Authors: Lynelle Clark

A Pirate’s Wife

Revised Version

Written By

Lynelle Clark

The Pirate’s Wife

Cover Design by Truth Designs

Dedication

To all the authors who inspired me over the years of

reading allowing me a moment of joy exploring their

Worlds of imagination. Especially Ena Murray a well

known South African writer through my growing years.

The motivation for this book. Her stories left me breathless

and always wanting for more.

I also want to thank my husband putting up with me

and literally did all the house hold chores so that I could

write. You are a blessing.

My children I love you guys.

To Mary C. Findley who helped with the proof

reading and polishing of this, my first book. All the mails

been send between us, her patience and knowledge to

improof the read much more. What a blessing you have

become.

To learn more about the author visit

http://www.facebook.com/Aspiredwriter2012?ref=hl

http://lynelleclarkaspiredwriter.blogspot.com/

https://twitter.com/LynelleClark1

http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/8713879-lynelle-clark

or contact her at: [email protected]

Contents

Title

Dedication

Contact Details

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Authors History

Proverbs 1:1-33

The proverbs of Solomon, son of David, king of Israel: To know wisdom
and instruction, to understand words of insight, to receive instruction in wise
dealing, in righteousness, justice, and equity; to give prudence to the
simple, knowledge and discretion to the youth— Let the wise hear and
increase in learning, and the one who understands obtain guidance, ...

Prologue

It was Christmas of 1623 when six people stepped onto the dock at the harbour of Lisbon, Portugal. It was a

cloudless, sunny day with a definite bite of cold in the air.

People scattered around the harbour, pulling jackets tight to

keep body heat in, each busy with luggage, hauling crates

off various colossal wooden hull ships. Each had three

masts rigged with sail and heavy tackle and supplies, ready

for trade to new destinations. Sailors shouted to each other,

in anger or in banter, in their usual sailor dialect,

accompanied by loud and heavy thuds as the gigantic ships

were either unloaded or reloaded, depending if they had

arrived or were departing on a new course.

In between the shouting of the sailors, animals

bellowed, clucked or whinnied, waiting for attention.

Everyone raced to finish so that they could go to the

already awaiting soiled doves waving seductively to the

tired but aroused sailors. Their half-clad bodies teased men

hungry for female companionship after six months or more

at sea.

No one gave the group of six passing by much

thought, because they looked like ordinary citizens. Led by

a tall blond man, the two women of the group were

attracting a few lustful looks of unwanted characters. The

men protected them though, guiding them through the

throng to a waiting carriage ready to take them to their

destination.

They had lost everything of earthly value but

discovered who they were as people, as human beings.

They were survivors of the vast untamed land of Africa,

overcoming the greatest odds against them, gaining new

friends and unlikely love. The company consisted of the

giant blond sailor and his old sailor friend, the Contessa

who held a little girl by the hand, the sea captain, and a

slave girl. Bone weary, they entered the carriage. The blond

giant closed the door behind them, tapping on the roof to

signal the coach driver to move.

He wrapped the frail body of the beautiful black-

haired Contessa Qonchita in his steely arms. Rosa-Lee, the

little girl, slept in her mother's arms. The gentle giant gazed

at her with so much love and adoration. One thick finger

caressed the soft pink cheek of the little girl he had

accepted as his own. Cisco thought back to where their

journey had begun.

Two years ago they had embarked on a voyage

from India to Portugal, a supposedly easy and hassle-free

voyage. But it had tested their endurance and their faith in

the Hand of Providence and in each other.

†††

September 12, 1621

We have finally arrived on the ship
Armando
on our

long-awaited journey. Five years I stayed in this hell hole.

Finally I am leaving, a disillusioned wife and mother.

Rosa-Lee is the only highlight of it all, born out of abuse,

but a shining beacon in my life.

The sea seemed to be calm enough and Captain

Laurenco Breno assured us that our voyage would be

without problems. How he could make this statement was

beyond me, since the ocean could change instantly.

I didn't like the man's beady eyes, his expression

cold and stormy, with a glimmer of evil in the black depths.

His lustful eyes raked over me and I felt violated by this

act. I had to stop myself from shivering in front of this

obnoxious man, and will keep my distance the entire trip.

Rosa-Lee made a friend today. It was the first time I

saw her openly speaking to an older man as she did to the

giant sailor, with such familiarity. I hope we don't bring

him any trouble. The look of disdain from the captain

towards the blond sailor was undeniably menacing.

I never saw such a big man. His tanned, hard body

stretched his white cotton shirt, his height towering over all
on the boat including Faro, who is not short at all. But he

was kind to Rosa-Lee, humble in his approach. Careful,

maybe, with only a slight smile on the handsome face

caused by her continuous chatter. There is something

different in him. I find myself standing close to observe him

better, something I have never done with any man, not even

my own husband. Faro calls me 'ice princess' and I like to I

keep it that way.

I hope I can see the sailor again.

Qonchita shut the old leather-bound dairy, set the

pen down, and crept under the soft blankets of the bed in

the cabin appointed to her and Rosa-Lee, already in a deep

sleep. She brushed the dark locks of her daughter and

kissed the rosy cheeks.

'I love you,' she whispered to the small child, and

lying back she prayed softly for a safe voyage.

†††

September 12, 1621

New people boarded the ship today: a man and his

wife and their young child. The chatter of the little girl was
interesting to say the least. I never thought I would love this
so much. What would the fellows say if they hear about

this? Big Cisco Almaida falling for a little girl like that.

She stood next to her mother, a stunning woman

with dark hair and dark smouldering eyes. The eyes were

shadowed as if to hide something deeper. She was not

happy, even if she was married to the rich merchant. Faro

Iago's reputation preceded him. How could she be married

to that scoundrel, who was so far beneath her? The man

clearly did not appreciate her or his daughter.

How many times have I wished for a wife and child

of my own? Like this man had. After nineteen years on this

ship it was only a dream, but the little girl did something

today. She touched a very deep desire for a family of my