by Merry Farmer
Senga helped the couple onto the cart and landed the switch across the donkey’s rump. It brayed but moved forward. Senga did not look back as she led the cart to the path that headed away from the coast. She could not bring herself to take one last glance, but it also meant she did not see the men following her and the old couple.
Chapter 14
Ruairí tried to keep his knee still as his anxiousness grew with each sweep of the oars. The same sense that screamed for him to follow Senga to her cottage surged through him now. He had a sickening feeling that Senga was in danger, and he did not know where she was. Ruairí and Rowan spotted Caragh and Skinny as they stood in the field arguing. Ruairí took off running but had to hold his side as he pushed himself. Rowan could have outpaced him, but Ruairí knew his cousin hung back for his sake.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
Caragh looked at her husband and cousin-by-marriage, but she refused to look them in the eye.
“Wife, you had better answer now if you don’t want to find yourself over my lap with a switch across your arse in plain sight.”
A flash of defiance crossed Caragh’s face as she looked at Rowan, but the distress on Ruairí’s face made her relent.
“She’s gone, Ruairí.”
He stood staring at the woman who looked so much like the one he loved and wanted to throttle.
“What do you mean ‘gone’?”
“She left. She’s convinced she must uphold some pledge she made to God when you were ill. She promised to let you go if you survived. Senga believes she’s cursed since the men her life always die. She thinks she’s protecting you, Ruairí. Senga loves you.”
“Loves me? Loves me? If she did, she wouldn’t run away.” Ruairí felt his world crumble around him. He swayed on his feet, and Rowan was quick to hold him up.
“Ruairí, I don’t think you understand the depth of her love.” Caragh’s hoped her soft tone would calm the bereft pirate. “She’s willing to live a life of hardship alone to give you the chance to live. You know she has nowhere to go and no one to help her. Wherever she settles, she will have to make a life on her own, with no help from friends or family. At least when Alex died she already had a home on Canna.”
“She could have a home with me,” Ruairí croaked. He felt anger and bitterness creeping back into his soul. It had left him for the short time Senga had been part of his life. Now that she was gone, the void caused by her absence was rapidly being filled with the familiar feelings that had driven him since he ran away from home.
“Ruairí, you left everything you knew and loved to protect me,” Rowan said. “Do you not see the similarities?”
“No,” Ruairí barked. “It’s not at all the same.”
“But it is. I love you like my own brother. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you or to repay you for the sacrifices you made to keep me alive. She’s willing to do the same. Misguided as she is, she’s doing it because she loves you.” Rowan attempted to reason with his cousin.
“Ruairí, I told her it was a ridiculous plan and a ridiculous reason to leave,” Caragh cut in. “But she’s deeply wounded by the things that have happened. Far more damaged than any of us could see. She believes she not only causes her own misery but is the cause of the deaths in her life. She is sure she is cursed.”
“But I lived,” Ruairí whispered. His throat felt as if it would cinch closed, and he was close to crying for the first time since he was seven summers old.
“She’s driven by fear, just like we were when we left Barra,” Rowan reasoned. “Neither of us used much reason in those early months. We did whatever we had to. She is doing the same.”
Ruairí blinked several times before looking toward the village. “I won’t lose her.” He began walking and assumed the others would follow. He felt like it took him years to limp into the village. He looked around, but the market day crowd was dense. “She could be anywhere.”
“I can imagine where she went first,” Caragh replied. She took Rowan’s hand and dragged him into the crowd. Ruairí had no choice but to follow.
Caragh paused at every jewelry stall until she found one she knew Senga would have chosen. “I have a very particular ring in mind, and I wonder if you have anything similar to what I desire,” Caragh cast a shrewd look at the man. “It has a large ruby in the center with emeralds around it, as if to make a rose.”
She squeezed Rowan’s hand like it lay in a vice. She knew she would have to add that to her list of transgressions, since he knew which ring she gave to Senga to trade. The jeweler brought out Caragh’s ring.
“However did you have something like what I wanted?” Caragh asked, her charm on display. “Where did you find such a jewel?”
“A young woman traded it recently.”
“Did she happen to have black hair?”
“Aye. That’s the one.”
“Hmm. I saw it last sennight and admired it. I wonder where she went. I should like to thank her for the opportunity to own such a beautiful bauble.”
“I saw her leave to the east with an old tinker couple.” Rowan slipped the man a few coins as they turned to leave. “But I doubt they made it far. I spotted some unsavory sorts following them.”
That was more than Ruairí needed to hear to barrel through the crowd. He did not care who he jostled or what bumped against his wounds. He pushed through until he reached the blacksmith’s stall.
“I want a horse. Now.”
“I’m sorry — You’re Ruairí MacNeill.” The man looked over Ruairí’s shoulder and nearly wet himself. “And Rowan MacNeill.”
“Aye, we are, and I said I needed a horse.”
The blacksmith nodded and dashed to fetch any properly shod horses he could find.
Ruairí turned to Rowan and pulled him into an embrace. “This is where we part. You can’t bring Caragh along if there might be a fight, and I know you won’t leave her with just Skinny.”
Rowan pulled a short sword from his belt and handed it to Caragh before grinning at Ruairí. “Do you not remember how you met my bonnie bride? She had just killed one of your men. I would put my money on her before anyone else. Just as bloodthirsty as your woman.”
The three mounted their horses and raced out of town.
Senga knew they were being followed. She discreetly turned to look over her shoulder, but made it appear as if she were looking at the couple while the old woman nattered on. Four men followed them on horseback. They hung back, but there was no reason for them to do so unless they did not want to overtake Senga and the couple. They were past the outskirts of town, and there was no way Senga could turn back without alerting the couple or the riders. She pulled the dirks from her boots and laid them in her lap. She wished she had at least one of her swords, but there had been no way for her to bring them. Senga wished now that she had stopped long enough to trade for a new one. She used the whip to hurry the donkey along the road, and for once, the animal sensed her urgency. She stopped the cart when they passed through a bend in the road. Senga pulled away from the road and put her finger to her lips when the old woman began to ask questions.
The first rider made the turn, and Senga launched one of her dirks at the man’s shoulder. It met its mark, and the riders pulled to a stop. Senga was ready for the attack.
“You bitch. You shall pay for that,” growled the injured man.
“What do you want?”
“We know you came off the Dark Heart’s ship. We saw you row over to the Blond Devil’s ship, then come ashore with the other woman.”
It was the first time she had heard Rowan’s moniker, but she had to admit it suited him as well as Ruairí’s fit him. “So, what if I did?”
“Neither of those men take women on their ships. It’s said the Blond Devil married some chit he kidnapped. You came from the Dark Heart’s boat, so you must be his woman.”
“If I were, why would I be riding away from him on a donkey cart?”
This made the men paus
e, but the man with the dirk in his shoulder responded first.
“What does it matter to us? He will pay a ransom for you.”
“Why would he pay for my return if he’s already sent me away?” Senga hoped her lies would be convincing.
“If he doesn’t, then we shall keep you for ourselves. Perhaps sample you before we hand you over.”
“The only man sampling my woman is me.”
Ruairí’s voice seemed to echo in their surroundings. Senga whipped her head around to see Ruairí, Rowan, and Caragh galloping toward them. In the time it took for her to look away, one man grabbed her from the cart. She already had another dirk in her hand. She stabbed at any part of him she could reach, meeting her mark several times. The man released her, and she fell to the ground, rolling in an attempt to land clear of the horse’s hooves.
“Senga!” Ruairí sounded like an enraged wild animal, and the men, as a one, looked back at him. Senga watched in awe as Ruairí raced toward them. His long blond hair had come loose from his queue. He leaned over the saddle as he swung his sword through one, then two of the men, nearly cleaving them each in half. “You touched her. You will die slowly for that.”
Ruairí reined in and pulled the last man from his horse before dismounting. Ruairí leaped from the saddle, tackling Senga’s attacker before clamoring back to his feet. He kicked the man in the bollocks before severing both hands with one strike of his sword on each side. The man had not pulled Senga’s blade from his shoulder, knowing it would only make the wound bleed faster. He soon realized that leaving it was a far greater mistake than pulling it out. Ruairí leaned forward and twisted the blade as he pressed it to the hilt. It was only moments later that the bodies of the attackers lay strewn on the grass, dead where they dropped.
Senga watched in horror as she tried to hold both Ruairí’s horse and the donkey in place. She wanted to run when Ruairí looked at her. She shrank back and bumped into the cart. Ruairí stalked toward her, and Senga could only shake her head.
“Don’t you dare shake your head at me.” His hushed tone was even more menacing than him yelling her name. He reached for her and pulled her into his embrace. “Don’t ever, ever do that again.”
Ruairí clenched his hands in her hair as he cradled her head and drew her in for a kiss that poured all his anger and love into one searing brand. Senga leaned into the kiss, cupping his jaw as their tongues dueled.
“You are mine,” he breathed.
“I am.”
They kissed again; the conflagration of emotions burned through them as flames of desire flared between them. When they were both breathless, Ruairí ran the pad of his thumb over her swollen lips. Senga’s eyes fluttered shut as she struggled not to fall apart in his arms.
“I only wanted to protect you,” she whispered.
“I know. I know all about your foolish plan, what little there was of it. I shall relieve you of that foolhardiness when we return to our cabin, and I turn you over my knee. I should have done that ages ago. It would seem Rowan is far wiser than I am in that area. You might take a lesson from your cousin.”
Senga peeked over his shoulder to see Rowan sat on a rock with Caragh draped across his lap and her skirt about her waist. She was receiving a punishing spanking, but she seemed no worse for wear. In truth, Senga was certain she was enjoying it, or at least not fighting it. “Our cabin?” she asked.
“Where else would we be going?”
“Not your cabin?”
“Lass, you are not making sense.”
“You still think of it as ours?”
“Of course,” Ruairí noticed Senga’s anxiety as she seemed to shrink into herself again. “I didn’t come chasing after you just to let you go on your merry way. Senga, you are no one’s curse. Not mine, not your own. You are, however, the most infuriating woman I have ever met, and the one I shall love for the rest of my life.”
“I love you.”
Ruairí was sure he had heard nothing better than Senga sharing her feelings for the first time.
“Will you marry me, little one? I intended to ask you in our cabin this morning, but alas, you sent me on a merry chase to earn your hand.”
Senga fell against Ruairí but tried to pull back when she remembered his injuries. He anchored her in place, and she breathed the scent of sea air and pine that she would always know was his.
“I’ll marry you. I’d marry you this very moment if I could.”
“Then you won’t be fleeing my arms again?”
“I wasn’t running away from you so much as I was trying to outrun what I was sure fate would deliver. I love you.”
“I shall insist upon hearing that several times a day and more often at night. I love you, mo bhòidhchead.”
Ruairí had not called her his beauty since early in their relationship, using other pet names instead. It reminded her of why she had agreed to leave her home on a whim. She realized she was grateful for the intuition that said she should follow him. That intuition reared its head again, and she felt a calm settle over her as her soul seemed to speak for her.
“I want to marry you today, Ruairí. I don’t want to wait.”
“I’m glad to hear that because I already intended to take you to the kirk before returning to our ship.” Ruairí saw her shock once more. “Yes, she’s ours now. You will be my wife and are already my partner, whether or not I said as much. I rely on you, and so you should have your own share of our enterprise.”
“Pirates! They really are pirates!”
Senga had completely forgotten the old couple who sat on the donkey cart behind her. She laughed as she nodded her head.
“I won’t be traveling with you after all, but I thank you for your offer.”
Ruairí led Senga to his horse and mounted behind her.
“I can’t believe you haven’t keeled over yet.”
“I may very well do that the moment we get back to the Lady Charity. Until then, I have a wedding to attend.”
Rowan and Caragh followed Ruairí and Senga into the kirk. It took little effort and a large sum of coins to convince the parish priest to marry them without the banns being read. Ruairí and Senga were married in less than a quarter hour, and the two couples rode back to the coast. None of them wanted to remain, knowing people had already recognized them. At the dinghies, they agreed to sail on to Glasgow to pay the earl his due before going their separate ways for a few weeks. Ruairí agreed to meet Rowan in a month's time to sail to Barra. They would visit their clan together with their wives. Tomas rowed in silence as he counted his blessings that he might survive to see another sunrise.
Once aboard the Lady Charity, Ruairí introduced Senga as his wife to wild cheers. Even the most hardened and grizzled of his crew had fallen in love with Senga. He had few concerns for her safety now, and he granted the crew the right to a night of merriment while he planned to make merry of a different kind. Senga tugged at his hand and tilted her head toward their cabin.
They hurried below deck where Senga was undressing before Ruairí finished bolting and barring the door. She insisted upon inspecting Ruairí’s wounds before letting him touch her. He grumbled that she was taunting him with temptation when he had already suffered enough that day. Senga could not believe Ruairí had not torn any stitches and that he was still on his feet.
“I have reason to celebrate and reason to remain in the land of the living. I know I shall be sore in the morning, but I feel far better than I expected after making a mad dash after my wayward wife.”
They fell onto the bed in a tangle of arms and legs as their bodies fused together.
“I promise you shall only chase me to our bed from now on,” Senga whispered.
The love they shared shone in every word they whispered and every caress they shared as day passed into night, and the sun rose again to shine upon their future.
About Celeste Barclay
Celeste Barclay is the author of steamy historical romances, transporting you to the me
dieval Scottish Highlands, and on Viking conquests--where men are strong and women are fierce.
She lives near the Southern California coast with her husband and sons. She loves spending time at the beach reading a book or splashing in the surf. She's an avid swimmer, a hopeful future surfer, and a former rower.
A lifelong fan of historical fiction, a chance encounter with an historical romance novel changed Celeste's taste in books. Now she devours her favorite authors' newest releases while crafting stories you can't help but fall in love with.
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Jilted and Kilted
by Mia Pride
Chapter 1
“Curse it all, Ruby!” Papa slammed his fist on the intricately carved wooden banister for what felt like the hundredth time that night, the vein in his neck throbbing as it did when she defied him, which seemed to be more and more as of late. “William and the other guests will be here shortly and I expect you to welcome him the way a future wife should!”
Controlling the desire to roll her eyes and stomp her foot, Ruby put her hands on her hips and stared her papa in his blood-shot brown eyes. He truly had not been sleeping well and she wondered if it was her doing. Yet, this was her life and one could not raise a strong-willed woman bred from gentle pirates, then expect her to fall into line as requested. “You are marrying me to that boorish man to intentionally stifle my spirit! To keep me out of the family business. I am not a silly little woman, Papa. I know why you are marrying me off to the Vice Admiral of the Royal Navy. And if you think he does not know that we are all pirates, then—”