Caribbean Scot

by Kimberly Killion

  Robbie crossed her arms, unimpressed. He knew better. Reid, Fergus, and Robbie had dabbled in alchemy in Grandda’s work-house in their youth. “Have ye knots for brains? Fire cannae burn without air.”

  “I’m merely demonstrating. Patience, love.”

  Her stance loosened, her arms uncoiled. Why did she melt a little when he called her that?

  “Watch. I’m about to impress ye.” He set a tiny crystal in a pocket inside the globe. Again, he lit the wick and returned the cork.

  The flame burned bright and steady.

  “What say ye to that, Mary-Robena Wallace?” Reid asked, his tone full of bluster.

  Her heart thudded, waiting for the flame to go out, but it did not. Her mouth lay open in utter amazement. “Reid, this is an immense discovery.”

  “’Twas Xitali’s discovery, not mine. She used the crystals to breathe underwater, but I do not posses the wit to figure out how.”

  Robbie pulled her gaze away from the flame as understanding set it. “’Tis why ye need me?”

  Reid opened his mouth, but whatever he intended to say never formed into words. For long uncomfortable moments he only stared at her with those steel-gray eyes. The attraction between them was impossible to ignore. He wanted her. ’Twas not a fact he attempted to hide.

  He raised his hand to her face and feathered the backs of his fingers over her scarred cheek. That simple touch made her ache for the impossible.

  Desire was present in his gaze, but his demeanor shifted with a deep inhale. His crooked grin curved his sad eyes into half moons. “You are smart, Robbie. When we reach the Yucatán, we’re going to dive from the Well of Sacrifice and swim to the reservoir. I need you to figure out how we’re going to accomplish such a feat without drowning.”

  “Have ye conducted tests? What do ye know about the crystals?”

  “Verra little.” He pivoted on his heel and strode toward the door. “I’ll tell you want I know as soon as I get more nuts.”

  Nuts? Holy Loki! She rushed out of the cabin and bent over the rail of the captain’s deck. “I’m going to need more than bluidy nuts!”

  “The crew is at your beck and call, m’lady.” He dipped a bow and disappeared down the afthatch.

  Robbie’s mind reeled as she mentally inventoried a list of supplies she would need to begin testing; a tub of water, salt, twine—

  “Bonjour, ma chaton.” Jean-Pierre waved from the helm.

  Having no idea what the Frenchman said, Robbie offered him a weak smile. “Jean-Pierre, are there sheep among the livestock below deck?”

  “Oui. Have you a taste for mutton this eve?”

  “Aye. But I want the bladder. Raw,” she added quickly, then spotted Duncan and a Mopán laddie at the starboard rail. “Duncan, I’ve a task for ye and Cocijo.”

  “Name it, Miss Mary, and ’tis done.” The two laddies looked as eager to help her as she was eager to help Reid.

  “Think ye two can fetch me a couple rats?”

  Duncan discussed the task with Cocijo in his native tongue. Both boys shrugged, then Duncan turned back to Robbie. “Would ye be wantin’ those rats dead or alive?”

  “Alive.”

  * * *

  Reid wondered if the full moon caused the crew’s foul mood, or if it was the fact their casks of spirits had run dry two nights past. Regardless, every man aboard itched to lay anchor, Eoin being the most eager of all.

  “Draw the sails,” Reid shouted to the topmen overhead and strode toward the prow where Eoin gripped the starboard rail. Warm dry air blanketed the Obsidian as they glided into Rum Cove. ’Twas not where Reid intended to port, but enough supplies could be gained for the sennight it would take to reach the Yucatán.

  Reid struck a flint and lit a cigar for his cousin. The sweet smoke curled between them and seemed to muffle Eoin’s ripe stench. The wretch’s constant snarl likely had to do with his dependence on the drink, but Reid suspected Eoin was none too happy about the amount of time Robbie spent in the cabin experimenting with the crystals. She worked day and night conducting tests which had produced little results thus far, but Reid continued to encourage her and held the utmost confidence she would stumble onto something.

  Eoin drew on the cigar, staring off at the firelight glowing from the island docks. “Is this the land ye abandoned the clan for?”

  The man wanted to pick a fight did he? Reid retrieved his gold coin from his pocket and began the soothing rhythmic roll. With Robbie in his cabin out of earshot, Reid was more than eager to play with his cousin. In fact, he’d prepared words days ago for the occasion. “We’ve yet to reach the Yucatán, but I trust you’ll be going ashore with the others before we resume our journey on the morrow. Fear not, cousin. I’ll see to Robbie’s comforts whilst you slake your needs.”

  Eoin drew up a wad of mucus and launched the hawker over the rail. He glared at Reid with narrowed dark eyes. “Are ye insinuating that I’ve been unfaithful to Robbie?”

  “’Tis not of import where you dipped your wick in the past, but by all means I encourage such debauchery in your future.” Reid goaded the man on purpose. “But before you embark on such an escapade, I’ve a matter to discuss.”

  Eoin splayed his arms wide, a mocking gesture to grant Reid continuance.

  “I want the chieftainship back, and I want Robbie. I’m willing to barter an exorbitant amount of coin for your concession.” He snatched the coin into his fist for emphasis.

  “Holy Christ!” Eoin’s laughter turned into a coughing fit, which was the reaction Reid expected, but the wretch wouldn’t be so jovial when they finished the conversation.

  “We both know I can lay claim to the chieftainship of Clan MacGregor. Da was the eldest of our sires, and I am your senior.”

  “By two months, cousin.” Eoin leaned against the rail and sucked his cigar until the embers burned bright orange. He blew a cloud of swirling smoke between them. “You’d be hard pressed to gain the servitude of a clan ye abandoned years past.”

  “They are starving. You’ve provided them with no place to call home. I could buy their loyalty with a warm bed and a hot bit of fare. As a result of Da’s good standing with the Crown, I am at liberty to petition King James and repeal the proscription against Clan MacGregor, which would free you from bartering with the Laird of Luss.”

  “What is to stop me from taking the gold and doing the same?”

  “King James will not barter with a MacGregor, but I am known to him as Peter Wallace’s son. As for the gold,” Just the thought of Eoin bartering with the Jaguar King was entertaining. “It belongs to B’alam—the Mopán chieftain. There is a reason their clan has survived a hundred years of Spanish invasion, and I can assure you, the Jaguar King would sooner drink from your skull than give you his gold.”

  The latter image turned Eoin’s smug expression into a scowl clearly visible beneath his heavy dark beard. “And this Mopán chieftain will give ye the gold for what reason?”

  “I’ve lived among his people for eleven years. I speak their language and respect their choice of religion. I’ve hunted with them and fought alongside their warriors to protect their lands and their people. I’ve earned their respect the same way I’ll regain the respect of Clan MacGregor.”

  The moonlight cast eerie shadows over Eoin’s face. His jaw twitched. A vein in his temple pulsed. Reid had the man on the chopping block, and he was fully prepared to wield the ax.

  “I’ll not barter for the chieftainship.”

  “But you’ll barter for Robbie.” He resumed his play with the coin to tempt the man.

  Eoin’s silence spoke volumes. ’Twas just as Reid anticipated. The fool cared more about protecting his status than he did about hanging on to his claim to Robbie, which was the sole reason Reid had threatened to take the chieftainship. “I’ll allow you to retain your position as the Gregarach. In exchange, I get Robbie for the gold.”

  “I have but to tell her of your offer to purchase her like a common whore to taint her
opinion of ye.”

  “And I have but to tell her about Fergus to taint her opinion of you,” Reid countered.

  Eoin pushed himself off the rail and fisted the hand not holding his cigar. “She is naught more than a soiled pleb. She isnae worth so much.”

  Reid feigned indifference, but inside he wanted to strike the scabbit down. ’Twas wrong to want to kill one’s own flesh and blood, yet the contempt curling Reid’s hands into fists was none other than pure hatred. He held Eoin’s glare, waiting for his concession. “Have we terms, cousin?”

  Dark eyes narrowed to near closed as Eoin contemplated his answer. He drew on his cigar, once, twice, then after the third exhale, he answered, “We have terms. But know there is one thing I’ll always possess.”

  Reid had what he came for. He cared little about possessions.

  Eoin leaned into Reid’s ear. “Regardless of how much gold ye offer, you’ll never have enough coin to buy back Robbie’s virginity.”

  Reid’s jaw popped, his muscles flexed, wanting to break Eoin in two. Jean-Pierre’s sudden appearance beside them saved Eoin from the pummeling he deserved.

  “Preparations are in order, Capitaine. Shall I give the commands?”

  “Nay. We are finished here. Ready the longboats and do be sure to take my cousin ashore. I dare say he is in need of Giselle’s services.” Reid stormed away shouting orders, “Clear the anchor. Batten down the canvas…”

  Within a short period of time the majority of the crew had deserted the Obsidian in favor of a single eve of lust-filled debauchery. Waves slapped against the hull in a billowy hum but did little to sooth Reid’s petulance.

  “Henrik.” Reid caught the Englishman with one leg over the rail ready to descend the hanging rope ladder.

  “Will you be going ashore, Captain?”

  “Nay. I’ve other matters to tend. I trust you to acquire enough provisions to get us to the Yucatán. I’ve another task for you as well. Barter with Madame Francisca for suitable garments for Robbie; a lightweight gown, undergarments, mayhap new footwear. The cost is of no import.”

  “Giselle’s dressmaker?”

  “Madame Francisca once assisted the personal modiste of Anne Juliana Gonzaga. I’m certain she has something suitable for a virtuous woman.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Reid stalked toward his cabin and paused with his hand on the lever, waiting for his ire to lessen.

  She is naught more than a soiled pleb.

  Eoin would never have the satisfaction of degrading Robbie again. If the man spoke a single ill word, Reid would grind the bastaird beneath his heel.

  He pulled the handle down and prepared to face the woman he’d all but purchased for the price of a small kingdom. ’Twas time he and Robbie stop fighting their attraction. When he pushed the door open, he found her sleeping on the desk facing an empty sandglass. He was to blame for her exhaustion. The woman had made it her personal quest to create vital air.

  He pulled back the coverlet on the bed he’d only risen from a couple hours before then approached the desk. After untying the twine, he peeled the deflated bladder off the privy pot—the contraption she’d built for her experiments. Inside was another dead rat which he quickly discarded out the back of the cabin. He didn’t know if she was making progress, but the rat population in the stock hold had diminished considerably.

  He slipped an arm behind her knees and cradled her back, then raised her out of the chair without effort. For a tall woman, she weighed no more than a small child. Now that he thought on it, she only ate when he shoved food in her hands, which obviously wasn’t often enough.

  Careful not to disturb her slumber, he set her gently atop the down stuffed mattress, removed her old brogues and stockings, then pulled a thin blanket to just above her breasts. Bent on one knee, he simply stared at her for long moments, watching the rise and fall of her chest beneath the drapes of wool. ’Twas madness, but what he felt for her hadn’t faltered since the day he left Scotland.

  “Sleep well, love,” he whispered and untangled a curl out of her closed lashes. He laid his lips against her soft, warm cheek and worried over the battle ahead of him—the battle to possess her heart.

  Her eyes slid from closed to half opened then back in her drowsy state. She said nothing but cupped his cheek with her small hand and stroked his lips with the pad of her thumb.

  The tickle was maddening, and he would have given her what her touch implied she wanted if the pain in her eyes hadn’t froze him. He might have mistaken drowsiness for sadness until a tear slipped over her temple.

  He caressed her brow, tortured by the anguish in her emerald eyes. “What is it, love?”

  “I wish you’d come back sooner.” Her hand fell away and her eyes sealed shut.

  For the first time since Da died, Reid experienced a pain so fierce in his chest he wanted to weep.

  9

  ~ SEDUCTION ~

  The warm silk against her legs felt positively sinful. Robbie refused to open her eyes knowing the perfectly wonderful dream surrounding her in splendor would vanish. She stretched and wiggled her toes—her bare toes. Oh, aye, she had to be dreaming. She always slept with her brogues on so she could run if the need presented itself.

  Or mayhap she’d died. Suffocated like a rat in one of her experiments. The air she breathed was warm, damp, and a subtle weight lay against her face.

  A frown awoke the muscles in her face just before she punched her way out of red silk sheets. Morning light blinded her, but her accommodations were unmistakable.

  Holy Loki! She’d slept in Reid’s cabin. No, ’twas worse. She’d slept in Reid’s bed.

  She jerked upright. Hair stung her face when her head whipped to the side. Part of her expected to find Reid sprawled out beside her—in the flesh—as that’s all he’d been wearing in her dream.

  Thank the gods, he wasn’t there.

  When she bolted out of the bed and scanned the cabin to find her brogues, a simple yellow gown draped over the foot of the bed caught her eye. Sprinkled with a tiny print of green ivy, the garment had short sleeves trimmed in white ruffles. Beside the gown was a sleeveless undershift made of thin linen with scalloped lace trimming the hem. An ivory corset so stiff it held its form added to the display.

  Robbie looked down at her flat chest. Having the breasts of a blossoming young girl prevented her from ever needing such a contraption, but it was nonetheless an exquisite piece of craftsmanship.

  On the floor sat a pair of yellow silk slippers adorned with green beads around the toes. And lastly was a gold bauble strung with turquoise and emeralds.

  Seconds ticked by before she felt brave enough to touch any of it. Much to her disappointment, the bracelet was far too big for her skinny wrist, but the gown she could easily see herself in. She held it against her and looked down at its simplicity. It was perfectly beautiful.

  A thick knot formed in her throat. She’d never been privy to such finery.

  “Good morrow, love.” A smooth husky voice she was coming to recognize sounded from the doorway. Arms crossed, Reid leaned against the frame with one booted foot crossed over the other. “The color suits you.”

  Her heart did a little dance, and she didn’t even try to hide the smile that stretched her lips over her teeth. “Did fairies come during the night?”

  “Nay. I had Henrik procure the garments from a woman who once assisted the modiste to the Archduchess of Austria. The gown is made of cotton and more suitable to a hotter climate.”

  Feelings of neglect made Robbie frown. “We docked?”

  “Aye, but I fear you slept through it. We’ve been traveling at a speed of ten knots for the past few hours.” He must have sensed her disappointment for he continued to console her. “Dinnae fret overmuch. Rum Cove was no place for a woman.”

  She resisted the urge to stomp. “The modiste was a woman. Am I to believe there were no other women at this port?”

  “No women of propriety.” Why the rogue co
ntinued to grin was beyond her comprehension, lest these women of ill repute were responsible for his jovial mood. Mayhap the whores relieved his tension.

  Jealousy had her nails digging into her palms. “Did ye go ashore?” Why had she asked that? If the man wanted to go ashore and lay with the tarts, then so be it.

  “Nay. Everything of value to me is on board the Obsidian.” His stance softened, specs of blue twinkled in his silver eyes.

  His flattery shouldn’t have tamed the green beast inside her, but it did. She broke the hold between their gazes and studied the pattern of ivy on the gown. With Reid’s moral conduct intact, she posed the question she should have asked foremost. “Did Eoin go ashore?”

  “He was the first one in the longboats.”

  “Of course.” That answer didn’t surprise her. “I’m certain he was anxious to feel the ground beneath his feet. The man has little fondness for water since he nearly drowned. Ye remember the incident.”

  Reid nodded and blew a dramatic exhale. “Is it difficult for a woman of your intelligence to feign such ignorance?”

  Blast him! He knew nothing of her and the difficulties she’d endured. Furious, she threw the gown atop the bed and stomped toward the exit, but Duncan and Cocijo appeared in the doorway, each carrying two pails of steaming water.

  “Captain said ye might be needin’ water for your experiments.” Duncan entered the cabin and poured the contents of his pails into the oblong wooden tub she used to test her theories. Cocijo repeated Duncan’s actions with another two pails, filling the tub three-quarters full.

  She narrowed her eyes on Reid. “I already had water.” She knew full well he intended to pamper her with a much needed bath. Did the man think he could woo her with fine garments and hot water?

  Duncan’s thin lips spread into a grin full of crooked yellow teeth. “Weel, now ye have more and ’tis hot.”

  “I hardly need hot water for my experiments.” She crossed her arms and tapped her bare toe, determined to prove she wasn’t so easily swayed.