Chapter 7
“M’lady,” a voice called.
Bah, what did they want? She stood and strode toward the door. She laughed at the men drowning in silk and petticoats as they waited at the threshold.
“May we enter, m’lady?” Colin asked, though his voice muffled beneath the froth of gowns.
She stepped aside. “Aye.”
They entered and plopped the gowns on the bed. Relief filled their faces as if it were an insult to their manhood to carry such feminine garments. Just image how insulted they’d be if they had to actually wear the gowns.
“They’re fer ye, m’lady.” Alec sounded sincere, but the scar running through his eye was a sight to behold and made him seem fierce. Must have been a horrid injury. One of her father’s men had suffered a similar injury; miraculously, Connor had survived. Unlike her father.
Captain Ross must be behind the gesture of clean gowns. “I’ve my own clothing. But if you wish to bring my quiver and bow, I’d be forever grateful.”
Colin held up his hands. “Now, m’lady, ye ken the Captain canna be allowing that.” He looked sheepishly toward the floor.
She narrowed her gaze and inspected the men before her. When she’d first seen them, ’twas as if they were the most intimidating men she’d ever encountered. But now, as they stood before her, shy and polite, she’d have to reassess her opinion. Not that she was familiar with being kidnapped, but she assumed the men who’d steal a woman would be a bit more intimidating and instill fear.
The men stared at her as if waiting for an answer.
“Are ye ready, m’lady?” Dougal called from the door. He shifted his weight, then glanced at the other men. “What are ye two arses doing in the lass’s chamber?”
“Who are ye calling arses? Ye big amadan,” Alec said as he bristled.
Colin faced the man and said, “The captain told us to bring her clothing, now the lass won’t change.”
She held up her hands. “I have clothing.”
Dougal tsked. “M’lady, the captain says ye have to wear a gown.” A bit of sympathy seeped into his gaze, but he didn’t move or tell her she could wear her own clothing.
“’Tis what we told her. And she said nay.”
The more they talked the more these men were like lads. She fisted her hands at her waist and stared at them, trying to seem stern enough for them to listen to her. “Why would I need to change if I’m to remain in the cabin?”
A huge smile spread over Colin’s face. “Yer to walk about the deck, m’lady.”
“’Tis the truth of it,” Dougal said as he nodded his head like an eager pup. “Captain Ross said I can take ye out on deck.”
Finally. She smiled at the men and clapped her hands before her. “Wonderful.” Madness hovered and if she remained in the cabin, she would truly go mad. She traveled where she wished and the vast MacAlister territory gave her ample room to hunt and roam about the land. The forest seemed endless and filled with pine and animals, and luckily docile lochs and rivers.
She cocked her brow at the men. “I may have just gotten my sea legs, but I do believe gowns are dangerous on deck.”
Alec wiped the back of his neck and glanced toward the floor, then at Dougal. Ah, so he looked to have the other man answer. His suspicious behavior prompted her to say, “Alec, what aren’t you telling me?”
His eyes widened. “’Tis naught wrong, m’lady.”
Her instincts hummed, the men weren’t telling her something.
“I hear the captain calling me,” Colin said as he shook his head.
“Do not take one more step, Colin.” She paced toward him and wagged her finger in his face. “Tell me. Tell me now.”
The man looked like he'd just drunk spoiled milk. “I dinnae ken, m’lady. Captain ordered me and Alec here to get ye a gown.” He pointed to the fluffy dresses on the bed. “We brought ye a few to choose from.”
She pulled back and then glanced quickly toward the men. They thought to bring her a selection of gowns? What an odd lot. ’Twasn’t confusion on her part, but more of a surprise to find these men weren’t ruthless pirates determined to capture unsuspecting lasses. But their motive remained unclear. Why her? And why did Captain Ross need the ransom?
“M’lady, the captain will expect ye to wear a gown.” Dougal went to the pile on the bed and plucked out a blue gown. “’Tis a lovely shade for ye, m’lady.” Dougal held the dress before him, took a few steps as if dancing.
She burst out laughing, then stopped when he frowned. A few chuckles lingered before she could pull a straight face. She loathed gowns and had only wore them when her mother had forced her. Mostly she’d borrow britches from the stable lads. Wearing britches wasn’t unusual. Her sister donned a tartan most of the time, much to her mother’s and the Clan Council’s chagrin.
“Aye, ’twould suit ye, m’lady.” Colin took the gown from Dougal and shoved it into her arms. “The captain would be pleased.”
Would the captain be pleased if she wore a gown? The man had seen her in naught but filthy britches. She sighed; he’d also seen her without a stitch upon her. It appeared as if these men wouldn’t be happy until she wore the gown.
Alec tipped his head down as his eyes bored into hers. The serious turn of his demeanor took her aback. “You’ll no’ walk about if ye dinnae wear the gown. The—”
She held up her hand. “Aye, aye.” She held the dress before her and grins spread across the men’s faces. ’Twas as if it were Christmas and they’d received enough sweets to fill their stomachs.
They stood watching her with their ridiculous smiles.
“Well?” she said as she nodded toward the door. “I need to don it.”
Alec turned beet red and Colin raced from the chamber. Dougal nodded toward her. “I’ll meet ye outside, m’lady.”
After they all left, she removed her clothing and set the garments upon the bed. Such stark contrast between the opulent gowns and the rough thread of her dark britches. She tossed her liene onto the pile and shook off melancholy thoughts of home and helping Hope dress for her wedding. She missed her sisters. Even if they didn’t see eye-to-eye, Hope and Honor were her blood and the only true family she’d left since her mother’s death a few years past.
She dug through the pile for undergarments, slipped them on, then stopped. Freedom to walk the deck, or continue to wear her britches and stay in the chamber. She reached for the gown, pulled back, then sighed.
“Damn,” she muttered as she slipped on the gown and heaved a sigh. The laces were in the back and she stretched and reached until they were tight enough to keep the gown secure. Many times she’d left the keep wearing a gown only to change into the britches she’d hidden outside the palisade gate. Then she’d have to don the gown before her mother witnessed her in britches.
The chamber didn’t have a looking glass. She reached up and touched her hair; her fingers became tangled in the snarls. With no brush in sight to remedy the situation, she used her fingers to comb through her hair, then tied a knot at the base of her head. ’Twould have to do for now.
She strode to the chamber door and reached to open it. She let her hand fall and gnawed on her lip. A quick sigh later, she opened the door and stepped on deck.
Dougal waited for her. A wide grin creased his face as he nodded. The markings on his face waved across his skin in a strange likeness to the bark of a tree. “Lovely, m’lady.” He offered his elbow and she accepted.
“I kenned the color was for ye, m’lady.”
She chuckled; how could she not? This seemingly savage man acted like a kind gentleman.
“Thank you,” she replied as they made way toward the bow. The other men were working, fixing sails, coiling ropes and the large man, Wee Will used a spyglass. She followed the direction in which he pointed. He watched the shore,
ignoring her observation. It made sense, to be sure. Watching for Amit and mayhap her sister and Aidan.
Where was the captain? He wanted her in a gown and now he wasn’t even on deck.
“We’re waiting for Amit. He’ll have word and ye’ll be back to yer clan in a thrice.”
“And then where will you go?” She tried to sound disinterested, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Och, m’lady. ’Tis for Captain Ross to decide.”
A cool breeze eased over them as they walked the deck. ’Twas a lovely day and she found her stomach to be steady. She glanced at Dougal, trying to determine what type of man he was. In her experience, gentlemen didn’t kidnap woman. Her limited experience didn’t make her an expert. Mayhap in the world these men traveled in, ’twas the ordinary thing to do. Yet, even as she thought it, it sounded ridiculous.
Dougal huffed. “Ask, m’lady.”
Startled, she said, “What?”
“About me face. ’Tis obvious ye are curious.”
Curious. Aye, being curious happened to land her in more trouble than good. She was curious about the crew, where they were headed, and about the captain’s past. Mostly, curious about how Captain Ross’ mouth would feel upon hers once again. And now the kiss was rarely far from her mind.
But the man did ask for her to inquire. “Tell me about it.”
He chuckled, and she felt it vibrate through his body into hers. She tipped her head up to get a better view of his face.
“We were on a small mass of land securing goods.” He gazed into the distance, his eyes narrowed.
She touched his arm with her free hand. “If it pains you to tell me, you dinnae need to.”
“Nay, m’lady. I’d be proud to tell ye.” He grinned and the dark lines moved with his skin, some disappearing into his wrinkles.
“’Twas an amazing place with people who lived differently than us. Some may call ’em savages. But no more savage than a clan attacking another clan.”
Aye, many thought the battles between clans to be quite savage. A shiver chased down her spine as she thought about the battle with Clan Mungo.
Dougal patted her hand. “When Captain Ross traveled to New Guinea, we expected to find treasure.”
Hmm. Treasure? She envisioned trunks filled with gold and jewels and the devilish grin on the captain’s face when he found such a bounty.
“Go on.”
“Weel, we found a tribe, they call ’em. Markings all over their bodies, tataus they called them.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “One day the leader’s daughter nearly drowned and I saved her.”
She gasped. “You were very brave.” A pirate and a gentleman? When he spoke of the tribe, called them savages, ’twas strange. Hadn’t she thought of him as a savage every time she glanced his way?
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “The leader tataued me. A sign of respect, he said.”
For a fleeting moment, she wished she’d been there, seen the tribe circled around Dougal as he received the tatau for bravery. Envy filled her. Such an adventure to be had. “Does it mean something? All of the lines.”
He stopped walking. “Och, in their language, aye. But for us, ’tis a mark of respect.”
“Can I . . . can I touch it?” Aye, her vexing curiosity. She clenched her hands to keep from touching the man without his permission.
Dougal’s eyes widened and she swore he blushed beneath the marks or tatau on his skin. “Aye,” he said with a low chuckle.
She reached up as he lowered his face. “Why, ’tis soft.”
Dougal tipped his head back and let out a roar of laughter. “’Tis skin.”
“How do they make a tatau?” She continued touching his skin, following the lines as they contoured over his face.
He straightened and held out his elbow once again. A few gulls swooped above them, then dodged over the side of the ship. “’Tis ink and tiny, sharp spears—like needles.”
Dear God, there were lines all over his face. “Needles?”
“Aye. I had enough of the drink in me no’ to feel, m’lady.”
She chuckled, leaned into the man before she said, “You’re a brave man, Dougal.”
He patted her hand and they stopped at the bow of the ship. She had yet to see Captain Ross. “Did Captain Ross save a lass as well?”
A grin flashed upon the man’s face. “He’s saved many a lass, I reckon. The captain requested the tatau from the leader of the tribe. He had an etching from his mam’s grave.”
Touching, to be sure. She shook her head and tried to sort out her feelings about the crew and the captain. A confusing lot. They’d taken her from her land, but behaved kindly, considerate even. And here she was, wearing a gown and parading around the deck as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
But I do, she reminded herself. And her freedom depended on Amit delivering a message. And returning with coin she feared they didn’t have to spare.
“Shall we pace toward the stern?”
She nodded. She so wanted to ask the man if he’d talk to Captain Ross on her behalf. She needed her quiver and bow. “Dougal?”
He stopped and looked at her, his dark eyes questioning. “Aye, m’lady?”
She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped. Nay, she was a lass of decision. She gazed directly into his eyes and pulled back her shoulders. “Would you be willing to fetch my quiver and bow?”
The man vehemently shook his head and continued walking. “Nay, m’lady. The captain said no and I canna be defying his orders.”
She pouted, but he had the right of it.
Just as they were crossing the mast of the ship, Captain Ross emerged from the cargo hold.
Dear God, where was his liene? His tanned chest glistened in the afternoon sun. His slicked-back hair appeared as if he’d just bathed or had taken a quick dip in the sea. She swallowed and tried to look away, but her eyes wouldn’t listen to her mind ordering her to do so.
Captain Ross’ eyes widened as they moved closer.
Bah, ’twas the ridiculous gown. She looked the fool. “You demanded I wear it.”
He closed his mouth and nodded toward Dougal. “Thank you, I’ll walk with her a bit.”
~ ~ ~
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way her skin contrasted with the pale blue, how it fit her curves as if it were made for her and not taken from a ship’s hold, pushed him to want and to embrace her, whisper how beautiful she was. Feather gentle kisses along her brow until she melted against him.
He stood, unyielding as she said good day to Dougal. The lass had made a dear friend by the way she looked at his sailing master. Jealousy bit at him, but he had no right to such an emotion.
“Lady Faith,” he said as he fell in step next to her. “You look lovely.”
She scoffed, and he thought of the foolish lads from her clan. Had no one told her how beautiful she was? Incredibly tempting, the way the silken material molded to her waist and up to cradle her breasts. The light blue made her green eyes glitter and look more blue than green. The way her lashes cast shadow over her cheeks and the full pout of her mouth, made her more than desirable. There were many compliments he could make, and none would do her justice.
He stared at her neck and watched her swallow. ’Twould look wondrous with gems. Lady Faith MacAlister deserved gems.
“I look like a fool,” she countered even as a wry smile tipped up the corner of her mouth. Did his words please her? Or did she play at being coy?
Taken aback, he asked, “Why would you say that?”
She scowled at him, her eyes darkening. “I do not wear gowns.”
He thought for a moment. When he’d seen Laird MacAlister, she’d been wearing a tartan. Unusual, to be sure, but just as unusual
for a woman to lead a clan and continue to lead equally with her husband. Regardless, the tartan seemed to suit her. He couldn’t recall if he’d seen her other sister; was she as unique as well?
“’Tis a shame. A beautiful woman should wear a beautiful gown.”
She stiffened and the line of her jaw tightened. “Dinnae jest.”
He moved in front of her. He trailed his finger along her jaw, unable to resist the urge to touch her. “I would never jest. You are truly beautiful.”
A pinkish hue covered her skin. He wanted to lean in and capture her full mouth with his. Suckle and feast upon her delectable lips. Since he’d kissed her, he’d thought of nothing else. Dangerous thoughts for a man to have for his captive. But the lass tempted, regardless of her role in his attempt to secure funds.
She regarded him coolly, then a calculated gleam entered her gaze. “Shall we continue walking?”
His instincts sounded a warning, but he nodded.
“You’ve a lovely ship.” She pointed toward his cabin. “How do you manage with such a small crew?”
Was she asking because she wanted to know or did she want to share the information with her family? “Aye, Blue Boy is a beaut of a vessel.”
“And your crew?” she asked with a lifted brow.
He shrugged. Wouldn’t do to provide too much information. “We’ve managed thus far. And I’m sure we’ll continue to manage.”
“Was your father a captain as well?” She gave him a tight smile before she added, “Is shipping part of your clan’s legacy?”
“Nay.”
Her brows furrowed and she stiffened. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”
“Nay.”
She grunted. “Captain, may I have my quiver and bow?”
Ah, to the meat of her questions. “Nay, m’lady.”
“Why?”
He chuckled at her petulant tone and patted her arm. “I’ll not arm my captives.”
A pout plumped up her lips. Oh, how he wanted to indulge in her tempting mouth.
Highland Faith Page 7