Graeme bristled at the implication and slapped Bruce’s hand away before he was near enough to touch her. “That is out of the question. She’s here to work.”
“Aye, but there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun while we’re at it. I like having myself a blonde wench now and then.”
His comment caused the men to snicker and lick their lips in wanting as they grew ever closer.
Elspeth pulled away from them and barked, “Dinnae touch me!”
Graeme drew his sword and stepped in front of her. “Ye heard the lass. She’s nae fer being had. As I told ye before, the lass is our surgeon—that means she kens how to wield a knife. Unless ye plan on being on the wrong end of her blade, I suggest ye treat Elspeth with respect. Anyone who dinnae oblige, risks losing an appendage. Am I understood?”
The men grumbled in acknowledgement and made their way back toward the ship. Elspeth stepped out from behind him with a thousand questions in her eyes. He didn’t know if it was fear, or gratitude, but when their gazes connected the entire world slowed to a crawl.
Seamus interrupted Graeme’s thoughts when he approached them. “Dae the lass have any belongings I need to secure?”
Elspeth shyly handed him her chest of tools and stepped on board the ship to find a seat among the ropes.
Graeme sighed at her departure and Jack approached him, saying, “The men are getting restless, Captain. They’re anxious to hear about yer plans, and now ye bring a lass on board? What exactly are ye trying to accomplish?”
“I have a plan,” he responded crisply.
Jack scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Aye, because women simplify everything. It makes perfect sense.”
Graeme rolled his eyes at him. “I dinnae have a choice, Jack. Anyways, there’s nothing I can do about it now. It’s best we move on.”
Jack nodded. “I’ll do my best to keep the men in line, but ye’d be wise nae to push them any harder than ye have to.”
The hint of a smile played at the corner of Graeme’s lips. “Thank ye fer yer concern, Jack, but I’m nae worried.”
Graeme turned back to face the crew and climbed on top of a wooden post where everyone could see him. He addressed them all again, saying, “Men, I understand ye’re hungry. Some of ye are getting frustrated and miss yer wives and children. Fer that, I cannae blame ye.”
There was a murmur of assent before he continued.
“I have word of a merchant vessel traveling south off the coast of Wales—the Josefina. My contact informs me they’re transporting weapons from Spain. Ye ken what that means—Spanish steel. The value of their hold exceeds three times our annual income. If ye sail with me to take it, we can each have a share in the profits. It will be hard, I will nae pretend otherwise. If ye’d rather return home I will nae stop ye. It’s the easier path nae to leave the safety of Scottish waters. Decide now among yerselves, who is with me.”
The crowd erupted in a roar of hooting and hollering as Graeme smiled to himself. “So be it. They are a day and a half ahead of us, meaning we’ll have to set course right away to catch them.”
Alistair snickered once the men burst into action. “Ye dog,” he teased. “Ye could have told me about yer plan from the beginning. I would have helped, I could have smoothed things over fer ye.”
Graeme sighed. “Dinnae get yer hopes up yet, Alistair. We haven’t any idea what the value of those weapons will be, and it’s a risk going after her. I can tell them it’s three times our annual income, but that dinnae mean it’s true. We will nae ken until we reach her—men have lied to us before.”
His quartermaster laughed. “I’ve learned to take my chances, Graeme. Yer hunches are never wrong.”
Graeme nodded at the show of faith and unwrapped the ship from where it was tethered to the post. The ship pushed away from the dock and edged out into the open sea. As it took to the water, each of the men took a position at the oars and sat down on the wooden benches. Graeme stood with his head held high and called to them from his place at the front. “All together now. Row!”
The men grunted as their movements synced into a perfect rhythm. The oars slapped into the waves and then propelled the ship forward until the wind had filled their sail. Waves sloshed against the sides of the ship as he glanced back to see Elspeth sitting in an empty space among the footboards. She looked very small and out of place for such a spitfire of a thing. He let out an exasperated sigh and stepped over the benches to her, saying, “Rest while ye can. I understand ye’re new to this, so I’ll give ye a pass fer the night. However, once we set sail be aware that everyone on board this ship is expected to contribute. I told ye there would be nae special treatment, so tomorrow ye’ll be on the oars like everyone else. Ye’re nae above them, and ye need to earn their trust.”
Her eyes narrowed after Graeme laid out his terms. “I understand.”
“It won’t always be like this,” he assured her. “Some days are harder than others. Once ye’ve worked off the debt Angus owes me, I’ll return ye to his care. Until then, consider yerself a member of my crew.”
“More like prisoner,” Elspeth spat.
There it was, the fire he’d been looking for.
Graeme had to conceal his smile when he responded, letting his eyes drift to a darkened freckle on her upper lip that quivered when she spoke. “If that’s how ye choose to look at it. I’ll remind ye though, that ye’re the one who offered to come along. I dinnae force ye.”
“Nae, but ye dinnae give me another choice,” she retorted. “Especially after what ye did to my da.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “And what is that exactly?”
Elspeth balked. “Are ye telling me that it wasn’t yer own handiwork I was sewing up on the side of his face?”
Graeme almost laughed. “Madam, when I left the tavern last night he had nae been touched. Whatever happened after that is nae my concern.”
Elspeth pouted, curling up against the side of the ship.
It wasn’t long before the coast of Oban disappeared into the horizon, and Graeme smiled, knowing victory was close at hand.
Several hours later, they made landfall for the night and dragged the boat ashore on the rocky coastline. Once they’d secured the ship, the men removed the sail from its mast and turned it flat to use as a lean-to tent over the deck. The sturdy material became a rudimentary shelter to protect them from the wind and rain. All of them were tired after the hours at sea and broke into the daily rations.
Graeme’s eyes drifted over to Elspeth while taking a bite of salted pork. Her face was void of all emotion and she seemed to be in a sort of daze. Graeme exhaled heavily through his nose and tore off another piece of meat before engaging the men in conversation.
They stayed up for a couple hours, even after the sun had set, telling stories and laughing with each other. When it grew late, Graeme took off his boots and sat down at the head of the ship. The others settled in to their own corner of the boat and drifted off to sleep. Exhausted as he was, it didn’t take long for him to join them.
Eventually though, he heard Elspeth’s muffled sobs.
Christ. What had he gotten himself into?
Chapter 3
Elspeth woke the next morning with a pounding headache.
Gulls cawed as they flew above the tented canopy and the salty sea breeze ruffled her hair. The horizon was barely visible through the mist, and half a dozen men moved on the deck around her preparing to set sail. Every square foot of space was taken up with one body or another, but the one closest to her was the only one she found familiar—the captain.
“The Captain” is what he’d hence be known as she refused to call him Graeme. She couldn’t imagine addressing a man like that by his Christian name after kidnapping and dragging her from her home to sail with a lawless group of pirates…even if she had reluctantly conceded to the agreement in the first place.
She remembered the look on her brothers’ faces calling after her when she left, it
would haunt her for the rest of her life. Everything that happened since then felt like an awful dream. Yet, here she was, curled up on the deck of a ship with the captain and his crew.
She sat up straight against the side of the boat and let out a tired yawn. The cloak Elspeth had brought with her from home was wrapped around her like a blanket, with the hood pulled up to cover her golden hair. She lowered the cowl from around her face and glanced around carefully before removing the pins still nestled in her braids after being slept in. There was no point in restyling them when she’d be spending most of her time at sea—the wind and water was sure to keep her from appearing as a lady.
Her gaze flickered to the man casting a net into the sea along the shoreline. She didn’t know his name yet, but he had tan, weathered skin and auburn hair that came down below his chin. Wiry, red sideburns edged down the side of his face, covering up a scar all the way to his ear. His jaw was stern, but congenial when he acknowledged her with a nod. There were four other men on the shore with him, all engaged with various tasks. Everyone was working, having divided up the labor among themselves. Some of them had even built a campfire and were sitting on logs to cook their morning breakfast.
“The captain says ye’re a surgeon,” the large, red-haired sailor stated, coming up to her.
Elspeth frowned and merely nodded in response, not knowing how to address these men who were not her kinsmen. Their sideways glances and stiff demeanor didn’t make them seem approachable.
“My name is Alistair, I’m the ship’s quartermaster. Do ye understand what that means?”
She shook her head.
“It means I act as a go-between fer the captain and his crew. I speak fer the men on board when we’re at sea, and the captain listens. The men trust me to have their best interest at heart and to stand up to the captain when it’s needed. In return, the captain expects me to have a respectful crew who complete their tasks in a timely fashion and keep the ship in order.”
“That sounds like a difficult position to be in.”
“At times it can be,” he agreed. “Ye’ll appreciate that more fully the longer ye’re on board. The men on our crew respect me, and they respect the captain—ye, however, will still have to earn their trust.”
“The captain said the same thing to me yesterday. I’ll tell ye the same thing that I told him, I dinnae care what the men here think.”
To her surprise, Alistair chuckled. “Well, ye better start—yer life may very well depend on it. A man cannae survive on the sea alone, he needs a crew if there is any hope of him returning home. Everyone on the ship is equal, including the captain. Everything we collect goes directly to the clan, so there will be nae skimming off the top. We all receive an equal share. We’ve had thieves in our midst before and Laird MacNeil dealt with that swiftly, and in spectacular fashion—ye do nae want to see that happen again.”
“Ye dinnae need to worry about that,” Elspeth told him. “I have nae interest in such things.”
Alistair nodded, tilting his head back toward the shoreline. “Good. Then ye can start by helping me reel in this net and see if we’re able to catch some breakfast.”
Her nose crinkled at the thought of fish so early in the morning but she climbed over the side to do what Alistair asked. The men at the campfire watched her cautiously as she walked across the rocky terrain and began pulling in the net. She had to step over the branches and debris that had been swept in from the tide. Elspeth felt several pairs of eyes watching her as she performed the task, and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach.
Slowly, she turned around to see Graeme staring at her with amusement from one of the seats around the campfire.
I thought he was still asleep, Elspeth thought to herself with a frown. He must have gotten up while I was helping Alistair.
Her stomach fluttered at the thought of him watching her every move. Something about his eyes, and the way his lips moved when he was speaking, compelled her. His long, black hair fell down on the side of his face, unbound and blowing in the summer breeze. Though she hated to admit it, the captain was intrinsically attractive. With his dark hair and stormy gray eyes, Elspeth was sure many lasses had fallen all over themselves to be with him.
Graeme’s appearance would have no bearing on her though, even if his mere proximity was enough to make her heartbeat quicken. A handsome face was not enough to make up for tearing apart her family.
She set her jaw determinedly and turned back toward the net. She and Alistair managed to haul in the fish and skewer them, so they could be cooked and ready to eat. After the fish had been placed on the campfire, and prepared with a bit of salt, Elspeth settled down into one of the seats and pulled the cloak up around her shoulders. They supplemented the meal with some of their daily rations and Seamus handed out pieces of salted pork and bannock, which she accepted with a nod. The basket of food went around the circle and everyone got to eat while the fish were cooking.
Elspeth nibbled on her stale bannock and listened to them talk. She had no appetite for food after what had happened the day before. The weight of leaving her family was beginning to make her homesick. Her body was sore, and she was exhausted both emotionally and physically. Yet, she couldn’t help but be entranced by the exotic world they spoke of. The lives these men led were indeed fantastic, full of adventure and mystery. Never in a million years did she ever think she’d find herself living with them, sharing the same meal, and sleeping on the same ship.
Everyone was in a rush, eating the food fast as they could to get a start on the day of travel. Graeme caught their attention and stood up on the higher ground where everyone could see him, saying, “Prepare to set sail, men. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
The men grunted in response, finishing the rest of their morning meals.
They untied the sail from its use as a tent and returned it to the position on the mast. Elspeth watched them make the change, Alistair and the others appearing to have done this a hundred times before. She would have assisted them, but with so many hands already working the rope it seemed like she would just be in the way. Even so, she imagined if there’d been more than one sail the job would have gone much differently.
With the sail in place, the ship was ready to be carried out to sea. The men waded out into the water, dragging the ship behind them and when it broke free from the waves they jumped inside. Elspeth clasped the hand of one of the sailors and pulled herself up onto the ship.
“Congratulations, Miss MacDougall. Ye’ve survived yer first night at sea,” Alistair told her with a grin.
The men all chuckled at her expense and she felt her cheeks get hot from the unwanted attention. Elspeth ducked her head while clasping her hands together and hoped that no one noticed.
“Man yer oars,” Alistair commanded from the rear. “Today we hunt the Josefina.”
The crew cheered as they settled into their stations, sitting two to a bench, and gripped the handles of their oars. She took an empty seat on one of the benches with an elderly sailor and placed her hand on the oar along with him, imagining it would be easy enough to imitate what the other men were doing and figure the rest out along the way.
How hard could it be? she thought.
In the moments before they shoved off, Elspeth rolled up her sleeves and returned her hands to the oar. The sailor she was supposed to be rowing with already had his hands on the wooden instrument, and together they dipped it over the side of the ship into the murky water.
“Row!” Alistair commanded.
The men surrounding her all moved together, completing the repetition like it was second nature to them. As the man next to her pulled back on the oar she was caught off guard and released an audible gasp. He cast her a wary glance before returning the tool to its original position.
“Row!” Alistair called again, and the rhythm of the oars continued.
She fumbled with the wooden instrument, this time pulling it towards herself in alignment with her companion. The
surface was slick and felt strange within her hand, but Elspeth managed to find the rhythm of the rest of the crew.
The long, wooden ship crested with the waves and sent bile rising up her throat. Each shaky stroke of the oar aggravated her tender stomach. Whether she was the one moving it, or her companion, the rocking back and forth made her stomach churn. Elspeth didn’t want the men to think she was weak, so she gripped the handle and tried again.
“Is there a problem, Miss MacDougall?” Graeme demanded.
Elspeth grit her teeth and shook her head, embarrassedly. “Nae.”
“Glad to hear it. Let’s try again, all together now. Row!”
She set her jaw with determination and readjusted her grip on the oar, the wood cutting into her palm. The man sitting next to her was patient and waited until the next count before lifting the oar in time so she could join them. It wasn’t long before her arms were sore and her back ached from the strenuous, repetitive motion.
A sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead and she felt faint. Pressure rose from her stomach and Elspeth knew it was going to come whether she wanted to or not. She leaned over the edge of the ship and heaved out the contents of her stomach.
The foul taste of bile lingered on her lips and she spat the rest of it into the sea. Her hand gripped tightly on the ship’s side as she wretched again. It was all she could do to keep from passing out and causing greater injury to herself. The men groaned when they saw her struggling, which caused a new wave of embarrassment inside her.
“There’s nothing to see,” Graeme barked from his place at the front. “Just keep to yer oars.”
Elspeth cringed at the sound of his voice, knowing he’d seen it too. The dry heaves came up on her again and she panted heavily. Her chest was still convulsing from the force of her sea sickness and she closed her eyes for a moment. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes when she turned around to grip the oar again. She shoved it forward with renewed determination and joined the men at their task.
Captured Hearts and Stolen Kisses Page 126