The Jezebel

by Saskia Walker

  “I ask you only in theory, but I need to know.”

  The man gave a wry smile and shook his head. “If it happens and I am needed, I will step in, but I’ll tell you this. Dealing with a woman on land is a hard enough task without taking on one such as her!”

  Roderick laughed. “I am not certain of my plans, but it sets my mind at rest that you will take my place should it be necessary.”

  He grasped Brady’s shoulder, nodded, and they went about their duties. Planting the thought in the sailor’s mind proved to be a useful distraction, but Roderick had done so because he found himself eager to escort Maisie onward to her kin, if she would accept his protection awhile longer. It did the trick, however, giving Brady something else to ponder on, aside from the powerful witch they carried aboard ship. He spent less time keeping track of her whereabouts and more standing at the helm, taking stock, as if preparing himself for what might be. It suited Roderick well.

  Meanwhile, he kept the ship within sight of land as much as possible, for he knew it was important to Maisie, who spent hours at the railing, staring at her homeland. Roderick saw that as the reunion with her family approached, she grew more deeply thoughtful. It was a big moment in her life, and he was glad he could help her with it.

  He did not quiz her about the man who had taken him on in Dundee, the man she called her guardian. What had been said in that room revealed enough for him to take action, and to know there was just cause. Maisie would tell him more when she was ready. Roderick also had enough sense to know that she had to mourn that person, even though he was a rum lot, an unscrupulous man who’d meant only to use her. She had not offered that man her virginity, and that was good enough for Roderick, for now.

  At night, when he held her in his arms, she clung to him and claimed him, requesting his lovemaking in a much more forthright manner than she had before. As if liberated by all that had passed in between, her mood was wild.

  It was as if they were stars aligned. Even when the seas grew restless. Every toss and roll of the ship only brought them closer together, every move either of them made in tune with the other. It seemed as if there was a link between them and the restless skies above. It was her, he knew it was. She was like a channel through which he communicated with the wild oceans he had tried for all these years to master. But now it was her he wanted to master.

  Her power, her witchcraft, was manifest at these times. She glowed, her eyes alight with passion, her body moving against his as if she were a wild creature and knew no rules about decorum and restraint. Roderick reveled in that, proud of her lusty ways. They were driven, fueled by their deep passion for one another.

  Neither of them, it seemed, could get enough. Roderick stayed hard after she found her release, and she rolled him over and rode him, their naked bodies misted with sweat as they shared every morsel of pleasure. How radiant she was, how confident in this, the thing she’d known least of when they met. It made him proud to see her so liberated.

  He sat up and stroked her breasts, sliding his hands over the hot, damp skin beneath the pale globes, while she rocked back and forth on his length.

  The rhythmic clutch of her body on his cock was almost too much for him. “Maisie?”

  She nodded. “It’s like nothing else I’ve ever felt. This makes me burn with passion.”

  Her gaze locked with his and her hands twined around his neck as she squeezed his erection, drawing him off again. He sank his head into her neck, his arms enclosing her, locking them together while they both spilled anew.

  When they finally rested, she lifted up on her elbow to look at him. “I did not care for Cyrus, not the way you might think.”

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “But you wanted to know, and I find that I want to explain myself.”

  “Now that you don’t have to?”

  She laughed softly. “Yes. I only kept things from you to protect you, not that I did a very good job of it.”

  “I see that now.”

  “When my mother was put to death, Cyrus and his wife came and took me away to a better life. His wife wanted a child, and he said he did, too. But Cyrus wanted more than that—a young witch he could train and control. I didn’t learn this until very recently, however. To me he was a teacher, someone who protected me and my craft.”

  “You were with them for a long time?”

  “Ten years or thereabouts. I was a child when they came to Scotland looking for an orphan.”

  “You trusted them at first?”

  “Not at first. I was in a terrible state, but Mama Beth was so kind, and Cyrus taught me to appreciate my secret nature. Then things changed and I discovered that he had only kept me in order to become my suitor, my owner.”

  “What of his wife?”

  Maisie rested her head on his shoulder. Roderick felt he knew the answer even before she said it, because he felt damp tears on his skin.

  “She died at his hand, because he wanted me in her place.”

  Wrapping Maisie closer, Roderick stroked her hair, running his fingers through it before cupping the back of her head as he kissed her. That, he saw, was an immense burden to her, and understandably so.

  “What of your childhood?” she said later. “You haven’t said much about the time before you were at sea.”

  “That’s because there’s not much to tell. I was born in Dundee, an only child. We had very little. My father hunted for rabbits in the hills and sold them at market. I used to play down by the harbor and watch the ships come and go. The sea life called to me.”

  “Your parents?”

  “Long gone. The men of the Libertas are the only family I know.”

  “And me. You have me now.”

  Do I? Roderick didn’t know how to respond to that, so he rocked her gently in his arms, holding her close to him until she eventually dozed, and for a long time after.

  * * *

  On the second day of their voyage north from the Tay estuary, Roderick returned to his quarters to check on her. It seemed he could not go long without seeing her. The threat of imminent separation, no doubt. The very thought of it made him feel thwarted, useless and frustrated. In his heart, a battle was being fought. Love for a woman was forcing him onto a different path. Would she accept him at her side?

  When he entered the cabin, she scarcely noticed, for she was poring over the letter from Gregor, reading it once again. She had already read it many times and marveled on it.

  “You could recite the words without the page,” Roderick said, to announce his presence more than anything.

  She lifted her head and looked his way. The frown she’d worn disappeared, and her eyes lit at the sight of him.

  That tugged at his heartstrings. How could he bear to be parted from this woman? It was the biggest dilemma of his life. If all he could do was see her safely to her kin and continue on with his responsibilities, then so be it. That steadfast reasoning only made him grumpier. Quickly, he crossed to her side.

  “It is why I felt a connection here, because he’d been here before me, before he’d met my twin. It was so vague, but it was there nonetheless.” She glanced at the page again and then around the quarters. “I feel it much more clearly now.”

  “You will always be a mystery to me, Maisie from Scotland, but I no longer question your ways.”

  His comment softened her expression and she looked at him with great fondness. “If it were not for you I might never have discovered where my sister was. I am forever grateful to you.”

  Roderick did not want her gratitude, he wanted her. Plain and simple, he felt unaccountably possessive, as if he had a right to own this woman, a woman who clearly could not be owned by anyone. “No, you would have found her, no matter what. I have merely hastened your path in the right direction.”

  She looked into his eyes, as if searching his soul, and it troubled Roderick so much that he turned away and went to his maps. The one currently laid out depicted in some detail the treacherou
s craggy coastline and coastal waters along the coast beyond Wick. Several of the older crewmen knew this coastline well, however, and they sailed safely.

  A moment later she joined him, standing close to his side and wrapping her arm around his waist as they looked down at the map. “It would have taken me weeks to travel across the land. I have vague memories of our terrible journey south. You have done me a great service. I will never forget your kindness.”

  It was not kindness. He was driven by the thought that he would never see her again once he put her feet on dry land. Roderick had already had a taste of losing her and he didn’t like it.

  She had folded up Gregor’s letter and set it on the table. “I have to keep reading it, to be sure.”

  “What is it you need to be sure of?” he asked tentatively. His curiosity was always rife, but he wanted her to open herself to him naturally, as she had started to do.

  “All these years, I didn’t even know whether my brother and sister were alive. Sometimes I would sense her, but I wasn’t sure if it was just wishes and dreams, you know?” She gave him a sidelong glance and a half smile.

  Roderick nodded. He did know. It was the way he felt about Maisie. It was as if they, too, were united, even when they were apart. But they had not spoken of it, and with so much at stake and their lives so different, he did not dare to broach the subject unless she did.

  “Now I know she is alive, and she is safe with your friend Gregor as her protector.”

  “Gregor is a fiercely loyal man, especially when it comes to family. He left Fife for the sea because a great tragedy befell his family.”

  “He and Jessie have much in common, if that is the case.” Maisie shook her head. “The letter mentions kin, but it doesn’t mention Lennox. I wonder about him.” She turned the letter over and looked at it, although her thoughts seemed far away.

  “Perhaps your brother will be there, waiting for you?”

  “It is possible. He was always chastising our mother for taking us to the Lowlands. He was not as adaptable as Jessie and I. But he was a hotheaded lad, and of the three of us he was the angriest. That has always worried me.”

  “Many a youth mired in anger grows into a man with purpose.” Roderick was thinking of Gregor, whose soul had been in a dark place as a young man when they first met. Now, after doing what he had to do to put the past to rest, it appeared he was happily ensconced with a woman and planning to put down roots and build a croft of his own.

  “I hope you’re right. I hope that I will find them both there and that they haven’t suffered much in the intervening years.” She lowered her head and stared down at the letter.

  Roderick could not bear to see her look fretful. The lingering questions about her brother and what had happened to them in the intervening years hampered her still.

  “We will have you there well before your sister’s handfasting.”

  He gave a wry smile, for it still surprised him to think of Gregor Ramsay putting down roots upon the land. If Gregor had, could he do it, too? He looked at Maisie. She would never be tied to a man such as him, not the way he wished. “Unfortunately, my maps do not give me much of an idea how far it is to your village from the coast. Fingal, yes?”

  She nodded. “My mother used to say that you could smell the sea in the air, but only when the wind came in the right direction and you were perched on the highest crag. Some of the men went to the coast every once in a while to bring back fresh herring, so it cannot be too far.”

  “Some of the older men on the ship hail from the Highlands. Clyde will know how far it is, I warrant.”

  Later, when Roderick called on Clyde, he joined them to study the map. The mood became more wistful still. Roderick had thought calling the old man in on the matter would lighten the moment, but it didn’t. Somehow it made it even more weighty and tense.

  Clyde stared down at the map, nodding to himself. “I recall the name Fingal, and I think you could be there inside two days. You will need to purchase supplies, but my guess is inside a week.”

  Roderick frowned. Which was it? Two days or a week? “How long is it since you left?”

  “How in God’s name would I know?” Clyde said with a wry chuckle. “I cannot count, I do not know my age, and I am not sure when I left.”

  “Fair point.” Roderick smiled at Maisie.

  She returned the smile as she studied Clyde. “Why did you leave the Highlands?”

  “For work, to find my fortune. Eight bairns my mother had, and I was the last.”

  “A good enough reason,” she replied. “But why have you never gone back?”

  Clyde still stared down at the map. “Fear.”

  Roderick was surprised.

  “Fear of what?” Maisie asked.

  “It not being how I remembered it. Sometimes the memory is better.” He looked at her then. “You’re braver than I, for you are making a return. Tell me, why is it that you left the Highlands?”

  “Our father left us, and our mother followed him. Searching for him was a journey that broke us apart and broke our hearts.”

  Roderick listened to her tale of sadness and grief. He knew what her mother’s quest had brought about, and he understood the sorrow he often saw in Maisie’s eyes.

  “I think our father turned his back on his clan and the magical ones, because he couldn’t live with our mother’s strange ways.” She knotted her fingers together and glanced at them both quickly. “And who could blame him?”

  That was a leading question. Roderick didn’t want to say the wrong thing, so he said nothing. Neither did Clyde.

  “He headed south to find his fortune. The last word he sent was that he was taking to the sea,” she added. “Much like you, seeking a better life and a good wage.”

  Clyde lifted his head. “What was his name? I knew a man from Fingal once, a long while back.”

  “Roy, his name was Roy.”

  Clyde stayed for a silent moment, thoughtful, as he considered his reply. “Aye, I knew a man called Roy from Fingal, and now that I think on what you’ve said, I believe it was him, your father.”

  “You knew him?” Maisie’s eyes lit with curiosity.

  “I’m afraid that your father did not find his fortune at sea, for the sea took him. Perhaps within a year or two he was swept overboard in a heavy storm. I’m sorry to tell you this.”

  Maisie stared at him with a troubled expression, then shook her head. “I’m glad you told me, for you have solved a question that for many years haunted those of us he left behind.”

  Clyde nodded. “It is better to know the truth than to wonder endlessly.”

  “Thank you. I’m so glad you knew of him and remembered what had happened.” She turned away and went to sit on the edge of the bed.

  Clyde looked at Roderick for guidance.

  Roderick nodded at him and the old man left. Roderick joined her sitting on the edge of the bed, took her in his arms and held her.

  She wept silently, and clung to him with her forehead pressed against his neck. It only made Roderick ache to know who would hold her this way when she was troubled and he was not there. Then she chuckled.

  Looking at her in surprise, he saw that her cheeks and lashes were damp with tears, but she was smiling. “It is for my mother I cried. I remember him, and for all those years we wanted to know what became of him, because we still loved him even though he left us. Yet now it is my mother I feel sorry for, thinking he was having a wild old time at sea. Perhaps it was better that way.”

  Maisie lifted her head and laughed, and Roderick smiled, too. He didn’t quite understand the sentiments, but he was relieved that the burdens seem to have been lifted.

  “You have helped me solve many riddles that have plagued my life, Roderick Cameron.” Her eyes twinkled and she wiped away the tears that clung to her lashes.

  He wanted to do more than help her solve riddles. “I will go with you. I’ll take you to Fingal.”

  Maisie stared at him. “But your
ship, your men?”

  “Brady is capable enough. He can take charge while I am gone.”

  She wrapped her hand around Roderick’s much larger, callused one. He stared down at it, noticing how different they were. She was a lady, and a witch, a woman he did not fully understand. He was a simple seafaring man with callused hands and rough ways.

  “I treasure every moment we have together, but you must not feel obliged to care for me.”

  “I don’t feel obliged. I want to escort you safely until you are with your people again. I promised I would take you to your destination.”

  “And I said my destination was Dundee, not Fingal.”

  “I stand by my word. I said I’d see you safely. I cannot let you travel alone, not now, not since we have grown close.”

  She smiled, but a different emotion shone in her eyes.

  It made him want to hold her in his arms for a long time, too long, too tightly. So he shrugged. “Besides, I must speak with Gregor,” he said, latching onto that fact. “It is not fair for him to be off marrying a woman without at least one of us there to witness it.”

  It was a good enough excuse, Roderick assured himself.

  Then he looked at her again, and wondered why he needed an excuse to stay by her side.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The ship dropped anchor in the bay of Kinlochbervie, the most northerly point on the west coast of Scotland that was accessible by sea, having a sandy beach to row a small boat upon. The coastline all around had been rugged and rocky, and their landing place looked like a haven to Maisie.

  She stared at the small cluster of cottages, and beyond, at the land that rose up in front of them, majestic and breathtaking. Home. The Highlands. She felt the immensity of the moment unfurling inside her. It left her tremulous with excitement and anticipation, and yet nervous, too. It helped that Roderick was at her side.

  Clyde volunteered to row them ashore, and when Roderick climbed out of the boat into the shallow waters, he asked him if he’d like to accompany them and set foot on his homeland. The old man shook his head, adamant that it would be unwise at this point in his life to take such a risk.