Her Highland Captain: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Beasts Of The Highlands Book 9)

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Her Highland Captain: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Beasts Of The Highlands Book 9) Page 7

by Alisa Adams


  Cristianna and Serena turned on the three women quickly with shocked faces. Cristianna shook her finger at them. “Dinnae forget; she dragged yer bodies in from those waves that almost battered the ship tae pieces!”

  Serena looked steadily at the three young women. “That does not seem like an evil person to me. She sacrificed her own life for all of ours,” she said softly.

  “Where has she been these many days?” Mery demanded, ignoring the point the other two women were making. “We spent all day sorting through the crates and got ourselves soaked through in this dreich weather. But where is that girl? She could be doing some of the chores around here!”

  Cristianna raised her chin. “She waits by the water, watching and hoping for rescue. She knows she isnae one of us and isnae comfortable joining us.” Cristianna did not add that Darling thought the men were all pirates and were wary of them.

  Serena added, “You wish for her to not only save your life but do your work for you?

  Mery and Jamys looked back and forth from Serena to Cristianna. Finally, they hung their heads in shame as they clasped their hands together in front of their wet skirts.

  Serena stared silently back at the tall girl who still stood by Captain MacLeod. Charlotte Lynn was not shaped in a womanly way, Serena thought. She was thin on top and thick through her hips and legs. Her breasts were flat, no matter how she adjusted her stays. She had odd ears that stuck out of her thin hair. At times she had seen her being very sweet and kind to the other young women in the cave, helping them get past their ordeal. Serena, however, did not know her, and she kept her guard up around those she did not know well. Charlotte Lynn seemed very good at creating trust within those around her, but Serena had become a very distrustful young woman in those dungeons.

  Serena had not seen Charlotte Lynn in the horrid confines of the dungeon but had heard rumors that she was a favorite of DeLeon’s and was reportedly kept in another area, away from the other women. Jamys and Mery had heard this as well. They had defended her for doing what she had to do to stay alive, and Serena, as well as Cristianna, could not find blame with her for this.

  “Ye are correct,” Chari Lynne said humbly. “I am letting my fear from all that I experienced in the pirate DeLeon’s dungeons get the best o’ me. When yer life is threatened, it changes ye. How dae ye manage, Lady Serena?” She glanced over to Cristianna. “How dae ye stay so strong, Lady Christina?” Her voice trembled, and tears filled her eyes.

  Cristianna raised her chin. “My name is Cristi-anna, nae Christina, Miss Chari Lynn,” she said in a clipped voice. How many times had she told this girl how to pronounce her name?

  Mery wrapped her arm around Charlotte Lynn’s waist and glared at Lawrence and then Serena and Cristianna. “How could ye think to let that girl come here? Do ye see what ye have done to Miss Chari Lynn? No one deserves to relive the horrors of that terrible place, and this poor girl has been through more than any of us!” Mery ended her tirade as she looked at the captain. “Ye cannae bring that DeLeon girl here! Let her sit out in the storm. ’Tis far less than what we endured,” she said hotly.

  Oger and Flain walked forward as Lawrence was staring with narrowed eyes at the women.

  Lawrence was struggling to contain his anger. He was seething. His temper was threatening to boil over and get the best of him, for many reasons. Few knew that DeLeon also traded in human flesh. Slaves. Taking people like Warwick’s sister, Cristianna, in retaliation for the loss of a ship. DeLeon hated Warwick for besting him at sea. And he was known to seek revenge in many ways.

  The three captains had rescued numerous people that day from DeLeon’s dungeons. He had no idea how or why most of them had ended up in DeLeon’s clutches, but women were bad luck on a ship. All of them, perhaps save for Cristianna and Serena. He was shocked at the other young women's treatment of Darling, who had saved each of those women from the wrecked ship and through tumultuous waves.

  Oger and Flain stepped forward into the circle of firelight, drawing Lawrence’s eyes from the women to them.

  “What do ye two have tae add tae this?” Lawrence demanded in a curt voice.

  Oger lowered his gaze; he could not remember what he wanted to say in defense of Darling. Neither could Flain, not when they saw how angry their captain was.

  Charlotte Lynn opened her mouth to say something but hesitated at Lawrence’s angry eyes. “The DeLeon girl—” she began.

  “Enough!” Lawrence roared as he stood up and looked around at the people in the cave. “Miss DeLeon pulled ye from the waters. We have milk and eggs...food, because of her. She saved yer lives, despite her thinking we are all pirates.” He paused, taking several breaths. “This is how ye would repay her? Dinnae judge this person by her father, for I believe she doesnae even know that he is a pirate. Ye have no say in this—none of ye. I am the highest rank here. I am an admiral serving under orders of the crown, and my word is law, just like my name. If any of ye dinnae like it, ye are welcome tae leave!”

  Warwick and Sandolf looked at the other men in the cave. The two of them stood up and came to stand on either side of Lawrence. They added their stern glances as they too let their eyes rake over each of the people in the cave.

  Flain joined them, and the four big men stared around the quiet cavern, meeting the eyes of the other men.

  “I stand with ye, Admiral Law!” Oger’s voice called out. Instantly, another voice repeated those words, then a chorus of people joined in to support Lawrence.

  Lawrence stared at them all with a grim, tight look. He nodded once and turned around, heading to the exit of the cave.

  War and Sandolf caught up with him. “Where are ye going, Brother?” War asked him as he and Sandolf came up beside him.

  “Where dae ye think? I am going to get the Lion,” he said without looking at them.

  Sandolf called after him, “I suggest ye put yer anger in a box by the time ye get tae her, Law!”

  Law’s steps slowed for just a moment as he grabbed two extra tartans, wrapping one around one of his shoulders. “I heard that,” he called back just as he went out into the storm.

  7

  Lawrence put his head down against the wind and the sideways rain as he walked down the beach, peering through the rain and darkness for Darling. He swore, for he was walking in such darkness and harsh rain he could see very little. He called out her name again, and then again and again. But each time, his voice was lost, drowned out in the heavy downpour of rain and the distant thunder.

  Suddenly, a reverberating boom of thunder overhead shook the ground, causing him to turn his face up to the sky and the rain, pelting at his face and hair. He knew what would come next.

  In a harsh, eerie, almost blinding flash of white, the lightning came, splitting the sky in two as its jagged arms struck out all around the beach like a living being. It reached with clawed, fiery white fingers, eager for destruction, landing on the jagged, broken piece of the mizzen mast left on his ship that was lying broken on the rocks. For a moment, his ship was lit up, showing every ghoulish piece of the torn, drenched sails hanging from the broken mainmast and foremast. The forecastle, bowsprit, and figurehead jutted defiantly up to the sky where the ship’s front had come to rest against the rocks.

  Lawrence stared at the figurehead. Its elaborately carved and painted angel was staring up and out to sea as if striving to get back out into the deep water and off the rocks. She looked spectacularly macabre in the eerie rain when lit up by the jagged lightning.

  Lawrence had to turn away from the wreck. He faced away from the water to the beach and waited for another burst of lightning to illuminate the dark beach. On the next crack of thunder followed by lightning, Lawrence peered around in the brief, eerie light. His eyes were drawn to the top of the beach, where he spotted a large shape that appeared to be a group of tall rocks. He waited for the next crack of lightning to illuminate the sky in its deadly light as he stared at that spot.

  There! I see something!


  Darling!” he shouted as he started running to the top of the beach, for he had seen a movement there amongst the rocks. “Darling!”

  As he got closer, he could hear her crying.

  He found her, sitting huddled against the tall rocks, her tartan over her shoulders and hair. She had minimal shelter.

  “Darling,” he said urgently as he dropped to his knees in front of the sobbing woman, “are ye hurt?”

  She did not seem to know that he was in front of her as she held the tartan tightly around her while her sobs racked her body.

  He could not stay coldhearted at the sounds of her crying. His normally stern, military countenance faltered, and then his face softened. It broke him to pieces inside listening to her. He did not think, just reached for her and pulled her into his arms. She did not struggle as he had expected when he put his arms around her but collapsed against him as her sobs continued to shake her body.

  Lawrence wrapped his arms tightly around her when she jumped at the next boom of thunder, followed by the earsplitting crack of lightning. She tucked herself further into his arms and continued to cry.

  “Dinnae be afraid, Darling,” he said as he leaned his head on top of hers, shielding her further from the driving rain.

  “El no viene!”

  “What did ye say, Darling?”

  “He is not coming,” she sobbed loudly.

  “I know ye are frightened, but ye arnae alone. I am here. I came, Darling!”

  He heard her sobbing increase. “No. I am not frightened. It is mi padre!” she said pitifully as she cried. She looked up at him. “He is not coming, is he?” Her voice sounded husky, rough with her tears.

  Lawrence swallowed and looked down at her. The rain ran off his face onto hers as she stared up at him tearfully.

  “I dinnae ken, Darling…” he offered softly as his eyes raked her face. He ran one of his large hands over her cheeks, pushing her wet hair away from her beautiful eyes.

  “I know. I know that he is not coming. I made it up.”

  “Why did ye make it up?”

  “He never loved me, MacLeod. Never. I made that up. I never even knew my father. He was always gone, and if he came, it was brief because he said he was very busy with his merchant ships. I wanted him to love me; I pretended he did for so long, I almost believed it. But I know he would never come sailing to find me. He would never trouble himself with rescuing me. I am only an unwanted daughter, a mere girl. Just a female of no worth, not deserving of love. It is the wolf’s troth.”

  Lawrence grimaced and began to rock her slowly. “I am sae sorry, Darling.”

  She pulled away from his chest after a few long moments as her sobs quieted.

  “I realized something.”

  “Tell me.”

  “You said the gold was already on the ship when you stole it out of the harbor,” she said as she stared at him, blinking rapidly against another onslaught of heavy rain.

  “Aye, it was.” He waited to see if she had come to the logical conclusion about her father.

  “He is a pirate too, is he not?” she finally asked in a mournful whisper.

  Lawrence swallowed past the tight lump in his throat. He nodded. “Aye. Your father is a pirate, Darling.”

  “Dios mios,” she said with utter sadness and gravity. Her teeth began to chatter, and she clutched her tartan as she sank back against his chest.

  He wrapped her tightly in his tartan and then put the second tartan around them both.

  “He will come after his ship, and his gold,” she said quietly. “And that will be bad, muy peligrosa—very dangerous—for you and your people.”

  She began to sob again.

  “Darling!” he said loudly over the rain. “Darling, stop this!” He pulled her face up, holding it in his large hands as he ran his fingers over her cheeks, wiping the rain away as she stared up at him with tears flooding her eyes.

  “He will come! He has to!” she said as she cried. “Do you not understand? Mi madre, at least for her and the gold and his ship. He will come for revenge! He will come, will he not? You know he will, you must know this! I am just a girl, worth nothing! But he does care about the gold and the ship! I am not important to him, not at all! I am just a girl. I will send him away! I will tell him there is nothing left on the ship, that it is all at the bottom of the sea! I will not let him hurt any of you!”

  “Stop!” he said as thunder boomed and lightning lit the sky again. He was stunned at what she was saying. She is taking it upon herself to protect me and my crew! He shook her shoulders lightly and then grabbed her face in his hands again as the rain came harder. “Ye cannae stand between him and his desire for revenge. Ye cannae sacrifice yerself!” He ran one of his hands tenderly over her cheek, and then her hair as he looked at her. He was breathing hard, as if he had run across the oceans, not sailed them. He felt his chest expand as if his heart was bursting within his body, sending fissures of heat all throughout his limbs. “Darling girl,” he said low, from somewhere deep within his soul. “Ye are important.” His voice was a mellifluous deep rolling burr as he looked down into her face. Her eyes tore at his heart, spoke to him, pulled at him.

  He slammed his mouth down on hers and claimed her lips for his own. She whimpered and leaned into him, opening her lips and copying his every move with desperate sounds of joy. He took her lips and gave her pleasure and received pleasure in return as she eagerly gave back to him every kiss he took. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, begging for entrance, and she eagerly complied. Instantly, she gasped at the velvety roughness as well as the heat of his tongue as it rubbed against hers.

  She was every bit the passionate lioness Lawrence knew her to be. Courageous, curious, eager, brave, and kind.

  The rain drizzled down on them, mixing with the feel of the warmth from their heated skin with the cold wetness of the rain. Lawrence pulled back slightly and looked at her, watching with heated eyes as the rain glistened on her beautiful lips. He lightly, gently, licked the drops off them.

  Darling’s breath trembled out of her as she leaned forward.

  “More, please,” she managed to murmur huskily.

  Then he was kissing her again, hungrily, in a kiss so deep, so slow and hot and intimate that Darling felt like she was swirling through the rain in a dizzying miasma of pleasure. Every sound he made, every low growl from deep in his chest, every rumble that vibrated with the pleasure of her mouth on his, she felt. His taste was the headiest of wines she had ever experienced, and his masculine smell was driving her mad with the need for more.

  Lawrence dragged his mouth away from hers, pulling back, silently struggling for breath as his blood pounded through his body, demanding he claim this woman for his own. He stared down at her in amazement.

  Darling looked up at him with sparkling eyes. Her lashes glistened with diamond-like raindrops. “You kissed me, MacLeod,” she said as she shyly tucked her head into his shoulder. “Me, a worthless Castilian girl who is the daughter of a pirate. Why?”

  He nudged her chin back up and stared at her for a long moment. “I dinnae ken,” he murmured as his eyes roved hungrily over each remarkable feature of her face.

  She smiled tenderly at him. “Perhaps because I saved you from drowning,” she said with a mischievous smile. And then she sobered. “I swear I will save you, all of you, from my father. I will send him away, in any way that I must. It is the wolf’s troth,” she said in a determined voice.

  He wanted to tell her the truth—that he was an admiral for the crown of Scotland, destined to take down any pirate ship that threatened the king’s ships. That he wanted her father to come, for he had been ordered in particular to kill the pirate DeLeon. Her father.

  But as he stared into her deep, dark eyes, he found he could not tell her. He could not inflict more hurt on this young, stubborn, passionate woman who had shown only kindness and hope to himself and his crew.

  No, he could not tell her the truth, not after that k
iss. That kiss was different than any he had had before. But then he thought to himself, When have I ever kissed any of the women I bedded? For they were only that. A quick way to release his needs and nothing more. Not this one. Not this lioness. Not this darling girl.

  “MacLeod—” she started to say something more, but he stopped her with a single, tender kiss.

  “Nay,” he whispered against her mouth. “Say my name,” he murmured as he rubbed his lips back and forth across hers. “Say it…”

  “Lawrence,” she whispered as her eyes clung to his.

  He shook his head as he looked down into her eyes. He lightly kissed the raindrops from her lashes, then looked at her again. “Nay,” he whispered. “’Tis Law; say it.” He kissed her tenderly again. “I want tae hear it on yer lips.”

  “Law.” She tested his name on her tongue and watched a small smile bloom on his face as the rain fell on the two of them.

  “Darling,” he uttered hoarsely as his eyes roved over every line of her face. His hand followed, soothing the rain away from her silky skin. He touched her mouth with his finger, gently tracing the lines of her lips, fascinated with their softness.

  Her lips tilted up in a small smile as she reached up to his face with one of her hands and tenderly wiped the rain from his eyes and then swept back the hair that was dripping onto his face. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck. She tugged his head down closer to hers, seeking his lips again.

  Both of their mouths were wet with rain, but the heated softness of their lips against one another heightened and ignited the intensity of the kiss. They gasped as one at the coming together again, even after so brief a pause. Neither could get enough.

  The rain had other ideas and came down harder, in driving sheets as the wind picked up, and the two were forced to separate.

  Lawrence smiled grimly down at her. “I am bringing ye back to the cave,” he said firmly as the rain came harder.

 

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