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"I'm sorry, m'lady." The young sailor murmured on repeat, his voice cracking and breaking with the words.
The sound of it was now grating to your ears even if you forced yourself not to show it. "It's not your fault." You tried to reassure but he seemed not to hear you.
"We won't see the sunrise." He mumbled, staring at the cabin door. Yet it was the loaded pistol in his shaking hands that made you wary. He sniffled loudly before continuing his ramblings. "Damn pirates. Red sun rose this mornin'. Bad omen, Cook said. A bad omen. And now they'll kill us all."
At hearing his terror-laden words, instead of sinking into the pit of despair and hopelessness, a shot of determination infused itself into your blood. With a sudden resolution coating your spine, you stood up from the chair you had been waiting in with baited breath. No one was going to save you and the crew. That was a fact. Maybe, though, you could do something to bargain with the pirates. Maybe, just, maybe, there was a chance. A fool's hope….but you had to try.
On instinct, you quickly ran a hand over your gown, smoothing any wrinkles you may have gotten while sitting at the cabin window. Your mother and governess had ingrained into you to always appear your best, in whatever form that may take. You hoped one day to be able to tell them you still heeded their words when preparing to meet bloodthirsty pirates. You just had to survive the encounter.
Standing tall and poised, like the lady you were, you started towards the cabin door, uncertain what awaited you on the other side.
"M'lady! You can't–"
You spun on your heel and glared at him. "Either I wait here for my inevitable demise, for these pirates will find me, that is assured. Or I seek them out first and can walk with my head held high. I will not dishonor my family's name nor will I be marked a coward in the face of this danger!"
As the young sailor stared silently at you in awe, easily recognizable on his boyish face, you stepped past him and threw open the door to your assigned cabin. Taking a steeling breath, you proceeded towards the deck where you could hear the terrible commotion.
The morning had started out like any other while you were on your father's schooner traveling the Caribbean waters. It was ironic you thought now. Your father had been apprehensive about allowing you to travel. Yet you had vehemently fought, claiming the waters around your island were some of the safest in the Caribbean and that you wanted to visit your friend, a fellow Governor's daughter, who lived on the island the schooner was traveling to. Eventually he gave in and allowed you to go. In addition, he chose to assign you personally in charge of his correspondence instead of sending his usual man. You were stupidly proud for the responsibility and hoped this further proved to your father you could be useful for more than just a beneficial marriage arrangement.
The next day the schooner set sail from port with you aboard it. The first tastes of freedom danced upon your tongue, bringing a smile to your face. The wind blowing through your hair and the spray of the salty water against your skin made you feel more alive than any elegant party you were forced to attend by your mother's insistence.
Even this morning's sunrise was a masterpiece, the rich, warm colors blazing across the sky, chasing away the darkness of night and heralding a beautiful day.
Then four hours ago, a ship had been spotted following yours.
The captain was an admirable seaman, one of the best in your father's fleet. Unfortunately, accompanying his vast wealth of experience and knowledge, closely followed his arrogance. After a brief hesitation, he dismissed the concern of some of the sailors and told them to continue onward. The questionable ship was most likely another traveling merchant for the weather was fair and it was prime season for trading.
But everything fell apart as that questionable ship quickly drew closer. Then an hour ago, it unfurled the Jolly Roger flag. Which only meant one thing.
Pirates.
The captain forcibly demanded you to wait in your cabin while he and his men tried everything to outrun the pirates. Even as you hurried down the wooden ladder, almost getting bowled over by sailors running around like headless chickens, you knew the outcome was inevitable.
Then shouts and cries of dismay echoed from the deck, flooding your cabin as a second flag was raised, signaling which pirate ship was coming for them.
A black sail with a skeleton holding a pistol in one hand and a cap on its head.
The Peaky Blinders pirates.
Now your doom was truly assured.
The fight began far sooner than you expected. Neither side had even attempted to fire their cannons. The dark, dreaded ship seemed to suddenly appear beside the schooner, as if the wind and waves favored the vessel. From your cabin window, you could make out the figurehead on their ship- a barely clad woman with the face replaced by a skull. A fearful shudder shot down your spine.
Hiding away in your cabin, you listened as your father's men fought valiantly against the marauding pirates. The sounds dragged on ceaselessly. The clash of swords. The explosions of pistols. The cries and screams of the injured and dying. The blood-curling, manic laughter and war cries of the pirates. Even the water below began to rise and fall more drastically, as if sensing the chaos and expanding upon it.
Never before had you heard the sounds of battle and you prayed to never hear them again.
Eventually the sounds died away, along with any minimal hope of your father's sailors succeeding against the Blinders. You wondered why the pirates had not searched the ship yet. Surely they sought to plunder what they could from your father's vessel. Then they would find you.
And what then?
So you resolved to seek them out first. It was fool-hardy and rash. Everything you were taught not to be. The likelihood of your imprisonment and death increased with each step but you did not stop. The panic clawing at you was squashed with the booted heels of your fortitude. You were your father's daughter. A governor's daughter. Your worth and esteem were far beyond anything these pirates could ever hope to achieve.
As gracefully as possible, which was not much unfortunately, you ascended the ladder leading up to the main deck. Whatever dramatic entrance you had hoped to achieve was null and void for your gown caught on the last step and gave a dramatic rip. Mumbling under your breath, you cursed the pretty but otherwise useless gown as you stepped off the ladder and onto the deck.
The sight you beheld froze the very air in your lungs and made your heart plummet to the dark depths of the ocean below your feet.
The sailors still breathing sat bound with ropes against the hull of the ship. Many were still painted in blood, either their own or of the pirates they had managed to kill. The dead sailors were piled in an unsightly heap towards the bow of the ship. Lastly, your captain had been tied to the main mast of the schooner, back pressed to the wood. The gag in his mouth was turning red with the blood dripping from his crooked nose.
Yet it was none of those sights which chilled you to your very core. No, it was the unobstructed view of the many pirates swarming like ants on the deck of your father's ship and their own dark ship, tethered alongside yours with hooks and ropes.
"Oh ho! Lookie who we've got 'ere, boys. A real fookin' lady."
Startled, your head swiveled, seeking out the owner of the brusque voice. A well of wariness transformed into a sea of anxiety, rolling and crashing against your ribcage. It was now as you met the blue eyes of the pirate, the consequences of your actions cleared a path before you, highlighting the stupidity and hopelessness of it. Still, you straightened up, drawing your shoulders back and lifting your chin slightly. Your knees may be trembling under your dress but you refused to show it.
The pirate who had spoken, drawing unwanted attention to the two of you, stood behind you, leaning against the stair-railing leading up to the helm. With a push, he sauntered over to you, his steps not exactly even and you wondered if it had to do anything with the bottle he had in hand. Blood droplets slid down his face, seemingly gathering in this thick mustache, making him seem to have a perpetual bloody frown. You could spot blood splatters on the front of his white shirt and dark jacket. He ambled over, his proximity uncomfortably close. Tilting his head, his gaze scanned you, starting from your feet and rising like the tide to your face. His eyes met yours and you could not help the unconscious step back you took. There was something unbalanced in his gaze; like a sweet cat that purred when given a treat, but just as easily flipped to become sadistic as it played and tormented its prey.
"Think this is 'er, John boy?"
Another pirate approached with an easy, relaxed gait. A thick splinter of wood lulled about in the corner of his mouth, following the curve as his lips raised in a smirk. This one was not bathed in blood like the first, thankfully, but he appeared no less threatening. Twin pistols hung within view just inside his jacket, and you could not help but wonder if one of those weapons had killed your father's men. This new pirate, a John boy, looked you up and down, but instead of feeling intimidating like the other, it seemed more cheeky and mischievous.
"I reckon it could be….too many clothes on to tell." He winked at you. A gaping hole opened up in your stomach at his implication.
The first pirate chuckled darkly, reaching over to grab a fist full of fabric at your hips.
Immediately you spun and smacked his hand away with more force than strictly necessary. "You will not touch me, you miscreant." You spat at him, anger coating each syllable, only just barely hiding the fear brewing within you. "I am the governor's daughter and you will treat me with the respect afforded to my station."
Some snickering and laughter erupted from the other pirates nearby that heard your brash statement. It appeared the others were enjoying watching the spectacle. One of the pirates called out 'I'll show 'er my respect' causing more jeers and laughter to follow in its wake. Dread slithered up your torso to wrap around your chest like a constrictor. You tried to swallow but your mouth and throat felt as dry as the height of summer under the scorching sun.
The one behind you, John you thought, seemed to laugh the loudest. His eyes danced with mirth as he smacked his companion's back still next to you. "A real firecracker this one is, eh?"
"Yeah, nothin' but trouble for us. Mark me words." The first grumbled, watching you like he was tempted to throw you overboard and just be done with your infuriating presence.
You straightened up, ignoring the terror tainting the blood in your veins. "I heard you are led by a man called Shelby. I demand to speak with him."
"Yeah? Well it's your lucky day, love. You've found yourself two Shelbys."
"What?"
The smiling one continued, gesturing to himself and then his companion. "I'm John Shelby, and this 'ere is me brother, Arthur Shelby."
"No…" You shook your head as you looked between the brothers and then glanced at those around. The brothers and many others wore the infamous peaked caps which had given the pirates their name and calling card of terror and death. Something tinkled the back of your mind, somehow you knew, you just knew these two brothers were not the one you were looking for. "I've heard you're led by a….a Thomas. Thomas Shelby."
The first one, Arthur, eyed you skeptically then shrugged. "You're wanting the other one then. OI! TOMMY! THE LADY WANTS TO TALK TO YA!"
You jumped slightly as the man suddenly shouted, your heart speeding up like a racehorse taking off. Seemingly sensing your discomfort, he grinned down at you before looking over at his brother.
"This'll be fun to watch."
"My money's on the girl." John replied, still smirking.
Arthur hummed. "Two coins."
The brothers bumped their fists together, grinning like fiends at their bet.
But you barely heard their words, for everything had become just background noise as your eyes were locked on the man marching your way. Each step was taken with such authority, such assurance, like he owned the world and he was just biding his time until revelation came and the world submitted to him. His jacket flapped in the breeze behind him, giving the illusion of his shadow coming to life to haunt his steps. His peaked cap was pulled low over his face but somehow you just knew that his eyes missed nothing.
As he walked over, John slid closer to Arthur, making room for the third Shelby to join the circle of entertainment for those watching. Thomas stood next to you and immediately all the fine hairs on your arms and the back for your neck stood at attention. Although he had not spoken a word yet, the aura of danger hanging around him like a noose was almost suffocating to you. Even with all the guns and pistols, all the swords and daggers decorating the pirates, the spilled blood and the sickly sweet stench of gunsmoke lingering in the air, you knew that the most dangerous thing on board either ship was the pirate now standing beside you.
Then when his gaze found yours, a shiver of both heat and ice coursed through you. Those stormy eyes held you captive far more than any chain ever could. And it was in that moment you realized how wildly inaccurate the rumors and whispers of the shadowed leader of the Peaky Blinder pirates was. There was a calculating intelligence there that easily rivaled any businessman or lord you had ever encountered. Here was not a madman like he was made out to be. No, this was a man who knew how to play the game, who knew how to obtain what he wanted, whose ambition bleed from him just as much as the predatory presence he so casually wore.
His gaze reminded you of a man you had met long ago, who kept a hawk for hunting. Those same piercing eyes you saw in the hawk now met your gaze in the pirate. And with the way he was staring at you, you automatically knew he saw you as prey who he was just waiting to swoop in and devour. You wondered when the flimsy cage would break and his instincts would overtake him, just like that pet hawk you had encountered.
"So you're the governor's daughter, eh?"
If you lacked better self-control, your jaw would have dropped at the smooth voice that came out of his mouth. It was unnatural for such a charming, intriguing voice to come from….from a pirate! It was like the perfectly aged, fine wines that your mother coveted jealously; something you wanted to take a sip of and swirl around in your mouth to taste every flavorful note in it.
You rapidly blinked, dismissing the romantic notion of his voice and focused on the pirate beside you who wore a blank expression. "And you must be Thomas Shelby, infamous leader of the Peaky Blinders."
He hummed then stepped closer, his jacket sleeve brushing your bare arm briefly. "Not many are privy to that knowledge. How did you come by it?"
"Unlike most respectable ladies who only worry about the latest fashion or fetching themselves a handsome match, I listen and I ask questions. For knowledge is a far more superior tool than any gun or sword could ever hope to be."
His eyes widened momentarily, clearly not expecting your outburst or the hostility in your voice.
Before he could speak, you continued, never once tearing your gaze away from his. "I am here to parlay with you for the release of these sailors and their freedom."
"Is that so?" The corners of his lips twitched in response.
You internally questioned if he was amused by your zealous request, but it did not matter, as long as he listened you hoped for a positive outcome. "Yes. They are good men and do not deserve death."
"Hmmm…and what do you have to equal in value for their lives?"
You paused, for here was the gamble that had been playing out in your mind. You could only hope the dice was in your favor. "There is a small fortune on this schooner. I will hand it over to you without complaint on your word that with it, you will release these sailors and allow them to return home without further harm."
"And you would trust my word? The word of a pirate?"
Staring into his icy blue eyes that somehow caused your heart to burn with something you had yet to experience, the words sprouted from your mouth before you realized what you had said. "I would trust your word alone, Mr. Shelby."
His gaze kept yours ensnared, refusing you release. He stared at you, seeming to peer right into your soul, to probe into the very core of your being. You should have been frightened at the intrusion. You should have wretched yourself away from his gaze and dropped your eyes to the ground like a proper lady. Instead, you stared back, allowing him to see the sincerity of your request.
After a long moment, he finally gave a slow nod. "Alright. You have me word. The men will be released."
"Thank you." You breathed out, not realizing until now how you had held your breath while maintaining eye contact.
In the next breath, you told the other two brothers where exactly the small fortune of gemstones were hidden in your cabin. With their excited cheers filling your ears, they dashed down the ladder and presumably to your cabin.
Then you were left standing there on the deck with Thomas, his jacket sleeve still barely brushing your arm and sending shivers through your body. With a tone invoking confidence and leaving no room for argument, he barked out several orders, sending some of the pirates scurrying about.
It was now with his focus off of you, were you truly able to admire the beauty of the man. The defined cheekbones and sharp jawline. Those full lips that appeared soft despite his hardened exterior. Even his physique was attractive with wide shoulders over his agile frame. It was those eyes though, the unholy burning in them that captivated you the most. He was truly the most beautiful man you had ever met.
As if that thought summoned his attention, his gaze swung back to you. Butterflies erupted in your belly, dancing the foxtrot and bringing an embarrassing warmth to your face. Hastily, your eyes sought out the sea, hoping the rise and fall of the waves could settle your heart and nerves somehow. You sensed the weight of his eyes on you but purposefully kept your gaze away.
A loud groan came from one of the sailors still tied to the hull. Your eyes drifted to them for a fleeting moment, taking in the evidence of brutality that must have faced when fighting off the pirates. As an overflow of water saturated your eyes, you swiftly averted your gaze back to the sea. If you thought about your situation too long, you feared you would crumble. Now you needed to remain strong and resilient. So with your chin held high, and appearing aloof to the pirate beside you, you settled for watching the crashing and rolling waves just on the other side of the ship.
"You are not what I expected."
You stiffened at his unexpected statement. Still staring at the Caribbean waters, you blandly replied. "I apologize for the disappointment."
"On the contrary, you could never be a disappointment."
Your head whipped around to look at the pirate, shock clouding your mind. Especially when he met your gaze with a look of indifference, as if he had only made a passing comment about the weather. Butterflies erupted anew in your belly. Your mouth suddenly felt dry and you subconsciously licked your lips, prepared to question him about his statement.
At that moment, his brothers climbed up the ladder, with beaming smiles on their faces. Arthur lifted up the small, velvet bag into the air and proclaimed that Fate turned her face favorably upon them today. The cheering erupting from the pirates both still on the schooner and on their pirate ship was enough to wake the dead.
Yet the whole time your mind could only focus on one exact detail amidst the rambunctious celebration. As you licked your lips, those piercing eyes had followed the action fervently and something distinctly hungry had ignited in them for a second. But within the next blink of your eyes, it was gone.
"How did you come by all these jewels, eh? Steal 'em from someone?" Arthur chuckled at his own jest, handing the bag over to Thomas, who peeked inside and raised a single eyebrow before closing the bag and slipping it into his pocket.
"Does it matter?" You retorted, not about to admit it was part of your dowry and gifted to you by your late grandmother. You turned your gaze back to the leader of the pirates. "You have your promised fortune. Now release my father's men."
"Indeed I do." He stared at you for a long, tense moment, before he gave the order. "Free the sailors…and put them in the row boat."
"What? That wasn't–"
Thomas interrupted you, a formidable smirk plastered across his mouth that betrayed exactly how he felt about manipulating your request to his advantage. "You said to release them. You gave no further details, yeah? So that left it up to me own whims about how exactly they should be released and where."
"But–"
"And an island is within view. They will be able to row safely there by the end of the day. From there, they can find another vessel to return to your father and inform him of the pirating of his ship and goods." His smirk lost the predatory touch and morphed into someone more thoughtful as he looked around your father's ship. "Besides, I like this schooner. It'll be an excellent addition to my fleet."
Your heart pounded like a war drum inside of your chest. Anxiety twisted and rolled like snakes in your belly. Your head swiveled to watch the sailors having their bonds cut and then roughly hauled up by the jeering pirates and towards the single rowboat. Surely it could not hold all the men easily? It would capsize!
One of the sailors started to fight back, a young man you had known since childhood. He struggled against the two pirates half-dragging him towards the starboard side of the ship, curses spilling like oil from his mouth. For the briefest second, your eyes met his and you willed him to cease his futile fight. His freedom was at hand, why was he only making things worse for himself? Then he silently mouthed your name and increased his struggle. He managed to land a punch to one of the pirates that knocked him to the deck with a loud thud. Like a swarm, several pirates gathered around your childhood friend, beating him back into submission. With the extra help, they bodily threw the sailor overboard. You winced when you heard the answering splash.
"What of the captain?" John asked softly, having returned to his spot next to his brothers. "He insulted us. Fookin' bastard."
That explained why he was gagged like a common criminal, but you chose not to comment, a sense of dread rising in you like clogging smoke.
Thomas mulled it over, a wrathful disquiet emanating from his presence. "Arthur," the other brother turned his heavy gaze from the bound captain to his brother. "He insulted you. I believe an eye would be adequate recompense."
The answering smile, his mustache still coated in blood, looked purely sinister and malevolent. Like a shark with the scent of blood in the water, his eyes gleamed manically. Without another word, he stomped over, already pulling the peaked cap off his head.
The pirates still lingering about hooted and cheered as Arthur approached the now squirming captain, the gag muffling what most assuredly was begging and pleading for mercy.
But here, he would find none.
"No, please, don't do it." You begged, even though you knew in your gut it was futile.
"Too late, love." John chuckled, his gaze locked on the gruesome ordeal about to occur.
Without thought, your feet took a step forward, ready to intervene. But before you could take another step, a calloused hand wrapped around your wrist, preventing any further movement. A gentle but demanding tug made you fall back to his side again. Lifting your head, you opened your mouth to demand this atrocity cease, but the first scream from the captain cut through your mind, making the words vanish on your tongue.
Nausea crawled up your throat, the initial threat to your stomach emptying its contents right there on the deck. Your hand covered your mouth in both horror and an attempt to not be sick.
Lips brushed the top of your ear as a smooth voice murmured quietly for you alone. "No one will look less upon you for not watching."
You wanted to watch, to prove him wrong, that you were made of sterner material, but with another round of screams echoing in your mind like the sea gulls' cries, you turned away. On instinct, you pressed your forehead against the shoulder next to you, eyes squeezed tight even though it did nothing to blot out the sounds. Later you would question your sanity for seeking comfort from the very pirate who ordered the mutilation. Then to your surprise, you felt the hand still shackling you, turn just enough and a thumb press to the palm of your hand. It slowly swiped back and forth as if giving the resemblance of comfort in the agonizing moment.
Thankfully, the horrifying ordeal was not dragged out. With blood streaming from both eye sockets, the captain was lowered to his men waiting in the rowboat. You had heard the Blinders would take an eye in payment to any captain they captured and released. All you could assume was one eye was for this payment and the other was for the debt incurred by the insult.
Silently, you took a step in the direction of the rowboat, what strength and fortitude you possessed was draining away like dirty rainwater. You hoped the rowboat had room for everyone. Thoughts of the captain and his maiming made your stomach turn over and the nausea returned. Your gown was most likely cleaner than the clothing the sailors wore, surely they could help you tear some off to use as binding. There was already a large tear near the hem, it would not be difficult to rip the fabric from that spot.
Yet the shackle around your wrist prevented you from moving further away and joining your father's men.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"To the boat." You looked up in confusion to the pirate still physically keeping you by his side.
He hummed thoughtfully, glancing in the direction of where the rowboat lay out of sight, before meeting your gaze calmly. "That was not part of the deal."
At his words, your heart oozed from your ribcage and splattered on the deck beneath your feet.
"I'm not done with you yet, darling." He crooned. Gaze never leaving yours, he lifted your hand still ensnared in his and pressed a chaste kiss to your knuckles.
You despised how your heart fluttered like a bird's wing and your skin tingled where his lips touched you. Such a courtly action from a pirate, who eventually would meet his demise at the end of the rope. It was unseemingly how your body betrayed you, especially with the cruelty you just bore witness to under his orders. You should be repulsed by him, but that sensation never even crossed your mind.
Finally freeing you from his hold, he turned to his brother, still standing nearby. "John, take her to my cabin."
You glared at the pirate captain with all the malice your body possessed, which only seemed to amuse him. He gave you a cheeky wink then sauntered away, his hands clasped behind his back. He stopped to speak with an clearly older pirate, based on his graying hair and weather-lined face, who was eyeing the rigging critically and muttering to himself.
"C'mon, love. Best not to anger 'im."
When John tried to grab your upper arm, you yanked it out of his grasp. "I am fully capable of walking myself, thank you very much." You spat at him, completely devoid of any social decorum instilled into you.
He grinned broadly, seemingly unoffended by your harsh words and attitude. "Oh, you'll be fun. Aunt Pol is going to love you."
You had no idea what that meant nor were you inclined to find out. Yet it appeared you no longer had a choice in the matter. Like a prisoner following the hangman to the gallows, you walked just behind the Shelby brother. Terror and panic attempted to cling to you like thorny tendrils but everything felt dulled, like a fog had crept into your mind.
As you approached the pirate ship, the Jolly Roger and their flag waving proudly like a standard under the Caribbean sun, the realization hit you anew, causing your knees to weaken and for you to stumble on the next step.
You were truly a captive of the Peaky Blinders pirates.