Rogue of the High Seas

by Cynthia Breeding

  “Well, whatever it is, the mon still lives a world away from us. Our family is close, and that is important. Ye need to think on it.”

  Shauna nodded, not trusting her voice as she stood. As she left, she had the depressing feeling that it might be more difficult to reject Owen MacLean than she had first thought.

  Even though she tried to put her visit with Shane aside, Mr. Adler noticed when she went to visit him the following day.

  “Something is still troubling you,” he said as she took the chair opposite his in the small room off the entry that served as a day room. “Is it that young man you spoke of last time? Has he done something to upset you?”

  She really shouldn’t be talking about her personal life. Mrs. Tate had made it quite clear that visitors, and especially volunteers, were not to upset any of the patients. But Mr. Adler was so kind and he seemed to be truly concerned. “No, not really. It’s just…it’s really nothing.”

  “Nonsense. You look sad, and I do not wish for you to be sad. Please tell me about it, my dear,” Mr. Adler said. “If I remember correctly, last time you said the young man used to annoy and tease you. Otis, I think you called him.”

  “Owen.” Shauna looked around. Except for Mr. James napping in his favorite chair by the door, the room was empty. Maybe it would help to get an objective opinion from someone not connected to her. She turned back to Mr. Adler. “Owen told me he clerked for a Mr. Rothschild in London and has ideas on how to improve his father’s lands. He also wants to bring the crofters back who were burned out with the Clearances, so he is nae a bad mon…”

  “But you are unhappy?”

  Shauna sighed. “It’s just that he will nae tell me what his ideas are. He acts as if I am nae capable of understanding anything beyond preparing a meal or mending a shirt.”

  “What a pity.” Mr. Adler shook his head. “It is quite obvious to me that you are a highly intelligent young lady.”

  “Thank ye.” At least someone valued intelligence. She tapped the book she’d brought along. “I enjoy reading, but I also like working with numbers and using my mind to figure things out. Owen does nae agree.”

  “More’s the pity, if he cannot appreciate that.” Mr. Adler paused. “What does your family think about the situation?”

  “My brother Ian and my cousin, Shane, think the match a good one. They would like to see me wed.” Just not to Robert, she almost added. Shane had made that clear earlier and then driven the point home by reminding her that America was a world away. “I ken ’tis a woman’s place to marry, but…” She just wanted to marry someone who made her tingle all over. Not that she was going to tell Mr. Adler about her reaction to Robert or even mention him.

  “But you feel this man does not value you?” Mr. Adler finished for her.

  “Aye. I ken I should nae expect—”

  “Of course you should expect to be valued,” Mr. Adler said. “A man who cannot do that is a fool.”

  “Who is a fool?” a voice asked from the doorway. “Hopefully, not me.”

  Startled, Shauna shifted in her chair. A dark-haired gentleman dressed in black entered the room, lithely avoiding Mr. James’s outstretched legs and maneuvering around the sharp edge of a table with equal grace. His eyes were green, but a different shade than Robert’s—more yellowish—and slanted up at the corners, making Shauna think of a panther moving toward them.

  Mr. Adler smiled. “Miss MacLeod, meet my son, Neal.”

  The younger man bowed. “A pleasure, I am sure,” he said with a slight accent she couldn’t quite place. “My father has spoken quite highly of you.”

  “Thank ye,” Shauna said as she rose, pleased that the elderly man had complimented her to his son. Mr. Adler must enjoy conversing with her. “I will leave ye to visit with your father.”

  “You do not have to leave on my account,” Neal said.

  “Mrs. Tate, the matron, prefers we let family visit in private,” Shauna answered.

  “Then perhaps next time, we will go for a carriage ride when Neal visits,” Mr. Adler said, “and be gone from here. That is, if you have no objections, Miss MacLeod.”

  “I doona want to interrupt family time.”

  “You would do me an honor to show me the sights,” Neal said. “I am not familiar with Edinburgh and my father could use the fresh air.”

  “Well, if ye put it like that, aye. I would be glad to go with ye.”

  “Good. Then it is settled,” Mr. Adler said. “Shall we say next Thursday?”

  Shauna nodded. “Next Thursday.”

  “I will be looking forward to it as well,” Neal said and walked her to the hall, “and I thank you for visiting my father. It means so much.”

  “I am happy to do it,” Shauna replied when he opened the door. She went down the steps, feeling glad Mr. Adler had such a caring son. Too many elderly people were forgotten by their grown children, but nice Mr. Adler wasn’t one of them.

  “How did I do?” Nicholas asked as he returned to his father.

  Wesley laughed. “You are almost as good an actor as me.”

  Nicolas grimaced. “Trying to sound British is damned hard.”

  “It gets easier as time goes by.”

  “Just remember, time is limited. Every day you stay here—that I stay in this God-forsaken country—becomes riskier. Let us not wear out the welcome.”

  Wesley glanced at the snoring old man near the door. “We may not be in Paris at the Hotel Meurice, but I have a mission to accomplish.”

  “One that is foolhardy.”

  Wesley narrowed his eyes at his son. “That is for me to decide.”

  Nicholas sighed and sat down. “So what do you want me to do this time? Rape the chit?”

  “No. Given how naïve she is, I am sure she is a virgin.”

  Nicholas grinned. “That would make it more enjoyable, given she’s not much to look at. Not much to grab onto either.”

  “Forget that. She is British.”

  Nicholas looked puzzled. “Granted, I prefer hot-blooded, swarthy women, but—”

  “Sultans like that pale, white skin.”

  “Sultans?”

  “Yes, sultans.” Wesley sometimes wondered if Nicholas were truly daft. His mother had been stupid. Maybe he had inherited that trait. “Turkish sultans pay well, especially if the bitch is also a virgin.”

  Nicholas leaned back on the sofa. “You plan to sell her?”

  “Oui.”

  “Comment…how do you plan to do that? We tried abduction before. It did not turn out so well.”

  “That is where the carriage rides come in. We will start taking those rides—” Wesley smiled, “—for my health, of course. You will also gain her trust by asking questions, letting her know you think she is intelligent—”

  “An intelligent woman?” Nicholas interrupted. “Deceitful, cunning, experienced perhaps, but intelligent?”

  “She thinks she is. That is all that matters.” Wesley sighed, wishing he didn’t have to spell everything out for Nicholas. “Each time we will ride a little farther away, until finally, one day, we reach a place I have already picked out.”

  “What good would that do? If you plan to have another carriage waiting, it would be a long ride, days on the road before we could reach London and take a ship. There would be too many opportunities for her to escape. Not to mention MacLeods hunting us.”

  “I agree. There is an inlet near Leith, deep enough for a ship to anchor.”

  Nicholas shot up straight. “A ship? Have you taken total leave of your senses? Shane MacLeod knows every ship that sails in and out of here.”

  “MacLeod only knows ships that are scheduled to arrive or leave. This one will not be carrying cargo or be put into port.”

  Nicholas shook his head. “MacLeod probably knows every captain that sails the Channel and
the North Sea.”

  “He will not know this one.”

  “Why not?”

  Wesley gave a disgusted snort. How could a son of his be so dense? “Because your brother, Richard, will be at the helm.”

  Chapter Eleven

  When she returned from the charitable home, Shauna went in search of Abigail and nearly tripped over her own feet when she saw Colette in the parlor, having tea.

  “Come join us,” Abigail said. “How did your visit go?”

  “Verra good,” Shauna said as she sank into a chair and raised her hand to decline a cup of tea. “The new patient has a son who visits. I always feel sorry for the ones who doona have visitors.”

  Colette looked at her with interest. “Abigail told me you volunteer with the elderly? It must be difficile—difficult—to do that.”

  “Nae. I enjoy it. They get lonely.”

  “How noble.”

  Shauna shook her head. ’Tis the Highland way to care for our parents and grandparents in their old age. Since I am nae in Glenfinnan, I do what I can here.”

  A wistful look passed over the French girl’s face and Shauna remembered she’d just lost her mother last year. “Och, I should nae have brought up my family. I ken ye still have sad memories.”

  “Each week that passes helps,” Colette said. “My painting helps too. I did several portraits of Maman, but Papa cannot look at them.”

  “You must give him time,” Abigail said.

  “Oui. One of the reasons I wanted to make this trip was to spend time with Papa.”

  “I am sure your father feels the same way. He told Shane he did not want you left alone in France for months.”

  “O, que.” Colette waved her hand in the air. “I would have done quite well at the house. We have plenty of servants. I let Papa think I did not feel safe, so he would bring me and not be alone.” She smiled. “I find I am the one alone here since Papa has been so busy.”

  “I would welcome your company,” Abigail said, “whenever you would like to call.”

  “Merci, but I do not wish to burden you.”

  “You will not be a burden, especially since Shane insists I do not work at the office for now. With the twins gone and Shauna doing charity work, I shall go stark raving mad sitting about the house all day.”

  “Shane should nae be ordering ye to stay home,” Shauna said. “Perhaps I should talk to him.”

  “No,” Abigail said quickly and then grinned. “We…er, resolved that issue rather…er, satisfactorily.”

  Shauna felt her cheeks flush as she recalled her cousin and Abigail ordering dinner sent to their bedchamber and not putting in an appearance downstairs for nearly twenty-four hours. She’d assumed they were arguing. Shauna frowned. “Ye are going to let him tell ye what to do?”

  A twinkle appeared in Abigail’s eyes behind her spectacles. “Actually, he asked rather nicely by the time we finished our…er, conversation.”

  Colette laughed too. “Sometimes we have to let the men think they win, non?”

  “Well, it is better to pick battles we know we can win,” Abigail replied and looked at Shauna. “You will understand once you are married.”

  “Did you say yes to Owen?” Colette asked. “How wonderful.”

  “Nae.” Shauna didn’t have to see Abigail’s eyebrows lift to know her tone sounded harsh. “I mean…we have nae discussed marriage.”

  “Oh.” Colette looked disappointed. “I wanted to paint you as a couple once I finish Robert’s portrait.”

  Robert. Had Colette been spending time with him while Shauna thought he was working on his ship? Not that it was her business, she told herself sternly. “How much longer will his portrait take?”

  “I have not started.” Colette looked at Abigail. “One of the reasons I called today was to ask if you could point out some natural areas that I could use as a background.”

  “Ye doona want to paint Captain Henderson on his ship?” Shauna asked.

  “Oh, no. Even though he may captain a ship, I think he is a very introspective person. Artists see these things.” She smiled. “I want to paint him outdoors, away from civilization, in a very private and quiet setting.”

  She stared at the girl. Colette wanted to spend hours alone with Robert? Away from civilization? In a private setting?

  Shauna suddenly felt as though she’d swallowed a big piece of coal.

  What the hell was MacLean doing at the dock office again? The last time Robert had come to the office, the man had practically been pressing himself against Shauna at the counter. This afternoon, he was hovering over her shoulder as she sat at the desk. She looked up as Robert entered and an odd expression flashed across her face. It was gone before he could identify what it was.

  “Captain Henderson. I dinnae ken ye would be stopping by.”

  He’d asked her to call him Robert. Why was she being so formal? Because MacLean was here? The man gave him a cold stare as he straightened and put a hand on the back of Shauna’s chair. The move was a possessive one, meant to tell Robert to back off, but he was not easily intimidated. He stared back.

  “Where is Albert?”

  Shauna’s eyes widened at his sharp tone. He hadn’t meant to bark the question, but damn it, why was she alone with MacLean?

  “I sent him to pick up a document I needed from Mr. Frazier,” Owen said.

  “Isn’t it a little unusual to send someone who doesn’t work for you on an errand?”

  Owen smiled slowly. “In a manner of speaking, Albert does now.”

  Now? Robert kept his face impassive, although his blood pounded in his ears. Did MacLean mean he was soon to be a part of the family? Had Shauna agreed to his proposal? He glanced at Shauna.

  As if sensing his unspoken question, or maybe she just felt the hostility in the air—it was as thick as sea fog—she shook her head. “Owen is planning to harvest kelp from Loch Shiel to make his father’s estate more productive. Shane left some profitability reports with Mr. Frazier.”

  So why hadn’t the bastard just said that? Robert knew the answer his question. The man was trying to claim rights that weren’t his to claim. Not yet anyway. At least Owen had lost a little of his smugness at Shauna’s explanation.

  “Is Frazier thinking about going into the business as well?” Robert asked to divert the subject. He thought he saw something flicker in Shauna’s eyes.

  “I am nae sure.” She frowned. “I doona get included in the conversations.”

  “There is no reason for you to fret about business matters,” Owen said in a pacifying tone.

  Robert saw the merest twitch of a muscle in Shauna’s jaw and he almost laughed. Some women may not want to fret about business matters, but Shauna MacLeod was not one of them. She had a quick, sharp mind. If MacLean couldn’t see that, the man was not only a fool, but he didn’t deserve her.

  “So what brings you here, Henderson?” Owen asked.

  “Some lumber I ordered came in and Albert has the invoice.” Robert stifled a grin as he took the empty chair close to the desk. “I’ll just wait here until he gets back.”

  After the way Owen and Robert had glowered at each other in the office yesterday afternoon—thankfully, Albert had returned within the half-hour—Shauna wasn’t at all sure it was a wise idea to have them both to dinner at the same time. However, she didn’t want to draw Shane’s attention to their discord, so she’d remained silent when Abigail had suggested a weekly Saturday night dinner that would include Mr. Frazier and Colette as well. Colette was another contention Shauna didn’t want to bring up.

  So here they all were. Owen sat beside her as he had last time. Colette’s father and Robert were across the table from him, but Colette had managed to sit on the other side of Robert tonight. And Shauna was pretty sure she’d moved her chair a little closer to Robert too.

  She
sighed. Abigail liked to have balance at the table, so she always had even numbers of place settings when they had guests. Tonight’s table had been set for eight with only seven people. Shauna liked evenness as well, but for once, she wished they’d left the table somewhat askew. If they had, Colette would be sitting on the other side of Owen instead of smiling prettily beside Robert.

  “I am so looking forward to starting your portrait,” Colette said to him. “Perhaps we could discuss a time?”

  “I don’t know that it can be soon,” Robert replied. “I want to take advantage of the break in the rain and snow we’ve had to get my rudder repaired.”

  “Certainement.” She managed to sound gracious and look disappointed at the same time. “I offered to do a wedding portrait for Mr. MacLean and Shauna, but I wanted to do yours first.”

  Robert turned his gaze on Shauna. His eyes had gone darker, but his expression was as immobile as a faro player’s. “You are betrothed?”

  Shauna tried to keep herself from glaring at Colette. Hadn’t she just told the woman Thursday that marriage hadn’t been discussed? “Nae—”

  “But it is only a matter of time,” Owen cut in and picked up her hand to brush a kiss across her knuckles. “I have arrangements to make first.”

  Shauna fought the urge to jerk her hand back, silently berating herself for not having kept her hand in her lap, but she’d been about to pick up her fork. Instead, she slipped her hand away on the pretense of reaching for her water glass. How dare Owen make such assumptions?

  Robert shifted his gaze to Owen, but he said nothing.

  Shane frowned. “What arrangements do ye have in mind?”

  Owen smiled. “Simply that I have been amiss in paying Shauna court. Since the weather has turned warm—at least for this time of year—perhaps we could go for a carriage ride tomorrow afternoon?”

  Shane’s brow uncreased. “Ah. Well, that should nae be a problem.”

  “Of course, I will be glad to chaperone,” Abigail said, ignoring the sharp look her husband was giving her. “I would like to take some fresh air.”

  In spite of being annoyed with Owen, Shauna stifled a grin. Abigail had just managed to get around Shane’s order for her to stay home. Shane looked as though he were about to argue the point, so Shauna cut him off. “Aye. I will need a chaperone.”