Pirate's Price

by NovaD

Author's Notes

This is an AU story in which Blair Sandburg inherit's his estranged father's estate and a handsome bond slave named James Ellison. Through a number of twists of fate, James becomes a pirate who eventually hold's Blair captive and must protect him from a dangerous crew and others who want his wealth.

The depiction of a gay relationship on a pirate vessel may seem to fly in the face of what is known about Pirates and their ways. However, it was not necessarily an unusual relationship. According to the book, Pirates an A-Z Encyclopedia by Jan Rogozinski, homosexuality was not uncommon amongst pirates and was the preferred relationship because of the problems women on board presented. There are accounts of some captains risking their lives to save their male companions. Thus, this tale is not entirely fantastic.

To read more of my work, please feel free to visit my web site at: www.novad.org, or write me at: novad@hotmail.com.

Acknowledgments

My thanks, as always, to my husband Jared for the final edit and for his speed in delivery. I'd also like to thank my beta readers, Kim Berglund and Michelle Sauve.

PIRATE'S PRICE By NovaD

Chapter One

It seemed to Blair Sandburg that his worst experiences in life began with long voyages at sea. He didn't even remember the first one, but he had heard about it often enough over the years. Naomi, his mother, bundled him up in rags and dressed as a scullery maid to escape from her husband. She described his father as a cold, bitter man and that she had feared for their safety even in the rural areas of the Colonies. Thus, Blair never made direct acquaintance with Squire Sandburg.

The next voyage took him from his mother to the boarding school in England when he was a child. It was logical enough in retrospect. Squire Sandburg wouldn't think to look for him there. He would be looking for a mother and child. Blair could accept that as an adult, but at the time he was placed on board in the care of the captain, all he could think about was that he hadn't been studying hard enough with the tutor. Perhaps he had been daydreaming too much and had somehow failed his mother when she needed him.

But just as he had adjusted to their life on the run in the Colonies, Blair adjusted to boarding school. He was an avid reader and an insatiable researcher even as a young student. The personality he had developed to charm and enthrall the many strangers in his life came in handy with both teachers and students. Although he missed his mother terribly, Blair thrived with the opportunity to learn and the occasional letter from her.

At the time he was to graduate, Blair was elated to learn that his mother had re-married and was living in France. That was a short journey for him and would mean holidays from university together. Those faint hopes were dashed with the announcement of another sea voyage. The letter was delivered to him by the chancellor of the school himself. For a horrible moment, he thought his mother was dead, so solemn was the man's face. It was not the case, but there would be no visits any time soon.

Dearest Blair,

I know how much you were looking forward to seeing me and meeting the Count, but there is a pressing matter that you must attend to immediately. Your father has died in an accident on the plantation. I have been informed by his solicitor that you have inherited Fair Wind. My husband has impressed upon me the importance of you claiming your inheritance. It is not only because you were deprived of a normal childhood because of his cruelty. He owes you at least the plantation. But it is a vile place. I believe that you can change how such businesses are run and in some way make up for your father's actions. You bear his name. I want you to be proud of it.

Love, Naomi

There was no arguing with such a request. It was not only for his own good, but it was for the good of many other suffering souls. He thanked the chancellor and his teachers for all of their help and for making a home for him. Then, with a heavy heart, he set sail again. Perhaps, if he did well, he could please Naomi enough for a visit.

The voyage did not begin well. The first two days at sea were stormy and rough. Blair was restricted to his cabin. He had books to keep him occupied and he didn't really want to while away the time socializing with Lord Quince and his insipid wife. But the young man didn't like the way the ship would pitch from time to time. He didn't like not knowing if they were in any danger.

The skies cleared on the third day. Blair found himself gently roused from his cabin and in the company of the captain and Lord Quince for the midday meal. It was a singularly uncomfortable experience. The Lord kept looking at him with the same sort of hunger that he viewed the sweet meats on the table. It was an entirely new and quite unwelcome experience for the young man. He silently vowed to claim illness for the rest of the journey and remain in the safety of his cabin.

Blair had been confident that such a message would be respected. But shortly after his evening meal was sent, there was another rapping at the door. To his chagrin, the very drunken Lord pushed his way into the tiny space before Blair could say a word.

"There's no need to hide yerself away, lad," he slurred. "Ye cannot help what yer about. I'm very understanding."

"Leave this instant!" Blair exclaimed. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"You are a wanton thing, you are," he replied crowding the young man with his odorous girth. "A prettier man I've never seen, and a mouth made for sin."

Blair was incensed. "Get out you vile piece of filth. I want nothing from you."

"I find that hard to believe," Lord Quince moving closer. "A man like you can't help wanting pleasure. You were made for it. I can show you."

"You can leave this instant or the captain and your fine wife will hear of this," Blair nearly shouted.

That angered the sweaty beast but not enough to leave. Blair was beginning to feel ill with his nearness.

"I need to show you what kind of whore you are, boy," he said. "For your own good."

The Lord lunged at him, but even in that small space, Blair was able to keep from being pinned. He was too slight to overpower the man physically. So Blair had to improvise. He grabbed the heavy porcelain chamber pot and crashed on the drunk's bewigged head sending him onto the floor.

After a few deep breaths and some straightening of his clothing, Blair summoned a deck hand declaring that Lord Quince had mistaken his cabin in the dark, perhaps because of wine, and had fallen. It took three men to carry him out. No one troubled Blair for the rest of the journey.

There was no spark of memory for Blair as he rode from Port Royal to the home of his father. It was very beautiful and wonderfully warm after the aching cold dampness of winter in England. The air was scented with the gentle fragrance of exotic blossoms. It seemed that this would be a place that Blair could not forget, yet he had not a single memory of it.

The driver announced the beginning of the property that had belonged to Squire Sandburg. It seemed that they rode hours after that before he glimpsed the house perched on a rise overlooking the ocean. It was an elegantly designed single story home that sprawled over quite a bit of land. Beyond it were structures that looked like stables and barracks for the plantation workers. It was an impressive compound.

Garrett Kincaid awaited him at the front of the house with an assemblage of servants. His mother had talked often of the overseer who now managed the plantation for the estate. She had said that he was the perfect minion for his father. He enjoyed physically inflicting cruelty where Squire Sandburg merely philosophized about it. Blair squared his shoulders and set his expression. He was the heir of this estate. This man, however intimidating, was merely an employee. He hoped that he could firmly convey that attitude.

"Greetings, Squire Sandburg," Kincaid said with a smile. "Welcome to Fair Wind. My condolences for your loss."

"Thank you, sir," Blair replied. "It is very kind for you to meet me. I'm sure you are quite busy."

"Indeed, but it is my duty," he replied. "I'll have you settled in your rooms. Then, perhaps you'd like some food?"

Blair shook his head. He needed to assert his presence as soon as possible. "Thank you, but I would like my bags unpacked while I begin my tour of the facilities. I am quite rested from my voyage and feel a need to get started."

That surprised Kincaid. He seemed to be re-evaluating Blair.

"Very good, Sir," he replied. "I'll have your bags sent up and unpacked. And I'll select a horse for you."

While Kincaid was gone, Blair pulled out a wide brimmed hat and had a water skin filled. Soon, they were riding the perimeter of the estate. It was an impressive facility. The crops looked good. The storage structures were filled. It appeared to be a lucrative business. But what worried Blair was that every worker they met seemed to cringe upon seeing Kincaid. The overseers were heavily armed and had whips at the ready. Blair said nothing, but he took in everything.

It was late afternoon by the time they returned to the compound. The last part of the tour was the workers' quarters. In the courtyard of the worker's compound was a tall wooden post to which a large muscular man was chained. He was naked and he had been severely whipped. Some of the wounds were still oozing blood. What shook Blair most in the face of such barbarism was the man's pale blue eyes were open and vacant.

"Good Lord, what happened?" Blair demanded. He was off his horse and kneeling beside the beaten man before Kincaid could react.

"I was told that he was found in this trance-like state in the fields. My overseer tells me that he is a trouble maker -- always shirking off tasks," Kincaid said with disgust.

"It could be some sort of epilepsy. Do you have a doctor for the workers?" Blair asked.

Kincaid laughed before he could stop himself. Blair glared at him. "My pardon, Sir. But such coddling could result in a complete uprising."

"I see. Do you have someone to look after your horses and other animals?" Blair demanded quietly.

Kincaid reddened slightly. "Of course…but those animals are valuable…"

"More so than the men who fill all those storage buildings. Impressive display of business acumen, Sir," Blair replied softly so that only Kincaid could hear him. "Take this man down, immediately."

While the order was obeyed, Blair quickly peaked in the different rooms off the courtyard. He found an empty, dusty room with old furniture stored in it. He rounded up some house servants and had them clear and clean the room and set up some cots from the old furniture. Then he ordered buckets of hot water, cold water, mild soap, torn cloths and some breeches. Kincaid watched all this in amazement. When Blair finished with the instructions, he turned back to his host.

"I shan't keep you any longer, Sir," Blair said. "I know that your time is valuable."

"What are your plans here, sir?"

"I'm going to see to this man's injuries and find out why he is in such a state," he replied. "I may not be in for dinner."

Kincaid was speechless. He merely nodded then rode away.

"Carry him inside and lay him on his stomach," Blair said. "What is name?"

"James, sir."

"Thank you," Blair said to the man's surprise. "After that, I need you to have cook steep some tea with these herbs. I'll also need a bowl of hardy broth and two portions of whatever she's making for supper."

"Very good, sir."

The man named James had to be carried by three men into the room which was pleasant and airy once cleaned. He didn't react when he was placed on the cot. Blair had never seen such a vacant stare in a person whose heart still beat. James had a very handsome face. He wanted to see what kind of life played in such a beautiful crystal blue. Blair settled down on the cot next to the man. He soaked a cloth in hot water then soaped it generously.

"James. James. My name is Blair. I think you can hear me. I've been told that some epileptics can hear while in a seizure," Blair said in a soothing voice. "I'm going to wash all the dirt and sweat and blood away. It will make you feel better. Maybe it will help you wake up. I'm sorry to be so personal when we have not been introduced properly."

Blair began with James' hair soaping it then rinsing it with a soaked cloth. It was fine and soft. The rich brown was streaked with gold from the sun. It was jumbled and tangled. Though there was no comb at hand, Blair gently untangled it with his fingers then smoothed it back.

He cleaned the man's face gently. James had handsome features: a squared off jaw, high cheek bones, and a fine brow. The exposure to the sun had reddened his skin, but Blair didn't think it was severely burned. Though his classmates and instructors thought him a scientist, Blair had an appreciation of beauty. This man was quite beautiful. He was far and away the most appealing male that the young squire had ever seen. And that this beauty and strength was so vulnerable moved Blair and made him feel protective.

"Wake up, James," he continued as much for himself as for his patient. "You are quite safe now. No one will hurt you any further. Don't be afraid to come back to yourself."

The young man made his way down the large muscular body. He cleaned the amazing shoulders and corded arms. He marveled at the size of the man's hands and noted their grace and beauty. Blair understood how artist could be inspired to capture such perfection in stone or metal. All the while he continued to talk to the man. With infinite care, Blair cleaned the wounds.

"How could a man beat another human being like this?" Blair muttered quietly. "How could he think you were feigning this attack when you didn't respond to such brutality?"

Blair made a note to himself to find out who beat James and see that no longer work at Fair Wind . Meanwhile, he concentrated on the awful wounds soaking them until the clotted blood came away. Then, Blair soaked clean cloths in the herb steeped water and covered the welts.

"See, you should feel the pain slipping away. Those herbs help blunt the pain and begin healing. You must be feeling more comfortable now, James," Blair said quietly. "It's safe. Wake up for me. James."

The man beneath his hands jumped at the firmer call of his name. His eyes fluttered. Then he moaned and tried to move.

"Stay still," Blair said. "You're safe. I'm cleaning you up a bit. Do you understand?"

James nodded. "Wa…water…."

Blair let out an impatient sigh. "Forgive me, James. I can be thoughtless. Of course you're thirsty."

He soaked another clean cloth in cold water he had set aside for drinking. Then, he pressed the cloth to James' painfully dry lips.

"Just suck on the cloth to wet your mouth a little first," Blair said. "That's it. Now, I'll get a cup. But you must sip slowly and only what I give you for the moment."

James nodded. His eyes kept glancing over Blair with curiosity. He carefully raised his head a little so he could sip from the cup that Blair offered. All the while the man drank, his vivid eyes stayed on the young man's. There was a lot of life in those eyes and intelligence and all manner of emotions in that gaze. Blair wondered what James was thinking.

"That's good. Rest your head right now," Blair said. "I'm glad you're awake. I'll need you to turn on your side soon to finish cleaning you. Forgive my handling you so personally, but your whole body must be cleaned to prevent infection. I've done this many times tending to my classmates or my teachers when they fell ill."

"Who are…who are you?"

"Oh, for goodness sake. I am addle headed today. My name is Blair Sandburg."

"Sandburg?"

"My father owned this place. I haven't seen him since I was a very small boy," Blair explained as he sudsed James buttox and legs. "My mother felt I should come and claim my inheritance. Perhaps change how things are done here."

"Am I part of these changes?" James asked quietly.

"I suppose. Mainly, you were a man in need of help," Blair replied while deftly cleaning away the suds along those long legs. He quickly wiped in between those long limbs and even along the crease of that muscular behind chattering all the while and ignoring the blush that burned his flesh. "How long had you been there?"

"I don't know. What day is it?"

"'Tis Wednesday."

James shuddered slightly. "Since Monday afternoon."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure," James said. "I was in the cane fields listening to distant birds singing to one another. Then there was a loud blast. The cannon, I suppose. They usually ring it in the afternoon. The noise always bothers me, so I usually brace for it. But the birds were singing… I didn't hear or see anything else until you called me."

"An epilepsy to be sure," Blair murmured. "Perhaps caused by sounds."

James sighed heavily. "I've had this sort of trouble as long as I can remember. No one had ever been able to wake me before now. I usually have to come out of it on my own."

Blair shrugged smiling slightly. "I'm glad I can be useful. I wasn't sure what I was going to do here. Turn on your side. Which ever one feels stronger."

James slowly rolled up on his right side. Blair moved the dirty water outside and called for more hot water. He then soaped up some more cloths with the remaining wash water.

"It is not as hot as before," he said in apology while soaping the broad chest.

"It feels good. Better than I expected," James replied. "I smell food…"

"I sent for supper. I thought you might try the broth first. If you can hold that down, perhaps you could try the meal," Blair said.

"I'll hold it down if I have to sew my lips shut," James said. It seemed to Blair that he was scenting the air. "I haven't had a real meal in so long that I can't even remember."

"That's fine, then. But try the broth first anyway. It's good for you," Blair said. He was reaching the groin area with the soapy cloth. He needed his patient to be distracted from such handling. "What have they been feeding you?"

A grimace crossed the man's handsome features. "We make a stew of whatever meat scraps are thrown our way along with some root vegetables. We eat fruit, of course. That's probably kept us healthy. I haven't had chicken. Thank you…"

"Blair," the young man replied. He had gotten past the man's impressive organs and was onto the relative safety of his thighs. "I should think that I'm beyond formality."

"I couldn't call you by your given name in public," James said. Was there a sadness to his voice?

"In private then," Blair said drying him. "Roll on your stomach. I'll get your feet."

"And what do I do for you, Blair?" James said. "No one has ever tended to me thus."

A blush dusted the young man's cheeks. "How long have you been at Fair Wind?"

"Eighteen months," Jim murmured. "I'll be here quite a bit longer, I fear."

Blair did not want James to dwell on sadness. "You know the operations well, then?"

"Aye. I've seen a lot of how this place works," the man replied and even Blair could detect the irony in his voice.

"Mister Kincaid is a busy man and he has already grown tired of me. I'll be in need of a guide to show me the inner workings of Fair Wind," Blair said. "You'll help me immensely and have time to really mend."

James studied him carefully. Those bright blue eyes seemed to gaze into his very being. "It seems I am forever in debt to Sandburgs. This time I do not mind over much."

Blair smiled at the man holding his gaze so intently. "If you feel up to sitting, I think you should eat."

"I can sit."

Blair's heart lurched. He believed the man would walk over glass to eat that meal. He vowed to himself to look into the state of fare served to the men. He didn't see why they couldn't be allowed to keep their own chickens. James slowly moved to a sitting position. Blair rolled up one blanket and put it between James and the wall.

"Ease back onto that. Do not worry about the bandages sticking. I'll soak them again with the herb tea then loosen them," he said. Blair covered James's legs with the other blanket then brought over the tray.

"Your classmates must have been distraught with your departure," James observed as he sipped his broth.

"On most days, I suppose. But often I am a source of consternation," Blair replied. Damning the blush that would not leave his cheeks.

"Why?"

Blair shrugged. "I love to learn, but often it seems I'm learning things other than what the instructors were teaching. I'm often off in my own little world.."

Blair looked away annoyed with the plaintive sound in his voice. He had no right dwelling on himself in the face of this man's great suffering. James reached out to tilt his chin up.

"You learned how to do this on your own?" he asked indicating himself.

"Tend to the sick and wounded? Yes, I read of how."

"Then I am grateful for your wanderings," James said. "I've had my broth. Let us have the chicken."

Blair's stomach rumbled in response both men laughed. "That settles it."

They ate in silence, but it was a comfortable one. Blair would have chattered through the meal as he often did in school, but James was fully involved in the food in front of him. There was a look of utter bliss on his face as he consumed the meal. He ate rather quickly because of hunger, but Blair knew that the man was enjoying the meal on levels that his experience could not comprehend. Blair felt good about having helped him for it's own sake. But there was more somehow. He felt at ease with James. This man somehow saw him for who he was. Blair felt that somehow. And he accepted what he saw. For the first time in his life, Blair felt no need to dazzle and ingratiate.

"Thank you, Blair," James said when he finished the meal.

"You're quite welcome."

"I grow weary."

Blair took the tray away. "I have no doubt of that. Turn on your side. I'll move the blanket roll beneath you so you aren't lying flat on all that food. Then, I'll tend your back."

James was moved as he was bid. He sighed contentedly. "I bid you goodnight now, Blair. I cannot keep my eyes open."

"Close them then. They have been open too long," he said softly. "Goodnight, James."

Blair soaked the cloths again then loosened them where they stuck to the skin. He wished for a lighter muslin than the heavy cotton. He wanted air to get to the wound but didn't want to leave it exposed where insects may light upon it. If James didn't move during sleep, the cloth might stay in place. The patient did slip into sleep as Blair finished tucking him in the bed.

Dusk was falling when he left the workers' compound. He was in no mood to socialize with anyone in the main house. Thus, Blair slipped in the back way, ordered a bath and some tea brought to his room. He took a leisurely bath then read himself to sleep.

Chapter Two

Blair awoke just before dawn with the sounds of the plantation stirring to life. He dressed quickly in light, loosely fitting clothes. A quick scan of the closet yielded some of his father's clothes. He was taller than his son apparently, Blair mused, and quite a bit wider. It wouldn't be an exact fit for James. The pants would have to be tied at the waist. It would be good that the shirt was too big. That would allow the wounds to breathe. He bundled the clothing up then headed downstairs to face Kincaid.

He found the man at the dining room table mid-way through his breakfast. He seemed to be surprised to see Blair this early.

"I always wake up when there is movement around me," he said by way of explanation. He didn't admit that his early life of running from place to place in the dead of night kept him from sleeping while anyone was up and about.

"Good morning, Master Sandburg," Kincaid said stiffly.

"Good morning, sir," Blair said. "And let me begin the day with my heartfelt apologies for my behavior yesterday. I had no right coming directly off the boat and telling someone with your experience what he ought to be about."

Kincaid was rendered speechless again.

"It is one of my bigger faults, I'm afraid," Blair said. "I am here to learn and learn I shall. Can we start again?"

"Of course, Master Sandburg."

"Blair, please. I've not earned any formal titles."

Kincaid inclined his head. He seemed to relax considerably. "As you wish, Blair."

"Thank you. Now, I must impose upon your indulgence once more. I thought it prudent to have James show me about the cane fields today. It will keep me out of your way and it will make him get back to some sort of work."

The plantation manager considered this for a moment. "As bond slaves go, he's never been violent. I suppose you would be safe enough. Just make sure to keep in the sight of an overseer wherever possible. I'll tell them to keep an eye out for you."

"Thank you, Mister Kincaid. You've been most patient," Blair said. "I'll leave you to your meal."

Blair dashed through the kitchen ordering breakfast for him and James and more hot water and cloths. He was anxious to see his patient. For some reason, he needed reassurance that James was real and that he was on the mend.

He found James in the same position he'd left him. His eyes were open and he was looking at Blair with a small smile.

"Why did you apologize to Kincaid?"

Blair frowned at him. "You could hear me?"

James nodded. "Sometimes I can hear things farther away than that. I was listening for you."

Blair felt his heart lurch a little. "Why?"

"I was thinking that I'd have the pleasure of your company or that Kincaid's men would be coming to chain me back to that post," he said with a smile.

"That's why I apologized. Men like Kincaid do not like their pride trampled upon," Blair replied. "I did not want you to suffer because of what I said to him in anger."

"I am further in debt, it seems," James mused as Blair began to soak the bandages.

"You will repay it by helping me," Blair. "Don't trouble yourself so. Ah, these wounds are doing very well. Can you sit up?"

"Aye," James replied. "My muscles are stiff, but I haven't injured them."

Blair reached out to place his palm on James' forehead. "You're just a little warm. I wish you could rest another day."

"I've worked with worse injuries than this," he replied. "I'm doing fine."

"Good. Breakfast is coming soon."

"I can smell it. I didn't think it was for me," James said softly. "Eggs and meat… and fresh bread and butter…"

Blair was amazed as the cook's helper brought in the tray and that was exactly what was heaped upon it.

"You are a marvel to be sure, James," Blair said as they attacked the breakfast.

"I never thought so before. It's especially hard knowing what's being eaten just beyond your reach," James said quietly. He looked somber for a moment, then dug into his eggs.

Blair liked seeing contentment on that handsome face though he wasn't sure why. He wanted to keep that expression there.

"We'll work on that today, James. There's no reason for valued hands not to eat well," the young man said.

Jim considered him intently. He nodded. Blair was extremely annoyed to find himself blushing once again.

Once they finished eating, Blair pulled out the bundle he'd brought in.

"I found some clothes in my father's closet. The boots should fit well enough, but the rest will require some adjustments. I brought some ties," he said. "I'll go and give you some privacy."

James smiled at that. "I think we're beyond formality, Blair."

He thought his face would burn from the flames he felt. He did cast his eyes down as James rose from the bed.

"What is the problem with the scraps given the men for food other than they are mere scraps?" Blair said trying to focus on something other than the tall, lean body rustling through the clothes.

"They would be fine if they were not rotten. I believe they don't bring them out to the compound until they can no longer stand the smell," James replied.

"Maybe that's something I can fix," Blair said. "How well do you get along with the cook?"

Blair looked up to see the rueful smirk on his patient's face.

"I don't have your skill at diplomacy. I may have spoken out of turn with the woman and his son on occasion," James replied archly.

Blair chuckled at that. He noted that James had quite a sense of humor despite all he'd gone through. The big man also looked good in the clothes despite the size. Blair suddenly longed to know the person who existed before the bond slave.

"I'll go talk to the cook while you finish dressing."

Blair found the cook in the midst of preparing for the mid-day meal. Apparently, there were to be guests and she was not pleased at the short notice. Blair squared his shoulders and internally shook himself. The he put on his best smile.

"Hello," he ventured. "I wanted to thank you for such fine meals I've had these past days. And thank you for troubling to send them to the compound."

She seemed taken aback by that. Blair sensed an opening. He took note of the young man peering at him from behind his mother and of the growing pile of scraps about the room.

"I can see you have a lot to do with cooking for guests and keeping the place clean," Blair said. "You've shown me a kindness, to be sure."

"Aye, I have my hands full and there aren't many that the Squire or Master Kincaid allows in the house," she muttered. "I could use some help."

"Well, you've got this fine bright lad here. I'm sure he's ready to take on more work," Blair said. "He's practically a man now."

The woman beamed proudly.

"I'll bet he could keep his own routine of chores without you even saying a word. You knows how much she needs your, don't you, lad?" Blair asked.

"Aye."

"I'll bet you could get rid of these scraps every day and figure out which chickens are too old and tough for this house and send them on and still have time to help your Ma with these heavy pots," Blair said.

"I could if she let me."

"If I let him. It's all I can do to get him out of bed."

Blair smiled. "Ah, but that was when he was a mere child. He's a man now."

"Aye!" the lad exclaimed.

"Okay, you start acting like a man and I'll take you to the wharves to help me buy the fish," she said.

The boy's face lit up. The scraps were gone in the next few moments. The cook winked at him.

"I've never heard such blarney in me life, but it worked," she said. "Yer a witch, you are."

Blair gave her a bow and returned to James. The bond slave was smiling at him in wonder.

"You are a witch, Blair. I don't doubt there isn't anything you can't have," he said.

Blair smiled wistfully thinking for a moment about Naomi. "Oh, you'd be surprised. But enough about me. Let's get to work."

For the rest of that day and for the next seven days, James showed Blair the inner workings of Fair Wind plantation. They talked to representative workers in every level of the operation. Blair learned about how the land was cultivated and planted and harvested. He learned about how the cane was processed and taken to market. He learned about how the plantation was supplied with everything from tools to manpower. James seemed to know a lot about all of these elements. If he didn't know directly, he knew who to ask. Blair wondered if that was purely from observation or if his hearing came into play.

All the while, Blair was learning about James. It took time for even the few details that he gleaned to come out. At first, Blair believed that it was because James was a man of few words when not giving information on the plantation. Later, Blair realized that it pained his companion to talk about what he had lost. Eventually, Blair learned more about James beyond how much he owed. He learned about how the bond slave had assumed the debt of his ailing father giving up his budding shipping business and his freedom. There seemed be no regret in that decision as it gave his father a few months in relative comfort before the man died. Blair also discovered that the reputation that James had for trouble making was in defense of others he felt were being abused. When Blair pressed some of the overseers out of his companion's presence, he found that he was a hard worker.

But there were a lot of costs to the man for his work ethic even before he became a bond slave. James had had no sweethearts for long because of his business pursuits and his epilepsy. The man seemed so alone to Blair at times that it broke his heart. For the first time since his mother sent him to Jamaica, he was glad that his father left him that estate. There was something he could do about some of his companion's pain.

Friday morning found them on a bluff that overlooked the sea. Blair did not even ask what this beautiful place had to do with plantation business. He was merely happy to be in this wondrous man's company alone for a little while longer. Soon, even with the changes he had planned for James, everything would be different. There would be no more long days in only each other's company. Blair found himself wondering if he would see James' smile as often when they were forced back to a normal plantation routine.

From the place James stopped, they could see everything but were secluded from all eyes among the trees. The breeze was fresh and all was quiet. It almost felt as though they were alone. In response to Blair's inquisitive glance, James shrugged.

"I've come here from time to time for a few moments of peace," James said. "Occasionally, the overseers would send me as a messenger from the fields to the main house, because I'm a fast runner. This is very much like the view I had from the porch of my home."

The pain in those beautiful blue eyes was unbearable. He tried to change the subject.

"I am surprised at what I have learned here this week," Blair said. "This is a business that is well run and good for the local economy as well as profitable."

"What were you expecting?"

Blair shrugged. "Something innately evil, I suppose. I was taught that it is built on the backs of suffering for suffering alone."

"Aside from trading in human flesh, I can think of no business that is evil in and of itself," James said thoughtfully. "It is the way men choose to run them. Places like this could profit without the suffering. I think it's the absolute power over a man's life that makes some men inflict pain."

"Because they can?"

"Or they are trying to make up for something they lack," James replied. "I really don't know."

"Because you could never be such a man," Blair murmured before he could stop himself. This time, fortune smiled upon him, and the blush was obscured by the hair blowing in his face.

"How do you put up with that?"

"Pardon?"

"Those wild curls of yours," James said softly. Blair barely heard him over the wind and the surf below.

Then, those large elegant hands were in his hair, gently pulling it back to the nape of his neck. While he gathered the tresses, he pulled the young man against him.

"I have a better tie," he said next to Blair's ear. As he captured the hair, James sniffed at it. "It picks up the scent of the breeze."

"And anything not fastened down," Blair said in jest. He hoped that James could not pick up on how hard his heart was pounding.

"It's beautiful," he whispered. Those hands were holding his face tilting his gaze upward into James' intense blue eyes.

"James," Blair whispered.

"I don't know whether to damn or to praise you for making me feel anything again," he said quietly as his gaze roamed Blair's features hungrily. "For making me want anything or anyone again."

Blair swallowed hard to keep from moaning out loud. James' touch and the hunger in his words was maddening to him.

"I want, James," Blair said breathlessly. "Like I never have before."

"I am a slave, Blair," he muttered.

"You are mine, James," Blair replied. He had no idea where this boldness came from. It suddenly thrilled him to own such a powerful, graceful body. "Do as you will, please."

"Yes, Master Blair," James murmured lowering his head.

The kiss weakened the young man's knees. He found himself pressed against a tree with James' wonderful weight pressed against him as the man deepened the kiss compelling Blair to open his mouth and yield. Never had he felt what this man was making him feel. It was hot and wet and singed like lightning. He trembled with want. He needed to know what else was to come.

James ended the kiss. His lips brushed against Blair's forehead.

"I cannot take you like this," he said quietly as he nuzzled Blair's throat. "As much as I want to taste your skin and feel you against me, you deserve so much more that being bared and ravaged in the bushes."

Blair fought for breath. He fought for a coherent thought. "I-I shall free you of your debt."

James released him and stepped back. His expression grew hard and wary. "Because you want me?"

"Nay," Blair replied frantically. He was bereft from loss of that wonderful heat. "I was going to anyway. You're too bright and valuable to be in the cane fields. I fear that my favor may have endangered you there already. I had hoped that once free, you would help me make this a more humane place before… before you resumed your shipping business. I never thought…"

"You never thought what?"

"I never dared hope that you'd want me, too."

Blair was in those strong arms again. "Never doubt that. You are an angel. I have to protect your kind soul from harm. I would not leave."

The tenderness in James' eyes stole Blair's breath once again. It took him a moment to think clearly.

"Let's return to the compound. I will send the letter to the court documenting your freedom today. You will be living in the house tomorrow," Blair said.

James clutched the young man close to him for a moment. "I would dare not hope, but you do manage to get all you desire."

They shared one more sweet kiss then found their horses. James prevailed upon Blair to let him go to the next overseer to be escorted to the cane fields. They had been deft at not provoking Kincaid. James didn't want to do anything to delay or even ruin this chance.

By the time he reached the main house, Blair shared James' concerns. He knew the plantation manager had them watched during the week they spent together. James said that here were worried whispers about Blair finding out something that Kincaid was worried over. As much as the pair were looking into the business operations, they never found anything that was amiss. What mattered was that Kincaid felt he had something to worry about. That meant that his messenger couldn't be trusted. He decided to take the letters to Port Royal himself.

In the days that Blair had been at the main house, he had never sat at his father's desk. He didn't want to at that moment, but that was here all the seals and wax were kept. Blair pulled out some of the fine paper and quickly wrote out the necessary verbiage for the court to recognize James Ellison as a freed man. He signed it with his formal legal name then affixed the appropriate seal for his title. It was the first time he had ever done such a thing.

Blair then wrote a letter to his mother informing her as efficiently as possible on what he had found and what his plans were. He didn't mention James other than to say he had found a good friend and wise counsel with one of the bond slaves whom he'd just freed. On an impulse, he peeked into a mahogany box that was in the locked drawer where the seals were kept. There was some jewelry there. A handsome gold ring caught his attention. Though it was far too large for his fingers, Blair thought it would look good on James' hands.

Blair was on the road in an hour. The thought of being watched still concerned him, so he rode at a pace of someone with somewhere to go, but he was not in a great rush. The papers were filed with the court just past midday. And luck smiled upon the young man a little later when he managed to catch the next ship bound for France and was able to persuade the captain to take his letter.

It had been a highly productive afternoon. Even if Kincaid objected to his decision, it was already done legally. No longer would he have to listen to the distant sounds of the worker's compound at night and wonder if James was sleeping well. Even though the men were eating far better since the cook's son began actually doing his duties, Blair worried about the epilepsy. He found himself blushing at the notion of knowing how James would sleep in the house. They would still have to show some restraint, but Blair would now have more control over their privacy.

Chapter Three

Blair's good humor and optimism fled when he stepped around the main house from the stables. There on the veranda next to Kincaid stood Lord Quince festooned in all manner of satin finery and apparently without his wife.

"There you are, Blair," Kincaid said with an oily smile. "I grew concerned with your absence and the bond slave Ellison in the fields all afternoon."

"I was anxious to post a letter to my mother, the Countess de Canterville," Blair said. "She has had no word of whether or not I arrived safely. Good evening, Lord Quince."

"Good evening, sir. Why did you not say you were the new Lord of Fair Wind?" he asked.

"I barely believe it now," Blair replied. "Can we offer you our hospitality?"

"I would be delighted."

"And where is your charming wife?" Blair asked.

The Lord chuckled. "The dear woman badgers me endlessly to bring her here then is rendered prostrate from the heat."

"That's a pity," Kincaid said as they went inside. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Thank you. How about you, Squire?"

"I shall retire to my rooms for a moment and get the road dust off me," Blair replied. "I won't be long."

Blair tried to keep himself from panicking as he poured water into the wash basin. "It was just an evening meal," he chided himself. "I won't be alone with him and James will be living here tomorrow."

He winced. His Lordship would probably stay the night. He wouldn't be able to inform Kincaid without either drawing him aside or awaiting until the unwanted guest departed. It had to be done though. James would not be reporting back to the fields tomorrow.

The meal went well enough. The discussion was kept to the coming harvest and Port Royal gossip. Blair was relaxing. He would have one after dinner brandy, then go off to bed. The Lord was sure to sleep later than Kincaid was accustomed to rising. He would tell the Manager about James new status then.

"So, tell me, Squire," the Lord said. "How do you find Fair Wind?"

Blair sipped his drink thoughtfully. He wanted to be truthful but not insulting. "It is quite an impressive operation, and it is run with efficiency."

He raised his glass to Kincaid who nodded with a small smile.

"And what of your talks with all the workers? Master Kincaid tells me you have spoken with almost everyone here," the Lord continued. "Did you find any intrigues? Is anyone secretly in league with pirates, perhaps?"

Blair was startled. "What a fanciful mind you have, Lordship! I found that most everyone had barely anytime to talk to me. They indulged me purely because of my title, I'm sure. I'm afraid not every place on this island can be as interesting as Port Royal, isn't that right?" Blair asked of Kincaid.

"Oh, you would be surprised what people find time for even in the fields," the manager replied. "I've heard all manner of rumors that you will set all of the bond slaves free and burn the whole place down."

"I'd hardly burn down my inheritance after a week," Blair replied. "And I would have to look at the status of the men individually. That will take some time. I've made no firm plans regarding most of the bond slaves."

"But you have made decisions about some… or one," Kincaid said. "You're going to free Ellison."

Blair put down his brandy. There was a sudden change in the room. "I have freed him. The papers were filed this afternoon. And I know your concerns about laziness or uprisings and such concerns are well founded when dealing with the men who work here. I know that. But I also know that James Ellison is an honest, hard working man who has learned a lot about this place. I need him to help me become a more responsible squire. And to leave you free to do what is a most difficult job."

Blair had spoken from his heart and the pair of men were hard pressed to reply.

"I'm afraid that I am not fit company tonight," Blair said quietly. "Please, enjoy your brandies and your Lordship is welcome to our hospitality overnight."

Both men nodded as Blair left the drawing room. He started to go up to his room, but went out the door instead. A short while later, he found himself at the workers' compound. He told the guard to bring James Ellison out to him.

The bond slave looked concerned as he buttoned up his shirt and approached Blair.

"Come with me now, please," Blair said quietly.

"What has happened?"

"I cannot say now," Blair replied a little more desperately. "Come with me, please."

"Aye."

They left the guard in a state of confusion. James followed Blair to the beach. The young man said not one word during the long walk. Once they reached the shore, James reached out and took his quiet companion into his arms.

"Tell me what troubles you," he murmured.

"I don't know," Blair said quietly. "I was having dinner with Kincaid and that awful Lord Quince. It's my estate and my decisions, yet somehow they made me afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Of wanting change… of freeing you… of everything," Blair said miserably.

James tilted Blair's face up gently. "Why would freeing me make you afraid?"

"I don't know. I have this horrible feeling that I've done something to endanger you," he replied. "'Tis done anyway. I saw the papers registered myself. I came for you to move you in the main house this night. I would feel better knowing that you are away from the overseers."

"That's all?" James said smiling at him.

Blair shook his head slowly. "I wanted… I needed to be near you. Even if walls separated us."

"I'd like that. It will be easier to hear you sleep," James replied nuzzling at the slender exposed neck.

"You could hear me sleeping?"

James shook his head slowly. "I've imagined that I can."

Blair closed his eyes against the image of James in bed thinking about him. He slid his hands up those hard muscled arms to clasp behind James' neck. James released the face he was cradling to wrap his arms around Blair's waist and pull him even closer.

"Please, James," Blair whispered as he brushed his lips against the tall man. "Let's not wait for his Lordship to leave and Kincaid to be away and for all to be perfectly aligned. I want you, now."

James groaned against those lush lips. "You know I cannot refuse you. It was all I could do to step away from you this morning."

Blair caught that open mouth and ravaged it with his tongue. James moaned pressing his lover closer to do some ravaging of his own. He feasted on that mouth which had captivated his imagination all week. The world was spinning for the young Squire by the time James moved from his lips to taste the skin along his throat.

"I knew you would be delicious," James said huskily. He slipped the young man's jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. Blair moaned softly as he was gently bitten at the curve of his neck and shoulder. "Someday, I will taste every inch of this sweet flesh, but for now, I will give you what you need."

Blair felt his trousers loosened then he was gently lowered onto the soft foliage.

"For men to love properly takes more time and care than we have here," James said softly as he unbuttoned his shirt and removed his belt. "But there are ways to still share pleasure."

Blair barely got a glimpse of his lover's beautiful body before he was covered by it. He gasped as James aligned their erections then wrapped his arms around his waist and arched toward the hard heat pressing against him. James caught his mouth with the gasp and kissed him mercilessly.

Blair had been in heaven already, but then James moved against him and he soared beyond that. Everything in his universe was heat and hardness and that hot mouth. Something primal in Blair made him respond to the undulating rhythm in kind. It was amazing and it didn't last long enough. Blair cried out against his lover's mouth just before James groaned.

The rested for a moment with their foreheads against each other.

"That was wonderful," Blair whispered. The words were horribly inadequate. Never in his young life had Blair felt so close and so loved by anyone.

"It will get even better, Love," James murmured. "But that should hold us both until we have more time. Let's go back to the house."

Blair nodded. He really wanted to sleep in those beautiful arms, but he was satisfied with the incredible gift James had given him.

James cleaned them up and helped Blair straighten his clothes. By the time they found their way back to the house, it was nearly midnight. Both men knew something was very wrong when they found both Kincaid and Lord Quince waiting on the veranda with two of the overseers.

"What is going on, Kincaid?" Blair demanded with more confidence than he felt. It may have been James' presence beside him.

"You are an eloquent and passionate speaker, Squire Sandburg and I believe that all of your efforts here are exactly what they seem," Lord Quince said. "However, Kincaid and I also believe that since you and Mister Ellison are very honest men, and unlike your father who never cared what went on here other than profit. When you find out all that happens at Fair Wind, you will tell the authorities. We cannot afford that."

"I do not have any idea what you are talking about," Blair said. "What could possibly go on here that would concern the authorities."

"Never you mind," Kincaid sneered. "I'll give you a choice. Sign over this plantation and you and your precious bond slave can leave on the next ship out of Port Royal. Or I can have James here whipped to death as a runaway slave and let Lord Quince take you with him for a little fun before dumping you in the ocean."

"No!" James roared. He was immediately grabbed from behind by two other overseers who promptly beat him to the ground.

"Please! God, stop!" Blair cried. Kincaid signaled the men to stop but they still held James. "I'll do anything. Just don't hurt him."

"Blair!" James exclaimed.

"I never wanted anything from Squire Sandburg. I never wanted this place, James," Blair replied quietly. "It's not worth your life."

He followed the Lord and Kincaid into the study where he signed a prepared agreement without even reading it. He did not sign his full legal name though nor did he use the proper seal. Neither man noticed. The document was folded and sealed without inspection.

Blair followed them back out and was somewhat relieved when Kincaid ordered a carriage. Then he was grabbed from behind. The young Squire heard James struggling and shouting as he was bound at the wrists from behind and at the ankles. A gag was in place before he could plead for James' life. He was thrown into the carriage just before the Lord was helped aboard.

"Get us to Port Royal and don't interrupt me no matter what you may hear," the nobleman snarled.

"Goodbye, Blair," Kincaid called after them. "It was a pleasure knowing you."

Rage clamped down on any fear Blair may have felt. In struggling during the time he was being bound, his captors failed to really secure his wrists. He worked the rope free shortly after the were on the main road. Luckily, his Lordship's girth kept him from getting enough leverage to touch him while they were winding along the drive from the main house. As soon as the carriage cleared it, the nobleman was licking his lips in anticipation.

"A pity they tied your legs together, but no matter," he quipped. "I shall have a proper look at you at least then maybe take you with my cane just to let you know how it's going to be now. If you are very cooperative, I may keep you alive for quite some time."

The man reached for Blair's trousers. Blair slipped the final knot, grabbed the cane and clubbed his Lordship over the head stunning him. He removed the gag then secured it on the nobleman.

"I wouldn't call that living," Blair muttered as he freed his ankles. After tying the Lord up, he leapt from the carriage and rolled down the ditch next to the road. To his relief, the carriage kept going.

It took time for Blair to work his way back to the worker's compound. He had to make sure the night patrols did don't see him. All the while, the young Squire racked his brain as to how he could get help to free James. The other bond slaves hated Kincaid enough. Perhaps if he could get to them, he might be able to persuade them to take on the overseers even with their guns. He was certainly angry enough to try. They had far more incentive.

Before he reached the edge of the compound, Blair heard canon fire, gunfire and shouting. It was coming from the beach. He chanced a peek from behind a tree to see the all of the overseers and Kincaid rushing toward the main road away from the main house and the worker's compound. Blair heard shouts about pirates. His heart lifted. If he could get to James before the pirates got to the compound, they had a chance to get away.

But he was too late. Just as he reached the compound, Blair heard someone in the courtyard.

"If you want to live, tell me what you've done aboard a ship," the deep voice demanded.

James voice replied weakly. "I was a navigator."

"Fate smiles upon ye then. Welcome to the service of Red Lambert," the voice replied.

Blair peered around the corner to see a huge black man toss James over his shoulder and walk toward the shore. His love seemed to be conscious of his surroundings. The young Squire was beside himself. If he revealed his presence, he could be taken hostage and endanger James. He had to let them go and pray he could find him again.

"I will find you again," he whispered. Then said more loudly but only for James' ears. "I got away, Love. I will find you. Wait for me."

James raised his head for a second. The let it drop. Blair saw the tension drain from his beloved's body. He had heard. Blair turned toward the house where he quickly gathered the rest of his father's rings and the money from the wall safe. Hopefully that and a winning smile would buy him passage to Europe from Kingston.

Chapter Four

The next day found James seated on a bench in the crewman's quarters on board the Pelican. He is struggling to keep his arms up while Simon, the man who freed him, wrapped cloth bandages around his torso. Once it was finished, James slowly and painfully lowered his arms.

"That should keep you from opening yer back up every time you move," he said.

"Thanks."

"You seem to have a brain in yer head. We need as many of those as possible to stay alive," Simon said. "You do have a brain in your head, don't you?"

"Sometimes I wonder. I get notions that can't possibly come true," he muttered standing to put his shirt on.

"I don't think you can work the wheel like that."

James considered him. "You could help me."

"Me? I'm a gunner."

"The ship doesn't need a gunner now. And it should have more than one person who can navigate. All it takes is a brain in yer head," James said. "You do have a brain in yer head, don't you?"

Simon smiled. "You'd better get a sword from the hold. With that mouth, yer gonna need it."

Time passed quickly for James. Though his mind is never far from worrying over what happened to Blair, he found himself growing stronger in body and spirit without the oppression of slavery. He taught Simon how to use a sextant and Simon helped him sharpen his fencing skills.

Red Lambert was an animal. James knew that from the moment he laid eyes on him, and he did not look forward to raiding ships on his behalf. He thanked the heavens that Blair hadn't tried to follow when Simon took him away from Fair Wind. This was not a safe place for such a beautiful man. James knew he could handle himself though. Perhaps he could even keep them from unnecessary bloodshed.

James tried not to think about the words Blair whispered so desperately to him the night he was taken. He was relieved to know that the young man had escaped the odious Lord. But he hadn't a clue as to how Blair could ever find him let alone get him away from this pack of wolves. But if there were a way, his love would find it. Thus, James had to stay alive and wait for him.

Weeks later, Blair Sandburg was cold and wet and still not very pleased about his luck on sea voyages. He had an abysmal trip virtually confined to the ship's hold to avoid Kincaid and his Lordship's many minions in the Carribean. He couldn't risk showing himself to the crew until they were nearly in England. The captain took most of his money and gave him one meal and admonished the starving man for risking his hide with Kincaid. By the time he reached Paris, Blair was a sickly wreck. He pounded weakly on the door to the Villa de Canterville until someone opened it. Then, he fell inside and all went dark.

Somehow, Blair was warm and dry. He was dreaming that he was in James' arms in a soft bed. Those strong hands were stroking his hair. But the voice was all wrong.

"Blair, sweetie. You have to wake up," the soft feminine voice pleaded.

"James?"

"'Tis mother, sweetie. Wake-up."

"Naomi?" Blair asked opening one eye.

"Mother, sweetie. The Count likes his formality," she said. "What happened, child? I received a letter from you only yesterday telling me how wonderful everything was."

The dam burst for him then. He tried to remain calm and keep a level tone, but it was impossible. Along with the whole tale, all the anger, fear and sorrow came out in one burst that left him shaking and exhausted afterward. Naomi merely held on and rocked him the whole while.

"My Lord, Blair. I am so sorry that this happened to you," she murmured. "It's as though your father's evil still touches that place."

"What do we do about this?"

"We shall send my solicitor to the authorities and have that… that manager arrested," Naomi sputtered.

Blair brightened a little. "He may have been already. I didn't sign that document with my legal name. The court clerk will surely compare it to the one I filed on the same day. That may be enough to get the authorities involved."

"Very well. I shall have the solicitor here in the morning," she said resolutely. "You'll tell him everything then I will give him enough documentation and monies to seize Fair Wind and find this Mister Ellison."

Blair shook his head. "I must go back. I have to find him myself, Mother. I promised him."

"Oh, dear," she sighed. "I cannot begin to understand this attachment, but I've done so much to turn your life upside down over the years. And you've never asked for anything or complained."

"I knew the trouble we were always running from. I didn't want to make things more difficult," Blair whispered.

"You've been a wonderful son. I regret not knowing you better," she sighed. "I just wanted to keep you safe from that vile man. But now, it's time to help you find happiness."

Blair wanted to stay awake and start planning, but he couldn't fight off sleep. His eyelids were so heavy.

"That's it, sweetie. You rest. All of this must wait until you can travel," she said softly. "Goodnight."

He slipped into sleep wondering if James was well and safe.

Chapter Five

Three months later, Blair Sandburg's opinion of sea voyages had not changed. After surviving a near fatal fever and agonizingly slow recovery and the wait for word from the authorities, he found himself once again in a ship's smelly cargo hold. This time, he was tied to a pole and had not been fed in days. For the dozenth time, Blair tried to free his carefully bound wrists. All he succeeded in doing was digging the greasy rough hemp further into his raw skin. That worried him enough to make him cease the effort. He was convinced that the thick oily sludge could poison his blood. He was just as certain that breathing the carrion scented air would destroy his lungs.

The room was a horror of stench and squalor. It seemed to Blair that aside from himself, old meat and dead crewmen were stored there though he saw evidence of neither. He leaned his head on the pole they had tied his to and considered crying. Fatigue and hunger began to take over for despair and fear. The ship was finally quiet. Blair began to doze.

The sound of the sea drifted into his dreams. It was the crashing surf on the beach near his home. He could feel the cool wet sand between his toes. His temple was resting on James's hard muscled chest. The warmth radiated from his skin. He could feel it through the thin cotton shirt. He could feel the warmth on his back while his corded arms held his.

Blair looked up into James's face. His dark hair was awash in moonlight. The light highlighted his long lashes. He was lowering his heard to his upturned face. His lips were full and firm and soft. He knew how they felt. He could think of little else but how they felt. And he couldn't wait.

"Oh, James..." he breathed.

"James, well who be James?" A voice said.

Blair was startled awake. A scruffy man in dirty, greasy clothes stood before him. He couldn't tell what color his hair or beard was from the dirt matted in them. His body and his breath reeked from things that Blair couldn't begin to imagine.

"Who's James?"

"That, sir, is none of your concern?"

"None of my concern? I suppose feedin' you is none of my concern then, is it?" he sneered.

Blair felt his cheeks burning. "Please, I haven't eaten for near three days."

"My deepest apologies, Sir. Seems we got preoccupied with drinkin' and wenchin' and forgot you was here," the man said. Blair winced at his sarcasm. "Who's James?"

"He was... he was one of my father's bond slaves, James Ellison, if you must know," Blair said angrily. He was beginning to feel weak and queasy from hunger.

"James Ellison... James... the Panther. Your James is the Panther, and I'll wager that you're the reason that Red Lambert is dead."

"What on Earth are you talking about?"

"Never you mind, laddie, but the Captain will be please to hear of it," he said.

"What's to become of me? Ransom?"

"Nah... too risky, seein' how we just burnt down half o' Port Royal. A beauty like you will fetch a high price at auction on Tortuga."

Tears stung at his eyes and washed away his pride. "Please, sir... you cannot... I'd be of no use that way. I've n-never known a man... My family would pay whatever you asked."

He touched his under his chin and looked into his wet dark eyes. "You are an innocent. Do you know what a man would pay for a chance at a white virgin," he said then cut the ropes. "Eat. And stay quiet. Sometimes, we can't control the men."

When the door locked, Blair picked up the covered bucket and made himself very small in a relatively uncluttered corner of a room. He lifted the cover and sniffed the contents. It was not sour or foul. There was a piece of cold meat; a piece of cheese, and hard bread.

"Not mother's mansion, but not as bad as I thought," he said. "That man was wrong. He was just trying to break my spirit. James is not a killer... certainly not a Panther."

The Countess had cautioned his during their last lovely meal, that a village girl or a wounded ego would be his biggest obstacle to James's heart.

"My darling, you were parted under extreme circumstances. There is no telling what has happened to him since. He may sulk his way into the arms of the nearest serving wench," she had said.

Blair remembered looking at his mother in abject despair. Naomi de Canterville would have no such obstacles. He had his mother's thick, dark curly mahogany colored hair, alabaster skin and large dark blue eyes, but not her boundless confidence.

"How do I get through that?" Blair realized. "How can I win back his heart?"

"It's cliché, but be yourself. No one can resist for long, my dear. And for other obstacles," Naomi said with a wave of her heavily jeweled hand. His manservant brought fourth a large velvet jewel box which he opened before his. Inside was a dazzling array of diamonds and emeralds.

"Take the emeralds and my solicitor, and find him," he said. "Everything else will work out from there."

"Mother, this is too much!"

"I haven't been there for you, my child," she said. Her smile began to quiver. "I, too, need to make a grand gesture -- for love alone."

They cried then. Blair was so happy to have had the time to be with his mother. He learned a lot about himself then.

Blair almost laughed at himself. He had stood on deck as it entered Port Royal with what he thought was the answer to his dreams. Then city was on fire and within an hour, the solicitor was floating away on a launch and dirty, smelly pirates had him and his mother's emeralds.

Blair prayed as he ate in his little corner, that he was indeed, as strong as his mother.

Chapter Six

The Panther's mood was as foul as his reputation as he stalked through the main square of Tortuga. He disliked being in that place. It brought out the worst traits in him and his crew. They had scattered as soon as the ship landed heading for their favorite taverns or brothels. There would be fights on the ship later on that night.

James sat on a barrel next to the cook to wait for the ship's supplies to arrive. He had had his fill of those places. He'd rather tend to his ship and return to his quarters. Beneath the sky and the gentle, salt scented breeze crackled violence. It threatened to surface with any wrong word or any extra sip of wine.

Red Lambert had said the wrong word after James had been sipping wine all day about four months ago. He had managed to avoid the man's company most of the time on board the Pelican. Everything about his captain turned his stomach from his rampant ignorance to his bloodlust. But James had shared some of that very bloodlust during the raids especially of those parties allied with Garrett Kincaid. It was very satisfying to take from the disgraced manager's spoils while his bed and his heart remained empty. His own anger had led him to the tavern to drink with Red Lambert.

"Harlot is what I said, boyo," Lambert had slurred. "I ain't never met a harlot worth a whippin'."

James's blood still boiled at that word. He had slammed down the bottle. "He was no harlot. He was more pure than any woman I've ever known. More pure than the trash that whelped you!"

James was grateful for the crushing blow that rocked his head back. It released a fury in him that had been building by leaps and bounds since the night he was ripped from Blair's side. When Lambert struck, James was not chained to a post. He was not expected to beg for mercy from a man who had none.

That time, he could fight and did. He was like an enraged panther. Red Lambert became the embodiment of Garrett Kincaid laughing at him, humiliating him, torturing him. When the red glare cleared from James's eyes, he had choked the life from his captain.

James shook his head once again. He remained dismayed by his actions. He was still frightened by them and the ones that followed. Violence and rage were becoming a part of him. There seemed to be no help for it. The crew didn't care. They made him Captain.

"I told you I'd have my own ship again, Blair," he muttered. "I wonder if you'd be proud of me. I wonder if you even think of me at all."

The vendors were soon set up on the square, and James lost his mute companion. "And get some fruit for God's sake," he shouted at the large retreating back. "Haven't you ever heard of scurvy?"

A loud, ugly crowd was gathering at the auction platform. The selling of flesh would soon begin and this James could not bear. The men and women who willingly plied their trades on Tortuga were often difficult to watch, but to see innocents sold was a cruelty beyond his comprehension.

"Gather 'round, ye bastards! I've got a treasure for you this day. From Port Royal, we have a beautiful young virgin white lad," the hawker called. "The same beauty that cost Red Lambert his life on this very isle and cost the Panther half the flesh from his strong young back."

James was frozen on his perch -- unable, unwilling to move. He heard the blood hammering in his skull and felt the breath sucked from his lungs. "Could it be him... here?"

They could easily be lying. The story was well known in the buccaneer trade. Speculation was rampant over what the charms Blair Sandburg must possess to inspire such madness, especially amongst the harlots, for James would bed no women. The man could be an imposter. He prayed he would be.

James's hopes sunk immediately when he saw his hair. The thick dark waves had grown since they were parted. His hair now hung heavily to well past his shoulders. He could only imagine how it would look flying behind his on that half wild stallion he rode down the beach.

Blair stumbled onto the platform. When Nelligan, from the cursed ship Carrion, straightened him up, he was favoring one foot. He seemed weak or ill. James knew the crewmen who had held him. He could not think of how he may have been treated or he would be unable to save him.

"Let the bidding begin at 500 pieces of eight," the hawker called. "He's got a fine, strong body and big beautiful eyes. They be spittin' fire at me this minute. He'll be a pleasure to break, to be sure."

"One thousand pieces of eight, "O'Hara, the whoremaster laughed. "I'll make three times that from those who want to know the man behind the tales."

"Fifteen hundred pieces of eight," James shouted. The spectators howled as he fought his was to the foot of the platform. He could feel Blair's eyes upon him, but he would not look at him. He didn't want his to see the murder he knew showed in his eyes.

"The Panther himself has come to claim his love," the hawker said. "Do I hear two thousand?"

"Two thousand," O'Hara said. "I'll let you visit him, Panther."

"Twenty-five hundred," James snarled. Blair started at the ferocity of his tone. "And something more valuable to you for your loss."

"What?" O'Hara laughed. "The Pelican itself? You've nothing else to give."

"You interfere in matters that are not your concern, whoremaster," James spat out each word as if talking to the man soiled him. "That man's family has cost me much. It's my right to claim his as hostage for his crimes against me."

"What will you give me, Panther, to stop bidding?" O'Hara demanded. "That man could make me a fortune."

James leaped unto the platform with his sword drawn. "I give you your life, whoremaster. I advise you to take it." His voice was quiet and deadly calm.

The crowd roared as O'Hara backed down and lumbered away. James turned on the hawker and the two men holding Blair.

"Follow me to my ship to collect your money," he said sheathing his blade. "Step away from Squire Sandburg."

James finally looked into Blair's eyes. He had never seen them look at him with terror. As he drew near, his love began to tremble violently. Blair crumpled into James' arms as he reached him. The crowd cheered as James swept him into his arms and carried him away.

Chapter Seven

Blair was running down his beloved stretch of beach, but there was fear pounding in his heart -- not joy. The deep sand was slowing his escape. He was growing slower with each stride. His legs didn't seem long enough to carry him faster. The pirates were chasing him -- the ones that had sold him -- and Kincaid was chasing him waving manacles. He was looking at his pursuers when he ran into James. He was smiling at him as he held him close, but then there was that look in his eyes. The rage that deadened the warmth he'd always found there.

"I've lost a lot because of you, lad," he said with an angry, twisted version of his sweet smile. "I'll get a fine price for you..."

"James... please," he gasped aloud.

Blair was lying on a bunk built into the wall of a very small cabin. The captain's cabin boy on the Tern had such a room on the ship that brought him back to Port Royal. This room was very clean. The floor smelled faintly of lye soap. There were two trunks stored beneath the bunk. Blair was covered with a coarse linen sheet and a wool blanket. A wash basin, pitcher and towel sat on a shelf next to the bunk. A clean shirt and pantaloons hung on a peg next to the shelf.

Blair almost let out a moan when he found that the water was very warm. There was a small piece of scented soap and a comb beneath the towel. It had been nearly a week since his skin had touched water. Perhaps, Blair thought sniffing about delicately, James had noticed as well.

Whatever the reason, he did not hesitate. He stripped down and washed as quickly as his trembling hands would allow. The shirt smelled of scented soap and felt cool against his skin. Blair put on the pantaloons that surprised him with their close fit. His hair was an amazingly tangled mess. He nearly exhausted himself with the effort of getting a comb through. It was a relief that no vermin crawled out of the tangles. Eventually, he managed to get in into a ponytail to prevent it from tangling anew.

A short while later, a door opened in the room just beyond him. Blair surmised that it was the door to the captain's cabin. He sat on the bunk facing the open portal breathing deeply from the glorious dusk breeze. Not since that pirate cannon fire splintered the hull of the ship that brought him back to Port Royal, had Blair been so afraid. It had never occurred to him that James would be so angry. Never had he seen such fury in that beautiful man.

The door to his room didn't open, but he could hear voices just beyond it.

"You take moren' half our booty to buy a slip of a lad when there's an island full of women eager to sleep with you for the price of an ale," a voice said. "Have ye gone daft, man?"

"This is not your affair, Lash. This is between me and his family!" James said in much the same tone as at the auction.

"Ye know the rules of the brotherhood, Panther, the treasure belongs to the ship," Lash said. "Yonder lad is part of the treasure now."

"Aye, that I know," James said more quietly. "I plan to ransom his to his family for ten times what was paid. First, I mean to torture them with the knowledge that I have him."

"You plan to sail into Port Royal?"

"Don't be daft," was the reply. "The British fleet is no doubt plying the area looking for the Carrion. Nelligan was a fool to attack the harbor."

"What is the plan, then?"

"I'll get word to the mother or whoever controls Sandburg's estate," James said. "We've always done well about Tortuga with our trade. We'll stay in the region."

"Aye, the men will be near their amusements..."

"Keep in mind that Master Sandburg is not an amusement," James said.

"For any of us, Captain. He's ship's property."

"For any of us," James said. His voice seemed tired.

Blair heard them approaching the door. "At least let me have a look at this beauty."

The door swung open and the men stepped inside. Blair kept his place with his eyes on the portal.

"Stand," James said. His voice was expressionless, but Blair felt that defiance might imperil him. He rose and faced them. "This is Lash MacDougal, my first mate. Lash, Blair Sandburg."

He glanced up at the men briefly and inclined his head. James looked bone tired. His mate looked somewhat cleaner than the men from that pirate ship, but he was of the same ilk. He did not like the glint of lust in his narrow dark eyes. He also sensed an uneasiness between the men that caused his to wonder about his safety and James'.

"I will speak to Squire Sandburg, now," James said. "I have waited a long time... it is my right."

"Mind your vow, Captain."

"Aye."

Blair squared his shoulders and raised his eyes. Naomi De Canterville would not swoon with fright even though she may want to; he would fight with dignity and honor.

"Thank you for my toilette, thought I found the reason somewhat insulting."

James smiled despite himself. His eyes began to warm. Or did Blair just hope they did? His skin had bronzed so deeply it made them more disturbingly blue. His hair had grown long and seemed to be highlighted with an inner light.

"I know I'd said you had the wild streak of a buccaneer, but you didn't have to become one," he said while trying to quell his quivering insides.

"'Twas not my will, lad," he said. He looked so weary. It was if something had been drained from him that afternoon. "Seems like my life has been beyond my will since I lost my ship to that bastard money lender." James leaned on the door jamb and closed his eyes.

"It seemed we are both doomed to pay our father's debts," Blair said softly. "James, may I sit down? My legs are still weak from being bound."

He looked up immediately. "Of course... did they... harm you, Blair?"

Tears sprang to his eyes when he heard the tender use of that name.

"They poisoned my lungs with foul air, 'twas all," he said. "Loneliness and fear near drove me mad... I don't know if I shall ever be without those feelings... do you, James?"

"Lose not your fear, lad. It'll keep you alert and alive. Lose not your loneliness... hope can be crushed by relentless cruelty," he said.

"I told you I would find you. I know what happened to Kincaid. And I had money and jewels and Mother's solicitor when I came back to Port Royal for you."

"Enough!" He said with renewed anger. "Your father thought me thick headed, but I have finally learned what cannot be."

"What do you mean?"

"You must go back, Blair. As soon as you can," James said. "I have doomed myself by my actions. I cannot condemn you to this fate."

Blair was horrified by the statement and angered by James's certainty of it "No, James, we are not without hope. Once the ransom is paid."

"Enough! You will listen and you will obey and perhaps leave this vessel untouched," he said curtly. "Beginning tomorrow, you will help prepare the meals and tend to my cabin. When you need to speak to me you will stand to one side of me until I give permission. I will secure you suitable clothes. This will be your station until the ransom demand is answered. Do you understand?"

"I do," he said stiffly.

"Does your ankle need tending?"

"Yes, I believe it does."

"I shall send someone."

James turned to leave. Blair couldn't let him go like this.

"James!"

He turned hesitantly.

"James, please!"

Without another word or glance, James left. He locked the door behind him. Blair began to sob uncontrollably into the rough blanket. It was the first time he had allowed himself tears since the ordeal began. The tears flowed as much for James as for himself. He had prepared himself for his heart belonging to another, but not for his heart hardening against all humanity. How could he stand to be near him and not enjoy his smile or his touch...

He was pulled from that emotional state by Simon's entrance into the cabin. The man dwarfed Blair and barely fit in the room, yet he was not afraid.

"I'm Simon. Which ankle?"

"The left. I-I do not think it broken."

"No," Simon replied. "'Twas bound too tightly for too long. The blood was cut off.

Blair gasped as Simon began to massage the bruised flesh.

"Simon, does the Captain have a lover?"

"The Panther touches no one," Simon replied. "Keep still. I'm going to wrap this for support."

"I thought there must be, he was so cruel."

"Did he hit you?"

"No, of course not."

"The water was quite hot, was it not?"

"Well, yes."

"He has to get that for himself. The cook won't do it," he said. "And you wear one of his best shirts. How was he cruel?"

"He didn't even try to touch me. It's been many months -- he didn't even know if he would see me again," Blair murmured. "He didn't even try to touch me. I wanted so much to touch him."

"As the Panther treats you, so shall the crew. It is their right," Simon said. "You are ship's property."

"Even Lash."

"He'd be the first."

Blair was stricken. Then resigned and sad.

"All done, Squire Sandburg."

"I'm Blair. Just Blair, the cook's helper."

"Stay off the foot, Blair. Someone will see to your needs."

"Thank you, Simon."

Blair had to be sure. He had to find a way to make James express his feelings without endangering his safety -- and his command of those animals.

James was brooding on the quarterdeck when Simon came out of his quarters. He barely glanced back as the gunner settled beside him.

"How is he?"

"The ankle will be fine with a little rest," Simon replied. "He's exhausted. A day... maybe two."

"How is he?"

"He's confused and afraid -- for you," Simon replied. "Causing him pain will kill you long before you get the ransom."

"I cannot allow myself my sanity is at stake," he replied. "He was taken coming to find me -- to help me. How am I supposed to face that knowing that I have to let him go?"

"You are a soothsayer, then?"

"Simon!"

"I've said my peace, martyr "

James remained on watch through most of the night until Simon relieved him. Lash never turned up, but he didn't care. He had to be exhausted to feel confident that he could bed down so close to Blair and not have him. He hoped the lad would be asleep and he was. James drifted to slumber to the soft sounds of his love's breathing and his strong heartbeat.

Chapter Eight

James slept soundly to the rhythm of his beloved's heartbeat and the sounds of steady breathing. Occasionally, he heard his name sighed in his love's sleep. He smiled in his. At dawn, the sounds of the port wakened him. There was hardly any stirring on his own ship. James grimaced at the thought of how many of them were probable laying about the pubs still drunk or injured from a fight. It was just as well, he supposed. The fewer of them about, the less he had to worry about his captive.

James stretched out his hearing to the little room. Blair was still deeply asleep. That was good, too. He would have the time to assemble what the young man would need that day. It took over an hour to fetch everything, but Blair was still asleep when James very quietly opened the door and slipped inside. What he saw took his breath away.

Blair was sleeping on his side. One arm supported his head. His hair was spread over the pillow. The other arm rested at his waist. James was certain that the young man was nude. He wore no shirt and the blanket dipped so low in the back that it revealed the curve of his spine and a tantalizing glimpse of his buttox. Blair was angelic in sleep. His long, thick lashes rested on his cheeks. His lips were parted. He looked very sweet and peaceful.

As much as James treasured that one intimate encounter and how it sustained him throughout all this insanity, he really wished at that moment that he didn't know exactly how good Blair's lips felt and tasted. He really wished his didn't know how that warm skin felt against his own and how intensely the young man responded to his touch. Knowing what he knew and seeing this vision before him tempted almost beyond endurance.

James focused on the tasked at hand. After tidying up the room and emptying the basins from the night before, James brought in a large bucket of hot water next to the dressing stand. He left more clothing and some other items that Blair might like on top of the garments. Finally, he brought in a tray of food and a pot of tea.

Blair sighed in his sleep. James watched him as he stretched languidly then opened his eyes.

"Good morning," James said despite his promises to himself not to say anything.

"Good morning," Blair smiled. "You look well."

"I feel well. How do you feel?"

Blair winced. "Stiff. Sore."

"You will rest today. Work on board is very difficult. You'll need the time," James said. "I must keep you locked in here. I don't trust any of my men save for Simon. They may get a notion to sell you to O'Hara."

Blair looked horrified at that.

"Don't worry. You're safe enough in here," James said. "No one else has a key to this door. Knock if you need anything. I'll hear you."

"I know," Blair smiled. "Thank you for all this."

"Just get stronger, Blair," James said softly. "I'll look in on your later."

Blair stretched with a sigh. He was hopeful once more. James' eyes were soft and warm upon him. He had the feeling that the bigger man had been was waiting for him to awaken. Then, his stomach grumbled.

When Blair moved to get off the bunk, he was glad that he chose not to fight James about resting. His body felt battered, and all of his joints were stiff.

"I should wash while the water is hot," he decided. Besides, he felt safer in clothing.

It didn't take long for the truncated absolutions. Once again, Blair wet his hair enough to get a comb through it, but he wondered if James kept a bathtub on board so he could give the unruly mop a proper scrubbing. There must be one, Blair decided. James looked very clean while most of his crew did not.

The tea was strong and still warm when the young man got to his tray. He relished that and the rest of the meal that consisted of a heavy bread, a large piece of cheese and some smoked meat. It was tasty and Blair ate all of it. Among the items that had been piled on the new sets of clothing, James left some books.

"Oh, James, you do care about me," he murmured.

The day passed with surprising speed. Breakfast made Blair sleepy. He fell asleep not long into the tome he was reading. The slumber was so deep that he didn't even hear whoever brought in his mid-day meal. The tray was full and the tea pot was warm when his mind cleared. The same happened after the second tray of food was consumed. Blair slept soundly until nearly dusk. The touches on his ankle startled him awake.

"Shhhh, Blair," James said quietly. "I need to check your ankle."

"Where... where is everyone?"

"Don't worry," James smiled. "Most of the crew is on Tortuga wasting their share of the last run. That includes Lash. And Simon is on my quarterdeck keeping watch."

Blair relaxed while James worked. He gently felt the bruised areas then he massaged and manipulated the ankle. It didn't hurt. The manipulation actually made it feel better. James wrapped it once more.

"You'll be able to walk on it tomorrow, but you should not take on too much," James said.

"I'll try not to," Blair replied.

"You will. There is Billy and the Cook to take the load," James said firmly. "I've brought more food. I'll be on watch until late."

"Can't I come and stand watch with you?"

James smiled a small smile. "I know you've been cooped up here all day, but you still look exhausted despite the rest. You will sleep through the night."

To his chagrin, Blair yawned. James chuckled.

"All right, I will rest," Blair said. "I just don't want the men to think I'm some feinting nobleman."

"You'll prove yourself when you are ready," James said.

"Aye, Captain," Blair replied tartly.

Jim smirked at that. He looked inclined for more, but rose to leave. "Goodnight, Blair."

Chapter Nine

When James awoke, the red light of dawn filled his cabin. He stretched languidly realizing that he wasn't troubled by nightmares. A restful, calm feeling filled him for the first time in a long while. Despite potentially explosive problems, he had an anticipation in that new day. He found himself impatient to see how it would unfold.

But there were reminders of where he was and what he and Blair faced even at that hour of a serene morning. He could hear and smell Lash crossing the quarterdeck headed for the cabin. James was out of bed and at the door sword in hand before the man could bang on it.

"I hope that if you were about to wake me that there's something amiss," James said with quiet menace.

"I'll say there's something amiss. That lad isn't in the galley," Lash said. He reeked of stale beer and bodily fluids that James did not want to think about. "I was wondering what he was doing."

"If you bothered to report for watch these past days, you'd know he was mending his ankle," James replied. "No one has made off with any ship's property, if you're interested in knowing."

"Bullocks," Lash sneered. "We're in port. Why do we have to be on watch?"

"Nelligan, maybe or any of Kincaid's ships that may put in," James said. "Or have you forgotten how Lambert lost half the ship's bounty on Hispaniola?"

Lash gaped at him. James shook his head and turned inside. He unlocked the cabin boy's door knowing that Blair had been awake for some time. He was dressed and the cabin was neat. Blair stood but kept his eyes down.

"I'll be taking you to the galley to begin working," James said.

Blair nodded then looked up at him.

"You may speak."

"Captain, I may ask for certain items to properly provision the ship," he said calmly. "Nelligan's food was barely edible, and I've noted a lack of variety here."

"Your suggestions would be appreciated," James said with some irony in his tone.

Lash snorted. "I'll say. We almost strung the cook up on our last time out."

James led Blair out onto the deck. Lash follows behind them.

"Later today, I'll need you to write the letter for the ransom," he said quietly. "I'll also need a lock of your hair."

Blair nodded but said nothing. It was clear to James that the young man was uncomfortable with Lash. He didn't blame him.

The galley was a dark and dingy place. A young, thin lad was at the stove bleakly staring into a pot. Blair led the way inside. His face was grim.

"Billy, where's the Cook?" James demanded.

"He's sleepin' Capt'n."

"Wake him," James said in annoyance.

Blair looked up at him.

"Yes, Blair?"

"I'll handle it from here, Captain," he replied. "We'll wake the cook once we've gotten started."

"Started what, sir?"

"I'm not a sir. I'm Blair. Put on all the pots of water you can to boil. Then get more water," Blair said. "We're going to clean this sty. Do you think the Cook will mind?"

"If he does, I'll have him flogged," James replied drily. "I'll be in my cabin when you have that list."

"I'll be there after I've had a chance to inspect."

"Lash, if I can interest you in ship's business," James said.

Lash was sputtering as they returned to the captain's cabin.

"Yer gonna let him take over like that?"

"Blair was winding Kincaid's whole staff around his little finger within a few days of arriving there," James said. "He could be running this ship before long."

"Can he cook, too?"

"I don't doubt it."

Blair inspected the larder and was horrified by it. Billy put the pots on and had the fires blazing by the time he finishes his tour.

"That's great, Billy," he said. "Wake the Cook then start clearing out the furniture. Put everything on deck. I'll be back to help scrub."

"Aye, aye!"

Blair quickly retraced his steps back to James' cabin. He tried to feel confident, but the crew worried him. Simon came on deck.

"Mornin' Blair. The Captain must be awake."

"Aye, but he didn't get a lot of sleep. He had watch 'till late then Lash woke him."

Simon sighed. "Why we don't throw him over board, I don't know."

"Can you make him sleep? He has a sort of epilepsy that may be aggravated by exhaustion," Blair said very quietly. "I'll be safe enough in the galley with you on duty."

"I've seen it," he replied. "I'll be about watching. The Captain will not sleep until you are locked away safely."

Blair sighed then nodded. Simon followed him into the cabin.

"I see, Lash, that you turn up once night watch is over," the large man remarked.

"I'm here when it counts."

Simon snorted at the man. Blair approached the desk. James moved to one side but didn't leave his chair. Without a word or eye contact, Blair quickly wrote a list while James quelled the growing argument between Lash and Simon. Somehow, he managed to keep his hand steady despite being near enough to James to touch him. He could feel the heat radiating from the man's powerful body despite the clothes they both wore. He then stepped aside and waited for James to acknowledge it. Blair only looked up when James picked up the paper.

"I'll get these items while Lash and I find a captain to take the letter to the Countess," James said. "Remain in the galley until I return."

"Don't worry," Blair replied. "I may be there until dusk with all the cleaning that need to be done."

Blair left. He suddenly needed distance between himself and James. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Simon had exited the Cabin as well and was taking up his position on deck. Blair relaxed then turned his attention to work.

Chapter Ten

Though it was well before noon, the main tavern on Tortuga was already busy. James and Lash found the local wenches enthralled by a tale being told by Henri Brown, navigator for the Riptide, a merchant ship that carried supplies from legitimate ports to Tortuga and thus traveled in two worlds, and the very man they were seeking.

"I swear half the British fleet is crawling over the Jamaican coast. Damn that Nelligan and Kincaid, too," he said irritably. "He'll get us flushed out of here, yet."

"Do they know of Squire Sandburg?"

"Aye. A fancy London Solicitor is raisin' bloody hell about the lad and some jewels," Brown replied. "His mum is some kind of French countess."

"A countess for a mum and him the Squire of all that land," Lash said with a leer. "You may be the smart one after all, Capt'n."

"If the estate won't recognize Blair's request, his mother will," James said. "She'd never risk her son's life."

"I drink to ye then, Panther," Lash said. "I thought the lad's beauty had driven ye mad."

"I won't do anything to get my own throat cut," James replied then added for his companion: "Besides, I want to be rich enough to never be a slave again."

"Here, here!" Lash said.

"Henri, would you bring Rafe to my ship tonight? I'll have the message ready for him to deliver," James said.

Lash began to celebrate in earnest. James had one toast on his empty stomach, and that was enough. He slipped out of the tavern to do his shopping for Blair at the first opportunity. The list wasn't that long, nor was it complex, but it took until well past noon to find all of the items with any kind of either quantity or quality. By the time he reached the ship with the bearers in tow, it was mid afternoon.

James found Blair, Billy and the Cook peeling potatoes and drinking wine. Blair was wearing a kerchief and the Cook's large stained apron. All three were laughing when entered and the Captain was startled not only by the comradery of the men but by the amazing cleanliness of the galley. For the first time since he had been brought to the ship, James didn't fight gagging upon entering the room.

"What's that I smell?" James asked. "It's wonderful."

"Mutton stew," Blair said. "Just need some more potatoes and onions."

"'Tis all here… all you asked for," the Captain replied absently. "I smell something else…"

"Biscuits!" Billy exclaimed. "Delicious biscuits."

"I don't know about lettin' this one leave,' the Cook said.

"You can talk!" James exclaimed. "I thought you mute. Why have I never heard you speak to anyone?"

"I don't like any of you," the Cook replied.

Blair laughed briefly, but quieted under James' glare though the mirth stayed in his eyes. Simon appeared in the doorway behind the Captain.

"I figure it'll be two weeks before he's in command," Simon remarked.

"Thank you, Simon," James replied drily. "Right now, I shall speak to Blair for a moment."

Blair followed James out of the galley and set off for his quarterdeck.

"I have news from Port Royal," James said. "Your mother's solicitor has stirred up the government in search for you. It should be easy to get the price paid and get you back home."

"Home?" Blair asked. "Fair Wind is not my home. I have no home. Get the price paid, then I shall decide where home is."

James sensed where that was going and would not follow. "I will send the letter tonight."

"Very well."

"You fare well in the galley, then?"

"Yes, quite."

"How is your ankle?"

"It remains a bit stiff, but I am well," Blair replied. "I should ask since you mentioned it. What do you require of me in your cabin?"

His voice went husky in the asking which jarred James' nerves. He would not meet his captive's gaze.

"I had not thought."

"The cabin boy on the Tern cleaned the room, aired the linens and tended to the Captain's clothes and boots," Blair replied. "Will that do?"

The thought of Blair tending to him at all was shaking his insides. "Quite."

"Have you a tub, sir?"

"Aye."

"I smell of wood soot and garbage and grease, as I'm sure you know," Blair said. "May I use it?"

"How long will you be in the kitchen?" James asked softly.

"No more than another hour."

"I'll have it ready. Tell Billy to heat the water," James said. "I'll stand clear while you use it."

"There is no need to leave your own cabin," Blair said innocently. "Do you wish me to attend your bath first?"

"Blair…"

"I am your servant," Blair said softly. "My only wish is to please you."

"I will stand clear," James replied. "Then, I shall bathe whilst you feed the crew."

"As you wish, Captain."

Blair then turned and returned to the galley. James was left quite shaken and bemused.

Blair finished his work and had water the heated in the time allotted. The bath would give the stew time to finish while Billy and Cook rested. Billy filled the tub then set more water to heat during his rest for the captain's bath. Blair felt good. He didn't even have to charm the galley hands. Once they saw him working beside him clearing the garbage and working in all that lye soap, he won their respect. By that night's meal, he planned to win the crew.

The water felt wonderful. James had discreetly left some salts to further soften it. Blair spent a lot of time scrubbing his hair completely clean after cleansing his skin. It was quite a temptation to sit and soak until the water got cold, but there was so much more to do. Besides, if he did that, Blair didn't think he could finish his tasks. He rose reluctantly from the sudsy water and returned to his cabin.

While he was combing his hair and dressing, Blair heard the tub being emptied and refilled. James was listening to him bathe and knew when he finished. That pleased Blair on some level. He started to put his hair back in the tie but thought better of it. He left the cabin with it wet and hanging about his face.

James was working on his journal as Blair approached. After a moment of ignoring him, the Captain looked up. Involuntarily, his hungry gaze roamed over his face and hair. Blair looked at him expectantly.

"You may speak," James said softly.

"Do you want that lock of hair now?"

James nodded at him. Blair walked over to the desk much as he had that morning standing very close to James as he reached for a sharp knife. The Captain ran his fingers though the mass of damp curls pulling Blair closer as he did. His reaction to the tresses was involuntary. James his compelled to smell and feel the hair. Blair closed his eyes but remained still in those moments. Finally, James deftly cut a small swatch and released his captive.

"You should write the letter now," James said huskily.

Blair nodded. He wrote first to his mother telling her that he was well and safe with James and what was required for his return. He then wrote to the bank that held his estate's assets with instructions. He was careful and precise with his handwriting and signature.

"Will this do?"

James read the documents then nodded. "This is fine. They shall leave with the tide. Go serve the men. Serve me afterward."

Blair pushed the inkstand and quill back into their position on the desk and stepped away from James. He fixed his hair in the tie then donned the apron. It hurt him on some level that James would not secure his hair, but he said nothing. James had returned to his journal. He left without a word and did not see the man he loved drop the quill with trembling fingers then put his head in his hands.

The evening meal went well. The men were surprised with the quality and Blair served them with a ready smile and an easy laugh. Simon's ever present form was hardly necessary. He felt far more comfortable with them when he left with the captain's tray. He found his customer with one cloth slung low around his narrow waist combing his hair.

"Blair! I'm not quite decent."

"I'd seen you in far less," Blair quipped. "Besides, how fearsome of a pirate can you be if your skittish around your cabin boy?"

He set the tray down. "I'll be taking off my apron and such. Put your pants on if it'll make you feel safer. Then, eat whilst I tidy your room."

James waited until Blair's door was closed to quickly dress. He then set upon the wonderful smelling food with relish as his captive returned to the room and began gathering clothes.

"Heaven knows I can't fathom how you keep your things so soft and clean," Blair muttered half to himself. "I'm so sorry. I've spoken out of turn."

James was confused by the statement as his mind was still on the food. "Don't worry, lad. Just be careful when we are not alone. And I paid quite handsomely for the laundry."

"Well, I'll tend to it now," Blair replied. "I don't relish the thought of those harlots handling your britches."

James takes the briefest moment to shoot Blair a sideways glance, but became engrossed in his food once again. At that moment, Blair noticed a bottle of wine and poured James a mug.

"I'm not even surprised at how well you cook," James said. "You are still magical."

Blair smiled to himself as he took a seat on a bench by the cabin door to look over the mending. He promptly fell asleep against the bulkhead. When James next looked up, Blair was tilted over on his side with one of James' shirts still in his hands.

"Oh, Blair," James thought. "This is how you take it easy?"

James removed the clothing from the young man's lap then tried to gently wake him. When he didn't respond, James gathered Blair into his arms then took him to bed. No one was even near his quarterdeck for James to hear, so he risked undressing the prone man for his comfort then tucked him under the covers. Finally, he risked his own sanity to chastely kiss those lush lips.

"Goodnight, Blair."

He shut but did not lock the door.

Captain Rafe arrived and hour later. His handsome face was grim.

"Why the long look, Captain?" James asked. "I'm about to make you rich."

"There are complications."

"In delivering a letter? No one can charge you with that, my friend."

"Nay, not that," Rafe said. "Kincaid knows that Blair is here on Tortuga. Word has gotten back to him about that much. He is still angry about how Blair fooled him into losing Fair Wind."

"He wants him," James said.

"When he reaches Tortuga, there will be a bounty on his head. A big one," Rafe said.

"Not as big as his ransom, I'd wager."

"As would I, knowing the Panther," Rafe said. "But how patient is your crew when they have a price in hand?"

"Well said, my friend."

"I sail tonight for Port Royal to claim your fortune," Rafe said. "To ensure it, sail tomorrow. Do not let your men off this ship."

"Aye." James said. "I shall look for you near Hispaniola."

He and Rafe parted. James fervently hoped that Lash would miss the call to sail.

Chapter Eleven

It seemed to Blair that it was only an instant that he closed his eyes and it was dawn. He was achy from using muscles that had long grown lazy, yet he wasn't very tired. There was a plan to further, relationships to nurture and a heart to thaw. And the plan was working much to well to stop or slow down.

James was having a hard time keeping his air of cold anger intact save for when Lash MacDougal was present. The flame had returned to James' blue eyes when he looked upon his. The smile returned more often in spite of himself. Just knowing that he was testing his strength of will was enough for the moment.

Things were proceeding in the kitchen as well. Cook slammed his huge meat cleaver on the table every time there was an improper word or touch during supper. Blair began to find the scene comical; though he struggled not to show it. He had served quickly and without complaint. The crew did not give his eloquent thanks, but most nodded as they left. Some even smiled.

Blair dressed quickly. James was still asleep and quite heavily if Blair's waking did not stir him. He needed the rest, thus the young man tread carefully out of his cabin. James was still asleep when he let himself out. He watched his beloved in slumber but didn't want to go too near as the temptation to touch was great, and at that hour, they were sure to be caught.

The kitchen was still dark when Blair arrived. Billy and Cook were just stirring in the next room. Well, Billy was. The cook was snoring. He lit a lamp and fired up the stove. They left the mutton stew warming on the embers to be replenished with fresh ingredients as the plantation cooks did for the hands. Blair stirred it up. Then whipped up the biscuits and started on the eggs.

"I told Cook you was here already," Billy said brightly. "He just snored."

"We can manage 'till he wakes," Blair said. "Why don't you peel the rest of the potatoes for the stew while breakfast cooks. I'll put on the fruit for the preserves."

"And the butter?" Billy said. "I ain't had none since me mum's."

"If there really is a cow on that God forsaken rock, we'll take turns on the churn after breakfast."

"I'll get the potatoes, then."

Blair turned to the stove, but heard someone enter an instant after Billy left; "Forget something, Billy?" He asked.

When no one replied, Blair turned to find Lash MacDougal in the doorway.

"The Panther left Tortuga and spent the day on ship -- after he made sure I was drunk," he said. "I'm wonderin' where he spent his time."

"Ask him for was not with me," Blair said. He began to peel the fruit on the table for he did not want to turn his back on Lash.

The first mate entered the galley and came nearer. "I find that hard to believe seein' how you share his chambers," he said.

Blair believed that the man was still drunk.

"I saw him for only a shade longer than you," he said. "Long enough to write a ransom note -- no longer."

The mention of the note made him pause, but he kept coming around the table. "You can tell me, lad. No harm'll come to the Panther. The men'll just take what's comin' to them."

"With you first, I'd wager." Blair thought. "I was here from dawn 'till dusk," he said more loudly. He was as angry as he was frightened.

"Lash!" Billy shouted. "Don't be botherin' Blair!"

"Tell him where I was yesterday, Billy!"

"He was here workin' like a horse," Billy said. The boy was moving quickly from the other side of the room. "He cleaned this place stem to stern. He made us biscuits. Cook and me had to carry him out of here! Lash don't!"

Lash had grabbed Blair's wrist and was trying to force the paring knife from his grasp. Billy dropped the potatoes and was about to jump on his back when they heard the cleaver slam on the table. The cook was so red faced with anger that Lash released Blair immediately.

"Get away from him," he said startling Lash who had also never heard him speak.

The crew was beginning to file in. Simon was first among them. He swept over the situation and moved to stand behind Blair. His hand was on the hilt of the nasty looking dagger that occupied his belt.

"Billy help me with the biscuits," Blair said.

"What's going on here?" Simon asked.

"Lash's botherin' Blair," Billy said.

"I'm tryin' to get the crew their due," Lash said.

"We're getting a kings ransom for him and good food," Simon said. "That's more than we've ever got from you."

"And a pretty smile to boot," Cook said. "Back away from him, Lash."

"Leave him be," another crewman said.

"Billy, get the bowls of oatmeal," Blair said. He was trying not to tremble. "Line up, men. I'll be servin' up the eggs."

"Step away, Lash," yet another crewman said. "Let the lad serve. There's plenty o'skirts to chase in town."

The crewman loudly concurred. Blair's heart was slamming in his chest; his wrist was throbbing.

"What the hell is goin' on?" James shouted from the door. "I could hear you in my sleep!"

His eyes landed on Blair and Lash and his expression became ominous.

"Blair, what's the matter?"

The room became very still. Blair had never felt such an undercurrent of violence. He began to portion out eggs -- serving Lash first. "I twisted my wrist lifting a large pot." He couldn't look him in the eye.

James looked at Simon whose eyes would not leave Lash. No other crewman would meet his gaze.

"That's what you have Billy for," he said finally. He looked at Lash. "First in line, Lash. I knew not that you were such an early riser."

"He was anxious for breakfast," Blair said. "Have a seat, Lash."

Simon took his plate and sat next to Lash as if he were his closest friend.

"As am I," James said. "Serve them quickly, Blair. Then bring along my meal."

"Aye, sir."

"And as for the rest of you, it seems that we have grown soft with prosperity," James said. "The ransom demand has been sent, so there is no reason to tarry on Tortuga. All hands will remain on board. We sail today to ply the trade until the demand is answered."

The room roared in a chorus of ayes.

When James left, the room relaxed. "You've had your due now, Lash MacDougal," Simon said. "Blair just saved your worthless hide."

The room roared anew, but it was hard for Blair to relax. He still had to face James and he had not believed his.

"Are you okay, Blair?" Billy asked.

"I'm fine."

"You shoulda let the Panther skewer him," Cook said. "'Would end yer troubles fer sure."

"I fight my own battles," Blair said. "I had hoped to win his respect."

"You've won a lot this day," Cook said. "The men won't let him touch you again."

Blair looked at the door. "I have a bigger battle to win, now."

James was pacing in his cabin too angry to think. He had seen tears in Blair's eyes. His hands were trembling and Lash was hovering over him like a vulture. The thought of him touching what was his made him nearly insane. He didn't know how long he had been pacing, but suddenly Blair was standing before him with a tray of food.

He stalked to the door, shut and bolted it while the young man arranged his breakfast on the desk.

James faced Blair, who was calm in the face of his anger. "Why did you lie for Lash MacDougal?"

"I admit to no such thing. I was preventing murder."

"His?"

"Or yours," he said. His color was high. His eyes glistened with emotion. "James I cannot bring back Red Lambert... yes, my captives took great delight in telling the tale and how responsible I was for it."

James turned from him suddenly ashamed of his own fury. But Blair came up behind him and gently ran a hand across his shoulders then down his back. "I cannot take away these layers of scars. But when I sat in that dank, smelly hole, I vowed that no one would be hurt because of me -- especially not you. You've been hurt enough. I've never seen anyone as angry as you were the day you bought me. I feared that beautiful light in your eyes was gone."

"A man can be forced to change, lad, by things beyond his control," James said quietly. "The man you wanted thought he found paradise… sun and sea and a beautiful being to make even slavery bearable. He was a fool and now he is dead."

James sagged in his desk chair. Blair threw himself at his feet.

"No! You are still that warm, mirthful man," Blair said desperately, "I see it in your eyes beyond all that sadness and rage. I feel it, James."

"You are an innocent. You are not seeing clearly."

"I can see that my family treated you terribly. I can see that you live amongst cutthroats, so you must be as they are," Blair said. "I see it looks bleak for us now. But my some miracle, we were thrown together. I cannot heal your back or resurrect Red Lambert."

"He was not worth the thought," James quipped.

"I can heal you, James. I can heal your heart."

Blair reached out to touch his face, but James stopped the movement before those magical fingers can connect.

"Don't. I'd have to kill that fool Lash to keep him from taking a turn," James rasped.

Blair smiled. "They want my cooking or my money. None of them want the Panther's fury," Blair murmured reaching out with the other hand. James stopped that one. But the young man's wince made him look at the limb. He gently kissed the bruised wrist. For a moment, they stared at each other. Suddenly, Blair was on his feet flush against James' hard body in a heated kiss. Before Blair can sink into the taste and feel of his beloved, he was released.

"Go!" James ordered. "You have tarried too long."

"Aye," Blair replied. "But it does not end here, James. I do not accept your reasoning. You can hear anyone who comes near this room. And no one would dare question you. So set sail. Try to hide at your wheel. I shall find a way to push you until you take me. Until you have been inside me. Then, you shall not send me away. Now, eat your breakfast!"

Blair straightened his clothing then gave himself a mental shake. He unlocked the door and left the cabin leaving James dumbfounded.

Somehow, Blair was not shaking when he return to the galley. Half the crew was still eating. Billy was elated with his return.

"I've added to the stew," he said.

"Good, now go find the cream from that legendary cow," he said checking his boiling fruit.

"A fine meal, Squire," Lash said. "I expect I won't be keel-hauled?"

"I imagine not."

"I suppose I owe you thanks."

"You owe me nothing save for fairness," he said.

"I'll be needin' you to help me salt the pork when yer done with the preserves," Cook said. "You'll be lettin' the lad work now."

It was a statement, not a request. The Cook still held his cleaver and Simon was intently watching him. Lash left the galley.

Blair impulsively hugged Cook.

"There, there lad," he said startled.

"I don't know when I've met a finer gentleman." he said. He ambled off quickly muttering about getting something from the larder.

"May I get you more food, Simon?" Blair asked.

"Nay." He said. "I can give something to you."

He sidled over to the stove and pressed a small, sheathed dagger in his hand. "The Panther may think Lash sensible enough to back down , but I've no such notions. Lash would risk his neck for almost anything that strikes his fancy."

Blair took the knife and hid it in his apron. "Do you fear for James?"

"The time will come for those two, to be sure," he said. "I'm off. I'll keep an eye out as I can."

"Thanks. I shall as well."

Blair completed his tasks then set about organizing the larder for the long trip. Billy and the Cook went to town to start loading up on fresh water and the rest of the provisions. He was concerned because there seemed hardly space enough to store for a ship of hungry men for any length of time. The galley hands explained that they didn't need great stores of food or water as there was always a friendly cove to find what they needed.

Blair filled the water casks on the captain's quarterdeck and wondered if they could get baths before sailing. He smiled wondering what James would do if he asked. Surprising the Captain was a lot of fun. It kept the man off balance, and so kept the walls from coming up completely. But he was not playing with his beloved. Desire for James gre