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HISTORICAL FICTION | REGENCY | ADVENTURE | ROMANCE

Anne’s New Lot In Life

Stranded, she must accept a farmer for a husband

Sailing from Scotland to Jamaica, Anne is kidnapped by pirates. After the Spanish rescued her, they gave her to the French. Convicted of piracy, she has been lashed and sold into slavery. Now, she must forge a new life as a farmer’s wife.

This story is one of a young woman’s coming of age as she experiences the romance and tribulations of the high seas in the early 18th century. Read this as a standalone story, or catch up with the tale here:

[embed]List: Anne And The Pirate | Curated by S M Revolinski | Medium Anne And The Pirate · Anne knew nothing would be the same when she and her father set sail to the New World. A story of…medium.com

Anne, who had never experienced weather other than the perpetual chill of Scotland, found summer in the Caribbean to be unbearable.

Anne lived in the kitchen house located a dozen yards away from the main house. This separation was primarily to keep the cooking heat from adding misery to the tropical heat.

During the summer months, Anne’s work began before sunrise. She prepared a quick breakfast from the previous day’s leftovers and then Mr. Bonny and the men set out to work in the fields. Anne then began cooking breads, pies, and other foods requiring heat before the sun turned the entire kitchen into an oven. At one o’clock in the afternoon, when the sun’s heat peaked, the men returned and ate the major meal of the day. Everyone then rested on the shaded porch for two hours during the hottest part of the day. For the next two hours, the men did the less strenuous tasks of caring for the animals and other needs within the barn and the garden while Anne cleaned the house and completed the laundry.

Once the worst heat of the day had passed, the men returned to the fields. Twice a week, Anne went with the men and spent two hours clearing away rocks from the new field. The rest of her time was occupied with cleaning her kitchen and preparing a light meal for supper. At sunset, the men returned from the fields to eat.

The highlight of the day was their cool baths before bedtime. Anne filled the tub and bathed the three youngest children first, and then she bathed herself. Mr. Bonny and his son then had their turns; she didn’t know what the other men working on the plantation did to clean themselves.

The separation of the kitchen also reduced the fire hazard should the cooking fires get out of control. Anne, having spent so much time cooking on a ship, was experienced in controlling the kitchen fires. In addition to spending many hours a day in the kitchen with the food preparation, Anne also slept on the floor of the small, stone building. The stone floor cooled her in the evening and with the pallet provided by Mr. Bonny, Anne slept well.

Anne counted the slow passage of the days and remained sad with her lot in life. She continued to miss her brother Daniel and Papa; she even missed the pirate Jack. However, as with her time serving Jack, once she got into the farm life routine she was not exactly an unhappy woman.

The oldest of Mr. Bonny’s children, his son Jean, usually worked with his father. The boy was two years younger than Anne, but she had little interaction with him. She simply cleaned his clothes and cooked his meals. The middle two children, both girls, were taught how to run a house while they helped Anne with her own chores. The youngest boy required watching as did any four-year old. She grew fond of the family and frequently thought about life married to Mr. Bonny when her labor contract ended. There were few other prospects on the island, all of them farmers. And, there appeared to be no way for her to leave the island.

Once she was freed, she could work in a shop or as a servant, but it would take a lifetime to save enough money to buy passage to England. While she could work aboard ship as a crewmember — a cook — for her passage, no captain would ever consider hiring a convicted pirate. Thus, she was stuck on the island for the rest of her life.

Anne had written letters to Papa and Aunt Margret, and sent these on an eastward bound ship. She wrote them that she was stranded, but living safely on the Ile de la Tortue. Her letters did not mention her conviction. She hoped one of the letters would find its destination. Anne had no idea where Papa was living. There was no reason for him to return to Glasgow, so he was probably sailing the Matilda out of Liverpool. If a letter found its way to Aunt Margaret, she would know how to reach him. Anne held tightly to the thought that some miracle would occur. Papa would find her. But, at year’s end she would marry Mr. Bonny.

Anne froze as a grimace appeared on her face. The odd knot of muscles once again tightened around the empty hole in the core of her belly.

Jack, oh Jack, I do forgive you. May God accept your soul as you did not intend for any harm to come to me.

After four months on the island, when October rolled around, Anne silently commemorated the one year anniversary of her last sight of Glasgow, Scotland.

“That’s my father’s book!”

Anne looked up to see Mr. Bonny standing in the doorway. He had caught her in a moment of relaxation, reading the only book in the house, the King James Bible.

“You can read that?” he asked, when she made no response.

“Oui,” she said. He had not been expected home for several hours and she hoped this would not raise an ire with him. He had not been a slave driver, but he did not know about the time she spent reading.

“That book is written in English. You read English?” He did not sound mad, more astonished.

“Oui, I was educated by an English governess. While I cannot read French, I can speak and read English.” One day, she was going to have to tell him that she was not French. He was also of Scottish descent. Therefore, she expected he would be accepting of her — after he punished her for lying.

“Read to me.”

She began reading Matthew’s Gospel.

“Non, translate it into French. I don’t speak English.”

The translation from English to French slowed her down a bit, but she continued, “After Herod died, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, ‘Get up, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel…”

“My father could read that. He used to read to the family every night.” He wiped a tear. “Could you do that? Could you read from the Good Book to us in the evenings?”

“Oui.”

“Come, there is something I’ve been meaning to do.” He took her right hand. Reflexively, she scooped up the ball with her left hand. He led her outside and into the barn. “Put your foot there.” She leaned against a post, balanced on her right leg, and propped her left foot on the anvil. Taking a chisel and hammer, he pounded on the chain link attached to the metal cuff. After ten whacks, the metal broke.

She was free of the ball and chain.

“Merci!”

“Don’t get any crazy ideas. You are still bound by the contract not to run away.”

“Of course!” She tested walking on her newly freed foot. She tested running. She ran out of the barn and then in circles. He stood in the barn door and watched her play, skipping. His two daughters heard the commotion and joined with Anne in a game of chase.

“Merci,” she cried again, when she tired. And then she kissed him.

What other rules can we break?

A month later, Anne was in the kitchen house baking a cake to celebrate her eighteenth birthday when Mr. Bonny’s youngest daughter interrupted, “There’s a soldier here.”

“Uh-huh”

“Honest, a soldier looking for Papa. Mr. Lagarde has gone to fetch him.”

Anne stopped her work. “What did the soldier say?”

“Just that he wanted to see Papa. Well, he said Mister Bonny.”

Anne peered out the door; she saw a horse tied to the porch railing, but nothing else.

“A French soldier or a Spanish one?” The Spanish on Hispaniola occasionally raided the smaller island, harassing the French settlers.

“I don’t know the difference. He had a coat with lots of bright buttons, a tall hat, and a sword. And he has a pistol too.”

Anne peeked out the door again. “Where is your sister?”

“Over there.” The girl pointed to the back of the barn.

“Get her and bring her here. Tell her not to make any noise.” When the girls arrived, she put them in the back of the pantry. “Stay here, and don’t make a sound. Don’t move from this spot until either I or your papa comes to get you. There will be a leather strap across your bottom if you disobey.” Glancing at the floor, she saw that the toddler was still napping.

Anne crept to the back of the house. She listened at the backdoor, but heard nothing. Inching into the back room, she pushed one eye around the corner to see into the front room. He was not in the house; he was on the front porch. She couldn’t see much of him through the window, but it was a British Naval uniform. He had a cutlass and two pistols.

British! How can that be?

She crept back to the kitchen house.

“Girls,” she said to the air, “I’m still here, but I want you two to stay hidden. I don’t know what this means. Perhaps, there is nothing wrong and the soldier is a friend of your papa. But, stay quiet and stay put.”

Anne also stepped out of sight.

Twenty minutes later, she heard the clomping hooves of more horses on the soft earth.

Is it Mr. Bonny returning, or more soldiers?

Anne hid for five more minutes, and then peered out into the yard. Mr. Lagarde, the overseer, was in the front of the barn holding his and Mr. Bonny’s horses. He appeared concerned, but not afraid.

“What are you doing?” Startled, Anne saw Mr. Bonny walking toward her from the back of the house.

“I was… afraid that something bad might be happening.”

“I don’t think he is dangerous, but he wants to talk with you. What is this about?”

“I don’t know.”

Papa sent the Navy to rescue me?

“The girls are in the back of the pantry. I told them to stay still and quiet.”

“Leave them. Come with me.”

They entered the back of the house. Anne’s heart raced. The man was now in the front room. Anne clutched her chest in an effort to control her breathing. His hands were clasped behind his back as he stared out the front window.

“Captain, this is my ward, Mademoiselle Anne Mckinnon. Now will you kindly tell me, what is the meaning of this?”

The man turned around.

“JACK!”

This is not THE END of Anne’s adventure. Is Jack here to rescue her? Or, to re-capture her?

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Copyright ©2026 by S. M. Revolinski All Rights Reserved

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