Rogue of the High Seas

by Cynthia Breeding

  “I was. I would like to see Edinburgh have a stock exchange similar to London’s. It would make sense to regulate Scotland’s commerce from here. Woolens and textiles are already in demand, and if I am going to establish a kelp trade, I would rather eliminate as many middle men as I can.” Owen chewed the last bite of apple. “I intend to become very wealthy. You should be grateful to be getting such a resourceful husband.”

  Grateful? Shauna managed not to grind her teeth. Owen assumed she was going to marry him, the saints preserve her. She threw Abigail a desperate glance.

  Abigail poured more tea for Owen. “If the betrothal becomes official you should discuss your financial plans and arrangements with Shauna.”

  Owen nearly choked on a swallow. “Why in the world would I do that? Business is a man’s world.”

  “Shane has always admired Shauna’s ability to make good decisions.” Abigail gave him an innocent look and smiled. “I am sure he will expect her future husband to find that trait admirable.”

  “My brothers would agree,” Shauna added.

  “Certain traits are admirable in a woman,” Owen said noncommittally and stood. “If you will excuse me, I just remembered I have a contract to look over.”

  Kyla blinked at Shauna as Owen left. Then she shook her head and muttered something about how a smart woman could be so daft as she removed the plates from the parlor. Shauna paid her no mind. She felt like she had finally won a round.

  Bless Abigail.

  Neal Austin was waiting on the steps of the charitable home the next day when Shauna approached for her visit with Mr. Adler. A barouche also waited.

  “My father is already inside,” Neal said. “I hope you remembered we planned to go for a carriage ride this afternoon.”

  She’d forgotten, but now she recalled that Mr. Adler had asked to see more of Edinburgh. “Are ye sure your father’s well enough?”

  Mr. Adler stuck his head out the window. “I am indeed. Please join me.”

  “After you,” Neal said as he opened the carriage door, pushed down the steps and offered his hand.

  Shauna hesitated for the briefest of moments and then chided herself. Normally, she wouldn’t get into a carriage with two men who weren’t her relatives, but Mr. Adler was a patient at the home and could use some fresh air. His son had been nothing but polite and definitely solicitous of his father. There really was nothing to be wary of. The rented hack had a driver as well. Besides, it was broad daylight and the streets were busy.

  She took Neal’s offered hand, thinking how cool it was it comparison to Robert’s warm ones and then berated herself for such silliness. The air definitely had a nip to it since the storms had passed through. Of course Mr. Austin’s hands would be cold. Although, a voice inside her head reminded her, the night Robert fastened his cloak around me was cold too… Stop it! Shauna stepped up and sat on the seat opposite Mr. Adler. To her relief, his son sat beside him.

  “I asked the driver to take us around the city, but perhaps you could point out some of the historic spots?” Neal asked.

  “I doona ken the whole of it since I am a Highlander,” Shauna said as the carriage lurched forward. “But the city is divided by Princes Street. Shane’s townhouse is in the New City. The Old City runs from Castle Rock to Holyrood. Do ye want to see the Castle? None have lived there since ’45, but ’tis open for visits.”

  “Not today, my dear,” Mr. Adler said. “I was thinking perhaps we could go near the water—not the port, of course—but somewhere a bit more quiet. I have been told sea air is invigorating.”

  “Aye. ’Tis, but it’s a chill wind that blows off the Firth today.” Shauna thought for a moment. “We might go to Dene Village on River Leith. There are some old watermills in a deep gorge there. ’Tis somewhat protected from the wind as well.”

  “An excellent choice,” Mr. Adler said.

  Neal tapped the roof, signaling the driver to stop so he could give new directions. Once the carriage moved on again, he turned to Shauna. “I believe I met your fiancé several days ago”

  Shauna schooled her face not to show her irritation. Was Owen going around town telling people they were betrothed? Good Lord, she had to put a stop to that. “I have accepted no man’s troth,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.

  Neal looked perplexed. “Perhaps I misunderstood. Mr. MacLean indicated he had come to Edinburgh to pay you court.”

  Shauna forced a smile. “He has mentioned that.”

  “Is this the young man you told me about?” Mr. Adler asked.

  “Aye.”

  “I am so sorry. He still persists then?”

  “Aye,” Shauna said again. Mr. Adler looked so sympathetic she was tempted to tell him how arrogant she thought Owen was, but there wasn’t anything Mr. Adler could do, so she kept her thoughts to herself. She would have to figure a way to handle this.

  “One can hardly blame the man for being persistent,” Neal said smoothly. “After all, not only are you attractive, but intelligent as well—if you do not think me too forward for saying such.”

  “Owen doesnae think me smart,” Shauna said before she could stop herself.

  “Why do you say that?” Neal asked.

  Shauna shook her head. She’d already blurted out too much. She didn’t need to be airing her dirty laundry in front of strangers. Besides, as Abigail had reminded her, most men didn’t value women for their brains. “I just like to use my mind more than most women do,” she said and then pointed out the window to change the subject. “Ye can see the river from here. It shouldnae be too long before we are there.”

  “I think we have to be careful not to underestimate Shauna MacLeod,” Nicholas told his father after they’d returned from their afternoon outing and dropped Shauna off in front of Shane’s townhouse.

  Wesley snorted and sank into a chair by the window of his room. “You are not falling for the bitch, are you?”

  Nicholas poured both of them a brandy from the flask he carried and smiled, but his eyes were cold. “Hardly. But it seems to me the reason you were not successful in your previous revengeful endeavors is because you failed—”

  “I did not fail!”

  Nicholas lifted both brows. “Non? Not only did the MacLeod men remain unscathed, they married the women you tried to molest, and their younger sister has a big, hulking protector as well.”

  Wesley glared at Nicholas, not needing to be reminded of the missed opportunities for revenge—opportunities that his sons had bungled, not him. He should have been awarded ownership of his father’s estate. He should be reveling in the wealth and comfort afforded him as the Marquis of Newburn. Most of all, he should be indulging himself by plundering his young stepmother in bed, teaching Jillian the pleasures of pain and increasing the amount she could bear on a regular basis. That’s what he should be doing. Instead, Ian MacLeod was enjoying everything that should be his. And if he couldn’t get directly to that son of a bitch…

  “Shauna MacLeod will pay for the sins of her family.”

  “As long as you do not underestimate her,” Nicholas said.

  “I did quite well today, non? The stupid chit believes salt air is healthy for me. It won’t be hard to convince her to take us a little farther toward the Firth next time and then on to the outlet.”

  “She may fall for your ruse. How much time do we have? Do you have any idea when Richard is supposed to arrive?”

  “The last post he sent said he planned to set sail the end of February if weather conditions allow. That should bring him here in about two weeks.”

  Nicholas looked skeptical. “Even if Richard is waiting with a ship soon and things do not go afoul this time, how do you propose to get her on board with a full crew watching? You do not expect her simply to walk on by invitation, do you?”

  “Of course not. I expect you to carry her onboard.”
/>
  “Que? C’est fou! Are you insane?” Nicholas stared at him. “She will fight like a hellcat. Need I remind you my hands are those of an artiste? I cannot risk my fingers being injured.”

  Wesley tossed his brandy back and slammed the glass on the table. “You are worried about your fingers when so much else is at stake?”

  “These fingers—” Nicholas held up his hands, “—are what supported you while we were in Dublin, remember? I make quite a good living with them.”

  A muscle ticked in Wesley’s jaw. “Oui, do not worry about your precious hands. The bitch will be in a stupor.”

  Nicholas stopped with his glass halfway to his lips and set it down. “How—”

  “Laudanum. You will ask the confectioner to put it in chocolate truffles like you did that time in London.”

  Nicholas smiled. “For my poor, ailing father to relieve him of his terrible pain?”

  “Oui. You can manage that, non?”

  “I did before, did I not?” Nicholas looked thoughtful. “But what if the crew asks questions?”

  Wesley sighed. Nicholas was just as stupid as his bitch mother had been. “I doubt the men Richard will procure for crew will ask questions.”

  Nicholas widened his eyes. “Pirates?”

  Wesley shrugged. “I left that up to Richard, but if the pirates are going to be paid for the bitch in Constantinople, they have a vested interest in making sure she gets there.”

  “So that is why you were not worried about Shane MacLeod knowing any of them. Still, there is a possibility—”

  “Will you give me credit for some intelligence?” Wesley demanded. “I am not going to fail this time. Now…” he poured himself another brandy, “…tell me what you found out about Owen MacLean. I have a feeling he is going to be very useful to us.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  By the following Monday, Albert felt well enough to return to the office. Luckily, the fever and chills from his spill into icy waters had not affected his lungs. The household had breathed a sigh of relief when Janet shooed everyone out of the kitchen and resumed cooking all the meals over the weekend. Shauna wasn’t sure whether that had to do with Albert feeling better or Janet not wanting to be usurped. Robert had come back to cook the evening meals on Thursday and Friday, and the compliments that followed had likely caused Janet to lay siege to her kitchen. Shauna knew her sister Bridget felt that particular room was her specific domain at Glenfinnan and guarded it like a she-wolf with one pup.

  As Shauna walked into the office, she reflected on how Albert’s recovery was a mixed blessing. A blessing, to be sure, that he was well, but it meant Robert would not be returning each evening to prepare the meal. Although she was not particularly helpful in the kitchen—and Kyla had hovered like a fly around honey—Shauna had enjoyed the conversations with Robert. She’d told him how much she’d like to see the Continent, especially the sunny shores of the Mediterranean, and he’d shared stories of the ports of call he’d made in the West Indies.

  “It looks like ye did a good job while I was ill,” Albert said as he scanned a ledger sheet with the entries for the Silver Drake.

  “The captain was kind enough to wait to unload until we could get back to the docks the next morning.” She didn’t add that when she’d talked to the captain that morning he’d told her the crew had been so shaken at nearly smashing Albert to his death that he’d given them liberty.

  “Robert did a good job with the inventory,” Albert said.

  “Aye. Shane told him about the smuggling accusation.” Another consequence of Albert being back was that Robert would not be needed to help in the office. The upside was that Colette would not be fluttering around, but then maybe that was a downside too, since she would probably just arrange to sketch Robert wherever he was. For all Shauna knew, Colette might be following him around this very minute—wherever he was.

  That thought stopped when the door to the office opened and Colette walked in and looked around.

  “Robert is not here yet?”

  At least he hadn’t told Colette he wasn’t coming in. Maybe… Shauna sighed. She’d drive herself insane if she kept this up. Colette had every right to paint Robert and he had agreed.

  “I have nae seen him this morning.” Actually, she hadn’t seen him since Friday night, but Colette didn’t need to know that.

  “Perhaps I will come back later then,” Colette said and held up a small poster advertising an open house at the Edinburgh Home for the Aged and Infirm the coming Friday. “Papa said this was left at his office and he wondered if it was the place you volunteer.”

  Shauna nodded. “The matron thought donations might increase if the public could see the benefits to the patients in such a setting.”

  “We have such a place in Paris too. Papa has made contributions there, so I am sure he will do so here as well. Do you know if Robert will attend?”

  “I doona ken,” Shauna replied. She’d meant to tell him about it last week, but his stories about all the exciting places he’d been made her forget.

  “I am sure he will once I tell him about it,” Colette said.

  The door opened again, and from the way the French girl snapped her head around, Shauna knew she was hoping it would be Robert. Of course, she’d done the same thing only to find Owen coming in.

  “I doona ken who will attend,” Shauna said, careful to keep her tone even. “’Tis the first time the event has been held.”

  “What event?” Owen asked, approaching the counter.

  Colette held up the poster. “This one…where Shauna works.”

  A look of distaste crossed his face. Shauna wasn’t sure if was because he didn’t approve of such a facility or because Colette had said Shauna worked there.

  “Is that the place where Neal Austin’s father is?” he asked.

  “Aye,” Shauna replied. “Mr. Adler is the perfect example of a patient that has benefited from being there. He looked much better last Thursday. But doona fash, ye doona have to attend.” That hope was dashed with his next sentence.

  “Of course I will escort you.”

  “An excellent idea,” Colette exclaimed. “I will ask Robert to escort me.”

  “I thought ye said your father would go,” Shauna said.

  “Non. I said Papa would make a donation—and he will. Papa likes to see me with friends my own age.” She turned to Owen. “You would not mind if we join you as foursome, would you?”

  He gave her a big smile. “I would be absolutely delighted. Captain Henderson should be honored to be your escort.”

  “Merci,” Colette answered, dimples appearing in her cheeks.

  Shauna managed to stifle a groan. Now not only was she going to have to endure an afternoon with Owen, but she would be subject to watching Colette fawn all over Robert as well? How could the week get any worse?

  Apparently, the week could get worse.

  Not only was Owen going to escort Shauna to the open house, but he was sitting beside her at dinner on Wednesday evening with a smug smile as he faced Robert seated opposite them. He’d managed to work in soon my bride-to-be at least once in the conversation so far and then moved on to another topic before Shauna could protest. And the overly possessive way in which Owen filled her plate—not asking what she wanted on it—made her want to scream, even though she was not the screaming type.

  Shane had returned from Calais, none too happy to find out Shauna had not taken a chaperone with her when she went to the office. If the dark looks he sent her way were any indication, he’d be talking to her in the library shortly. She wanted to laugh. Colette had been the best and worst chaperone Shauna could have had.

  “I picked up several orders for kelp ash while I was in France,” Shane said. “It looks to be a profitable spring.”

  Owen nodded. “I have been thinking more about investing in kelp. Pe
rhaps we should take a trip to Glasgow to determine the feasibility of profits from the sea beds there?”

  “A good idea.” Shane glanced at Shauna and then turned to Robert. “Ye might want to accompany us since I suspect the States might be a good market for the ash as well.”

  Robert nodded. “I’ve not been to Glasgow. I would like to establish trade along the west coast.”

  Shauna kept her face impassive. Given her cousin’s disproval of the handling of the office last week, Shane was probably asking Robert to accompany them so he would not be left here with her. She bristled. Sometimes Shane could be as bad as Ian or Jamie. She didn’t need any more possessive males in her life.

  “Are ye going to leave Abigail and me by ourselves?”

  Shane gave her the scrutinizing expression he used when he was trying to delve behind what was said to what was meant. “Ye will nae be alone with Albert well and the three footmen to protect ye. That is,” he added, lifting one brow slightly, “if ye doona leave the house without waiting for one of them.”

  “I will personally speak to each of the footmen to make sure they understand that I wish my soon-to-be wife protected,” Owen said.

  He’d done it again. Shauna stabbed a piece of meat with her fork, thinking how satisfying it would be to prick one of Owen’s fingers instead. “I dinna—”

  “I will speak to the footmen,” Shane said, eyeing Shauna’s fork and frowning, “since I want both Abigail and Shauna protected.”

  Robert was watching her too, but she thought she saw his mouth twitch.

  “Perhaps while you are in Glasgow, Henderson, you might want to ride on,” Owen said. “The Isles are riddled with MacDonalds.”

  Shane gave him a sharp glance. “Why would that matter?”

  “Well…Henderson is a MacDonald.” Owen managed to look contrite. “I thought you knew.”

  “A MacDonald.” Shane leaned back and looked at Robert. “Do ye seek your kin then?”

  Robert glanced at Owen and then back to Shane. “I had not thought about it. My father left when I was young. I don’t remember him speaking much of family, but my grandmother was a MacDonald.”