The Red Drifter of the Sea: A Steamy Opposites Attract Pirate Romance (Pirates of the Isles Book 3)

by Celeste Barclay

  Finding a sack filled with potatoes, she rolled the root vegetables from the bag, then grabbed the heels of bread remaining from the night before. They were already going stale and were intended to be the next day’s trenchers, but they were still edible. She nabbed a wheel of cheese, three apples, two plums, and a handful of cherries. She dumped everything into the sack and moved toward the door, but suddenly realized it wouldn’t be wise to use the portal for her escape. She darted across the cottage and looked through the open hole that served as a window. There was no animal skin hanging since the weather was warm. She stuck her head out as she looked in all directions.

  Moira climbed through the window, yet again grateful for her small size. She’d resented being short and wiry for years, thinking herself unfeminine and undesirable. Kyle’s insatiable appetite for her cured her of those sentiments, and now she appreciated being petite since it would likely save her life twice in a day. She pressed her body flat against the wall, expecting someone to raise the hue and cry once they spotted her. When no alarm sounded and no racing feet pounded toward her, she eased away from the wall. Moira realized the light breeze carried men’s voices. They did nothing to keep their conversation private.

  She’d gotten herself turned around when she raced among the buildings, looking for somewhere to hide. Not knowing which direction was north, having no idea how to read the constellations, she moved in the opposite direction from the voices until she could weave her way past the blacksmith’s workshop. Next door stood what she assumed was a farrier since a corral lay beside the building. Biting her lip, Moira considered her options.

  If I steal a horse, I’m likely to put distance between Dermot’s men and me. But stealing is a sin; God’s Commandments say as much. What if the horse I steal is some family’s only means to work their fields? What if they punish the farrier for my theft? What if I’m caught? Don’t be a ninny, Moira. These people left me to protect myself. I owe them nothing. Maybe I could even convince Kyle to return here and leave them some coin one day. Kyle.

  Moira’s heart pinched as she slipped into the corral. There were only three horses tethered to a wall. Two were mares and one was a gelding. The mares looked to be finely bred, but they could never outrun the gelding. She was certain the O’Malley men who rode all rode stallions or geldings. Growing anxious as time grew short, Moira looked around for a saddle. She couldn’t find one, but at least she found a bridle. Her mother and father had bemoaned her wildness and affinity for riding bareback when she was younger. She wished she could point out to them that the skill would likely save her from a man neither would have ever countenanced her marrying.

  Moira slipped out of the corral once she’d bridled the horse. The animal made no sounds as Moira led it away from the other two. She glanced back at the mares, but they were disinterested in her or the gelding.

  Where to now? I should go the direction the men are coming from. They’ll think I’d go the opposite way, and it will take them time to double back. I need to be clear of the village and the meadow. I wonder if the O’Malleys camp under the stars or if there’s a tavern or alehouse in this village.

  Moira kept ruminating as she walked parallel to the path the voices came from. She jerked the horse to a stop and covered its nose with her palm when she was certain the men were even with her. She remained hidden until the voices shifted to be behind her. As she crept toward the edge of the village, she heard bawdy tunes coming from what she assumed was the tavern. The volume told her the establishment was full. The village was too small to boast such a crowd, so she deduced at least some O’Malleys were within. Between the drunken men in the tavern and the ones going to the farmer’s cottage, she opted to test her luck and assume none camped in the meadow or the copse of trees she’d avoided.

  Moira used a chopping block she found to help her mount the horse. It had been years since she’d ridden such a large steed, but she had ridden her father’s stallion far too often, earning herself a spanked bottom. But the freedom and wildness she’d felt had been worth the consequences. She had a fleeting thought that she’d resented being punished as a child, but she’d barely questioned Kyle’s discipline. Now she controlled the beast with ease despite being without a saddle. She walked the horse past the last few buildings, but her mouth dropped open as she caught sight of Dermot O’Malley relieving himself outside the tavern.

  “The bluidy bitch has my horse,” Dermot screamed as he struggled to pull up his leggings from around his knees. Moira snickered as the man fumbled and swore. She knew the O’Malleys moored their fustes somewhere near the cove, and she doubted any of Dermot’s men rode the two mares or camped outdoors, so she safely assumed that none would follow her on horseback. Unknowing which direction she headed, Moira spurred the horse forward. As she left the village, she realized she left from the same part where she entered. Leaning low over the horse’s withers, she clung to the reins and the animal’s mane as the steed barreled forward. She steered the animal toward the meadow she’d run across the day before.

  Kyle paced the deck of the Lady Charity, cracking his knuckles over and over. His crew gave him a wide berth, none wanting to be caught in the crosshairs of his temper. Keith sat on a crate and leaned back against the mainmast, watching his brother. They’d sailed all afternoon once they left the bay and arrived in the Wicklow port just after dusk, but they’d anchored away from the docks. The fading sunlight made it impossible for anyone on land to distinguish their ship from any other merchants. They flew the marque of the Earl of Argyll, just as Rowan and Ruairí had. They had the same arrangement as the previous two pirate captains. They paid a hefty tax to the earl, and he gave them his marque to sail under, lending them legitimacy when they needed it.

  Braedon inched toward Kyle with two pieces of hardtack and a strip of dried beef in his hands. Kyle glared at him, and the boy jumped back, his eyes wide. Kyle knew his expression was menacing. It was the same one he wore when he boarded ships he plundered, the same one he wore when he set people adrift. He grimaced and shook his head, not intending to scare the boy when Kyle knew Braedon was attempting to be thoughtful.

  “Thank you,” Kyle mumbled. He accepted the food with a nod, but once Braedon disappeared toward the galley, Kyle gave the food to Keith.

  “What do I want this for? I have food aboard my own ship, or I can raid your galley if I wish,” Keith mused.

  “Because I’m not hungry,” Kyle spat. He knew neither his brother nor Braedon deserved his temper. But the O’Malleys were nowhere in sight to be on the receiving end.

  “You haven’t eaten all day or night,” Keith pointed out.

  “Do you think Moira has?” Kyle hissed. “Do you think she’s warm and dry somewhere?”

  “She might be,” Keith shrugged. He returned Kyle’s menacing glower with one of his own. Kyle sighed and shook his head.

  “I keep wondering if we missed a cave or inlet when we searched. We were gone longer than Dermot when he went looking for her. Maybe he gave up because he couldn’t find her. And maybe he couldn’t find her because she found a place to hide. But she couldn’t hear me calling to her, so she didn’t know to come out. Or worse, she’s injured with no way to get out. And I left her there.”

  Kyle knew he rambled, but he’d always thought aloud with Keith as his silent audience. They both processed events and information that way, so Keith returned to sitting silently while his twin spoke. Kyle tried to work through scenarios where Moira survived and escaped the cursed cove where they never should have lingered. When he could think of no more, Keith nodded and stood, clapping a hand on Kyle’s shoulder.

  “Before sunup, we go ashore. We look around, get the lay of the land, ask some discreet questions. Once we know where things stand, we either find horses and ride south, or we sail back and scour the coastline for caves,” Keith reasoned. Kyle nodded, but images of Moira stranded in a cave, freezing to death because he didn’t get to her soon enough still distracted him. Keith interrupted his t
houghts with a shake of his shoulders. “This wasn’t your fault.”

  Kyle rounded on his brother and grabbed the front of the doublet Keith donned against the chill air. Kyle and Keith argued from time to time, but they’d never come to blows—even as children and adolescents. However, Kyle was ready to plow his fist into Keith’s jaw. With the barest of restraint, he released Keith and shoved him away.

  “Of course, it’s my bluidy fault!” Kyle kicked over a nearby barrel. “I raided her ship. I brought her aboard mine. I insisted upon keeping her. And I took her out where any O’Malley could see her. Then I didn’t even protect her.”

  “And I would have killed her,” Keith said practically. “You told me she dressed like a lad, and I’d never seen her before. I would have left her to burn, run her through, or tossed her over. I’d say her fate would have been a far sight worse if I’d spotted her ship instead of you.”

  Kyle offered Keith a jerky nod, knowing his brother spoke the truth. Neither purposely made women their victim, but Moira’s clothing and build had made her look like a lad. Keith might have ended her life before she could have pulled off her cap to show she was a woman.

  “I can’t ignore that blame still rests with me,” Kyle muttered.

  He looked toward the shore, the docks bustling as fishing boats returned for the evening. He looked south, toward where he’d last seen Moira. The pain in his chest threatened to bring him to his knees. No one other than Keith had ever connected with Kyle so intuitively as Moira. Despite the tension between them when he kept her under virtual house arrest, they understood and accepted one another’s emotional and physical needs. The happiest point of his day had been when he crawled into bed and held Moira before falling asleep. It was contentment he’d never experienced before. He could readily admit to his brother that the physical fulfillment with Moira was unparalleled. But it was the deep emotional tie, the implicit understanding of what they each needed, that he didn’t know how to express. He couldn’t bear losing that now that he’d found it. He’d never imagined it existed before Moira, but now he would do all that he could to have the opportunity for their relationship to develop. But if Moira wished never to see him again after what he’d put her through, he wouldn’t blame her. He just wanted to know she was safe.

  “Go back to your cabin, brother. Get some sleep,” Kyle suggested. “Tomorrow, we start fresh.” Kyle and Keith exchanged their customary embrace, whispering their pledge of undying love, before retiring to their respective cabins. Kyle sat on his bunk as he considered what he needed to do the next day. When his stomach’s growling echoed in the cabin, he realized he needed to eat and to sleep. Despite not wanting to do either, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to fight Dermot again if he didn’t tend to himself. And he suspected there was an almighty battle ahead of him.

  Twenty-Two

  “She’s not here,” Kyle murmured, defeated in a way he hadn’t felt since he was a young boy learning to survive among pirates. “Or maybe she doesn’t want me to find her.”

  Kyle, Keith, Tomas, Snake Eye, and Stephen sat in a booth at one of the Wicklow taverns, The Leg of Mutton. They’d spent the early morning searching the docks in hopes Moira reached Wicklow and looked for Kyle. When nothing came of that, they made their way through the town, drawing more attention than any liked, but Kyle insisted that their presence would circulate on the wind. He reasoned that Moira might hear they were there and come looking for him. He would be just as relieved if she found him as he would be if he found her. But the sun was sinking on another day, and Kyle still had no idea where Moira was, or if she was even alive. He refused to accept that she perished at sea. He’d seen her stubborn side enough times in their brief acquaintance to know she wouldn’t give in so easily. He also wanted to believe that she returned his feelings—whatever they were—and would fight as hard to reunite with him as he would do for her.

  “Then we return to the ships and sail back to Arklow. O’Malley will still be there. Either he has Moira, or knows where she is, or you kill him because he laid eyes on her,” Keith reasoned with a shrug.

  “I’m killing him regardless,” Kyle growled.

  “Aye, then. Eat up and let’s be on our way,” Keith said as he shifted in his seat once more. Neither Kyle nor Keith were comfortable being in port in an Irish town that didn’t welcome pirates. None of the men sat with their backs to the door, so the bench was cramped.

  “We weigh anchor tonight. I want to be in Arklow by morning,” Kyle stated. He didn’t care if it meant he put his men to the oars. If the wind wouldn’t get him to Arklow, his crew would.

  “And do we just go ashore in our dinghies?” Tomas spoke up. “What if the O’Malleys attack the ships while we’re ashore?”

  “That’s why I want to be there by morning. We arrive so early they can’t prepare for our attack,” Kyle explained. “They used the fog to their advantage. We use the early morning to ours.”

  The men sat in silence as they ate. Kyle left a handful of coins on the table before he made his way to the tavern owner. Whispering to the man, he promised the barkeep a pouch of silver if he kept an ear open about any young woman arriving in town alone. He would give him a second pouch if he sheltered the woman until Kyle returned. The man eagerly agreed, and Kyle prayed he hadn’t just signaled the sharks to circle Moira if she appeared.

  “We find O’Malley’s hiding place and burn his ships,” Kyle plotted as Stephen rowed them back to the Lady Charity. “If we find him, we bring him back to the Charity. I’ll deal with him alone. If we don’t find him or can’t burn his ships, we attack on land.”

  The men nodded but remained silent. None of the sailors enjoyed going on land for anything more than a night with a woman, but they could fight just as well on land as they could on a ship. With sturdy legs that kept them upright even on a listing ship, they rarely had trouble defeating opponents on land when nothing moved below them. When they arrived at the Lady Charity, the twins retired to Kyle’s cabin, where they stood over maps of the Irish coastline.

  “There,” Kyle said as he moved his finger from the cove where they’d spied Moira’s clansmen’s ship, then waited out the storm. He dragged his finger down the coast until he came to a bay. “This is where the O’Malleys lay in wait. It’s where they attacked us when Senga was onboard. Moira’s clansmen stopped north of there because they believed they could drop anchor and go unnoticed. It’s why I thought we could remain in the area. They appeared out of nowhere when they attacked us last year, but I saw where they retreated to. I saw the cave they entered.”

  “If they use foustes and corvettes, the bay must not be that deep. Our dinghies won’t serve us well if we’re attacking. We risk running aground if we approach too closely,” Keith pointed out.

  “Aye. That’s why my crew goes on land to find their camp or cottages. While we do away with the O’Malleys, your crew does away with their ships. If we decimate their fleet, it will be a long time before they’re a scourge of these waters again. Any who survive will retreat to County Mayo with their tails between their spindly legs.” Kyle straightened and crossed his arms, waiting for his brother’s assessment of his plans. Keith remained bent over the map for another minute before nodding his head and standing upright.

  “If we are there in time, go ashore before it’s light,” Keith suggested. “We row out together, and on the way, you show me the cave. My men and I burn their fleet. If you don’t find them on land, or you don’t kill them all, they still won’t be able to follow us or sail home. They’ll have no means to raid any merchants or pirates until they can rebuild. And they won’t have the funds to do that without raiding.”

  “And if they outnumber my crew on land? Or they lay in wait with their ships and outnumber yours? What is our contingency plan then? My idea only works if we can evenly divide the task,” Kyle wondered aloud.

  “Send Tomas to scout,” Keith stated. “The man is a bluidy wraith. I’ve never met someone who can be bluidy invis
ible like he can.”

  Kyle nodded before going to the door of his cabin and summoning Tomas. The captains explained their plan and showed Tomas the map. When they were in agreement, Keith returned to his ship, swinging through the air from one deck to the other, laughing merrily since both ships were underway and not tethered. Kyle heard his brother and shook his head, knowing he was just as much a daredevil as his twin.

  I’m coming for you, Moira. I swear. Tomorrow eve. I will have you back with me by tomorrow's eve. I’ll kill that bastard in the morn and sail for you by noon. Then I shall bring you to our cabin and worship every inch of you.

  As Kyle lay on his bunk planning every kiss and touch he intended to bestow upon Moira, he didn’t notice that in his mind, the cabin now belonged to the two of them.

  Twenty-Three

  Kyle dozed, but fear of oversleeping kept him from relaxing into a deep slumber. They’d sailed to Wicklow only to have a disappointing morning before sailing south to where they’d fought the O’Malleys just the day before. When the hour drew near for Tomas to go ashore to scout, Kyle met with his first mate and Snake Eye. Tomas and Kyle trusted no one else to watch the dinghy while Tomas moved about the cliffs. Snake Eye had a defect in his right pupil, making it more oblong than round. He swore it was why he had better-than-average vision. He could notice movement before anyone else, which made him the perfect scout’s scout. With a piercing whistle of warning to Tomas, he would have the dinghy back in the water with the oars out before Tomas hit the sand. The two men worked well as a team, so Kyle trusted them with this mission.