"Tis a fever," she whispered.
"What?" he murmured against her throat.
"I'm ill. I have a fever." Surely, that's what it was.
He chuckled, drew back a few inches and looked into her eyes, his own midnight-dark and filled with mirth. "In truth?"
"Aye, what else would cause me to be so insensible and feverish?"
His grin remained. "I do wonder, m'lady."
What was that tone he took with her? As if he thought her daft.
"I believe you," he said, placing her feet upon the floor. "You retain your virtue." He released her and walked away. She slid down the wall to the floor, hugging her drawn up knees. Saints, what had he done to her? She'd never experienced anything so powerful and sharp. Was it passion? Why should she feel passion for Darack? She'd obviously felt none for Alec. What had she felt for him? She'd found him attractive and ideal. Like a perfect man, she'd thought. The full-grown embodiment of her girlish fantasies. A charming prince come to life. But 'twas not so. He'd deceived her in every way.
And Darack, outlaw rogue, had kissed her and made her feel astounding things. Her body still felt afire from touching his. Out of her control. She wished—against her will—that he would do it again. Good lord, she even shocked herself. She was mad, surely!
But something about his lips, his deep kisses had struck a flint to the tinder within her. And his hard body pressing against hers… she could not brush the feel of him off her skin. Her slight muscles craved his far larger and harder ones, digging into her. As he'd held her up, his hips, his… manly parts had pushed up against her. And he was firm everywhere, his arm muscles bulging.
"I'm sorry," Darack said from several feet away, his back to her.
"As you should be," she snapped, but in her heart she knew she didn't mean it. She pressed her fingers against her burning lips.
Darack glared around at her and she lowered her hand, holding his gaze, trying for a brave front. She resented being so drawn to him. Not because he was a bad person, but because 'twas almost as if he assumed she was attracted to him before she even realized it herself. And most annoying of all, he was right. She found herself fascinated by him and could not force herself to stop.
***
Darack watched Mairiana as she moved to her pallet and lay down, keeping her gaze on him the entire time. What did she think? That he was going to attack her?
Ha.
Nay. Not attack, of a certainty. Seduction was a different matter entirely, however.
Damnation! That mad thought should go back to wherever it came from. She'd only just broken off her engagement with a murderous, thieving bastard. But at least now, after he'd kissed her, maybe she would realize it wasn't the end of the world. Other men found her attractive. She must realize she hadn't truly loved Alec anyway. Based on the way she'd responded to his kiss, nay, she couldn't have.
Though innocent, she had a natural, fiery passion. Saints, how he wanted to bring that to the surface again. Her kiss had enchanted him.
Darack dropped to the floor and reclined on his pallet opposite her. Resting his head on his bent arm and lowering his lids to slits, he watched her. Her eyes remained wide open, observing him for long minutes. What was she thinking? She'd called him a libertine and a rogue. She was not far off the truth, but he could never treat her as less than a respectable lady. Dugald would kill any man who took advantage of her. Not that Darack was frightened of him, but the MacKerrick chief had a large force of fighting men. Darack was one man alone; he'd made a habit of not provoking powerful chiefs. Nay, he liked Dugald and counted him as a friend. He was a no nonsense chief who spoke his mind. Darack respected that. 'Twas the kind of chief he would want to be, if only he could.
***
The next morn, after Darack and Mairiana had quickly broken their fast, they headed toward the ship in the cool, misty rain. They all suspected that Alec would leave someone watching for her at the docks. Because of this, she now wore a different plaid arisaid over her cloak so she would appear different from yesterday. With the cowl completely enveloping her head, she affected a limping, stooped gait while she held onto Darack's strong arm.
Likewise, he had borrowed a dark cloak from Felix, and now his head was covered in a cowl. Having left his own sword back at Dunmoris, Clan Grant's castle, in order to play the role of stall-mucker, Darack had borrowed a sword from his friend to help protect her. She prayed he wouldn't have to use the weapon.
Once on the galleon's deck, Mairiana glanced around in the gray dawn light to make sure no one was watching. Her gaze scanned the docks. A dozen or so men loitered there in different areas, but none were facing her direction.
"I don't think anyone saw us," she whispered, still holding onto Darack's arm, so strong and comforting.
He shook his head. "Come. I have to speak to the captain and get you out of this rain."
After they found Captain Madding, Darack spoke to the tall, graying man alone, then escorted her to the captain's cabin, which he'd allowed her the use of since she was the only lady on board.
After entering, Darack closed the door behind them. The salon of the captain's quarters was a small, confined space with a low ceiling. A wee table and two chairs occupied the center of the floor. Two more padded chairs sat to the side.
"I'm glad we'll be in here," she said. "'Tis cozy."
"You will be in here. I'll be guarding outside."
She frowned up at him. "But 'tis raining."
"That isn't rain. 'Tis only a mist." He gave a near imperceptible grin. "I have to keep an eye out. I don't want anyone slipping up on us."
"Oh." She had to admit she was disappointed, for she wanted to spend more time with Darack. She had enjoyed last night and could not get it out of her head.
He stepped closer and placed his fingertips along her jawline, making her heartrate triple. "Mairiana, I want you to know, I'll protect you." His dark eyes were solemn, and he seemed to be looking into her soul.
"I know you will. I never doubted it," she whispered.
He nodded, searching her face, looking as if he wanted to say more. Instead, he pulled her close and lowered his mouth to hers. His lips were warm, firm and gentle at first. Her heart thumped against her throat as she slipped her hands into his hair, needing him closer. With a sudden jolt, the kiss turned torrid and all-consuming.
Good heavens! This kiss was even more toe-curling than the one the night before, and she could not get enough of his addictive mouth.
With an abruptness that shocked her, he pulled away and faced the door. "Damnation! 'Tis why I must stay outside."
She did not know what to say to that. His kiss had left her speechless.
"Bolt the door and do not allow anyone inside, save me." Finally, he glanced back at her, his dark eyes smoldering with suppressed passion.
She swallowed hard and nodded.
He exited and closed the door.
***
As they sailed along the North Sea, Darack stood outside the captain's cabin door. The slight overhang protected him only marginally, for the strong winds whipped the light rain into his eyes. He kept the cowl over his head, concealing his identity, while he scanned every male passenger who strode by. He must protect Mairiana at all costs. During the night, something had changed—she'd become someone more important than simply his friend's sister.
The kiss they'd indulged in last night had shifted his view of her, and then the one a short time ago… it had near scorched his nerve endings. She had been so vibrant and passionate in his arms, a tantalizing combination of innocence and arousal. Each time, she accepted his kisses so damned eagerly. Arousal burned through him yet again, and he growled. The memories kept fogging up his mind, but he couldn't afford any distractions at the moment.
Two men approached, snagging his attention. One of them, heavy-set with a long brown beard, narrowed his eyes on Darack and subtly elbowed his lanky, blond comrade.
Damnation! Two of Alec's men—he recognized th
em from the ferry. When had they boarded the ship?
They continued on, pretending to ignore him, and disappeared around a corner. But they'd obviously recognized him, despite the cowl. He muttered a curse under his breath. Knowing they would return, Darack yanked the cloak off and out of his way, then drew the sword he'd borrowed from Felix. No other passengers roamed about in this misty rain, so the Lindsays had to be searching.
Just as he'd expected, the two charged around the corner toward him, swords drawn, then halted a few feet away when they saw he was well armed. "Where is Lady Mairiana?" the bearded man demanded. "Inside?" He motioned at the door. "We ken you kidnapped her."
Holding his sword in the guard position, raised and ready to strike should either of them make a move, Darack shook his head. "She left Lindsay because she chose to. She decided she didn't want to marry that murdering thief."
"How dare you besmirch the honorable name of the future Lindsay chief?" long-beard growled through his teeth. "You are naught more than a full grown stable lad."
Darack gave a bitter grin. "Call me what you will. Clearly, 'twill take more than two Lindsays to best me."
"Take him down, Calloway," long-beard ordered the younger man, then stood back.
"Aye, easy pickings, Hay." The tall, skinny blond launched himself from his guard stance and struck in the direction of Darack's neck.
Darack stepped forward and deflected Calloway's blade with his own, knocking it away. Lightning fast, he swirled his sword around and jabbed the tip toward the man's neck. The move was precise and powerful… and it met its mark. Calloway jumped back, screaming in pain, blood spurting from his wound. He collapsed to the deck with a thump and lay still.
Hay's eyes bulged and his mouth hung open. He seemed unsure what to do.
"Not a wise move to underestimate me," Darack told him.
"Darack!" Mairiana yelled from inside.
"I'm well," he called back. "Stay inside. Alec's men are on board."
She responded but he couldn't understand the words.
Lifting his sword and aiming straight ahead, the Lindsay guard named Hay charged. Darack merely dodged aside and sliced his blade across the man's shoulder as he barreled past him. Hay squawked in pain and spun about.
"What the hell?" The yell came from a man who rushed from the other end of the stern. A second man ran behind him, feet pounding the deck.
Damnation, how would Darack defeat three of Alec's men at the same time? He didn't know how, but he had to do it to protect Mairiana. He would die before he'd allow her to be dragged back to Alec Lindsay.
"He killed Calloway!" Hay yelled, nursing his shoulder wound.
"In a fair fight," Darack stated. "I don't want to kill the rest of you, but I will to protect the lady."
"I remember him from the stables," one of the newcomers said.
"Aye. His name is Grant." Hay pointed at the door. "The lady is in the captain's cabin."
"I'm taking her home to her brothers," Darack said.
"Ha!" Hay smirked. "You're heading far north of Chief MacKerrick's holdings. Toward the Grant lands, I'm thinking."
"I ken the way to Rornoch from either direction. Chief MacKerrick is a friend of mine."
"You lie! Why would a stable hand know a chief? Did you work for him?"
"Nay." Darack knew the man was trying to distract him, and he had no time to say more anyway. The man to the far left lunged forward, stabbing his weapon toward Darack's gut. He deflected the blade with a clang and shoved the bastard into Hay. The two toppled to the deck in a melee of plaid and clashing blades. The third man, the only one still standing, engaged Darack in swordplay, and he easily kept up with the thrusts and blocks.
The other two men regained their feet and stood by, their weapons raised. "Have no worries, m'lady," Hay yelled at the door. "We've come to rescue you from this knave."
"Nay, leave Darack be! I won't go back to Alec!" she shouted.
Darack parried and thrust, then found an opening. His blade sliding between the man's ribs, Darack made quick work of his opponent who howled and thudded to the bloody, rain-soaked deck.
The remaining two men converged on him at once, both of them smashing their blades against Darack's. Hay's blade sliced deeply into Darack's left arm, since he had no targe to protect it. The burning pain shot fury through him. He shoved Hay backward toward the rail. When he slammed into it, Darack lifted the man's legs upward and tossed him overboard. He shouted on the way down to the rough North Sea.
Now, only one enemy remained. Darack ground his teeth against the pain tearing through his arm. Fortunately, his sword arm had not been injured.
His foe charged him, his blade low. Darack leapt out of the way, but not quickly enough. The man crashed into him, knocking Darack to the deck. His head slammed painfully against the wood, disorienting him. The bastard stabbed the tip of his blade into Darack's side. A new pain consuming him, Darack retained enough sense and self-preservation to shove the other man's feet and legs upward, hoisting his enemy over the railing and sending him flying into the sea. The man screamed all the way down.
Still lying on the deck, Darack quickly glanced about to make sure no more Lindsays waited to attack him. Thank God, the deck was empty. He pushed himself to his feet, but darkness, dizziness and the pain in his head overcame him. He slumped back to the deck.
Chapter 8
"Darack!" Mairiana yelled. Panic raging through her, she banged her fist against the door. Horrified, she'd listened to the sounds of battle just outside the door—the sword clangs and men's yells. Had Darack bested them? If so, why wouldn't he answer her? He'd told her to keep the door locked, but what if he was injured? She would have to open it and see if he needed help.
"Darack! Answer me!" When he didn't, she quietly unlocked the door and cautiously peered out. He lay on the bloody deck beside two of Alec's men, all of them unmoving.
"Nay!" Her heart slamming into her throat, she ran to Darack and dropped to her knees. "Darack! Oh good heavens! Please don't let him be dead," she prayed, touching his face, feeling for his breath or any sign of life. She stilled her trembling hands enough to feel his breath gusting against her fingers. "Thank God." She glanced around the deck but saw no one. "Help!" she yelled. "Captain Madding!"
A crewman ran toward her. "What happened here?"
"A sword fight. Can you get help? My guard still lives. He needs a surgeon or healer."
"I'll be right back."
While she waited, she pressed her hands against Darack's warm skin, feeling his heartbeat and reassuring herself he still lived. But he was bleeding and she knew naught about injuries.
Moments later, three crewman carried Darack into the cabin, the captain following. "What happened?" he asked.
"I heard my guard being attacked outside the door." In fact, she'd heard four men's voices out there, besides Darack's. But she knew not what happened to the other two, unless Darack had thrown them into the sea. She had heard vanishing screams.
"Your guard?" Captain Madding's bushy white brows formed a frown. "He told me he's your husband."
"Oh." Mairiana didn't know Darack had told him that. "Aye, he is. We only married yesterday, but prior to that, he was my guard."
Captain Madding nodded, though his gaze remained wary. "He left the other men dead on the deck."
"I'm certain he had no choice. He was protecting me and himself. 'Twas self-defense." She moved toward Darack. The men had placed him on the suspended cot which swung slightly with the roll of the waves. One of the crewmen cut the left sleeve of Darack's blue doublet.
When Mairiana saw that his shirt was completely drenched in blood, panic blasted through her. "Oh good lord." She was not a healer… had never even assisted a healer. She had led a sheltered life, but this did not stop her from ripping at Darack's shirt sleeve so she could see the cut on his upper arm better. "Oh, saints! 'Tis a deep cut. He will need stitches. Do you have a surgeon on board?"
"My first mate perfor
ms surgeon duties. He has stitched me up a few times," Captain Madding said.
The captain looked healthy; maybe the first mate knew what he was doing. "Can you send him in, please?"
"Aye. I'll tell him to come quickly." Captain Madding exited the cabin, along with the three men who'd carried Darack in.
Now she was alone with him, and he was unresponsive.
"Darack, wake up, please," she begged.
He didn't move or make a sound. Had he lost so much blood, or had he been knocked out?
"God, help me," she whispered. "What am I supposed to do?" Her eyes searching his body, she opened his doublet and saw that blood drenched his side as well. "Oh no, not another cut."
She ripped his shirt open, revealing another gash at the bottom of his rib cage, on the side of his body. Blood oozed from it.
Icy horror consumed her and tears filled her eyes.
He had to be stitched up soon and the bleeding stopped. She ripped open his shirt to check for more injuries to his vitals but found none.
"Darack?" She touched his head, examining it to see if he had an injury there. Upon touching the back of his head, her fingers came away bloody. "Oh, good heavens," she whispered. How many more injuries did he have? She checked his legs and thankfully found no cuts there. Afraid she might hurt him, she did not want to turn him onto his side to check his back. Besides, she was unsure she had the strength to do this alone. Darack was tall and heavy with muscle.
The door burst open and a disheveled, gray-haired man with a scraggly beard entered carrying a satchel. He appeared the furthest thing from a surgeon she'd ever seen. She prayed he knew what he was doing.
"A good day to you, m'lady." He gave a brief bow. "I'm Sully. Cap'n says for me to stitch up your husband," he said.
Every time someone called Darack her husband, a flush of heat and pride filled her. And each time the description felt more real. "Aye, Sully. A pleasure to meet you. I'm Mairiana and this is Darack. Do you know a lot about injuries?"
Defended by a Highland Renegade Page 7