“Ack! Damn ye,” Valan cursed in a laugh, hopping on one foot over to a tree.
Graeme smiled at him. “Watch yer toe. Ye’re getting pigeon-footed.”
Valan huffed angrily and nodded, nursing his foot before walking back onto the field. “I ken and ye’re right. I’m working on it.”
Elspeth exhaled a quiet laugh and glanced back to Bess in the kitchen. “What does he mean about his toe?”
“Graeme’s been teaching that poor lad to fence fer about a year. He keeps telling him to watch his feet, but Valan forgets sometimes. His foot should be in the same direction as his arm, rather than turned in the way it has been.”
“Do ye get to watch them often?”
“Every week.”
“Then ye must understand this a great deal better than I.”
Bess chuckled. “My Jamie was a great swordsman, too. I’ve been watching men fence in the field behind the tavern fer as long as I can remember.”
Elspeth nodded thoughtfully and returned her attention to the field. Graeme and Valan were sparring again, back and forth over the grassy terrain. Elspeth couldn’t help but notice the grace in which Graeme moved, it reminded her of a deadly dance. So enraptured was she with watching them, that Elspeth forgot all about the time. It came as a great surprise to her when they eventually came to a halt, catching their breath from the back-and-forth exchange.
The most impressive thing Elspeth considered was how Graeme interacted with his pupil. He was a great teacher, but it took a lot of patience to do what he was doing—and to repeat the same technique over again until Valan had finally mastered it. When they were finished, the men walked over to a table on the grass outside and helped themselves to a drink. Graeme and Valan each removed their leather gloves now that their hands did not need protection and set them on the table.
Valan nodded to her politely when he saw her standing in the doorway and said, “Good morrow, Elspeth.”
She grinned. “Good morrow, Valan. I trust yer foot is nae in pain?”
He laughed, saying, “Aye, it should be fine. I appreciate yer concern, but if ye’ll excuse me I must be going.”
“Until next week,” Graeme acknowledged.
“Aye, until next week. Thank ye kindly.”
Graeme watched him leave and then turned to Elspeth with a curious expression.
“Ye’re good at that,” she told him. “Did yer uncle teach ye?”
Graeme chuckled, pouring himself a cup of water from the basin and said, “Aye. Why do ye ask?”
“Because, I would like to ken more about ye. I’ve only been here a week, and already I have a thousand questions.”
Graeme finished his drink and set it back down on the table. “Ye and I have led remarkably different lives, Elspeth. Earlier, ye told me there was nae need fer violence where ye came from, but this is the only kind of life I’ve ever kent. My parents died when I was young, they were killed in one of the uprisings on the mainland. After they died I was raised by my Uncle Jamie, I believe I mentioned that before. He taught me everything I ken.”
Elspeth smiled. “It sounds like ye loved him very much.”
“I did, and I do,” he agreed in a tone of reverence. “Bess was his lady love fer many years. She was the only lass he ever cared fer, but the laird refused to let them marry. She and I both lost him when he died.” A wistful expression crossed his face and he glanced up toward the sky. “He was a good man.”
“I would have liked to meet him. Why would the laird have refused the marriage though? It seems like a noble request, so I cannae imagine why he’d deny them.”
Graeme nodded in acknowledgment. “I agree. It was before I came to live with them, so I wasn’t there fer all the details. From what I understand though, Laird Thomas did nae approve of Bess. He thought that as a captain of one of his ships, Jamie could do better than a bar-wench.”
Her eyes widened. “Honestly?”
“That’s what I was told. It was quite a scandal at the time. Jamie was furious, of course, and his relationship with the laird was never the same. Even though they weren’t allowed to marry, Bess and Jamie remained together until he died.”
Elspeth listened to him in fascination, completely enraptured with the tragic love story.
Graeme stared at her for a moment and the sky grew dark overhead. He gazed up at it with a frown. “We should probably get inside. It looks like the storm is about to hit.”
Elspeth shivered at the thought of a storm on such a tiny island, but she nodded and stepped aside to let him pass. Before she shut the door, Elspeth glanced up at the angry gray clouds.
Graeme was right, the storm was finally here.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When the storm finally hit, all the men in the village made their way to Bess’ tavern. Outside, it rained harder than the islands had seen in weeks and the wooden floor was slick with mud being tracked in from outside. Bess hired a musician to play for them in the corner and the entire dining area was filled with talk and laughter. Delicious smells of spiced meat and honey cakes wafted from the kitchen, making Graeme’s mouth water at the thought of biting into one of Bess’ homemade pies.
He sat down in his regular seat by the kitchen and watched the men enjoy themselves while they indulged in a jug of ale. A few minutes later, Elspeth came walking down the stairs and gazed around expectantly.
She wore a faded-blue dress with her hair hanging loose in gentle waves. Graeme thought she looked positively lovely, especially now they were both well rested. When her eyes fell on him at last, she smiled, and Graeme raised his tankard to her in welcome. She blushed and discretely made her way over to the kitchen.
When his tankard was empty, Graeme headed off toward the bar and caught sight of Duncan sitting in one of the chairs, smoking a pipe. The rim of Duncan’s hat hung low across his eyes casting a shadow on his face, but Graeme would recognize his late uncle’s quartermaster anywhere. It had been months since he and that odious man crossed paths, yet here he sat in Bess’ tavern as if nothing had even happened.
The sight of his old nemesis making himself comfortable in Graeme’s home made his blood boil. “What are ye doing here?”
Duncan blew out of puff of smoke and smiled, raising his gaze to see him. There was the hint of a beard going along his chin with salt and pepper coloring, though his hair was black as midnight. He had the same tan, sun-worn skin as the other sailors, but Duncan’s clothes were rank with ale after years of letting himself fall apart. He was nothing like the man Graeme used to sail with, all vision of his former self was gone. “Well, good evening to ye, too, Graeme. I trust ye’re having a pleasant one?”
His voice was deep and raspy from years of smoking on his pipe and thick with condescension. If anything, that was the one thing about him that would never change.
“I asked ye a question,” Graeme demanded.
Duncan took another drag from his pipe. “I came to get a tankard of ale and a bite to eat—Bess’ cooking is the best on the island. Am I nae longer welcome in this establishment?”
Graeme gritted his teeth, knowing in most circumstances if he turned away a paying customer Bess would chew his ear off—Duncan was another matter. She hated him almost as much as Graeme did, but it wasn’t worth getting into a brawl over. Rather than get into a fight, Graeme told him, “Ye’ve nae been welcome fer quite some time. Ye’ve got some bloody cheek coming up here anyway after what happened last time.”
Duncan frowned. “Ye stole my ship.”
“I dinnae steal yer ship,” he spat back. “The laird chose me as the captain.”
“I was Jamie’s quartermaster! I was next in line. That position should have gone to me.”
Graeme took a step toward him threateningly and bared his teeth. “Perhaps it would have if ye hadn’t turned into a sniveling, pathetic drunk. Yer reckless behavior is what got Jamie killed in the first place. I suggest ye leave.”
Elspeth’s laughter cut through the conversation like the
sound of a tinkling bell. Graeme’s eyes flickered to where she was seated at the bar and Duncan followed his gaze to see her. When Graeme realized his mistake, he turned away from her and pretended like nothing happened.
Maybe Duncan wouldn’t recognize Graeme’s reaction. Maybe he’d think she was just another pretty face…
“Is she one of yers?”
Graeme sneered at him. He knew what Duncan wanted to know is whether they were romantically involved.
“Nae.”
“Oh, that’s a disappointment. Word in the village is ye found yerself a wench and have been keeping her here.”
“Is that what this is about? Ye came all the way down here based on nothing but a piece of gossip?”
“I heard she was quite attractive,” Duncan commented. “Perhaps I’ll take up with her myself since she has nae been claimed. It’s been a long time since I’ve wet my cock in as lass as pretty as her.”
“I highly doubt she’d be interested,” Graeme responded with a roll of his eyes. “Leave her alone, Duncan. Ye poison everything ye come in contact with, and I will nae see ye doing it to her.”
Duncan cast his gaze toward Elspeth once again. “They said she’s a healer, is that true?”
“Duncan…”
“Now why would ye be hiding the pretty blonde healer from me? I cannae imagine why that would catch my interest.”
Graeme’s eyes narrowed as he watched Duncan carefully, who was keeping his gaze locked on Elspeth, who was completely oblivious to their entire conversation.
“It’s funny,” Duncan mused. “In a way, she does look a bit like Morag. She has similar coloring on her face and eyes…”
Graeme’s anger finally snapped, and he grabbed Duncan by the collar and lifted him from the seat. “Listen to me, ye piece of filth. Morag died six years ago, we all loved her and mourned her loss as ye did. Ye’ve had plenty of time to move on since the loss of her and yer son. Nothing good will come of this fruitless pursuit. Ye will leave the lass alone, or so help me I’ll rip yer throat out. Do ye understand?”
Duncan held up his hands in mock surrender and laughed. “Of course, I was only kidding. What would I want with a skinny lass like her anyway?”
Graeme huffed and spun around, marching over to the booth where Elspeth sat. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, “The evening’s over. Ye need to get out of here now.”
Elspeth balked. “What? Nae, I was starting to have fun.”
He turned back toward the booths and scowled, seeing Duncan laugh in the darkened corner. Graeme closed his eyes and sighed, bracing his hand against the counter as the other gripped her wrist. Bess cast him a meaningful glance and nodded her approval. With his aunt’s permission Graeme tightened his grip around Elspeth’s arm and said, “I’m sorry about this.”
Elspeth’s eyes widened when she realized what was about to happen. In one fluid movement, Graeme put his arms around her waist and lifted her clear out of the seat and laid her across his shoulders.
“Ahh! What are ye doing? Put me down,” she cried.
The people watching laughed and cheered him on when Graeme carried her to the stairwell. “Ye show her lad!”
He flinched when Elspeth struck him on the back, kicking and screaming the whole way up the stairs.
Damn him, Graeme thought miserably. Damn Bess fer being right. Duncan will never cease to be a thorn in my side.
CHAPTER TWELVE
As Graeme ascended the narrow stairwell Elspeth continued to resist, making quite a scene of her displeasure. She cried out again and again while beating against his back with her tiny fists. Graeme knew there was no simple way to explain the danger of Duncan’s interest in her, but he still felt the need to protect her all the same.
“Let me down!”
He opened the door to her room and set her on the floor while Elspeth punched him repeatedly in the chest.
“What is wrong with ye?” she cried, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. “I cannae have a moment’s peace without ye disturbing me. What have I done to deserve this?”
Graeme hung his head and sighed. “I’m sorry, Elspeth. It has nothing to do with ye, but I cannae allow ye to be downstairs this eve.”
“Why?”
“Because there are dangerous men in Castlebay, ones that might even wish to do ye harm. It’s complicated, but one of them just walked inside and I had to get ye away from him.”
Elspeth panted through her frustration and said, “Then why dinnae ye make him leave instead of me?”
“It’s nae that simple,” Graeme explained. “If I turn away Duncan, he’ll retaliate in the only way he kens how—violence. There’s more going on in this wee village than ye realize.”
“That dinnae give ye permission to treat me like an animal.”
“Ye’re right, and I apologize. I was a brute downstairs. If ye only understood, Duncan drives me crazy—”
“Duncan?” she interrupted. “I have never heard that name before. Who is that?”
Graeme closed the door behind himself and said, “A rutting fool is what he is. He’s also dangerous and crazed, especially when he’s been drinking. I meant what I said about the Barra being a dangerous place fer those who dinnae understand the way it’s governed. Men think they can get away with things they wouldn’t otherwise dare. He came here tonight with the sole purpose of discovering ye.”
“Why would he do that?”
Graeme walked around to have a seat at the window table. “Because it’s a small community and word travels fast on the island. By now, everyone is aware of ye staying at Bess’ tavern. That alone would have been cause fer some gossip, but Duncan has a special interest where I’m concerned, and he wanted to see ye fer himself.”
“That dinnae make any sense.”
“It does if he thinks I have feelings fer ye,” Graeme explained. “He and I had a falling out many years ago and he’ll do anything he can to ruin whatever happiness I find. The minute he caught wind of yer arrival he must have started planning, I just dinnae ken what yet.”
“If ye expect me to stay up here all night then I deserve more of an explanation,” Elspeth demanded. “Why does he hate ye so much?”
There was a pause before Graeme answered her. “I’ve told ye about my Uncle Jamie, the man who raised me with Bess at his side. Well, Duncan was his quartermaster. He sailed with us fer a long time, and fer a long time we were friends, but everything changed after Duncan’s wife died. We tried to be there fer him, but he only sank deeper into a depression and continued losing himself into the drink.”
Elspeth winced. “That sounds familiar.”
“Aye. He hates me because he thinks I’m responsible fer Morag’s death. I was the one Morag was treating when she got sick.”
Her brow furrowed for a moment and then a look of understanding swept across Elspeth face. “Oh…that Morag. She was the village healer who died from the sickness years ago. Ye told me about her before. The man downstairs was her husband?”
Graeme nodded. “Several months after her death, Jamie tried to break up a fight between us. That was the last thing he ever did. Duncan and I have hated each other ever since.”
Elspeth considered him thoughtfully and said, “Very well, I accept yer explanation. However, that still does nae explain why he’d think ye have feelings fer me in the first place.”
He smiled thinly, unable to meet her gaze when he responded, “Because he’s grasping, willing to believe anything if it serves him. And…because, in truth, I am rather fond of ye. I ken it dinnae make sense, but I would appreciate it greatly if ye’d be willing to lay low just until he leaves. I dinnae want to see ye getting hurt because of our childish feud.”
The ghost of a smile began to form around her lips when there was a knock at the door. Graeme went to answer it and found Bess waiting in the hallway. “Is there trouble downstairs?” he asked.
“Nae, I brought yer lass some food. I thought she might be hungry.”
He smiled at her thoughtful gesture and glanced down at the plate in her hand. “Thank ye, Bess. ‘Twas kind of ye to think of her. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”
Bess pursed her lips and frowned when she handed him the plate. “I told ye Duncan would be a problem.”
“Aye, ye did,” Graeme allowed. “We can discuss it further in the morning.”
“There’s nothing to discuss, Graeme. That man will nae rest until he’s seen blood. Ye need to get yer men together and do something about it.”
He sighed as Bess stomped away down the hall and then headed back down the stairs.
“What was that about?” Elspeth asked from her chair in the far corner of the room.
Graeme shook his head and closed the door behind him. “Nothing. Bess brought ye up some food.”
She took the plate from him and smiled before sitting down to eat. Elspeth picked away at the meat pie and vegetables on her plate, glancing out the window. “Remind me to thank her in the morning. ‘Twas very thoughtful.”
“She understood the need to get ye away from Duncan,” Graeme assured her.
Elspeth sighed. “I wish I could say the same. Go on,” she told him, while gesturing to the hall. “I’m sure ye’d prefer to be downstairs with the rest of them. I promise to stay up here like ye requested.”
The captain raised an eyebrow at her. “Are ye suggesting I’d be happy knowing that ye’re up here bored and lonely, by yerself?” Graeme shook his head. “What utter nonsense. I’ll stay here with ye, and we can keep each other company.”
“Ye dinnae have to do that…”
He blinked in surprise at the tone of her voice. Was she that frightened of him? Had he really been so cruel as to cause her such unrest?
Damn.
Slowly, he walked back toward her and sat down on the edge of the mattress. “My apologies. All I meant was that it would please me to know ye better. Is that alright with ye?”
Taken by Graeme (The Pirates of Barra: Highland Raiders Book 1) Page 8