“Aye, Niall is never far from my thoughts. Our sire and his mercenaries wish to make us suffer. ‘Tis the nightmare that has brought me to ye, Jenny. They tried to kidnap and kill ye. With yer death, I would have lost my soul. Until Niall is found alive, and returned to the chiefdom, and my father captured or defeated, danger lurks.”
“We nearly defeated Angus,” she whispered.
“Without a doubt, my sire shall try again.”
“Are we safe? Here, inside the walls of Castle Ruadh?”
“Aye, love.” Drawing her into his chest, he kissed her forehead and held her, as she fell asleep. Drifting toward a dream state, Gavin feared that if Niall was forever lost to their clan, he would be forced to continue as their laird. If he placed Jenny at his side, without first dealing with his evil sire, disaster could strike them down. Gavin feared that his attention would forever stray to her lips and breasts. Her kisses tasted like sunshine and honey.
Thinking of her attributes, he felt himself stiffen. He would let the lass sleep, yet his mind wandered, recalling the small cabin where he and Jenny had taken refuge, after they had traveled to the future. In the darkness of a moonlit night, he had pushed the door open, spoken a spell, and tossed the conjured light into the darkness beyond. It had illuminated the entire room. As he crouched, several winged creatures fled through the open door.
Bats.
Ever since he and Niall had explored a cave beneath the cliffs, he had never felt a fondness for what he referred to, as flying rats. Their secret cave, discovered during a hunting trip, was near Castle Ruadh. His sire had sent his sons, along with a dozen of his men, to gather food along the shore and nearby forest.
An odd realization struck Gavin and drove him to sit up. Sinclair land did not extend to the sea. When they had hunted and fished, they were poaching on the property of another clan!
“That bastard…”
“What’s wrong?” Jenny asked. She had slipped from his arms, and gazed up at him from her pillow.
He shook his head, because she would not understand. His father had no honor, even back then. The cave in question never frightened Niall. In fact, he claimed it was where pirates left their treasure. Even if it were true, Gavin had no plans to return to the dark, damp cave. Niall visited the cave often, because he thought of pirates as heroes. He always returned without treasure, but with a great smile upon his face.
Gavin figured Niall had taken a woman, or two, with him to that cave. Niall was a lusty bastard, more so, since gaining battle scars. He was still a well-admired lad, but spread his seed regardless of the consequences.
If Niall still lived, Gavin would return him home, and make him laird. If not, he would seek out any woman claiming to have birthed Niall's child. Once grown, the child should be laird. Then Gavin could slip away into darkness.
He had tried to convince his brother not to leave Tulac Castle, but failed. Even after their sire had disappeared with his mercenaries, Niall had chosen to remain with his men. That decision may have cost him his life.
Wrenching his thoughts away from his brother, Gavin settled back into his pillow, and turned on his side, facing Jenny. He smiled, holding her closer to share their body heat. When soft snores told him she had fallen asleep, he relaxed.
They were safe, inside Castle Ruadh. An open window allowed sea air in, and a stiff ocean breeze brushed hair off his face. With his hands wrapped around the soft curves of the lass from the future, whom he had come to love, he remembered he had an obligation to find Niall. An idea arose. He must interview his brother’s lover. Was she the witch who had aided his sire?
“I must find my brother, and I must see Lana.”
Gavin ignored the sour expression suddenly appearing on Jenny’s face. “I thought ye were asleep, love.”
“Who’s Lana?”
He groaned. No such luck.
***
Niall squinted inside the cavern, and peered into the eyes of the captain’s son. Had any of his unions with various lasses produced a child?
“Join me over here, Mr. Green,” the captain ordered.
When he realized she was talking to him, he straightened. “Aye, Captain.”
Raven growled some undecipherable words, and stood at the cavern’s entrance. Niall followed the captain, and Keegan skipped along beside him. Farther into the cave, carrying a torch Raven had lit, she turned and raised her cupped hand to her mouth.
“Raven, keep a watch. Once I decide what we will take, I will send Mr. Green back with a request for men, and sacks.”
Keegan tugged on his mother’s shirtsleeve. “Do ye feel ‘tis safe? We doono’ know much about this fool.”
“Who ye be calling a fool?” Niall clenched his fists at his sides, and Keegan laughed.
“If Raven had said those words, I would have planted my fist in his face.”
The lad’s eyes opened wide with shock, and he hid behind his mother.
“Keegan, apologize to Mr. Green.”
Keegan peeked from under the captain’s arm. “I am sorry if my words came out muddled. We doono’ know who ye are, so I am cautious. Harm the captain, and ye shall answer to me.”
“I shall no’ harm her. I wish to work with ye.” Niall waited for the captain to order him to leave, or continue ahead. As the silence lingered, he glanced at the cave’s high walls. He had not been back in four or five years, which is why he had never seen the stores the pirates had piled on top of his old pallet.
Are those gold coins tumbling from an open satchel?
Barrels, boxes, and baskets laden with food, utensils, and wool were propped beside wagon wheels, plows, swords, and shields. A stack of what looked like gold ingots was a surprise. While he waited for instructions, he knew that if he could slip away, he would head for Castle Ruadh.
If he was correct, the cottage of Lana Sinclair, his former mistress, was close. When she had grown too familiar, expecting him to dote upon her, and bring her gifts, he had grown weary of their relationship. She dabbled in witchery, the only thing on this earth he feared, but when he severed their relationship, she cut him beneath his eye with a dagger.
He had searched in vain for a life partner, someone he could count on. Until he and his men captured or killed Angus Sinclair, there was no room in his wayward life for a wife and children.
“I want to bring as much of these supplies with us, as we can. Many of my crew will repair the damages to The Black Thistle, while we fill the hold.”
“Aye, the hold is fairly dry, though I doono’ think I shall get the stench out of my nose for some time.”
The captain smiled, and her eyes sparkled beneath the torch’s flame. “Your assistance was appreciated.”
“I hope the men feel I have proved myself a useful addition to yer crew.”
The torchlight flickered, as if a stray breeze sought to plunge the two of them into darkness. He stepped closer and cupped her soft cheek. Would she scream, draw her dagger, or kiss him?
He dreamed the last of those three choices won out.
She stepped back. “You saved Jamie, and helped drain the hold. Help us load our skiffs, and we will talk about it. Over dinner.”
“Dinner? Together?”
“It isn’t a date.”
“A date? Do ye mean a private assignation?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, but she did not smile.
“Just dinner. If you mind your manners, we can dine in my cabin. We can talk more about how you came to be floating unconscious, in the sea.”
He nodded. He was not looking forward to another public interrogation, so dinner alone with her, was welcome. If the first mate did not join them in her cabin, he would have another chance to prove his usefulness. In many ways.
“How’s your eye?” She stepped closer and raised the torch.
He flinched.
“I’m sorry. The light bothers you?”
He readjusted the soggy bit of wool. “Show me what I can do to help. I assume this landing is a secret event. D
o ye no’ worry others will discover yer cave?”
“Several of my men keep watch. When we leave, we will cover the cave entrance. No one has found our belongings, as yet.” She pointed to the piles of goods.
“Belongings? Looks more like stolen bounty.”
She huffed, bristling at his accusation. “Do you have no one to care for, Balfour? I have a village to feed.” She headed farther into the dark, with the torch the only light.
He hurried after her, and light footsteps followed. Keegan was a bright, loving child and Niall hoped he no longer feared him. The boy was small. A lack of good food might have stunted his growth.
“May I hold the torch, captain?” the lad said, trotting beside his mother. He had a face filled with the charming innocence of youth, and wanted to help his mother for no other reason than he wished her to smile. When she smiled down at her son’s cherubic grin, Niall gulped. She ought to smile more often. To keep her enticing fragrance from stiffening his cock, he followed the pair at a distance, close enough to her torch to prevent him from stumbling in the dark.
“No, Keegan. I need you to help carry baskets to the skiff.” She turned to Niall. “These baskets contain loomed linen, and those are filled with dyed wool. We used to shear our own animals, but the English slaughtered our sheep. We procured some animals far north of our new home, but until we increase our herd, we have to trade for wool.”
“Yer home is near?”
She ignored his question, and pointed to a small alcove.
He stepped closer to the shadows. “What be in these sacks?”
“Potatoes that we…confiscated from a ship bent on replenishing an English fortress.”
Niall chuckled. “Are those apples in the other basket?”
“Yes. We borrowed these from the orchard of a nearby castle. I hope they don’t miss them.”
“Borrowed, ye say? Do ye plan to return them?”
Blair smiled, and her son laughed. The echo of their unabashed mirth thundered through the cavern, breaking whatever spell had made his body harden with lust.
“Keegan, can you carry that basket of wool to the skiff?”
“Aye!” He dragged it toward the mouth of the cave.
“Yer lad wants verra’ bad to please ye.”
“He’s a good boy. I am trying to put meat on his bones, but it is hard to do, without any real meat. He doesn’t care for fish, or mutton. Cook has tried, but…” Her voice faded, and she glanced at her boots. Was she ashamed her child went hungry?
“As I mentioned earlier, I am verra’ good with a bow. I could take down a stag for yer table. ‘Tis more use of my skills, than filling a skiff with potatoes.”
“I don’t think…”
The semi-dark cavern was slowly growing warmer, because she was still too near. Scuffing his bare toes in the cave’s sandy floor, rivulets of perspiration dripped down his back. They had not offered him footwear, most likely because they still considered him a flight risk.
Which I am.
If he could fell a stag to feed the boy and crew, he could escape in the hunt’s exciting aftermath.
As long as they doono’ saddle me with a guard.
Niall had to sway the captain, and soon. “Raven would no’ approve. I understand ye must abide by his wishes--”
“Wait just a damn minute! Raven doesn’t tell me what to do! I’m the boss.”
“Boss?”
“Um, captain. Laird. Chieftain.”
“I am neither, but I am a huntsman. I would love to bring down a large buck for yer table.” Walking closer to her, he added, “The boy needs meat.”
She sighed, and he stepped so close, he could see the perspiration dotting her forehead. He admired the shadows outlining the roundness of her cheeks, and the valley betwixt her breasts.
Her gaze lifted, locking on his. She lowered her arm until the torch dropped to the sandy floor. His fingers swept across her cheek, reveling in the silky softness of her skin. Beneath the surface, the heat of her blood was unlike the cool sand under his feet.
She had wrapped a linen sash around her forehead, and he secretly wished to remove it, and loosen her braid. He yearned to feel her red hair flowing freely over her shoulders, and down her back. Instead, he backed her against the cave wall.
Enveloped in near-total darkness, he settled his mouth on hers, waiting and expecting her to protest. When she did not, he pressed his chest against her breasts. Releasing her mouth, he took a deep breath. Her fragrance filled him, as she laid her head against his chest. Slipping a hand between them, he cupped a breast. Her moan echoed through the darkness, and stirred his loins, until he grew as hard as the cavern’s rock walls. Barely constrained by his borrowed breeches, his arousal twitched. When he leaned into her, pressing the swollen ridge of his manhood against the soft roundness of her belly, she jerked her head up, slamming his teeth together.
“Aghhh!”
“Stop! Let me go!”
Niall stepped away, dropping his hands to his sides. He silently cursed his lusty behavior, as it would not help to frighten her, setting her against his cause to join her crew. “I beg yer pardon, lass, but ye looked verra’ inviting. I lost my head.”
“Damn right, you lost something! Brains!”
“Captain?” The lad appeared with another torch.
Blair straightened the sash that had gone askew, and tugged on her shirt. “What is it, Keegan?”
“The men are waiting for more baskets.”
She pointed to several more, and Keegan pulled one toward the boats. Niall grabbed sacks of potatoes, and some other root vegetable, hoisted them onto his shoulders, then followed him to the beach. Pirates were everywhere. If he was to make his escape, the hunt was the best chance for freedom.
Raven stood near one of the skiffs, pointing and commanding the men packing the goods. If Blair would not listen, perhaps he could change the first mate’s mind.
“My pardon, sir,” Niall said, as he passed his burden to another man, “I would like to hunt. I am an excellent shot, and could bring down a stag with ease.”
“Ye mean for me to give ye a weapon?”
“I doono’ ask for a weapon, but for a tool. I want to help.”
Raven sneered, and looked toward the captain, walking toward the waiting boats, with her son by her side.
“What say ye?”
“I would enjoy roast venison. Let us plan,” Raven said.
Niall kept his face expressionless, and nodded. Raven waited for the captain, and Keegan, to reach the boats. He said something to her, and she appeared to weigh his words. When she glanced at Niall, he smiled. When he passed them, heading back to the cave, he kept his head down. Grabbing two more large sacks, he returned, and handed the sacks of food into the skiff.
“Green, let’s talk.”
He turned, and walked to the pair. Raven had crossed his arms over his chest. “Please. Call me Balfour.”
“The captain has agreed to give ye a chance to bring us fresh meat. Three men shall follow close at yer heels, also with bows. If ye attempt an escape, they shall bring ye down as quickly as if ye were an old sow.”
“Quite the picture ye paint. Dusk approaches. ‘Tis perfect timing. I will make quick work of downing a stag. Can I borrow a pair of boots?”
“Nay.”
He had tried. A seaman thrust a longbow into his hands. Another handed him one arrow. He quirked an eyebrow.
“I assume ye can bring a stag down with one arrow. If ye miss, one of my men will give ye another.”
The thought of escaping with the help of only one arrow, was not great. The best course was to take down the stag, and disappear while the men fiddled with gutting the beast, or when they tied it, in order to transport the carcass to the ship. He would love to stay until Cook served roasted slabs of fresh venison, but escape was imperative.
He regretted leaving behind an interesting woman like Captain Blair MacIan. She had responded to his kisses, and his constant yearning to
taste her sweetness was not something he could deny. Perhaps they would meet another time.
Once his face and body healed, and he removed the eye patch, she could pass him in the street without recognizing him. It was just as well. Dallying with a pirate had no future. She was not Scottish born, either. If he should return to his clan as their laird, they would never accept her as his mate.
I would.
Bill sidled closer with a pair of old boots in his hands. Niall fought the urge to smile. The well-worn boots were a trifle large, but they would protect his soles from the prickly gorse bushes and fallen twigs and pinecones that filled the forest. He was unsure whether he could run in them, but the hunt was on.
“Who shall be my companions?”
Raven strode over to where Niall stood with Bill. “Yer guards, ye mean?”
Nodding, Niall waited as three grim-looking men joined them. They each held a smaller bow, several arrows in a quiver on their backs, and daggers at their waists.
“The men feel they be following ye on a wild goose chase. Or, they are unhappy one of them might have to shoot ye, when ye try to run,” Bill said.
Niall turned toward the men. “I plan to shoot a stag, to bring a filling supper to Cook’s table. I understand ye must watch me, but stay silent and undercover, so ye doono’ scare away the beasties.”
Grinning, happy with the knowledge that freedom was at hand, he followed the men up a stony outcropping that resembled stairs. These were as familiar as the cave, and he knew that he could reach Castle Ruadh from here.
Pausing at the top of the grassy cliff, Niall gazed down into the cove, at the anchored pirate ship, then headed into the forest. Dusk was falling. He recalled a favorite hunting spot, and strode toward the castle.
“Hold on there, Balfour.”
Niall paused, and waited for the man, Thomas, to catch up. He held his ground and considered how to encourage them to allow him to lead. “What ‘tis yer concern?”
“There be a village in that direction. I doono’ believe a stag would venture close to cottages, and a castle. Head west.”
Niall nodded. He saw no sense in arguing, since he could still find his way to Castle Ruadh. As time passed, and the forest shadows grew larger, they walked silently. When a strong odor arose, followed by the rustling of branches, Niall grew wary. Crouching, he recognized that the smell was not from a deer, nor a human.
My Hunted Highlander Page 7