Highland Hero

by Amanda Scott

  “Would I?” The challenge leaped unbidden to her tongue.

  “Aye, and you would likewise be wiser to obey me and not go anywhere on this ship alone,” he said.

  “Even here, with you, who are charged with my safety?” she murmured.

  His gaze locked with hers. “Especially here, alone, with me.”

  Her lips parted, and an image leaped to her mind of herself in his bed and him touching her, lifting her shift, stroking her bare thigh. Nervously, but with a delicious sense of daring, she continued to look into his eyes, silently.

  Faith, but she was flirting with him! She could feel the strength of the attraction between them as easily as she could sense his anger.

  He caught her by the shoulders, muttering, “If you want a lesson, lass, I’ll teach you one.” Pulling her close, he kissed her hard.

  She did not resist, because her body leaped so fast in its response to him that it startled her. She could feel the heat of his hands through the sleeves of her kirtle, the warmth of his mouth on hers. But there were other sensations, too, familiar and unfamiliar. The strongest flowed from deep inside her, new and delightful.

  She could not recall ever feeling such physical awareness of any man.

  The pressure of his lips eased. But to her astonishment, his tongue pressed against her lips as if it would part them and plunge inside.

  Just then, she heard a sound at the door, and he released her, stepping hastily away just as the door opened and Captain Wolf looked in.

  Marsi fought to keep her composure, taking care not to look at Hawk.

  Wolf said without any sign that he saw aught amiss, “The wind is picking up, Hawk, and shifting to hit us from the west. I’m thinking that Mistress Henrietta may soon need the lass again.”

  As he spoke, the ship rolled so that Marsi reached out to the nearby wall.

  Hawk merely shifted one foot to keep his balance.

  “You seem to have found your sea legs,” Wolf said to him.

  “I’ll do,” Hawk said. “Come along, lass. I’ll see you to the aft cabin.”

  She could still feel the sensation of his lips on hers and felt again the touch of his hand on her inner thigh the previous night. Her body was unnaturally aware of him. It seemed astonishing to her that the man could not tell just by being near her that she had been the girl in his bed.

  Not that she wanted him to know that, ever!

  As Ivor followed her outside and along the gangway, he kept a hand ready to catch her if she missed her step. As they went, he mentally took himself to task for his behavior in the forward cabin. What had he been thinking?

  The urge to kiss her had overwhelmed him. But what a thing to do!

  She was in his charge, so he deserved smacking as much as she or the lad had.

  Wolf would surely have something to say about it. The man was neither blind nor stupid. Nor had he ever hesitated to speak his mind. And he had surely noted her blushes if not Ivor’s own guilty reaction to his untimely entrance.

  To be sure, the minx deserved the lesson. She had flirted with him now and again since she’d opened the nursery door to him that morning. But that was no excuse for his behavior. She had also flirted with Wolf, with the chap who’d helped her aboard, and with the helmsman. If one of them had dared take such advantage…

  Mayhap she was just friendly. But something about her had stirred his interest from their first meeting. Then Wolf had described her as a cozy armful, and the next thing Ivor knew, she was deliberately challenging him.

  He had paid more heed to her manner of speech since Wolf had commented on it, too. And he could easily discern what Wolf had meant. But if she had aped the Queen’s speech and that of her noble companions, would that not be enough to…?

  He nearly shook his head at the half-formed thought. When she had entered just as he was about to give James a well-deserved rebuke or worse for upsetting the chessboard, she had looked more like an avenging fury than a maidservant.

  She had spoken to him curtly then—and as an equal.

  When he had met her in the royal nursery, he had wondered briefly if she might be the lass who had come to his bed the night before. However, that girl had had magnificent long red hair of so rich a color that surely her eyebrows must be the same shade. Marsi’s eyebrows and lashes were so dark as to be almost black. And her cap did not seem large enough to contain so much hair.

  Had she been that woman in his bed, she would doubtless be constantly and acutely aware of the fact, to her more notable discomfiture, whenever she saw him.

  She was much too calm in his presence to have been that lass.

  Also, he had seen a second pallet near the nursery hearth, suggesting that the nursery’s maidservant customarily slept there.

  As for her flirtation, it seemed friendly rather than intentionally alluring. She reminded him of his sister, Catriona, when she flirted with cousins at clan gatherings, something that Cat had done impulsively, too, before wedding Fin Cameron.

  In any event, the lass in his bed was not one he was likely to meet again. Nor was there anything particularly memorable about her that he could recall, other than her long legs, lush hair, and the way she had seemed to change from a fantasy to a real woman while he made love to her. He also remembered the silken nature of her skin. Otherwise, she was no more than a figment of a very odd dream.

  Were it not for the bruise on his cheek and two bruised fingers that, from time to time, still reminded him of her, he would not spare her another thought.

  The young woman twitching her hips ahead of him as she hurried along the gangway was another matter. He was sure that she had lied to him. He had recognized certain signs that told him so, but he could not be sure which of her comments had been lies and which were true.

  When he did catch her in a lie, as he would if she continued the practice, she would quickly learn the danger of lying to him.

  She picked up her skirts to step down off the gangway, then went straight to the aft cabin and entered it. Before she could shut the door, Ivor put a hand out to stop it and said, “Is Mistress Henrietta awake?”

  “I am, sir, aye,” the woman called from inside. “I hope our Marsi has no been a trial to you, nor James either.”

  Despite the track that his thoughts had taken as he’d followed Marsi along the gangway, he had seen James sitting on a bench between two large oarsmen, holding their oar when he could reach it and bending forward and back as the men did. Knowing that the boy was content, Ivor said confidently as he entered the cabin, “You need not concern yourself, mistress. I’m glad to hear you sounding better.”

  “I am feeling better, too, sir. But the way this boat be rolling about, I think I should stay where I am if I may.”

  “Aye, sure. They have shifted the sail to take advantage of the increasing wind. Unless it shifts again, I expect we’ll make landfall in good time. Also, when we turn eastward, we’ll have the wind behind us, so the ship will not roll so much.”

  “May we know where we are to make landfall, sir?” she asked.

  He nodded. “ ’Tis a clachan called Milton, not far from Dumbarton Castle.”

  “I ken Milton well,” Mistress Henrietta said. “See you, sir, I was raised near the town of Drymen. I expect we’ll be traveling through there, will we not?”

  He eyed her searchingly. “Why do you say that?”

  She smiled. “Good lack, sir, if you were meaning to go east, we’d land at Glasgow and take the Stirling road. If ye’d meant to travel to the upper glens, which to my mind would be unreasonable with winter still upon us, we’d make landfall west of the river Leven. As it is, we’ll likely go through the Vale of Leven to the south end of Loch Lomond, northeast to Drymen, Doune, and eastward.”

  “So you know where we are headed, do you?”

  “I believe so,” she said. “I suspected it when his grace told me to pack James’s things. See you, I ken fine that her grace expressed fear for his safety, and I know who else was presen
t. Mayhap I shouldna say…”

  Hearing a soft gasp, he glanced at the lass and saw that her lips had parted. She was staring at Mistress Henrietta as if she would control the woman’s thoughts.

  Ivor said, “We need not mention names, Mistress Henrietta. We must discuss how we will travel, but I’d liefer we not name our destination or openly discuss our route. My lads will take at least a day or two to catch up with us, because they must rest the horses. I was thinking that you might pose as James’s aunt. We could say that the lass here is your maidservant and that I am escorting you to visit kinsmen.”

  Mistress Henrietta looked thoughtful, and the lass had collected herself.

  But Ivor had already decided that, much as he wanted to know what game the lass was playing, to demand answers from her while they were aboard the galley would be a mistake. Such a scene was not one to play for a shipload of oarsmen.

  Had she represented a threat to James, he might have acted. But as protective of the lad as she was, he doubted that she posed any danger to him.

  Turnberry

  Albany was furious. Having discovered that no one seemed to know where the lady Marsaili Drummond Cargill was, he had likewise learned that the Queen’s other ladies had returned to their homes or had taken service with one or another of his numerous royal siblings. Everyone agreed that the lady Marsaili still resided at Turnberry, but no one could produce her.

  Confronted, the King denied knowledge of her whereabouts. “Sakes, but she must be here,” he declared, frowning. “I dinna ken where else she could be. She has nae family here, nor any friends save our Jamie.”

  “Might she have gone with him?”

  “She lacked my permission to go. And nae one would take a royal ward from Turnberry without my leave, Robbie. Likely, she is avoiding ye and will turn up when ye leave. ’Tis is a big place. But as ye’re here, mayhap ye’ll explain why ye want me to summon Parliament. ’Tis Davy’s right to do that now.”

  “Davy’s three-year provisional term as Governor of the Realm ended on the first of January,” Albany said. “It was by your own command that, after he had held the office for that period, the lords of Parliament would decide if his rule should continue. Even you must admit that he has ruled poorly.”

  “The people love him, Robbie, and he is young yet. He will learn.”

  “Scotland cannot afford his lessons,” Albany retorted. “Almost the first thing he did was agree to marry the Earl of March’s daughter. Less than a month later, he accepted a larger dowry from the Earl of Douglas to marry Douglas’s daughter instead, thus making a blood enemy of March. Then—”

  The King made a gesture of protest, but Albany ignored it, saying, “Then, Douglas died. Since then Davy has ignored his marriage vows and treated his wife so badly that her brother, the new Earl of Douglas, has become another powerful blood enemy. I can provide a detailed list of Davy’s many illicit liaisons with women other than his wife, if you want one,” Albany added. “You cannot be proud of a son from whom no woman, be she maid or married, is safe.”

  “Davy saved Edinburgh Castle last year from the English,” the King said.

  “Aye, sure, the lad is a fine warrior but reckless. He may win the day, but he will lose half of his men in the doing. In most cases, diplomacy might have prevented the conflict. But Davy revels in conflict. He is rarely sober, he carries on like a bed-hopping satyr, and he urgently needs bringing to heel. If you wait for him to convene Parliament, you will wait in vain, because he kens the risk he runs if he does. Sign the summons I made out for you, sir. If Davy truly wants to learn how to rule Scotland, he can watch and learn from me.”

  “First the lords of Parliament must agree,” the King said.

  “They will agree when you suggest it, as you will unless you can name anyone else who would be as capable of ruling this country as I am.”

  “Ye ken fine that there be nae such man. But few lords of Parliament love ye, Robbie.” The King sighed. “ ’Tis true that they have little love for Davy either. Aye, then, I will summon them. However, as to this other, regarding our Marsi, I—”

  “The lady Marsaili is to marry Martin Lindsay of Redmyre,” Albany said with chilly patience. “You have agreed to that, I believe. These documents merely set out the marriage settlements that I have negotiated with Redmyre.”

  “Aye, sure, but sithee, I promised Annabella that I’d no force the lass to marry where she does no want to marry, and Redmyre is much older than she is. Sakes, but he is older than I knew him to be. And Marsi has said—”

  “Marsaili will do as she is bid, just as any noble maiden must do.”

  “I fear that the lassie has a mind of her own, Robbie. But I’ll think on the matter and give ye my answer when we find her,” the King said.

  With that, for the moment, Albany had to be satisfied. He had achieved his primary goal—that of summoning Parliament—so he was pleased.

  Even so, for putting him to such trouble, he promised himself a few warm minutes with the lady Marsaili when he laid hands on her, as he soon would.

  His men were questioning everyone in the castle.

  Chapter 5

  Marsi was paying close heed to the discussion between Hetty and Hawk. She did not know Milton, but she knew Drymen, because it was the town from which the Drummonds had taken their name. The first Drummonds had come from there, and her parents lay buried at Inchmahone Priory some ten miles north of Drymen.

  It had been years since she had visited Drymen, but if they should travel near the Loch of Menteith, where the priory stood, she might find a way to visit her parents’ graves. She would have to think up a good tale, one that…

  With a mental bump, her thoughts jumped off that path. She had often made up tales when she had found it useful, and nearly always successfully. Not that she told lies, exactly. If one spoke only the truth but left out inconvenient details, surely that was not the same as lying. Even in her present guise, she had not really told any lies. She had never said that she was the nursery maid, nor had anyone else. She had simply presented herself as one. She felt uncomfortable about that now, though.

  Something about the man…

  When Hetty had said that she could guess their route and had mentioned Annabella’s having expressed on her deathbed her fears for Jamie’s safety, Marsi recalled having told Hawk herself that she had been present at the time.

  Fixing her gaze on Hetty, Marsi prayed that she would say no more and that Hawk would not mention his knowledge of her presence.

  Hawk glanced at her, and although it was a brief look, it was so intense that she felt it to her bones. However, he said only that they should discuss their route.

  Hetty said diffidently, “As to pretending to be his lordship’s aunt, sir, I would suggest that we might more wisely say that he and I are cousins. See you, I find prevarication difficult, but I am a second cousin to his mother and thus…”

  “We can discuss that later, mistress,” Hawk said. “I understand your reluctance, but we might be wise to ask the lad what he thinks we should say.”

  Marsi was glad to keep quiet and let them talk. She felt only relief when neither Hetty nor Hawk so much as looked at her, let alone asked for her opinion on that subject or any other. The only time either of them seemed to notice her was when Hetty said that it might be wise to learn when they could expect to eat their midday meal. She did look at Marsi then, but Hawk said he would ask the captain.

  When he had gone, Hetty looked shrewdly at Marsi. “I could see that ye were thinking hard, but ye were wise to keep silent. I tell ye, the more I have to remember what to say or not to say, the more likely I am to say what I should not.”

  “I know, Hetty. It is the same with me. But I cannot tell Hawk the truth until they put us ashore, or he will send me back to Turnberry with the captain.”

  “I doubt he would send ye back alone with all these men!”

  “He would do it in a blink and think it a good lesson for me,” Marsi said. “Esp
ecially since I told him myself that the captain assured me that I am safe from his men even if I walk about the ship alone.”

  “Ay-de-mi, surely ye didna say any such impertinent thing to the man!”

  “But I did, aye, because I thought it was silly for him to keep me confined to this cabin. Even had I not, since Wolf is Hawk’s friend, Hawk must trust him to keep me safe. And if I go back to Turnberry now, after running off, you know what will happen. I’d wager that Albany is already there, and if he gets his hands on me…”

  Hetty grimaced and Marsi knew that she need not say any more.

  She also knew, however, that her pretense could not continue much longer, and she had witnessed Hawk’s volatile temper. She had a temper, too, she reminded herself, but the reminder did little good. Hawk’s temper was doubtless a much greater danger to her than hers would ever be to him.

  On deck, Ivor found the big square sail up and the tacking spar attached. Oarsmen were still at their posts but had raised their oars, unneeded while the sail stayed full. Jake stood near his helmsman, and James stood between them.

  The lad looked as if he enjoyed life on the galley, but Ivor wondered how he would like it if he had to live so day after day.

  “All settled?” Jake asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “Well enough, aye,” Ivor replied. “Mistress Henrietta is well enough to think of food for others if not yet for herself. She suggested that the lad might be hungry for his midday meal. Can we feed them, or is this wind too strong?”

  “We’ll eat shortly,” Jake said. “It will be cold food, but we have sliced beef, bread, and plenty of apples. If anyone is starving…” He glanced at James.

  The boy shrugged. “I’m content,” he said.

  Jake glanced up at the gray sky and ahead again. “We’ve some time yet before we enter the narrow part of the firth at Greenock. I’ll tell one of my lads to prepare a basket of food for the cabin. Then the lad can eat when he chooses.”