Forty pirates marched down the road, thirsty for blood and murderous. Moving together that time of night, caused a stir within the village. It was clear that something was afoot and no one dared approach. They made their way down the road carrying every weapon they could find and people jumped out of the way to avoid being barreled over.
If he’d been paying attention, Graeme would have seen it in their faces, the look of fear, uncertainty.
While the Barra remained a land of pirates, the people understood each other and worked together for a communal purpose. There were fights and regular disagreements among them, but there was also a code in which they lived by and rarely did it ever escalate beyond petty differences. Graeme had lived in Castlebay since the age of seven and knew the people like they were family. The reverse was also true, people in the village knew Graeme—and they knew when he was dangerous. They knew when he was not in a mood to be reckoned with.
Strapped to Graeme’s hip was the Spanish rapier gifted him by the laird. It would give him advantage in a fight and was sharper than any other on the island. Spanish steel was the envy of the world; it was stronger, lighter, and superior in every way—that’s what made it so valuable.
“Where are we going?” Alistair asked him.
Graeme, without missing a beat in his pace, said, “He’ll be on Vatersay, at the old port where we used to careen.”
Valan scoffed. “Why would he be there? Nae one has been to the old port fer years. It was destroyed by a storm.”
“Because that’s where Jamie died. He’d want to end this infernal battle there.”
Alistair and Valan glanced at one another knowingly and continued toward the dock. The men sprang to action, untethering the ship and climbing on board to take to their oars. Darkness was falling across the landscape, and Alistair grabbed a torch off the end of the pier. Graeme took his place at the bow of the ship and stared off into the water. His hair was tied back with a bit of string, keeping his vision clear and unencumbered.
The boat swayed violently, and he could hear the oars slap against the waves.
Alistair’s voice bellowed across the waves. “Row!”
The men groaned from exertion as they passed Kisimul, trying to make up for lost time. Soon they had left the bay and continued to the neighboring island—Vatersay. It wouldn’t take them long to get there, but the hard part would be finding the wooden dock in the dark of night. There was a reason the MacNeils no longer used the run-down port, there was no point. Years ago, it had been an ideal location for them to expand, but a storm had ripped apart the wooden dock. There had been several attempts to rebuild, but the weather made it impossible and after exhausting their resources, it was eventually abandoned. It was in their last attempt that Jamie ended up dying on the beach. Neither Graeme or Duncan would ever forget it. In a way, that made their confrontation sadly poetic.
When his eyes caught hold of the shoreline in the distance, Graeme placed his hand on the hilt of his rapier.
Ye’ve made a terrible mistake, Duncan. Though I’m afraid ye will nae live long enough to regret it.
“What’s yer plan?” Valan inquired from his spot in the back.
“Find Elspeth and get her to safety, then kill Duncan.”
Alistair cleared his throat. “I ken ye dinnae want to think on it, but what happens if we’re too late? It’s been over an hour since she was taken, and much can happen in that time.”
Graeme clenched his fists. “If Duncan has harmed her in any way then his death will be a slow one.”
“Understood.”
Within moments, their ship approached the shore of Vatersay where the port had once been located. There were sixteen men gathered around a struggling woman, flanked on either side by two enormous men.
Graeme and his men disembarked on the rocky coast, sloshing through the murky water of the tide. The row of wooden posts remained jutting out from the water’s edge and planks scattered along the shoreline. A rumble rose inside his chest as they approached, and Graeme drew his sword. All the sailors gathered to Duncan’s side were misfits—outcasts from society. He recognized them as criminals, or men rebuked for their behaviors while at sea. It was an unfortunate alliance of foes. Unlike Graeme, they had nothing left to lose.
“Leave her be!” Graeme addressed Duncan and his men. “I’ve come to collect Elspeth.”
Duncan stepped out from his group of supporters and smiled. “That’s an awful long way fer ye to come fer a lass ye claim to nae be involved with.”
Behind Duncan, Graeme could see Elspeth being held by two enormous men. Graeme’s anger flared as he snarled at them, “Unhand her now, ye worthless pieces of trash.”
“I’m afraid I’m nae quite done with her yet,” Duncan told him. “But I want to make sure ye see it. I want to see the look on yer face when I kill her, knowing there is nothing ye can do to stop me.”
Graeme brandished his rapier and took a fighting stance, securing his footing along the rocks before responding, “Touch her and I’ll—”
“Niall,” said Duncan, cutting Graeme off, and signaled the men holding her.
The behemoth of a man with bad skin and a bulbous nose pulled out a dagger from his belt and brought it to Elspeth’s throat. The edge of his blade drew a crimson line along her neck and Graeme froze.
“One more step and I’ll have him slit her throat,” Duncan sneered. “I’m going to kill her anyway, but I want to make sure ye’ve been sufficiently beaten first.”
Graeme looked Duncan squarely in the eyes and dropped his sword. Duncan’s men snickered to one another and he smiled at them approvingly.
Graeme reached down toward his belt in a flash and pulled out the flintlock pistol. His fingers cocked back the hammer and squeezed the trigger. Time seemed to slow down as the bullet traveled across the distance and hit Niall between the eyes. The giant fell to the ground in a pool of blood. A puff of white smoke filled the air as they all stared at the giant man, lying on the earth in front of them. Duncan’s men stood there dumbfounded for a moment and Elspeth took advantage of the opportunity to wriggle free from her remaining captors.
In an impressive show of force, she elbowed one of them in the stomach and ripped herself away.
The man groaned from her assault and chaos erupted between the two groups. With Elspeth free from immediate danger, Graeme’s men sprang to action and attacked. Valan ran to her the moment she broke away and quickly rid her of her bindings before ushering her away from the looming battle. Across the battlefield, Graeme and Duncan locked eyes, each of them full of hate and vengeance. Graeme drew his sword and strode toward his enemy.
Graeme thrust his weapon to attack and Duncan met his blows with equal measure.
Duncan was a drunk, but he was also highly trained, and the most skilled opponent Graeme had ever faced. Unlike their previous encounter when Duncan was dirty and inebriated, this time he was in complete control. His footwork countered Graeme’s perfectly, almost like a dance. Every move was calculated, every turn of the heel deliberate. Duncan pushed back on the uneven terrain and Graeme had to counter him by stepping down onto the shoreline, or risk losing his footing.
In most cases, Graeme’s emotions would not have played a factor, but Duncan made the mistake of making it personal. He wasn’t fighting for himself, it was to protect the woman he loved. That meant this time there would be no forgiveness—there would be no second chances.
As the fight grew on around them, Graeme’s men managed to kill or subdue Duncan’s remaining followers. The stone was slick beneath them and he could hear the agonal cry of another man dying. Before long, it was just the two of them remaining.
Duncan roared as he came down with his blade, aiming it directly at Graeme’s throat. “Ahhh!”
Graeme jumped out of the way and turned to face him, furious.
“Ye’ve taken everything!” Duncan screamed. “I had a wife and loyal crew, ye took that away from me.”
“And ye could hav
e had it all again if ye dinnae waste yer life on bitterness and hate. It is nae my fault that Morag died!”
“How dare ye say her name!” Duncan spat at him. “I’ll kill ye, and then I’ll take yer precious surgeon with me.”
When he lunged at him again, Graeme was caught off guard and stumbled backward to remain upright. There was a gasp in the distance as Elspeth cried, “Graeme!”
Duncan sneered at Elspeth standing next to their boat as he slipped his hand into his coat. Graeme saw him move and lunged forward to attack. Duncan left himself exposed to throw a blade with a flick of his wrist. It happened so fast, Graeme almost didn’t see it—he was focused completely on his enemy.
The knife cut through the air like it was nothing and flew across the beach until it landed in its intended target. Elspeth stumbled backward when the blade imbedded in her shoulder. She stared down at it in shock. Her lips parted as if she was about to speak and Graeme watched in horror as a pool of blood formed around the wound in an ever-widening circle.
Alistair grabbed her before she could fall and lowered her gently to the ground, brushing his hand across her cheek. “Elspeth? Elspeth, stay with me!”
Her face was pale and her hands shaking as the garment of her bodice became stained with red. Elspeth’s blonde hair laid out across the stone and Graeme felt the breath being sucked out of his lungs. He faced Duncan with fire blazing in his eyes.
Graeme’s rapier had plunged into his ribcage, but the damage was already done. Duncan smiled feebly, blood spilling from his lips. With a snarl of rage, Graeme lanced him once again, relishing in Duncan’s wheezing final breaths, and threw him on the ground.
The battle was over, Duncan was dead and all the men who supported him were deposed. Yet, the victory was bittersweet because Elspeth had been caught in the middle.
She never should have been a part of this.
Graeme ran over to where Elspeth was lying on the shore and knelt beside her. “Elspeth? Elspeth, speak to me,” he demanded.
Her breathing was short and erratic, but then her eyes found him and she smiled weakly. “Graeme…”
“Elspeth, please dinnae give up on me. We’re going to take ye home.”
“I love ye…” she told him softly.
He laid his hand across her chest to stem the bleeding and called out to his men. “Someone help me get her on the ship.”
The men rushed over to him and lifted Elspeth up onto the birlinn. Her eyelids closed when they set her down and her head lolled to one side. Graeme’s chest felt tight and he shouted for the men to move. “To yer oars, men. Now!”
Valan and the rest of his crew cast off from the rocky shoreline and started back toward Castlebay. Water sloshed against the side of the boat as he knelt beside her, holding Elspeth’s hand. Her face had taken on a ghostly sheen and Graeme swallowed hard, worried that he might still lose her after all.
Dinnae die on me, Elspeth. Please, just hang on a little longer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
When Elspeth woke, everything in the room was dark and the bed felt like it was spinning. She winced from a searing pain in her shoulder as she tried to sit up and look around. Bright sunlight came pouring the window and she was propped up by feather pillows on either side. As she became aware of her surroundings, Elspeth realized her chest and left shoulder had been bandaged. There was a linen sling around her neck and Elspeth was still groggy from sleep, but she could hear voices talking in the distance.
“She’s doing fine, Graeme. Elspeth just needs time to recover. She’s been through a lot the last few days.”
“Then why hasn’t she woken up?” he insisted.
The sound of his voice made Elspeth’s heart flutter and she looked toward the door with a smile on her face. Her entire body called out to him in wanting, but he sounded faraway.
“I-I’m here…” she called out, her voice raspy from disuse.
The door to her room flew open and Graeme and Bess both rushed inside. “Oh, darlin, ye’re awake,” Bess crooned. “How do ye feel?”
She moaned, looking down at her wounded shoulder and responded, “I’ve been better.”
“I’ll go and fetch Sarah from downstairs, mayhap she can do something to help.”
Elspeth raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Sarah?”
“Aye. Who else do ye think stitched up yer knife wound?”
Graeme sat down on the bed beside her and Elspeth flinched from the slight discomfort of the mattress shifting. As she glanced down at the wrapping, Elspeth noticed the bandages over her skin were clean and pressed. “I had nae thought about it.”
“She did a splendid job, if I do say so myself. Ye had us quite worried fer a while.”
“How long was I asleep?”
Graeme swallowed hard. “Two days.”
“Aye, two days,” Bess said as she walked over to the door. “Ye stay put. I’m going to go fetch Sarah.”
As the tavern owner disappeared through the door, Graeme turned to Elspeth with sorrow written on his face. “Elspeth, I’m so sorry. Ye never should have been in danger like that because of me.”
She reached up to place her free hand against his cheek.
“When Duncan took ye I thought…I thought I would never see ye again. If we hadn’t gotten there in time…”
“Shh,” she cooed, trying to calm him. “I’m fine now.”
Graeme looked back at her with an unfathomable expression, his gray eyes searing. “Elspeth, I keep thinking back to when ye left Oban the second time and wonder if it was the correct decision. I need to ken if ye were choosing—whether it was me, or of ye were just running away from that situation.”
“Graeme—”
“I would nae fault ye that,” he insisted. “And if ye are nae wanting this fer the right reasons, I can take ye back. I will nae be selfish about our love.”
Elspeth smiled. “Graeme, I came back to Castlebay because I love ye. I would nae just run away from my problems. I want to be with ye, as long as ye would have me.”
He exhaled deeply, as if releasing tension that had been bottled in him for weeks. “I love ye back,” Graeme whispered “Ye’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever kent. The only thing I want is to spend my life with ye, I would give up anything to make that happen, but I’m still afraid that ye’ll regret it.”
Elspeth smiled as he bent down to kiss her and pressed her lips against his, saying, “I have nae regrets.”
As he kissed her on the mouth their bodies shifted, and another jolt of pain rocked through her. Elspeth pulled away from him reflexively and gasped. “Ahh!”
“Did I hurt ye?”
She shook her head. “Nae, it’s just my arm.”
Graeme brushed her hair to the side of her face and gently kissed her on the forehead. “I’m sorry, love.”
Elspeth closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh, just as a pair of footsteps came walking down the hall. She and Graeme both smiled as Bess and Sarah arrived with more linens and supplies in tow.
“Welcome back,” Sarah told her.
“Sarah, it’s so good to see ye. How is Jack?”
The elderly woman laughed. “Jack is fine, Miss Elspeth. It’s yer health that I am worried about.”
Elspeth smiled. “Thank ye fer taking such good care of me.”
Sarah walked over to the bedside. “It’s the least I could do after everything ye’ve done fer us. I’ve had a lot of practice lately while taking care of Jack.”
Elspeth winced as Sarah unwrapped the bandages and her heart swelled with the outpouring of love from kind old woman. As Sarah set the fabric aside, she examined the stitches and then sat back with a smile.
“It seems to be healing nicely. The wound was not deep, but ye did lose a substantial amount of blood. Ye’ll need to rest fer a few more days.”
Graeme stepped back and nodded. “Aye. We’ll make sure she does.”
The woman nodded and spread a dark brown plaster over the wound before cover
ing it up again. “This should help with the pain. I’ll be back to check on ye tomorrow.”
Elspeth laid back her head against the pillow and sighed. “Thank ye, Sarah.”
Without another word she left the room and disappeared down the hall. Bess sat down on the foot of the bed, saying, “I cannae tell ye how glad I am to see ye up again. Graeme is going to take care of ye while I fix some broth and bring ye something to eat, but I’ll be back soon.”
“Thank ye, Bess.”
Graeme watched her leave and then exhaled a tired sigh.
“What is it?”
He chuckled. “Nothing, it’s just given me a bit of perspective, that’s all. I never told my uncle how much he meant to me before he died. I’m sure he knew, but I never said it. I should have told him how I grateful I was to have him raise me—and how proud I was to be his nephew. He died before I understood how important that was. I dinnae think I’ll forgive myself fer that, and I won’t let it happen again.”
“What are ye saying?”
“Just that I want to do it right this time. I want ye to ken how much ye mean to me. Before ye came into my life I was adrift, I could nae imagine settling down or raising a family. But now I cannae picture my life any different. I want ye by my side, now and always.”
She smiled and took him by the hand before responding, “Well, that’s good because I have nae intent of leaving. I love ye, too.”
Graeme smiled and turned to meet her gaze, saying, “Will ye marry me?”
Elspeth gasped as she sat up too quickly and yelped in pain. “What?”
Taken by Graeme (The Pirates of Barra: Highland Raiders Book 1) Page 19