The Beauty of the Mist

by May McGoldrick

  “I object to that, aunt,” Maria said in a steady tone, unwilling to give the older woman the final word. “I might not have had the days of courting that other women have. And it is true, I have not been in the company of a great number of men. But I do know as well as you matters that pertain to the heart. And as to the ways of men, no one alive has had their life dictated more severely by the ways of men. And, Isabel, I know the difference between right and wrong.”

  Seeing her aunt ease herself further beneath the bedclothes, Maria knew that their conversation was rapidly coming to a conclusion. “Aunt Isabel, John Macpherson is not a wicked man.”

  “I never said he was,” the elder woman chirped quickly. “In fact, in my younger days, meeting someone as handsome and as gallant as he is would have been the answer to my dreams. But, as a young rebel, I never concerned myself much with consequences...or with the opinions of future subjects.”

  Maria watched as her aunt sank more deeply in the bed, the elderly woman’s eyelids once again showing the effects of the medicine.

  The young queen walked to her side and pulled the blanket up to her chin. Like so many conversations with Isabel, this one would have no resolution nor end.

  Then, suddenly, Isabel’s eyes sprang open once more. “Maria, your arrangement with the man...it is off. Understand? It is off!”

  Maria nodded heavily. “As always, you know best.”

  As he made his way toward the stern of the ship, John glanced up through the heavy fog at the ice beginning to coat the rigging. The light streaming from the lantern hanging amidships seemed to push at the cold shroud enclosing the ship, and reflected defiantly off the glistening droplets clinging to the lines above. There had been no change in the fog that surrounded them, but the temperature had been steadily dropping for hours. And that was a promising sign.

  John peered out into the mists.

  “Aye, m’lord. Adrian said you were looking for me.”

  John swung around and faced his navigator. “Aye, David. Fetch your charts and meet me in my cabin.”

  David nodded at his commander’s order. But as he turned to go, the pilot paused, a grin tugging at his lips. “It wouldn’t be that the idea of standing fast here for a week has lost its charm, m’lord? All it took was spending one dinner in the galley with the lot of them.”

  John rubbed his face with his hands and pulled his cloak around him. It was true, he had spent the past few hours in the company of the delegation in the ship’s galley. But surprisingly, the time had been passed fairly pleasantly and with no complaints. “It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Sir Thomas dropped anchor beside me and we passed the time talking of land routes and charts. It wasn’t bad at all.”

  “And what was Lady Caroline doing during all the while?” David needled.

  “Thank God, she was doing naught that I know of. She wasn’t there. Sir Thomas said something was ailing her, but I didn’t think to pursue the matter.” Not interested in this line of discussion, John turned in the direction of his cabin. “Run and fetch the charts, lad. Sir Thomas is to meet us there shortly.”

  “You are telling him our route, Sir John?” David whistled. “”Well, this is a first.”

  John faced the navigator. “David, the man has attached himself to me like a growth. If he were any closer, I’d have to wear him as a kilt.”

  “Aye, I can see you’ve a problem.” David shook his head gravely, struggling to hide his mirth. “Well, I’m glad it’s you he’s interested in and not me.”

  “Aye, I’m certain you are. It does make Mistress Janet’s time a wee bit more...free. Eh, Davy?” John looked on wryly as the young navigator shrugged his shoulders and gazed noncommittally into the mist. “The man does know quite a bit about land routes into the Netherlands, though. I thought I’d show him the maps and get his opinion, in case we need to send a man overland.”

  David started to say something, but stopped, nodding with a resigned shrug and heading off to do as he was told.

  “David,” the Highlander called after him.

  “Aye, m’lord.”

  “You don’t have to be nice to him.”

  John’s hand froze in mid air as he reached for the latch of his cabin door. His eyes narrowed at the realization that the door itself was ever so slightly ajar. Laying his hand on the hilt of the razor sharp dirk that hung from his belt, the warrior eased the door open a crack.

  The only light in the long corridor came from the flame of a solitary wick lamp, but as John peered into the cabin, he could see that someone had lit a candle. But from the angle that the small opening afforded, he could see no one inside.

  There was no way David could have gotten there before him. And Sir Thomas, John decided, would have waited outside. Other than the ship’s navigator, no one would even consider violating the sanctity of the master’s cabin. Thinking of the valuables and the chest carrying the men’s pay, John’s face darkened at the thought that one of these nobles would have the audacity to enter his chamber.

  The Highlander drew his dirk and pushed the door open further. Whoever it was, would pay.

  The shadow of the damask bed curtain hid her face, but the transparent lace-edged shift concealed nothing else. Stunned momentarily by the sight of the woman stretched enticingly upon his bed, John stood motionless on the threshold, his eyes taking in the perfection of the full, round breasts, the nipples showing darkly through the gauzy material. His gaze traveled appraisingly along the intruder’s long and shapely legs, the clinging shift doing nothing to hide the womanly charms.

  “I didn’t know if you were ever coming back,” Caroline said softly, her long, blonde hair falling forward as she leaned into the light.

  The lines of John’s face grew taut and grim at the realization of who it was that had invaded his private domain. Fighting the anger that was gathering in his chest, the Highlander suddenly saw Caroline’s face change with a start as she stared past him into the corridor. He whirled, ready to counter the blow from her husband. But the blow never came.

  Maria stood at his elbow, her eyes locked on the woman lying naked on the bed.

  Chapter 8

  Revolted by her own naiveté, she felt suddenly quite ill.

  Taking a quick step backward, Maria banged heavily into the door before turning in a wild attempt to escape from the room. Isabel had spoken the truth. He was no more than a womanizer and a cheat. And she was a fool to have defended him. A fool to have believed anything he’d told her.

  A firm hand grabbed her wrist as she crossed the threshold, and she let out a sharp cry. Twisting frantically to free herself from his grip, she saw the Highlander’s imploring face.

  “Let me go!” she cried. “Let me-”

  John Macpherson strong hands caught hold of her other hand and he held both, pulling her back against the doorjamb. He looked hard into her angry face, into eyes flashing with obvious disgust. He could feel her body trembling as she gave up trying to pull free of him. His words came out clipped and sharp. “I need your help!”

  Maria shook her head from side to side, trying again to twist her bandaged hands out of his grip. “You are hurting me. Let me go.”

  John cast a quick look down the corridor. No one was coming. Not yet. “Listen to me...”

  “I won’t!” Maria fought him with all her strength. “Go back to her. Let her help you. She is the one waiting for you.”

  He let go of her hands but grasped her by the shoulders in a viselike grip. “It is not what it seems, lass. I walked in here only a moment before you. I was caught offguard as surely as you.”

  “Save your lies for someone else.” Maria looked up into the darkening features of the Highlander, and suddenly she felt her knees go weak. His gaze flickered away, and then he focused his eyes on her mouth. Filling her lungs to scream, Maria twisted in his arms, only to find herself suddenly flattened against the doorjamb–his big hand pinning her tightly to the wood. He pushed his weight against her, and she thought
her lungs were about to explode.

  “Damn it, woman. I’m telling you the truth.” John looked into her angry, frightened green eyes, only inches away from his. “I tell you this is all her doing. She is trying to wreak havoc here. Her husband is due to meet me here any moment.”

  Maria shook her head, unable to speak. She wouldn’t believe him. He was crushing her; she had to get away. Turning her head away, she tried to close her mind to his words.

  “Come, Maria, do you think me a fool? Would I summon Sir Thomas to my cabin while...”

  From the far end of the corridor, she heard the creak of the door leading from the deck. She felt him stiffen. She heard the urgency in his words as the footsteps faltered uncertainly.

  “He is here!” he whispered, his hand lifting her chin. Her shoulder stung from the grip of his other hand, and she could feel the sea air sweep damp and cold around her feet. The tone of his voice conveyed more an appeal than a command. “Kiss me, Maria. Kiss me.”

  She tried to turn her head in the direction of footsteps, thinking to call for help. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the stocky man standing at the end of the hall, the young navigator looking over his shoulder. But as she turned, the Highlander’s mouth crushed down upon hers. Maria’s eyes widened in surprise as his lips devoured hers.

  As the commander turned her slightly, Maria could just see the frown stealing across the aging warrior’s face. Then she saw the glimmer of the dagger at the man’s belt, and her mind began to race. John’s mouth was imprisoning hers, his lips and teeth rough and insistent. But all she could think of was how Caroline’s warlike husband would react, once he found his wife naked in the cabin. In the Highlander’s cabin.

  Her hands were free. She could easily disengage her mouth and scream. If she cried out, the two men would surely come to her aid, she thought. But then what? Maria’s mind tried to make sense out of the whirlwind of activity that had suddenly engulfed her. If Sir Thomas came as far as the cabin door, he would unquestionably perceive his wife inside. And upon seeing Lady Caroline, and her disgraceful situation, wouldn’t her husband be bound by the dictates of honor to fight the Highlander? He would, she was certain, and then someone would be hurt. Perhaps even killed.

  John Macpherson was beginning to feel a bit foolish. Maria’s lips were unyielding, her body stiff as a branch, and he knew that she was not going to cooperate. Sir Thomas continued to stand at the end of the corridor; he had to be wondering whether to interrupt or go back the way he and David had come. It had not taken long to comprehend Caroline’s motives. But he didn’t know if she’d gone so far as to plan on being the cause of bloodshed. There was no movement, no sound, from inside the cabin. It was too much to assume that the lady wanted her husband dead. But that was exactly what might happen, and John quickly considered what would follow.

  In a final effort to stop the imminent battle from happening on board his ship, John dragged his mouth to Maria’s ear and whispered. “Believe me, lass. This is not what I want. I’ll have to kill him if he comes any closer.”

  He felt the change move through her, as if she suddenly understood the situation facing him. John felt her hands move around him of their own accord.

  Tightening his arms around the rigid woman and kissing her soft earlobe, he whispered again. “This is Caroline’s doing. Help me, Maria.”

  She had to be insane to go through with this, but somehow she couldn’t reject his plea. She hesitated a bit, then closing her eyes to the world and to the shame which she knew she was bringing on herself, she slid her hands tentatively over John Macpherson’s shoulder, and yielded to his kiss.

  The moment she did, John tightened his grip, pressing the contours of her body against his, and pulling her away from the wall. He gazed into the jade green of her eyes.

  Maria raised herself on her toes and curved her fingers around the nape of his neck. Pressing her weight against him, she crushed her lips to his waiting ones. She felt his muscles tighten at her bold act.

  A moment earlier, John would have been happy–quite happy–just to drag her into his cabin and close the door. Assuming Sir Thomas had recognized Maria, that would have been enough to persuade the man to leave them and come back at another time. But the Highlander was no longer conscious of what he’d been thinking a moment earlier.

  Suddenly, everything had changed. A primitive desire was pouring through his veins. The beautiful woman in his arms was continuing to kiss him, her arms tightening around his neck, her hands pulling at his hair, encouraging him closer. Her soft mouth was teasing, tempting, yielding to his kiss, her body softening to an intimacy that he was all too willing to give. Again, John pressed her against to the doorjamb, and his hands shifted, his fingers gliding up over her shoulders, and then burying themselves in the silken mass of sable tresses.

  “Uh-hmm.” The older man cleared his throat discreetly down the corridor.

  “We must be early,” the other one responded.

  Maria heard the pins drop to the floor at her feet. Then she shuddered involuntarily as she felt her long, hair tumble around his gentle hands.

  The Highlander was sliding his mouth back and forth over her burning lips, urging them to open. Surrendering to his silent demand, she parted her lips. She heard him groan deep in his throat as he took a fistful of her hair, his tongue plunging deeply into the soft recesses of her mouth.

  A silent thrill raced through her as hidden desires flooded her. Feelings she never even knew she had suddenly erupted within her. Lost in the seductive play of his tongue, the heat of his embrace and his roaming hands, she responded with a newfound ardor previously unknown. Her body ached for his touch, her heart pounded, and her mind whirled in the heady closeness of his embrace. Maria gave another silent moan of surrender, as she parted her lips and took in his probing tongue. She gave all she thought she could, but his searching mouth delved even more deeply for more. And she gave it.

  “Perhaps we should go,” the young navigator whispered in the distance.

  “He was the one who asked me here,” the older man answered.

  She never been kissed like this before. She could feel his body, his hips–hard and pulsing–against hers. And like a famished pauper languishing at the sight of the feast, she found herself foundering, her body one moment wracked with sensations of crystalline clarity, and the next with sensations of misty oblivion. And she gave in to his touch, shuddering at the passion, matching his rhythm. Maria moved her fingers along his shoulders, wanting to feel the strength, the magic that she knew he held within.

  He was caressing her waist, his fingers rising beneath the heavy cloak to the sides of her breasts, pressing the firm orbs through the thickness of the wool dress. She moaned and pressed closer to him. Vaguely, she felt his entire body ignite at the open abandon of her response.

  To Maria, this was all a dream. The level of desire, the impending threat of danger, the overwhelming sensuality–these were things she had never experienced, never sought out, never known. She was helpless under the insistent pressure of his mouth and his searching hands. And to her dismay, she welcomed the incredible helplessness. She tightened her grip around his neck and pulled his face down even further to deepen the kiss.

  Maria drew in her breath and leaned her head against the door as his hands gently cupped her breasts through her dress. Then, as the Highlander’s lips moved to her earlobe, she angled her head to give him access. When he traced a line with his tongue and his mouth down the side of her neck, she felt her heart stop.

  “My God, you are sweet,” he murmured hoarsely. “And so beautiful...”

  It might have been the touch of his searching lips, working themselves inside the neckline of her dress, forcing a needle of consciousness into the pulsing mists of her senses. She didn’t know where it came from, but somehow Maria’s uneasiness reemerged as she slowly recalled that she was nothing more than a diversion the Highlander was using to deflect Sir Thomas’s attention from the wo
man in the cabin.

  In a second, anger and shame flooded through her, replacing the feelings that had controlled her only moments before.

  Caroline! Maria stiffened as the commander continued to kiss the skin of her neck, his hands continuing to explore her body inside her cloak with practiced certainty. Quite an audience for him, she realized, sadness adding nothing to her damaged self-respect.

  From down the hall, the young man’s words reached her. “Well, Sir Thomas, I see we have a change of plans.”

  Maria knew Sir John was pretending he hadn’t heard David’s words. Angling his hand across her back, he continued to press his lips against her skin, his tongue teasing and provoking. His hands slid casually down over the curve of her buttock, cupping and pressing her hips to his.

  “Aye,” the elder man said with a chuckle. “It appears Sir John has something else on his mind.”

  John broke his contact with her mouth, and Maria felt herself being pulled around behind the huge frame of the Highlander. His attitude was suddenly that of a man caught off guard, and his action that of shielding her. When he spoke, though, his words had a note of amusement in them. “Ah...Sir Thomas...David. I see you’ve come. Well, tomorrow’s soon enough for what I’d wanted to say to you, Sir Thomas. Till tomorrow, then.”

  Maria watched the two men move back down the corridor, each of them throwing playful looks over their shoulders.

  “I say tomorrow is too soon,” the navigator said, loud enough to be heard.

  “Aye, lad. In fact, I’m feeling quite tired myself,” Sir Thomas said. “I think I’ll retire to my cabin and see if Lady Maule isn’t feeling a wee bit better.”

  Suddenly, John felt Maria stiffen behind him.

  “That is Lady Caroline’s problem, not ours!” he whispered, taking her hand in his.

  Maria pulled her hands away from him as he turned to face her. He took hold of her arms gently and smiled down at her self-satisfaction written all over his face. Maria disengaged her arms and shoved hard against his broad chest.