe. His eyes seemed to pierce hers, and Morgan could feel a new and even more dangerous sensation quickly spreading through her body. An unfamiliar ache burned through her belly, and she felt her heart begin to race. They continued to dance in heavy silence, but in her head Morgan could nearly scream. As if Laurence could read her mind, he drew close to her ear and whispered roughly, "Just enjoy the dance Morgan; I imagine it's been some time since you attend a ball. I'm flattered you took the time to come to mine." A ruthless and mirthless smile crossed his lips. Morgan almost exploded, but managed to keep an equally false smile on her face. "Don't flatter yourself Laurence Scott! I'd rather be anywhere else in this world right now than to be in your arms, damn you to hell!" Laurence threw his head back in real laughter, as he twirled her again. Morgan's temper raged and she felt her face again blush furiously. Drawing her back towards him more gently this time, his gaze warmed and it flickered down across her chest, then back up to her lips. To Morgan it almost felt like a caress, and she shivered involuntarily. "Darling, being in one's arms is usually in a more private place than a ballroom," he chuckled seductively, "and I assure you, once you are there you won't be damning me, you'll be begging me..." In her previous life, Morgan had experienced her fair share of suitors and interludes. She usually could flirt her way through any conversation and get whatever she needed. She found the tool quite useful for getting information, but tonight she had lost all trace of confidence and self assurance. From any other man this last statement would not have even entered her head, usually she would let the remark slide, but from her enemy it delivered a blow so deep it made her belly flip and her legs to weaken. Unprepared for his brazen comment, Morgan was left agape. Laurence noted the sheer shock register in her eyes, and he felt a swelling of pride as he knew he had her ready to run. His gaze slid down her face again to her open mouth. His heart slammed into his ribcage. What an invitation to taste such sweet but surely poisonous lips! His loins ached momentarily. He had to remind himself that she was here to kill him! And all he could think of was tugging her hair firmly back, revealing the smooth skin of her neck and delicate collarbone to caress the skin with his burning lips, wanting her to beg and cry out... Breaking his thoughts, he twirled Morgan again, her skirts floating around her as if she floated just above the floor. Morgan glanced back at his face, and she thought she saw a hint of red shade his cheeks. Gracefully they moved around the room, still the centre of the ball, the murmurs has nearly ceased as the crowd watched the entranced couple. Morgan looked up to Laurence's face, and their gazes burned. It was an explosive mixture of hatred and sheer desire. Again his devouring gaze fell to her lips. Morgan was so engrossed in his eyes that she slipped and missed a step. A small gasp escaped her, but Laurence fluently held her up and she fell back into time of the dance. The small breathless pant that she let out sent torturous and ferocious need through Laurence. The sharp stab of desire went straight to his groin, and he fought himself to not drag her in his arms and make her mindless with kisses. He mentally shook his head. Given the chance, she will kill you, he told himself. It was a moment before Morgan realised the music had stopped. She was spellbound with the Admirals eyes. They now glowed with a different ferocity of what she has seen from their last encounter. The Admiral bowed gracefully, and sharply left the dance floor, leaving Morgan to hurriedly curtsey and also leave the floor after him. The crowd applauded and burst into chatter, and Morgan felt the gossip burn at her back. The ballroom was abuzz. Her pace quickened as she headed for the stairs to the foyer. She needed to leave, immediately. Her mind raced. As she past the ballroom doors, Morgan began to run through the hallway to the grand staircase. Hoisting her skirts around her knees she nimbly negotiated the stairs toward the carriages outside. Reaching the last stair she lowered her skirts to run out the doors, and leap into her carriage. Just as she past the last room before the front entrance she was harshly caught and winded by a burly arm. She struggled against the unyielding grip, and was heaved into an adjoining dark room... ... Morgan's eyes flew open, she sat bolt upright and her breathing was ragged. Slowly her eyes focused in the dim light. Gradually assurance washed over her, she had been dreaming again. Morgan lay back down, slowing her breathing, willing sleep to come, peaceful sleep.