Captured Hearts and Stolen Kisses

by Ceci Giltenan et al.

  Graeme nodded, suddenly interested in what she’d been holding back from him. “Go on, Bess. I’m listening.”

  “One of the sailors passing through mentioned an English treasure ship called the Mary Rose. They planned on taking it themselves, but if ye hurry ye could probably beat them to it. It passes through the port of Lancaster and skirts the western coast of the island, collecting taxes. Through a most ingenious series of events, I came into possession of their schedule. It details what ports of call the ship will make and when, that could come in useful on yer journey.”

  “A ship that size would have an escort to keep it well protected,” he reminded her with a frown. “How do ye propose we get around that?”

  “Rumor has it this particular ship is without a regular escort,” Bess responded. “My contact informed me that because they’re sailing in English waters, the treasury assumes the ships are safe.”

  Graeme’s eyes twinkled at the prospect of catching such an elusive prize. “Interesting…”

  “Aye, it is,” his aunt agreed. “From what I hear, Queen Elizabeth is anxious to receive her gold and taxes, since they will be used to finance her war. It stands to reason the English coffers have been significantly depleted due to her recent efforts and are in desperate need of coin. I think it would be most unfortunate if she were to lose such a valuable asset, especially if those funds were to go to Clan MacNeil instead.”

  Graeme nodded, mulling over the risk within his head. “Most unfortunate indeed. Where is this schedule ye speak of?”

  Bess pulled out a folded sheet of parchment from behind the bar and set it on the table between them. Graeme picked it up and glanced over the ports of call to form a picture in his head. As he was reading, Bess reached out to place her hand on top of his.

  “Please, be careful. I ken that look in yer eye and it never bodes well. Just because the rumors claim the vessel is without an escort does nae necessarily mean it’s true. What if ye make it down there and the Mary Rose is armed with cannons? It could be a trap. Yer ships are nae made to withstand cannon fire and I dinnae want ye putting yerself in harm’s way without just cause.”

  “If I dinnae go after her then someone else will. It’s only a matter of time before the rumors spread and I lose my chance fer good.”

  “At least make a contingency plan,” she pleaded. “The minute ye catch wind of something amiss, I want ye to call the whole thing off. Ye’re already two men down without Jack and Iain, that’ll making taking her even more difficult.”

  He nodded absentmindedly, still looking at the parchment in his hand. “Aye. We’ll be careful, Bess. If there’s sign of an escort, or we run into trouble, I’ll make sure to get us home alive.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  ~ * ~

  The wind blew lazily through the sail as Graeme gazed out toward the sea. He could hear the waves cresting along beside them as the men behind him rowed to open water. Kisimul was barely visible in the distance now that they’d left the harbor and the rolling hills of Barra wrapped around it on the blue horizon. His thoughts were a mix of excitement and fear, not knowing what they would find when they arrived in English waters. Bess’ tip about the Mary Rose was too good for them not to try, but it presented a substantial risk.

  As Graeme pondered a few ideas of how to mitigate the danger, Alistair walked up behind him.

  “What are yer orders, Captain? Ye were oddly quiet as we set off.”

  Graeme sighed, knowing he couldn’t keep it from them much longer. He walked forward to the bow of the ship and addressed the entire crew. “Listen up, men. Today we sail fer the Isle of Man.”

  There was a murmur of confusion as they continued rowing.

  “The Isle of Man? What in blazes fer?” one of the men demanded.

  Graeme pulled out the sheet of parchment and said, “I have in my hand the schedule fer an English treasure ship, one who is supposedly sailing along the coast of Lancaster without an escort. Being that is the case, I plan to intercept her along the way before Queen Elizabeth can send reinforcements.”

  Seamus grunted as he manned the oars. “It’s a risk, Graeme. Are ye sure we can take her?”

  The captain frowned and stepped down off his bench. “Nae. I cannae be sure about anything regarding this excursion. However, we’ll proceed with caution and strike if the opportunity presents itself.”

  Alistair’s brow furrowed with concern. “And what is yer plan otherwise? What ship will we seek after then?”

  “There will be an entire coast, filled with merchants and other vessels. We’ll survey the territory when we get there and make our decision then.”

  The quartermaster sighed as the men continued to row. “I hope ye ken what ye’re doing.”

  Graeme nodded, walking over to an empty seat. He knew Alistair was right to be concerned, but it was too great an opportunity not to try. There were many obstacles to consider along the way and he could not afford to be distracted by doubts. Yet, even as he was going over the plan in his mind, Graeme’s eyes landed on Elspeth at the oars. Her blonde hair had gotten lighter, and her skin was a lovely, sun-kissed tan which appealed to him more than any pale-as-a-ghost lady. Even the labor on the ship had strengthened her arms and torso so she was lean and toned.

  She was a beauty to behold.

  He thought about their kiss the night before, and the feel of her lips against his, wanting so many things he hardly knew how to separate them.

  At that moment, Elspeth turned as if she could sense his gaze on her and caught him staring. Their eyes locked from across the deck, but instead of turning away like he expected her to, she smiled at him and her cheeks became a rosy pink. The beauty mark above her lip called to him, simply begging to be kissed.

  Damn, that’s attractive, he cursed to himself internally. What was this woman doing to him? She was the best possible kind of distraction, happening at the worst time.

  The memory of her body pressed against him rose a desire within him that would not be ignored, it was persistent, and Graeme was forced to look away until it subsided.

  Bess was right again.

  They sailed for many hours until the sun began to set, and then rowed to the nearest coast. After they’d pulled the ship ashore to camp for the night, Graeme and the others hauled down the sail. Converting the material into a makeshift tent over the deck was a practiced art and took them little to no time to get squared away. The shelter it provided was comforting in a way and helped to protect them from the rain while they were sleeping.

  Alistair retrieved a lantern from the compartment beneath his seat and lit the candle to light their way. Once their shelter was secure, the men climbed inside and pulled out their daily rations. As they were eating, Bartholomew hummed a mournful tune and filled the entire camp with music. When the others finished, they joined in song as well in a long lulling round. There wasn’t a lot of material for artistic expression on a ship, and a man with that bent in him often had to make do with his voice.

  “One day as I was on the misty mountain,

  MacNeil’s Galley was passing at great speed.

  On board were two sons of John MacPherson,

  Big Murdo from the head of the clachan

  And fair young Roderick, the heir,

  Coming from the Land of the MacLean

  Going to Kisimul of the mirth.

  Where there will be feasts and wine from night till day.”

  It was common for the crew to sing shanties while they were rowing to keep pace and pass the time. Elspeth seemed entranced by it all, having attempted to join in on some of the choruses during the day. It was pleasant to have a woman’s voice among them for a change. After the songs died down and some of the men had gone to bed, he shifted over to where she sat and tried to engage her in conversation.

  “Ye have a pleasant singing voice,” Graeme told her softly. “I think I could listen to it all night and nae even notice time had passed.”


  “Thank ye.”

  He reached up to brush one of her curls behind her ear and smiled. “I would like to find out one day, but tonight I’m tired and in desperate need of sleep.”

  Elspeth chuckled, glancing out at the drizzling rain and said, “Me as well.”

  Graeme settled in beside her and asked, “Would ye like to join me?”

  She bit her lip in thought and then looked up at him and nodded. “Aye.”

  He put his arms around her shoulder and she rested her head against him while pulling up the cloak around them. He let out a contented sigh and repositioned them against the side.

  A smiled played across her lips and she laid her cheek against the fabric of his shirt and breathed in deeply. With his arms around her, they both drifted off to sleep, knowing soon they would face another battle.

  Chapter 17

  Coast of Lancaster, 1547

  “Sails!”

  When the call rang out Graeme rushed to the edge of the deck, calling back over his shoulder, “What’s their heading?”

  “About ten leagues away. South-southwest.”

  He searched the horizon until he found the patch of sail. It was bigger than the last ship they had taken on a raid, but there was no sign of any cannons. A ship from the English treasury was sure to carry a hefty sum. With their current speed, the birlinn could easily take her within an hour. The English sea-dogs wouldn’t even know what hit them.

  A grin spread across Graeme’s face as he told his men, “Keep yer speed, lads. We cannae afford to let this one get away.”

  “Is it the one we’ve been after?” Iain asked.

  “Aye, the carrack appears to be the Mary Rose. I dinnae see any cannons and there was nae sign of an escort, exactly as I predicted.”

  “What’s the plan then?”

  “We’ll catch up with her before she makes port in Liverpool and lay siege on open waters. It’s best if we dinnae linger too long, otherwise another ship might come our way. Ye can never be too sure about sailing in English waters.”

  “Ye heard him, lads. Row!” Alistair bellowed from the rudder.

  The men went to work behind him, pulling their oars as hard as they could. Graeme felt a thrill of excitement, so close to achieving victory, when his eyes flickered to where Elspeth was seated amongst his men. Her gaze was focused on the sea ahead and her face was void of all emotion when she helped slap the oar into the water. She did not even look at him, but he noticed her jawline tense. To his relief, she still had the pistol issued to her last time. He could see it holstered to her waist.

  Her expression gave him pause, as did the thought of seeing her in battle—she was still new to their way of life. He didn’t want to think about what could happen to her if things went badly. Once the fighting started, he wouldn’t be able to protect her. Everything happens so fast in the heat of battle, it would be impossible to keep track of her. Elspeth had become dear to him over the past few weeks and ever since they kissed, his feelings had only grown stronger. She was more than a member of his crew, he was also responsible for her safety.

  With a sigh he stepped over to where she was seated. Her eyes flickered in his direction once he knelt down to have a word.

  “Ye ken what’s about to happen?” he asked her calmly.

  “Aye, it will be like last time.”

  Graeme shook his head and frowned. “Nae, much much worse—the stakes are higher. The English are nae going to surrender their gold willingly, which means there will be more bloodshed.”

  Elspeth glanced at her bench-mate, then took a break from rowing. She turned to look Graeme in the eyes, saying, “I want to go with ye then. I’d be more useful when the men are injured once I board the other ship.”

  “Absolutely not. Ye’re nae ready to be part of the vanguard, their men would gut ye in an instant. Stick to our ship and make sure Seamus gets all the help he needs. Have yer tools ready in case someone gets hurt again. Can ye do that fer me?”

  “What if I’m nae able to save them this time?”

  He sighed and placed his hand on her shoulder before looking her in the eyes. “I have faith in ye. I ken ye’ll do everything ye can, just remain calm and dinnae let the fighting startle ye. Make sure yer head is in the right place in case something happens. ‘Tis the best thing ye can do fer us right now.”

  She pursed her lips together and nodded as the waves crashed against the side of their ship. Elspeth turned away and turned her attention back to rowing. Graeme wished there was something more he could say to comfort her. He hated knowing she was upset and longed to run his fingers through Elspeth’s golden hair and kiss her lips, but there was no time. Once they returned to the Barra he’d have time to make it up to her, but right now he had to focus. With a frustrated sigh, he stepped around her bench-mate and went over to the mast to see how they were travelling.

  Their ship was approaching the Mary Rose at an impressive speed, they’d be on top of them in no time. He could feel the wind beating hard against their sail and the crew rowed on with all their strength. “Steady men, we’ll get our chance,” he told them.

  His crew was thirsty for this win, he could feel it in the air around them. Victory was so close at hand.

  The bow of their ship cut through the water as the waves slapped against them. When it was too late for the Mary Rose to escape, Graeme raised his hand and said, “Prepare to board!”

  Cries of anguish and fear could be heard on the other ship when they came up alongside the Mary Rose. Despite the English crew’s attempt to escape, they were no match for the MacNeil pirates. Graeme’s men threw down their oars and pulled out their weapons from hidden compartments underneath their seats. They threw grappling hooks over the side of the Mary Rose and cheered with excitement as the others tethered the ships together.

  One by one, they climbed up the ropes and made their way over to the Mary Rose. Some of them gripped daggers between their teeth, but others had swords or pistols strapped across their chest to ease the climb. Once they reached the deck of the other ship, chaos broke out between them. The English crew was terrified but ready for a fight, armed with weapons of their own. The MacNeils charged their way over the rails and there was an explosion of musket balls and smoke, sending some of the pirates back down, but the rest threw themselves into the fray. Graeme climbed the rope up the side of the ship himself as they flooded onto the deck, viciously slaughtering anyone who got in their way.

  One of the sailors came running at him and Graeme drew his sword, engaging in melee with an English crewman. He was a better fighter than Graeme expected, actually keeping pace blow-for-blow, careful to keep out of Graeme’s measure. As sailors, they were used to keeping their footing among rocking ships, swinging ropes, and other obstacles but when Graeme lunged to finish his opponent a shot rang out and the man he’d been fighting with collapsed to the deck in a pool of blood.

  Graeme turned around in shock to see Elspeth standing on the edge of the deck with her gun in hand. His eyes narrowed when he saw her, but was also grateful for her support, and lifted his rapier in thanks. She stared at him in horror after realizing what she’d done and turned pale. There was no time for Elspeth to recover after killing her first man, before she was forced to engage again. Graeme knew she would be struggling but he could not go to her as the battle around him raged. Eventually, the English fell or surrendered, and the fighting came to an end.

  Despite their bloody and battered state, some of the crew of the Mary Rose stood tall when Graeme sheathed his sword to join them.

  “This is the vessel of Queen Elizabeth,” one of the English sailors snapped. “She will see you hanged for this. There will be no mercy for pirates in the English court.”

  Graeme chuckled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Well then, it’s a good thing I’m nae English. Yer beloved queen would have us hanged regardless of our profession.”

  The man sneered at him. “English or not, once she’s heard of this treachery, her lad
yship will have no choice but to send a fleet of ships to regain what’s lost.”

  He sighed, cleaning the blood off his rapier blade and said, “Ye must be the captain. I doubt anyone else would have the balls to speak so boldly, especially after they’ve been captured.”

  “I am. Captain William Massey of the Mary Rose. And you are not worthy to lick the scum off my boot.”

  Captain MacNeil smiled at him in amusement. “We’ll see about that. Valan, be a good lad and tie him to the mast. I dinnae want him making any trouble.” As an afterthought he added, “And make sure the rest of them are checked fer weapons, remember what happened to Jack.”

  Captain Massey went pale when Valan and another man lifted him off the ground and dragged him toward the mast. The rest of his surviving crew knelt on the ground and watched as the others cheered. Graeme observed them carrying Captain Massey over to the wooden post and then tying him up with a length of rope.

  “You’re making a terrible mistake,” the man bellowed.

  “I dinnae think so,” Graeme replied. “Ye strike me as a trouble maker, and I’m nae in the mood fer any surprises.”

  Just then, Iain came walking out of the captain’s quarters with a book in his hand and offered it to Graeme. Captain MacNeil took the ledger and opened it to the latest entry. The parchment was distressed from years of use and there were smudges of ink along the side. Where the list of goods was supposed to be written, a few of the pages had been torn out.

  “Where is the rest of the ledger?” he demanded.

  Iain stepped back defensibly and said, “I swear, it was like that when I found it, Captain. I searched everywhere in the cabin and there was nothing.”

  “Perhaps they destroyed them,” Alistair suggested. “’Tis what I would do if our positions were reversed.”

  Graeme frowned. “Ye could be right.”

  He closed the book and sighed, walking over to where Captain Massey was tied up to the mast. “I’m going to give ye one last chance to save yerself. The last three pages of the leger are torn out, what did ye do with them?” he asked the captain angrily.