Captured By Love

Lady Takersangel's Domain | home

Edward always knew one day his temper would get him in trouble. Pulling at his shackles, he found them quite sturdy as he laid on the floor of a ship bound for the Caribbean. It was just a month ago he was in the goal of London, waiting to be hanged, accused of murdering a woman. He thought back to that night.

The woman had been a barmaid at one of the many taverns by the waterfront. After spending four years on the sea, he was anxious to catch up on his drinking and spending time with a lady or two. She had flirted with him, giving all her attention to him despite the other men vying for her. She had taken him to her room and had been given a glass of ale. That was the last thing he remembered before being roughly aroused the next morning by the local bobbies, finding himself shackled. He had lost his temper when one of them hit him with his nightstick. Swinging his massive arms he knocked the man against the wall. The other two had gotten their sticks out and were beating him, finally knocking him unconscious. It had taken all three of them to drag his body to the paddy wagon as he was no small man.

Edward Beauchamp was a huge man, standing nearly seven feet.

His red hair and green eyes showed his Irish background as well as his temper. His massive build, gotten over the years from working on various ships, intimidated many a man, deterring them from even trifling with him. He had told no one who he really was, having used the name of John Leech.

He had awakened in the goal, feeling something running over his body, seeing a pair of tiny red eyes sitting on his chest looking at him, running away when he jerked

upright. After a week in the cell, he was scratching constantly from the lice and bed bugs which had infested the thin cot, finding out he would be hanged within the next four weeks. To help pass the time, he had taken pieces of dry bread and fed them to the rats that were prevalent in the cell, eventually making a pet out of one of them. On the day before he was to be hanged, the galore came and got him, telling him he was being shipped to the Caribbean for servitude for the rest of his life. It seemed a plantation owner was looking for slaves to work the cane fields. Edward had heard of how the workers were treated there, working in the heat and rain, often dying from a combination of malnutrition and ill-treatment. Now he was being sent there to die for a crime he did not commit. He had vowed he would escape when the first opportunity presented itself.

His mind came back to the present. The chain holding his shackles was unlocked, the guard telling them to go on deck for their daily walk. While on deck, the captain had them doused with sea water, which brought howls of pain from the men as their skin was chafed from the shackles rubbing on their wrists and ankles, or having been whipped. Edward gritted his teeth, determined not to let them see any pain. After their walk on deck, they were given their once-a-day ration of dry bread and thin broth. Although he had lost weight, he still made an intimidating presence, his body lean but muscular. Even the guards kept their distance. It was early morning when he woke up to hear they were mooring on the island of Jamaica.

Vincent Stafford stood on the deck, anxious to get off the ship. After spending nearly two months on board with a group of prisoners, he was ready to get away from the smell and the constant meals of fatback and beans. He was a bit nervous as he would also be in the same house as his sister. He hoped she had calmed down after the last argument they had, having to run from the house as she had thrown a couple of vases at him.

Vincent did not have the looks of someone who had grown up on the islands. He was fair-skinned with black hair and dark eyes, the only resemblance he bore to his mother, who had been of Spanish descent, his father, an Englishman. As he stood on deck, he saw a carriage approach. He saw it was his sister, Katherine. "Well, here goes," he thought.

Katherine took after her mother, having an olive-skinned complexion, dark, almond-shaped eyes and jet black hair, which she always wore pulled back from her face in an unflattering bun. She was very nicely shaped with naturally full breasts and nicely flaring hips. If she were anywhere else but on the island she would be considered an exotic beauty. But the men on the island did not go after Katherine, preferring instead the more sedate, pale-skinned, quiet women. Many were intimidated by her as she was taller than most women. In her early 30's, she was considered a spinster as most women had married in their teens. The one thing that most men did not like was the fact that she was very direct and to the point, being adept at the business of running a sugar cane plantation, which she shared with her brother.

Tess, her maid, accompanied her. "Katherine! Button your blouse up. A proper lady wears it buttoned all the way up!"

"Quiet, Tess! I'll wear it any way I want. It is unbearably hot today. I would pass out if I wore this damn blouse as a 'proper' lady should."

Tess just shook her head, having practically raised Katherine like her own. "You'll never get a husband that way."

"Who said I wanted a husband. The men on this island are interested in one thing only - actually two. A quick fumble and getting their hands on my money."

Tess didn't say another word. Her mind now focused on how were these two going to greet each other. Every time they argued, the servants would run for cover, afraid to say or do anything which would further provoke their anger."

Vincent came down the gangplank. Katherine ran to him, hugging him tightly. "It's good to have you home, brother."

Vince was relieved and suprised. "It's good to be back. I brought more workers for the cane fields. They should do fine. Let's get home. I'm ready for a real bath and real food."

Edward found himself being pushed down the gangplank to a waiting wagon. After climbing aboard they were on their way. As they rode in the hot sun, he saw fields of sugar cane, the slaves whacking at the stalks. After half an hour, they arrived at their destination. Upon stopping, they were told to get out of the wagon and stand in line. For ten minutes they stood in the blazing sun, sweaty and thirsty. Finally the owners came out.

Edward saw them approach. This was his first look at his masters. He snorted to himself at the word. No man was his master, or woman either. He took a long look at the man and decided there was something foreboding about him, but couldn't figure out what.

Katherine looked the men over. She turned to Vincent. "Is this the best you could do? They look half-starved and smell horrible," she said with her hand over her nose. "I'll be lucky to get a day's work out of them."

"There wasn't a lot to choose from."

She looked at him skeptically. "Not a lot or the fact you didn't want to spend the money."

Vincent pursed his lips. He was not going to start an argument with her. He had a lot on his mind, some of it having to do with plans he had worked out with his friend,

Albert, about his sister.

Katherine went down the line, shaking her head. She stopped when she came to Edward. As tall as she was, she was still dwarfed by his size. She saw the look of open contempt on his face. Even though he was slender, she got the feeling from looking at his hands that he could break her apart in no time. She began to get a nervous twitch in her stomach. She went on, feeling his eyes watch her every move.

"The first thing is to get them fed, then have them clean up and rest. They can start first thing in the morning."

"Why do you baby the slaves?" Vincent asked.

"Unlike you and that so-called foreman you hired, I get more work out of them if they are fed and rested. Don't forget, I do run that aspect of this plantation and the house. Remember, you take care of the selling end."

Vincent was finding it hard not to lose his temper with her. She always had a way of irritating him. It was a good thing he was leaving again in a couple of days. He had grown tired of the plantation life, finding his other occupation much more lucrative.

The new slaves were led to a shady overhang and told to wash. Edward closed his eyes as the cool water ran down his neck and chest. Next, they were put in a shack that did little more than give them shade. They laid on cots, which were basically nothing more than thin mattresses covered with fern leaves. Anything though was better than having slept on hard boards for the past two months. Soon food was brought to them - bread, fruit, rice mixed with meat - which was considerably better than the ship fare. They were also given newer clothes and sandals to wear. Edward raised his brows at seeing the clothes, but quickly shed his rags, being more than happy with something half way decent. Stretching out on his cot, he soon went to sleep, not caring it was too short for his long legs.

Early the next morning the men were taken to the fields and put to work. Most of the slaves who had been there a while looked down at the new men, often smiling to themselves, knowing these pale-skinned men would not last long.

It was hard work. The men would be stooped over most of the day, finding their backs tired from being in one position all day. After a week in the sun, Edward was deeply sunburned. After two weeks, his skin was peeling and blistering all over. The foreman, Hogan, didn't help matters any. If any one of the men stopped to stretch for a minute, they soon felt the whip on their backs.

Hogan was foreman at the plantation. Riding his horse, he constantly yelled at the men to keep working, snapping his whip in the air to let them know he meant business. No one wanted to feel his whip as he was very adept at using it, relishing the idea of seeing a man squirm and scream in pain. Many times Edward would look at Hogan, wanting to choke the life from him. Hogan would look at Edward with a smirk on his face. Sometimes he would purposely taut Edward, wanting the big man to give him an excuse. Edward would grit his teeth and keep on working, cursing when Hogan was out of ear shot.

All the slaves were fed once a day, at noon time. Rather than eat, Edward would skip the noon meal, preferring to go someplace cool to forget his lot. He had found a place that was like an eden to him a week after being in the fields. Everyday he would go there, shedding his clothes, which were rags, diving in, grateful for the respite

from the constant stooping and whacking. He would often lay in the water on his back, his mind drifting back to his boyhood days, remembering the green grass on his father's estate, riding his favorite black stallion.

Edward was the youngest son of a high ranking earl. He had always been restless, wanting to be away from the frills and responsibilities of being a young earl to be. He had approached his father one day, saying he wanted to join the merchant navy, wanting to travel as it was going to be a long time before he would inherit the estate. His father had told him no, that the merchant navy was no place for a young man of his station. When his father was called to London, he left, not telling anyone where he was going. He had been sixteen when he left. That was 20 years ago. Now he was on a sugar plantation, working his life away.

Edward opened his eyes, seeing his clothes were dry having washed them the best he could. Taking a deep breath, he dove one more time, then climbed out of the pond, putting his rags and sandals back on his tanned skin. He saw his reflection, wishing there was some way to trim his scraggly beard and hair, which now was down past his shoulders. A pair of almond-shaped eyes came to mind. Why did he think of her? She was just like her brother, a spoiled snob.

Another popped in his head, Hogan. His eyes became cold as ice at the thought of him. One day he would take that same whip and give him a taste of what it felt like.

Katherine decided to check the fields to see how the harvest was going and check on the new slaves. "Lass, you shouldn't be riding among the fields. That's for your brother to do."

"He isn't here, Tess. He's off to who knows where, and lately the trips are getting longer and longer. I need to check on Hogan. I don't trust that damn bastard despite

"Katherine, watch your language!"

"Tess, don't tell me to watch my language. You may be my maid, but that is all you are. Remember that," Katherine said with raised brows.

Tess knew she shouldn't talk to Katherine that way, but she felt like Katherine was a daughter to her, as she had never had kids of her own.

After putting on a riding dress, she rode toward the fields, following a wagon path. She began hearing a snapping sound. Urging her horse on, she came upon Hogan whipping one of the men. Taking her riding crop, she struck Hogan. He turned to see Katherine on her horse, riding crop ready to strike again. "Stop hitting the men or I'll have you whipped."

Hogan looked at Katherine with disdain. "I take orders from your brother, not you."

"I don't think I need to remind you that I run the plantation and slaves, not my brother. If I catch you doing it again, I'll have you tied to a tree and whipped, and then see to it you're fired!"

Hogan watched as she rode on, a look of hatred in his eyes. "One day, bitch, you will find out who will really run the plantation. Then I will finally have my way with you." He turned back to the men. "Okay you lazy son-of-a-bitches, back to work!" He snapped the whip, looking at Edward the whole time. "What are you looking at?" Edward gave him a blank look then turned and went back to his work.

Katherine rode on till she came to the pond. Getting off she walked over to the edge, listening to the small water fall. It was hot a usual, the water looking inviting. She

stripped, undoing her bun, her hair falling down to her waist. She dove in, relishing the coolness. "One of these days, Hogan, Vincent won't be able to save you."

It was close to noon. Leaving the others, Edward headed for his usual spot, ready to dive in as he had almost lost his temper. While he was walking, he thought to how strange this almond-eyed woman was. Her mannerisms bespoke of snobbery, of being a spoiled brat. He had seen the way Hogan had looked at her as she rode away; the loathing in his eyes because she had dared to stop him. The sound of splashing jarred him out of his thoughts. Who else had found his private domain? Walking as quiet as possible, he slowly pushed aside the ferns. What he saw made his gasp.

He saw a long-legged exotic beauty, her graceful shape accentuated by her long jet black hair; her skin shimmering from the droplets of water. He watched her dive from the top of the fall like a graceful swan. He stood mesmerized as she came to the surface. This is what was underneath all the clothes she wore. He had seen many women in his travels, but none made him stop like this one did. He began to feel a warmth spread through his body, making him rub his stomach.

Katherine climbed out and sat on the rocks, squeezing the water from her hair, putting it back in the familiar bun. She dressed, walking over to her horse, deciding instead to walk a ways when she ran into him.

"Why aren't you working?" she asked in surprise and with a bit of nervousness in her voice.

"This is my break time. I came here to cool off, but I see someone beat me to it," he said with a smile.

Katherine caught his meaning, realizing he had been watching her. "How dare you invade my privacy!" She raised her crop, hitting him across his cheek, rearing back to hit him again. "Little hellcat!" he said, grabbing the crop from her hand. Her heart began to beat faster as he towered over her, wondering if he was going to hit her. Throwing the riding crop to the ground, he grabbed her by arms, pulling her to him, kissing her roughly.

Katherine twisted her body, struggling to get away. The more she struggled, the tighter he held her, grinding his lips more into hers. When she stopped struggling, he pushed her way, smiling at the same time. She slapped him, a bright red mark appearing on his face. He started to laugh, which only served to make her more angry. Again she raised her hand, this time Edward grabbed her wrist, then the other when she tried with her other hand. It was then he felt a sting on his back. Hogan was readying his whip to strike again.

"Get back to work!" Hogan said. "I'll deal with you later." Edward glared at him as he turned to go back to the fields. He looked at Katherine. "Wait till your brother hears of this."

"Why do you need to tell him? And why did you have to strike that man? I am perfectly capable of handling any of the slaves," she said, glaring at him. She got on her horse and rode back to the house. As she went past the field, she saw Edward stooped over. As she went past, he turned his head and look at her, then smiled as he continued cutting cane.

When she got back to the house, she went straight to her room, slammed the door and began pacing. "How dare he do that to me!" she thought. "Then have the nerve to

laugh in my face!" The more she thought about his kiss, the more that twitch came in her stomach. Her mind began to wonder as to what it would be like to be alone with him, his lips crushing hers. She jerked herself back to the present. "My God, why am I thinking of that piece of offal?"

A voice boomed from downstairs. "Katherine! Get down here now!" It was Vincent's voice. So he was home. "He sounds in a bad mood. Better go see what he wants," she thought. She lazily went downstairs. Vincent was walking through the house. "Katherine!"

"I'm here, brother. What is it you want?"

"I just talked to Hogan. He tells me that you were accosted by one of the slaves."

"Oh, I see. Your little tattle-tale told you that?"

"He said he saw the man grab you by the arms."

"Hogan tends to exaggerate as always."

"I've told him to have the man whipped as a lesson. They are in the middle of the courtyard right now, getting him tied to a tree."

"You what? Vincent, I think sometimes you are just as sick as that jackass!" she yelled as her eyes became like icicles.

"Well, little sister, we have to teach these slaves just who is their master."

Katherine glared at Vincent, wanting to ring his neck. "Not with my slave you don't!" She ran out of the house to the courtyard. All the slaves were lined up on one side of the yard. She saw Edward tied to one of the huge trees in the yard.

Katherine stood there watching as Hogan repeatedly whipped Edward across the back, seeing the skin turn to mush as he laughed, enjoying every stroke. "This will teach you to know your place." She looked across the yard at those who worked with Edward. She could see their eyes turn hard, especially when they turned to look at her, blaming her for what was happening. Edward gritted his teeth against the pain, refusing to give Hogan the satisfaction of crying out in pain.

Katherine could stand it no longer. She went over and took the whip from Hogan's hand just as he was about to strike again. Turning he saw a pair of angry eyes raise the whip then hit him across the cheek, leaving a deep gash.

"You stinkin' bastard!" she said menacingly, hitting at Hogan again and again.

"That's enough!" Vincent yelled, taking the whip from her hand.

By that time Edward had passed out, oblivious to what was happening. Looking at him, Vincent decided he had had enough, telling a couple of the hands to cut him down and take him to the hut. Doc and Mason untied him from the tree and carried him away.

Hogan was livid with anger. "If you weren't his sister so help me. No one, not even you, takes my whip from me!"

"And if I had my way, I would shoot you between your legs!"

"Katherine, get in the house! There'll be no arguing in front of the slaves!"

With a swish of her skirt, Katherine stomped in the house, shaken by what she had just witnessed.

Turning to Hogan, "Don't antagonize my sister. She would shoot you for real!" Vincent went in after her, leaving Hogan to stand there, embarrassed. He looked at the

remainder of the slaves. "Get back to work!" Hogan turned and looked at the house. "One day I will own that house. Then what will you say, Miss Snob."

Katherine stormed in the house, entering the living room. If only Vincent hadn't stopped her. What she was thinking of doing to Hogan would make even the hardest of men cringe. She had often wondered why Vincent hied him. "Hogan is a sadistic bastard," she thought to herself.

A pair of green eyes again appeared in front of her. The feel of his lips on his, his beard chafing her skin still there. No man had ever handled her that way. They didn't dare because of her temper. This one was different. He could have cared less, laughing when she hit him.

Vincent came in, yelling at the servants, asking where she was. He entered the room, waking her from her thoughts.

"Damn you, Katherine! You don't ever interfere when I've given orders to my man, especially in front of the other slaves. They don't need to see us arguing!"

"You tell that idiotic bastard he has one more time, then he's out of here. I don't care what the hell you have to say!"

Vincent knew he had better calm down. It wasn't going to be much longer. Then he would put his plans into action. Right now he had to get her calm in order to tell her what he had planned for her, then run like hell before she could hit him.

"Calm down, Katherine. I'll talk to Hogan and get him to ease up. Okay? Now, there's something I want to talk to you about."

Katherine looked at him skeptically, knowing she was about to hear something she wasn't going to like.

"Katherine, I think you need to marry and settle down. Women your age have already been married for several years and are raising children. I don't like hearing people talk about you being a spinster."

She had a good idea what he was about to say.

"You're still young yet, Katherine. It's not good that you run a plantation by yourself. You should have a husband who will do that for you.

"Oh? I think I've done all right without one all this time. I take it you have someone in mind."

"Well, yes, he said hesitantly, slowly inching toward the door. "I thought of having Albert call on you."

Vincent ducked just as he finished speaking, narrowly being hit in the head with a book. He had figured right.

"That fumbling, pompous jackass?! The last time he called on me I had him stop the carriage and get out. Claiming to be a gentleman, yet doing his best to get me out of my clothes!"

Vincent's brows furrowed in a scowl. "Well, maybe that's what you need. Someone to get you in bed."

Vincent ran out of the room as Katherine picked up a lamp and threw it, using words most men would never use

Edward laid face down on the cot, still unconscious. One of the slaves, Doc, was doing his best to wash the wounds. He needed cleaner water than what he had gotten from a barrel nearby. He also needed medicine and bandages, but had no way to get them. He cursed the owners, hoping vile things would happen to them.

Katherine had become so upset she had almost forgotten about Edward. She grabbed a small basket and put in some clean cloths, then went to the back part of the yard and down a path to a little grass shack. In this shack lived an old island woman who at one time tended the wounds and ills of the plantation. It was spread among the slaves that she was known to also practice voodoo. She was now too old to leave her cabin, but Katherine had spent many hours there, watching her. She approached the cabin. "Who's there?" the old woman asked, not able to see well. "Oh, its you child. What can Mamma Dee do for you?"

"I need some of your salve."

"Oh, for the young man who was whipped today." Mamma Dee made her own salves, using the herbs and spices of the island. "It's over on the shelf, Little Kat." Katherine took the jar, putting it in the basket.

"Little Kat, sit here for a bit as I have something I need to tell you. Today, I shook my bone bag. The bones told me you would meet a stranger who would bring tragedy to your life, but also bring happiness."

"Mamma Dee, I have already had tragedy in my life. What else could there be?"

"Mark my words, Little Kat. What Mamma Dee sees will happen."

Katherine thanked her, kissing her on the cheek. On her way to the slave shack, she ran into Hogan. "Where are you going?" he asked with a sneer.

"For your information, I am on my way to the slave shack to take care of the man you whipped today," she replied hissingly. She started to go on by him, but he stopped in front of her. "Your brother saved you today, Miss High and Mighty, but he can't be around all the time. One of these day, I'll have my revenge."

"Hogan, threaten me all you want. Just remember what I told you earlier today. If I had a gun, I would shoot you between the legs."

She went around him, leaving him standing there. Soon she was outside the cabin. Taking a deep breath she entered. As soon as she entered she thought maybe she should have brought someone with her. The stares she was given by the men made her hesitant. She looked around and saw Edward lying on a cot, sweat pouring from him. Doc looked at her with contempt and anger in his eyes. "Isn't it enough you had him whipped? Now what do you plan to do?"

"Be careful how you talk, she said in a low tone. "I won't hesitate to have you punished. Abd I did not have him whipped." Doc looked at her, wondering if he should

"You can talk to me all you like. I am not afraid of the likes of you."

She went to the cot and took off what remained of Edward's rag. She looked at the wounds, not liking the red skin around the scabs. Touching the skin, she felt the heat,

seeing the wounds were infected. She then saw the water that was in a bowl nearby. It was dirty looking.

"Where did you get this water?" she asked.

"From the barrel outside. That's what we drink as well as bath with."

Katherine gave him a bucket. "Go to the well by the house and fill this. Tell anyone if they should stop you it's for me."

Doc motioned for one of the men to go. He wasn't about to leave Edward alone with her. Katherine felt his gray eyes watch her every move as she removed the items from the basket. Soon the man was back with the clean water. Taking one of the cloths and dunking it in the water, she began to wash Edward's back. When she was through, she gently put the salve on his back, covering the salve with the other cloths. The salve took effect immediately as Edward began to groan and move around.

"What was that you put on him?" Doc asked.

"It's a salve. I got it from Mamma Dee. It will draw out any infection and help heal his back. Here are some more clean cloths. Keep this salve on his back. In a few days he should begin to heal. I'll also have a barrel of clean water brought to you with a lid on top to keep it from getting dirty."

Doc looked at her as she left, wondering what had made her come to the shack.

True to her word, Katherine had a barrel of fresh water brought to the shack, a cover placed over it to keep the dirt out. A bag of fresh clothes was sent also as she had

seen the ones they wore were practically shredded.

It took a few days, but Edward's back began to heal, the salve drawing out the fever and infection. Soon he was able to set up. He asked Doc had he imagined her coming to the shack?

"You didn't imagine. She came to the shack and cleaned your back, putting a salve on to draw out the fever and infection, leaving the jar with me to apply the rest of it

on. She sent a barrel of fresh water over and more clothes." Edward could hardly believe she did it out of the goodness of her heart, if she had one. More likely to ease her nagging conscience.

While he had been lying on his cot, he had been thinking about trying to get away from this place. It wouldn't do any good to escape as he would eventually be found. While they had been aboard the ship that brought them, he had gotten acquainted with them, finding out that they were all experienced seamen, having been jailed for desertion, getting into trouble at the taverns, etc. If only he could steal a ship, then he would be out of this Godforsaken place.

On his way to Jamaica, Admiral Huntington was stopping for a short visit to the island. For the last six months he had been searching for the scourge of the sea called "The Black Devil." He had searched every island in the Caribbean for the elusive pirate, but so far nothing had turned up. He would appear, then disappear into thin air, leaving behind his trademark - broken and tortured bodies, some beyond recognition, and no survivors to identify him.

Some months ago, Admiral Huntington had come up with a plan to catch him. If things worked out right, in just a few days the plan would be put into action.

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