The Blond Devil of the Sea: The Highland Ladies Book Three

by Barclay, Celeste

  Chapter Twenty

  Rowan watched Alane leave the cave, forcing himself to wait until she was past the entrance so none of her men would notice him. He slipped from behind the same boulder where he’d watched Alane enter the cavern. He’d arrived after the attackers emptied the wagon. He couldn’t tell who rode in the back, but it was obvious it was people rather than cargo. He prayed Caragh was within the cave and that if she was, they hadn’t taken her there to be buried. He stepped in front of Alane as she walked to her horse. The woman’s face went slack, as if she saw a ghost.

  “Thought I was dead? Hoped for it?”

  “Rowan? What’re you doing here?”

  “Alane, you’re the least innocent woman I’ve ever met. Don’t play so, it only makes you look simple.” Rowan took a menacing step forward. “Where is my wife?”

  His quiet voice made the hair on Alane’s neck stand up.

  “I’d answer quickly, so we can begin your slow death.”

  “Rowan, why would you kill me? I don’t know where your wife is. Has she turned you that far against me? We have far more history than you do with her. We have a connection that runs deeper than anything you could’ve formed in a moon’s time. You loved me once, remember?”

  “I never loved you, Alane. I thought for a moment that I did, but you killed any chance of that when you sold Ruairí and me into indenture. You were thighs and an arse to spread when I wanted a good tumble. I bedded you because you like it rough, and it was an opportunity for me to push you to the limits of what you could endure, just as you did to me and to Ruairí. The only connection we had was money. I don’t need you for that, and I don’t want you for anything else. What I do want is my wife.”

  Alane tried to draw away and opened her mouth, but Rowan’s hand landed across her cheek before she could say anything.

  “You have only a moment to choose how you die. Tell me where she is, and I slit your throat. Lie to me or remain silent, and I shall cut off each of your fingers, then each of your toes before I hack off your breasts and feed them to you. Test me, Alane. I dare you. Learn what manner of man you turned me into. Learn why they call me the Blond Devil. I’d relish the opportunity.” Rowan grabbed a fistful of her auburn hair and shook her until her teeth clacked together. “Where is she, Alane? Speak.” She shook her again, but she remained silent. “Very well.”

  He dragged her to the boulder nearest him and pulled her hand to it. He sliced her sleeve and shoved the material into her mouth. He pinned her against the rock as his dirk took one finger after the next. When he’d finished with her hand, he paused.

  “Nod if you’re ready to tell me where she is.”

  When Alane did nothing but whimper behind the gag, he pulled her other hand.

  “Perhaps I won’t need to cut off your toes and tits. You seem to bleed well enough already. Perhaps taking the last of your fingers will be enough to leave you for dead. If not, the animals shall smell you and come to eat you alive.” Rowan leaned his head to the side as if contemplating such an outcome. “I rather like that idea better.”

  He laid her hand against the rock, but Alane shook her head and tried to gesture in the cave's direction. He pulled the gag from her mouth. “Speak now, and I’ll spare you.”

  “She’s in the cave.”

  Rowan didn’t wait another moment, but slid his blade across her throat. “I lied,” he said as he stepped over her and the pile of fingers that laid next to her now-dead body.

  Rowan ran to the cave and took in the scene before him. Keith and Skinny each fought one of Alane’s hired thugs. A man stood over Caragh, prepared to strike her again with his fist. Other men fought further back in the cave, but he didn’t care once he found his wife tucked into a tight ball trying to protect her belly. Rowan’s roar echoed through the cave as he hurtled towards the man who looked up from Caragh. The shock registered on the man’s face just as Rowan’s sword cleaved him in half. He then spun and ran through the man who fought Keith. He threw Keith his sword as he scooped Caragh into his arms. He ran outside with her and looked for a place to settle her. He went to the bed of the wagon and eased her onto the wood.

  “Mo Caragh, can you hear me, my love? Caragh?” Rowan’s voice broke on each word as he stroked the hair back from her face. He had to look away and breathe through his nose to keep from throwing up when he saw the damage done to her face and neck.

  He climbed onto the wagon next to her and rolled her onto her back. He checked behind him to be sure they were alone before he pulled her gown up. He didn’t see any bruising or signs of a struggle on her thighs, so he prayed they hadn’t raped her. He noticed yellow bruises on her belly, but he could tell they were several days old. He rolled her away him and continued his inspection. Tears stung his eyes as he found the bruises that mottled the back of her thighs, her bottom, and as much of her back as he could see without undressing her. There was swelling around her ribs, and he suspected the attackers cracked at least one. He was thankful she was unconscious, because the pain would be unbearable.

  “Caragh, mo ghaol, I shall take you away from here. I’ll take you back to the Lady Grace where I can care for you.” He kissed her hairline at one of the few points where there were no marks. He loathed the idea of leaving her for even a moment, so he breathed easier when the five men from his crew emerged from the cave. They walked to the wagon and looked at Caragh, who Rowan had covered again with her gown.

  “They beat her badly, Rowan.”

  “I know, Skinny.” Rowan didn’t trust his voice above a whisper. “I already saw.”

  “She’s never been out of our sight. Beaten, but not assaulted.”

  Rowan nodded as he looked to where Alane’s body lay. Keith walked over, but Rowan’s raspy voice carried. “Leave her to rot. Let the animals pick her apart. She deserves no less.”

  The men climbed into the wagon, and Rowan wrapped his arms around Caragh, trying to keep her from being jostled. No one spoke as they rode back to Oban. Caragh neither moved nor made a sound.

  * * *

  Caragh’s entire body was wracked with pain. She thought she’d never draw another full breath and that she would suffocate as she burned in Hell. She felt the flames licking at her skin. She was sure she’d heard Rowan’s voice, but then it had faded just as everything else did. Something held her tightly, and she couldn’t have moved, even if she had control of her body. She was sure she was entering the gates of Hell as the heat surrounding her scorched her.

  Rowan carried Caragh into their cabin and laid her on the bed. He didn’t know what to do. He was unsure if he should bathe her, leave her dressed, hold her, or pray. He paced in his cabin until he made up his mind. He called for the tub and warm water. He waited until the men filled it before he took his blade and sliced down the front of Caragh’s gown. He painstakingly peeled the sleeves from her arms and let the tears fall unabashedly as he caught sight of the extent of her injuries. Her breasts and stomach were the only places not covered with livid bruises and cuts. Her face was unrecognizable from the swelling. He would have admired her determination to protect their babe, but he was beside himself in seeing how she suffered. He lifted her and carried her to the tub, watching and measuring each step so as not to jostle her. He lowered her into the tub, and while he winced at her moan, it was the first sound she’d made since he found her.

  “Rowan?” He read her lips more than heard her.

  “Aye, mo ghaol. I’m here.”

  “You’re alive,” her lips moved, but only the softest puff of air escaped.

  “I am, and so are you.”

  “Alane?”

  “Dead. I made sure she suffered.” He watched her fingers flex, and he dipped his hand into the water to take hers.

  “I was scared.” She tried harder to make her throat produce sound.

  “Shh, mo Caragh. I was scared, too. Rest, little one. I shall care for you.”

  “Are you hurt, too? Your head?”

  “Nearly healed,�
�� Rowan hedged. She grunted and tried to shake her head before moaning. “Don’t move, Caragh. You’ll hurt yourself more.”

  “Don’t believe you,” she managed.

  “I swear to you. My head is nearly healed. There’s a scab, but you know head wounds bleed profusely even when it’s a slight cut.”

  “Your father. Thought you, too.”

  Rowan understood her and squeezed his eyes closed, thankful she couldn’t see his tears. “I have too much to live for. I’m not leaving your side again.”

  “Mmm.”

  Rowan waited, but he realized she’d fallen asleep. He preferred to think it was sleep than her slipping back into unconsciousness, which terrified him. He bathed her and then slipped one of his leines onto her. He had no choice but to call Keith to help him. He hated anyone seeing his wife’s body, but he couldn’t support her and bind her ribs at the same time. Keith slipped into the cabin and waited as he took in Rowan’s tear-stained face and Caragh’s unconscious form. He wisely remained silent.

  “She has at least one broken rib. I can’t hold her up and wrap her ribs at the same time. I don’t want to lie her down, then shuffle her about as I try to slide the bandage beneath her over and over. I’ll sit with her in my lap. I need you to support her head and shoulders while I bandage her ribs.”

  Keith nodded and moved into position. Once he was sure he had hold of Caragh, he squeezed his eyes shut. Rowan might have hugged the man if he wasn’t in such a rush to get Caragh settled and into their bed. He worked with haste as he ran his fingers over her ribs. She winced and whimpered, but to Keith’s credit, he didn’t open his eyes, even though Rowan noticed his first mate winced in sympathy. Rowan made quick work of his task and pulled the leine back down to cover Caragh. He pulled Caragh back into his arms, and Keith let go. Keith opened his eyes but averted his gaze as Rowan laid her on the bed and covered her with only a linen. He didn’t want too much weight pressing down on her. Rowan looked at Keith, and his first mate shook his head.

  “You don’t want to know. Skinny was telling the truth when he said no one raped her. Just leave it at that.”

  “I can’t. I have to know what happened.”

  “Rowan, she wouldn’t want you to know. The men responsible for her injuries are all dead. Alane is carrion as we speak. Tend to your wife. There’s nothing else that can be done.”

  Rowan shook his head. “I never want to have to ask her what happened, but I must know. I must know, so I can be prepared to help her. I fear the nightmares she might have. I fear she might lose our bairn. I fear she might not be the same woman as she was before this attack, and I couldn’t blame her. I never should’ve tied her to me. I should’ve listened to you and let her choose to stay with her family.”

  “Rowan, I said to let her choose, and she did. You wouldn’t have been able to leave her behind. She wouldn’t have let you.” Keith ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Very well. I saw you go below deck, but I was being pulled onto the other boat when two men emerged with her. Skinny and the others were already on Alane’s boat. She tried to fight, but the men were much stronger than her. She did what she could to protect herself, and Skinny and I surrounded her. You can see what happened to her. They did most of that in the cave when Alane ordered her dead. You saved her life by showing up when you did. They would’ve beaten her to death otherwise.”

  “Was she awake for most of it?”

  “Do you mean the voyage or the cave?”

  “Both.”

  “She was awake aboard the ship. She was subdued until we hit rough water. Then she was ill again. The crew worried she brought illness with her, but none of us admitted to her condition. We all understood it would only endanger her more. They only gave us a couple bannocks and dried beef each day. We all tried to give her ours, but she refused. I think in part because she couldn’t stomach more, but I suspect she didn’t want to take from any of us what she knew we needed. She was awake when we arrived at the cave. She had words with Alane and even spat on her when we arrived in Oban, but she was quiet when we arrived in the cave. She pulled a dirk from somewhere and gelded the man who tried to attack her. You arrived just after that.”

  Rowan nodded as he watched Caragh and listened to Keith.

  “There’s nothing more to tell. She’s brave, fearless, and the men care for her now that she’s one of us. We were fighting to get her free. None of us worried about ourselves. We wanted her and your bairn to live.”

  Rowan tried to swallow the lump from his throat, but he gave up trying. He nodded once more as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. Keith let himself out of the cabin.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rowan sat vigil beside Caragh for the next two days as she moved only enough to breathe. He struggled to spoon water and broth into her mouth. Her throat seemed to refuse any liquids. He begged her and cajoled, but her body fought him every time. She said his name over and over throughout the days and nights, but nothing more. By the third day, her eyes fluttered open. He’d kept a cold compress on her swollen one, and she looked at him even though her eyes were glassy.

  “Rowan,” she called as she reached for him while he stood by the basin soaking another cloth. He dropped it and was by her side in two steps.

  “Caragh?”

  “Aye. Where are we? Whose boat is this?”

  “Don’t you recognize it? It’s the Lady Grace.”

  “How can that be? I heard them say they would sink it. I saw them toss a torch onto the deck. I felt the cannonball.”

  “Shh,” he hushed her as her voice faded with each word. “I came to after they’d taken you. Someone put out the fire, and it wasn’t a cannonball after all. The other boat rammed us instead. There was minor damage done, but you had a head start, and we weren’t able to catch up to you before you made it to Oban.”

  “You said she’s dead.”

  “She is, mo chridhe.”

  “Mo bhris, did you avenge me?”

  “I did that. No one takes what’s mine without dying for it.”

  She attempted to turn to look at him, but she moaned. He tried to soothe her, but she shook her head. “Lie next to me. I thought I’d never see you again, never touch you.”

  Rowan climbed around her with great care and lay closer to the wall. He supported her as she tried to move closer. “Be still, Caragh. I’ll move to you. You must be in pain, but I don’t know what to do for you. I wish Senga was here. She’d know which of the plants you gathered would ease your pain.”

  “When you get up next time, bring the basket to me,” Caragh requested. Rowan rose to get it now, but she whimpered. He froze. “The only thing I need right now is to feel you next to me. Don’t leave me, don’t let go.”

  Rowan settled back next to her. “I’m never leaving your side again.”

  Caragh tried to laugh and tease him that she would need her privacy, but the pain in her ribs overcame her. She drifted back into the darkness as Rowan laid worrying next to her.

  Caragh awoke in the middle of the night to an intense, deep cramping. She put her hand to her belly, but nothing seemed different. She tried to lay back and breathe through the pain, but it was as if a heavy weight pressed from within her and tried to push all of her innards out. She felt a gush between her legs, and her heart sank. She reached beside her and shook Rowan’s arm.

  “What is it, leannan?”

  “The bairn. I’m losing the bairn,” she broke into sobs as Rowan pulled her into his arms.

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

  “I felt it. I felt the wetness between my legs, and my whole middle is one large cramp. Our bairn, Rowan. I--- Our bairn is dead.” She sobbed as Rowan held her, not knowing what to do. He could see nothing in the dark, but he didn’t dare leave her to find a candle. His hand hovered over her middle as he tried to determine if the leine she wore and the bedding were as wet as she claimed. He touched the soaked fabric of his shirt against her legs and swallowed his groan
. His heart broke for the pain Caragh suffered and the pain of losing their first child.

  Anger built inside of him as he wished he could go back and make Alane suffer more before he killed her. He wanted to be the one who killed each of the men who dared touch his wife. Instead, he held Caragh as she cried until she had no tears left. She lay in his arms whimpering as pain continued to clench her abdomen.

  When first light streamed in through the porthole, Rowan noticed the bloodstained fabric and rushed to tuck a fresh sheet and his plaid around Caragh, so she wouldn’t see it when she awoke. Sometime during the early morning, she’d fallen into a fitful sleep, too exhausted to cry anymore. Rowan slipped from the bed and stepped into the passageway and tripped over Skinny. He hadn’t posted Skinny as a guard, but he was sure the man wouldn’t leave, even if Rowan told him his sentry position was unneeded.

  “Tell Keith we must put ashore. Send him for a physician or midwife. Anyone who knows anything about women and bairns. Tell him to bring the person at knifepoint if he must. I don’t care how they arrive, as long as it’s alive and soon.” Rowan stepped back into the cabin to find Caragh watching him.

  “There’s nothing anyone can do, Rowan. Help me clean up, and I shall be fine. You’ve been down here for days. You need fresh air, and I’m aware you have duties you’ve neglected because of me.”

  “Don’t do that. Don’t push me away, making it sound so practical. I’m not leaving your side until I’m confident you’re fully healed.”