The Blond Devil of the Sea: The Highland Ladies Book Three

by Barclay, Celeste

  “And what if I never am? What if I’m broken beyond repair, beyond what you can fix?”

  Rowan welcomed her anger. He welcomed the rage building in her eyes. He knew that if she had the energy to be angry, then they were making progress. He just wished he possessed the power to ease the pain that caused her anger. He wished he could take away her guilt and regret.

  “I’m not leaving you. Not this moment, nor in the future. I love you, and I have no intention of going anywhere. I’ll take you in any form I can have. The thought that I lost you, that I might never find you, or that if I did, you’d be dead nearly did me in. I can’t walk away.”

  Caragh stared at him before the tears fell, and she reached for him. Rowan climbed back onto the bed and slid his arm beneath her neck before shifting closer to share his heat and his comfort.

  “It’s not fair. Our bairn did nothing wrong. I never would’ve taunted her if I’d known she was capable of such a thing.”

  “I wouldn’t have let you if I’d imagined she’d punish us like this. I didn’t understand her depth of possessiveness. She didn’t love me. She just refused to give up what she believed was hers.”

  “What if I’m too injured to have any bairns?”

  “Before I met you, I never imagined having children. I did everything possible to prevent it. While I want a family with you, if that family is just the two of us, then I’ll live out a happy life.” Caragh nodded, but he was familiar with how her mind worked. “Don’t think that. You’re not less of a woman or a burden now that you worry you can’t have children. We don’t know that for sure. And your ability to bear us children has nothing to do with why I fell in love with you. Why I refuse to let you go. Would you love me less if I couldn’t spill my seed or if it never took root in your womb?”

  “Of course not,” her voice was surprisingly strident.

  “Then stop thinking that about yourself. I won’t have it. You shall rack up a tally of spankings if you continue on.” Rowan prayed he hadn’t gone too far. He feared any mention of physical force against her would bring back the horrors of the past sennight.

  “Do you promise?”

  He looked down and saw timidity that broke his heart. “Do you still want me to spank you?”

  She nodded her head. “I need it, and I think you do, too.”

  “Not before I’m sure you’re completely healed.”

  “Can I be the judge of that?”

  Rowan chuckled. “Definitely not. I don’t trust you in the least where that’s concerned. You’d earn a spanking well before you're ready, just so you could have another. I promised to protect you. While I failed you again, I will protect you from yourself.”

  “Rowan, don’t say that again.” Rowan furrowed his brow. “You’ve never failed me. You saved me in that cave. No one expected that attack, certainly not two vessels in the middle of the night. And before that, well, we both understand that was a different sort of failure on both our parts.”

  She brushed a kiss across his lips. “You’ll decide when I’m ready. And I shall listen to you.”

  Rowan smiled, and it dazzled Caragh. She smiled back, happy that he relaxed for a moment.

  “And you shall reserve the right to disagree with me. I already know.”

  She nodded and shifted. The movement caused her to moan and wince. It drew her attention back to her pain, and she looked at the covers that hid what happened during the night. The reminder sobered them as Caragh peeled back the blanket and linen. She took in the scene before her, the bedding and leine drenched in blood. It wasn’t as dark as she expected, but she swallowed as she tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed. Rather than argue with her or try to stop her, Rowan climbed around her and stood in front of her, offering his hands to support her. She rose to her feet for the first time in days. She wobbled, but Rowan held her. He eased her into a chair, then rushed to change the bedding. He helped her remove the soiled leine, clean herself as best as possible without a bath, then he put a fresh leine on her and put her back into bed. The cramping continued, but she slept as long as Rowan remained beside her. Rowan held her and prayed. He wasn’t convinced God could or would listen to him, but for Caragh’s sake, he’d do anything, even ask for God to favor her with his grace.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A light rapping sounded at the cabin door, and Rowan prayed that Keith had returned with news that they could put ashore soon. He looked down at Caragh and was confident she still slept as he peeled himself away from her and went to the door of his cabin.

  “We’ve just passed Tobermory on Mull. I’ll drop anchor and go ashore. If I can’t find anyone there,” Keith shrugged, “We may need to consider the mainland or Skye.”

  Rowan nodded as he looked back at Caragh. Most of the bleeding had stopped, but he had to change the bedding and her leine again in the middle of the night. Caragh stirred and reached for Rowan, but when she didn’t find him, she became agitated. “Find someone.”

  Rowan climbed back into bed, and Caragh settled. The next two hours were the longest of Rowan’s life. Caragh’s sleep was fitful. He knew it wasn’t pain that made her restless. She spoke in her sleep, reliving the attack on the ship and in the cave. Rowan learned more of what happened as she tried to shield herself from the invisible assailants. He bolted from the bed when another knock came at the door. He opened it to find an older woman standing before him with a basket slung over her arm.

  “Where is the lass?” the woman asked as she tried to peer around Rowan.

  “Who are you?”

  “Elzapeth. Yer mon said yer wife needed a midwife.”

  “Are you a midwife?”

  “I’m here. Lad, move aside. I’ve been delivering bairns since before yer parents kenned how to make one.”

  Rowan looked down at the woman once more. No one had dared call him lad since he first captained the Lady Grace. He took in the woman’s kirtch tied around her hair, her clean hands and nails, and the kindly smile she offered him.

  “Lad, if ye needed me badly enough to send a mon ashore, ye should let me examine yer wife.” She gave him a pointed look, leaving no doubt that she knew he was a pirate. He stepped aside, and she made her way to the bedside. She ran a cool hand over Caragh’s forehead as she noticed the remnants of the bruising and swelling. She looked back at Rowan, and it surprised him to catch sight of the glint of anger in the woman’s eyes.

  “I didn’t beat my wife.”

  “Someone did.”

  “We were attacked, and they took her from me. You can see they beat her, and you’ll see worse in a moment. She lost our bairn yesterday. I would have you check to make sure she’ll survive.” Rowan’s voice cracked on the last words.

  Elzapeth surveyed him, but seemed placated by what she saw. She turned back to Caragh and once again ran her hand over Caragh’s forehead and cheeks.

  “Mama?” Caragh murmured.

  “Nay, lassie. I’m Elzapeth. I’m going to take a look at ye and see what I can do to ease yer pains.”

  Caragh’s eyes fluttered open and looked at the old woman’s face, but it changed to panic when she reached for Rowan, and he wasn’t beside her.

  “Rowan?” she rasped. “Rowan?”

  “Shh, mo leannan. I’m here.” He walked to the foot of the bunk where Caragh could see him.

  “Lad.” Rowan raised an eyebrow as she called him that for the third time, but she ignored him. “Help me lift yer wife’s nightgown. I must be able to examine her. Pull it up high.”

  Rowan did as the woman bid, and he had to admit he admired her when she didn’t flinch at the sight of Caragh’s mottled skin. The bruises were livid shades of blue, purple, yellow, and green. She tsked as she peered more at the ones along the bottom of Caragh’s ribs. She unbound the bandage around her ribs as Rowan supported Caragh’s upper body.

  “Lay her back down,” Elzapeth directed as she smiled down at Caragh. “We are a wee thing. Ye have endured much. I can give ye poultices for
yer bruising that should help them heal faster. There’s naught I can do that yer mon hasnae already done for the cracked rib. I’d examine ye now to ken what’s happened since ye lost yer bairn,” she whispered the last part.

  Elzapeth looked at Rowan and raised an eyebrow before tilting her head to the door.

  “No. I stay.” Rowan’s voice was flat and unwavering.

  Elzapeth looked to Caragh, who nodded and reached for Rowan. “I need him here.”

  “Vera well.” Elzapeth arranged Caragh and began to examine her. Her brow crinkled as she pressed a gentle hand against Caragh’s belly and then continued her examination further. She looked at Rowan and frowned. “Do ye still have the bedding from when she began bleeding?”

  Rowan swallowed and nodded. “By the wall.”

  He looked to the other side of the table and a pile of linens he hadn’t had a chance to clear away. Elzapeth crossed the cabin and kneeled beside the pile. She sifted through it, and even sniffed a few. Rowan tried not to retch as he watched her, and Caragh turned her head away. Elzapeth came back to Caragh’s bedside.

  “Lass, look at me, if ye please.” She waited until both Caragh and Rowan were facing her. “Ye didna lose yer bairn. I dinna ken how ye didna given the beating ye took, but ye’re still with child.”

  “But,” Caragh choked, but no more sound would come out.

  “I ken what ye thought. But the blood on the sheets is nae the right color. It should’ve been a deeper red, like crimson, not bright scarlet. And there isnae any signs of the bairn or what would’ve been flushed out with it.”

  “I don’t understand. How could I not have lost the bairn if I bled so much? It was like a wave hit me and soaked me through.”

  “I believe ye, and I understand the confusion. Ye body took many blows just below yer ribs. Something must have banged aboot, maybe even punctured by yer cracked rib. Whatever happened, it wasna yer womb that released the blood.” Elzapeth leaned forward to whisper in Caragh’s ear. “The sheet’s covered in pish.”

  Caragh looked at the woman as she leaned back and nodded. “You’re sure?”

  “Aye. Ye’re still carrying. I would stay abed for the next several sennights to be sure ye dinna still lose the bairn, but as of right now, ye will be a mama in, I’d say, six or seven moons.”

  Caragh felt tears leak from her eyes as she looked at the older woman. “Thank you.”

  Elzapeth nodded before looking at Rowan. “I’m serious aboot her staying abed. Dinna let her up and aboot any less than three sennights from now, and even then, it should be minimal. Two moons time, and she should be well enough to move aboot as she did before. Do all the things she did before,” she gave them a pointed expression with a grin. “Dinna wait too long to go ashore before it’s time for the bairn to arrive. I dinna ken whether she’ll have an easy go of it or nae.”

  Elzapeth left several jars on the table with instructions for how Rowan should apply their contents. When he tried to pass her a pouch of coins, she shook her head. “I see how much ye love yer wee bride. She’s a sweet thing; kenning ye’ll take care of her is payment enough.”

  Rowan returned to Caragh’s side as the door clicked shut. He perched on the edge and held her hand, unsure of what to say. They sat looking at one another for a long time before Caragh ran her other hand over her belly. Rowan covered it with his own and leaned forward to kiss her nose.

  “I was so sure,” Caragh shook her head.

  “What did she tell you that she wouldn’t say aloud?”

  Caragh’s cheeks pinkened, and it surprised Rowan to see embarrassment in her eyes.

  “You heard her say that there were injuries we can’t see. She said the blood came from my body trying to get rid of it.” Caragh looked to the ceiling and huffed. “She said I wet myself.”

  Rowan stared at her for a moment, then maneuvered himself to lay next to Caragh. “I have never felt so lucky,” Rowan muttered.

  “What?” Caragh tried to turn her head to look at him.

  “That’s a minor thing compared to what we thought. We’re lucky, that’s all it was.”

  Caragh laid silently next to Rowan as he drew her into his arms. She admitted to herself that he was right. They were lucky, but she wondered how long their luck would last.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Caragh was the ideal patient for the next three weeks, but the moment her eyes sprang open on the first day of the fourth week, she was pushing the bedding away and testing her wobbly legs.

  “What do you think you’re doing,” came Rowan’s gravelly voice, still rough from sleep.

  “I’m going to get ready to go above deck. On my own two feet.”

  Rowan had been carrying her to sit in the sun and fresh air for a couple of hours each day, but Caragh was restless. She wanted to move around and be in control of her body once more.

  “Elzapeth said it would be at least two moons before you can be back to your regular activity.”

  “I’m not planning to climb the rigging,” she giggled and wagged her finger at Rowan, “And don’t get worked up. I’m not planning to do that again until after the bairn is born.”

  Rowan growled as he stood beside her. He looked down at Caragh’s beaming face and saw the excitement that had been missing for weeks. He pulled her into his embrace for a long kiss. They’d shared small intimacies and touches while Caragh convalesced, but there had been no outlet for their usual passion. Rowan groaned as Caragh’s hand cupped his hardening cock. He pulled her wrist from him.

  “Rowan, I miss you.”

  “I know. I miss making love to you, too.”

  “Just because I’ve been indisposed doesn’t mean you should go without. You know I want to bring you pleasure. I’m better than I have been since the attack. I wish you’d let me.”

  “I’m not taking anything I can’t give back.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Why should we both suffer? And besides, I want to.”

  Caragh reached for him again, but Rowan pulled her arm around his waist instead.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Caragh stomped her foot, and Rowan quirked an eyebrow. “This is one of those times when I disagree with your idea of protecting me.” Caragh stomped her foot again and crossed her arms. “I know I sound petulant, but I’m feeling that way.”

  Rowan wrapped her in his embrace, and she relaxed against him. “It’s only a few more sennights.” His lips brushed her temples.

  “Ugh.”

  “I love you for more than just what you can do in bed.”

  “Or on the table or against the wall,” Caragh quipped.

  “Cheeky.” Rowan’s laugh rumbled against her cheek. “Yes, there too. I miss making love to you, but that isn’t what defines our relationship.”

  Caragh recognized he was right, but it had been an integral part since day one. She longed for the connection again. She leaned back and cupped Rowan’s jaw. She stretched to reach his mouth, and their kiss began slowly but built as their need flowed between them. Rowan caught himself squeezing her bottom, but when he tried to draw his hand away, Caragh pressed it back against the globe of her backside. Rowan kneaded the supple flesh as Caragh rocked her mound against Rowan. Their kiss continued as Rowan glided his hand over her back, careful to avoid where some bruising remained. He cradled her head as she tangled her tongue with his. Her hands found the lacing to his leggings, and her hand slid inside. She moaned as she wrapped her fingers around his cock.

  “Caragh,” he warned, but he scrunched his eyes closed as his wife stroked him. His hips rocked in her hand of their own volition.

  “Let me, mo ghràidh.”

  Rowan’s breath hissed as his release overcome his control. He spilled in her hand as his cock continued to twitch. “That hasn’t happened to me in years.” At Caragh’s confused look, he shook his head and chuckled. “I haven’t finished that fast since the first few times I took myself in hand.”

  Caragh smiled as Rowan turned to
find a cloth to clean himself. When he turned back, he wasn’t expecting to find her standing naked. His eyes devoured her, not seeing the remnants of her injuries, but the body he’d missed sinking into, touching, tasting.

  “What’re you doing?” his voice rasped.

  Instead of speaking, she climbed back onto their bed and pressed her breasts together. She pinched her own nipples, and Rowan felt himself hardening again as her nipples tightened into darts. Her hand skimmed over her belly until her fingers ran through the thatch of strawberry curls at the juncture of her thighs. Rowan stared, riveted, as her fingers dipped within her sheath. He walked to the bed as if in a trance, then kneeled as he straddled Caragh, keeping his weight off her.

  “Rowan, I’ve tested myself while you’ve been on deck.”

  “What does that mean?” But he was sure he understood before she explained.

  “I’ve pleasured myself more than once. You wouldn’t touch me or let me touch you. I wanted to be sure I could manage.”

  “And if you hadn’t? If something had happened because of your impatience?”

  “My mother explained to me that making love was something that was natural, even when a woman is with child.”

  “But I doubt she imagined you nearly being beaten to death.” Rowan sensed his temper rising as emotions of envy, anger, and fear swirled within him. He recognized his envy was because he wasn’t the one to pleasure Caragh. He didn’t care that she’d found her release, and he hadn’t. He was jealous that he missed seeing and creating that release.

  “Rowan, I needed to know. I needed to know if I could, if I was ready for you. I am.”

  Rowan heard the pleading in her voice and caught her beseeching look. He understood this ran deeper than physical pleasure. Caragh had felt isolated and alone despite Rowan’s attention, and she’d spent hours by herself in the cabin. They were affectionate, but he realized she questioned her desirability to him while bruises covered her and then when she was still too weak for them to engage in love play. He’d seen her self-doubt and done what he could to reassure her, but he knew she still felt lost. He missed their connection, too.