The next afternoon rolled around entirely too soon for Frederica. Though she’d dressed in her finest frock, a silk gown the same color as her haunting pale blue eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder if the three captains would appreciate her charms. The plunging neckline of her dress and the way her corset whittled her waist displayed her assets to their best advantage, but what if they found her lacking? Would they call off their arrangement with the captain and crew of the Ocean’s Knave?

She shook her head no. Gaston had told her this carnal meeting was to prove that he was not taking orders from Frederica, that the situation was the other way round and she did his bidding. Remembering that helped her feel more at ease.

Leaving a foul-tempered Gaston back on the ship, Hatch accompanied her to the inn. Being that it was only mid- day, he’d already drank more rum than was his habit. When he’d bid her farewell his words had been slurred and his good eye glassy. Frederica hoped he’d take a nap and awake in better spirits.

In the meantime, she tried to quiet her nerves. Hatch had given her an orange and she ate the succulent fruit along the way, grateful that she didn’t feel the need to converse with Hatch as they walked. The pair had an easy companionship and Hatch was a quiet man anyway.

When they reached the Lucky Sloop, Hatch laid a hand on her shoulder. “You may not always see me, Missy, but I will be there to see they do not harm you. If you should like to stop any proceeding you need only call out my name, and I will see to it your wishes are enforced.” With that he silently pulled a blade from his back pocket and ran it in front of his throat in a mock demonstration of what he would do to anyone who tried to harm her.

Frederica gave him a wan smile. “Your protection is greatly appreciated my friend, but I deem it will prove unnecessary.”

Hatch emitted a low growl and opened the door for her. She took a deep breath and prayed that she was right and these men would not harm her.

The proprietor showed them to a back room she’d never seen. To her surprise it looked more like a meeting room than a bed chamber. She sighed with relief. Perhaps these men had no intention of bedding her. Perhaps they’d merely been testing Gaston to gauge his reaction.

She suddenly felt a cool sweat bead up on her skin, and she feared she might faint. She looked around and tried to gather her bearings. She needed to sit down.

“Miss Beauchamp, why don’t you take a seat?” Miles Appling rushed toward her and helped her to a chair. There were several thick, wooden chairs surrounding a large table in the center of the room.

Pugwash loitered in the corner, a mug in one hand his pipe in the other. Edward Chatham slid into the seat next to her and offered her something to drink.

“I’ll have some rum,” she said.

Chatham smiled shyly and poured her a cup from a bottle sitting on the table.

Appling refilled his mug from another bottle which she assumed was whiskey and stood beside her. Fixing his gaze on hers he said, “We are so pleased you could join us, Mademoiselle Beauchamp.” Then he lifted a lock of her long brown hair and ran his fingers across a string of shells that danced in her mane. “Lovely,” he remarked.

“Thank you,” was all she could manage. In polite company his gesture would have been rude, but it made her stomach flutter with excitement. Perhaps they were going to take her after all.

Pugwash approached the table. He was not classically handsome like the other two men, but there was something interesting about the way he carried himself. He was a confident man, and Frederica had no trouble seeing how he could inspire boatloads of men to follow him. The man was a clearly a born leader. He winked at Frederica bawdily. “Have a drink, lass. We’re here to have a little fun, not to worry you.”

She let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Cheers!” she said and lifted her cup to theirs. “And you may call me Frederica.” The men banged cups and they all drank up.

The men asked her about herself and she told them the story of how she’d been captured by a band of nasty pirates and how Gaston had helped her escape. When she was finished with her tale, Appling shook his head and chuckled. “That Galette’s one lucky bastard. We’ll do well to have him on our side.”

“Aye,” the other men agreed and each of them raised a glass. Miles suggested they play a game, one that would make Frederica more comfortable. Relieved they were behaving so civilized, she nodded in agreement and Chatham pulled out a deck of cards.

The rules of the game were that Frederica would play a round against each of the men in turn. Both players would draw a card from the deck and the player with the lowest card was deemed the loser. The penalty for losing was that the loser would have to remove an item of clothing.

Frederica immediately recognized that if she had to play each man one after the other each of them only getting a turn every third round, the odds were stacked so she would be stark naked before any of the men. She considered protesting, but instead took a sip of liquid courage and smiled nervously. No sense postponing the inevitable.

Chatham was up first and he drew a ten.

Frederica pulled out the jack of spades. “I won!” Frederica exclaimed, surprised. She’d been convinced the men would cheat and she expected to lose every hand. It bolstered her spirits to see she’d been wrong. “You must remove something, Captain Chatham,” she teased getting into the spirit of the game.

“Edward,” he said. “Please call me Edward.”

She nodded her assent. The rum had loosened him up. The boyish nerves he’d shown when they’d first met had been replaced with an easy flirtatiousness. He stood up and with a slow, sly grin he removed his white shirt, keeping his eyes on Frederica the whole time.

Unconsciously, she’d begun to fan herself and Pugwash observed, “Getting’ a bit ‘ot in ‘ere, ain’t it, lass?”

A giggle accompanied by a hiccup erupted from Frederica’s throat, and that made all the men laugh. Frederica stared at Edward’s frame. He was tall, not as tall as Hatch, but taller than most men, and every inch of his body was covered in lean, sinewy muscles. His breeches slung low on his hips allowing her a glimpse of the well-defined “v” that pointed south and hinted at unthinkable carnal delights. She felt her pussy grow moist, her nipples hardened.

Edward saw her reaction and smiled at her conspiratorially.

She played the next round against Pugwash. To her surprise she won again, her seven beating his two. Pugwash set down his pipe and removed the close-fitting, serviceable shirt he wore. Without paying Frederica much attention he went back to blowing smoke rings and drinking his whiskey.

Undressed from the waist up Pugwash was surprisingly fit. He didn’t have the exquisitely defined stomach and arms that Edward did, but he possessed a solid, compact yet strong physique. The muscles bulging from his arms, shoulders and neck muscles made him appear powerful and intimidating. Frederica made a mental note not to cross him.

Next up was Appling and he beat her with an Ace trumping her four. When she took off a boot and set it daintily aside, Edward groaned, and Pugwash grumbled.

Appling gave her an understanding look and the game continued.