by Bree Wolf
Garrett sighed in relief at hearing Duncan’s assessment. Still, something nagging sat in the back of his head, and his brows drew down as he sought to give words to what had him worried.
“Ye dunno believe me,” Duncan remarked, amusement in his voice as he glanced at Garrett.
“’Tis not that,” Garrett assured him, running his fingers over his chin and feeling the stubble there. When was the last time he had thought to shave? Claudia had still been with him. Suddenly, it seemed like an eternity ago.
“What is it then? For there’s clearly something on yer mind?”
“That man−Adams−he…” Inhaling a deep breath, Garrett remembered the few moments he had spent in his wife’s cousin’s presence. “I fear he is the kind of man to do something reckless when cornered.”
At his words, Duncan’s brows drew down and his eyes sharpened, all humour gone from his face. “Do ye think he might harm them?”
Garrett tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it would not be moved. “I fear he might,” he forced out through gritted teeth, pain radiating through his body at the thought that his wife and son might come to harm. “He struck me as a man obsessed with his perceived purpose. The moment he realised that my wife didna see him as her saviour, he turned on her.” Garrett shook his head. “I saw his eyes. They spoke of madness.”
For a long moment, Duncan remained silent, his watchful eyes turned inward as he contemplated Garrett’s words. Then he turned to his guest, the green in his eyes once more sharp and piercing. “What else do ye know of the man? Is he a fighter? Is he skilled with a weapon? What are his instincts?”
Forcing his mind back to the moment Mr. Adams had forced Claudia on board the merchant vessel, Garrett willed himself to relive the worst moment of his life. “He’s observant,” he said, his gaze directed back through time. “As he walked away with my wife, I followed at a safe distance, and yet, he noticed me. He said as one trained to be invisible, he still sees more than others would think.”
Duncan’s lips thinned, and he nodded in acknowledgement. “He’s observant then, but would ye say he’s got the instincts of a fighter?”
Frowning, Garrett shook his head. “I canna be certain. When he learnt who I was, he whipped out a blade with practised ease.”
Again, Duncan nodded. “What of yer wife?”
Garrett looked up. “What do ye mean?”
“What kind of woman is she?”
At Duncan’s question, a smile drew up the corners of Garrett’s mouth and he saw its effect in the one that lit up Duncan’s face in answer. “She’s fierce and daring, reckless and foolish, but passionate and devoted.”
Duncan chuckled, “Ye love her dearly.”
“Aye,” Garrett replied, feeling his heart warm at the mere thought of her. “She set out on her own when she learnt that our son had been taken. She left in the middle of the night, following the bread crumbs Adams had left for her.”
Duncan chuckle,. “Then I dunno think we need to worry about yer son as he already has a lioness by his side.” He nodded knowingly. “She will protect him. Ye’ll see.”
Pride warred with fear in Garrett’s heart. “And what of her?”
Duncan sighed, “Where her child is concerned, she willna take heed to protect her own life. Aye, if I were ye, I’d worry about her.” He took a step forward, his eyes on Garrett’s as he put a hand on his shoulder. “She might get hurt or she mightna. We canna know that, but,” he gripped Garrett’s shoulder more tightly, “ye need to trust her. Ye need to trust that ye’re not alone in this. Women−especially mothers−are stronger than ye think. My own wife may look like a tiny thing, but she has a fierce nature, and I dunno dare cross her…much.” A soft chuckle rose from Duncan’s lips. “I promise ye that we’ll approach with caution. Trust that yer wife will see to yer son, and ye see to her. Understood?”
Sighing, Garrett nodded. “Aye. Thank ye.” Meeting Duncan’s eyes, Garrett found that the words failed him to express his gratitude toward the bear-like man. Still, the slight nod of Duncan’s head told him that the other understood him, nonetheless.
Even without knowing him, Garrett MacDrummond, Duncan MacKinnear had answered his call for aid. He had readied his ship, gathered his men and was now sailing out to sea when he ought to be home with his wife and child. It was that loyalty and devotion, the desire to protect one’s kin and allies that still lived on in a highlander’s blood.
“Go rest,” Duncan counselled, determinedly urging Garrett toward the ladder leading down to the main deck. “Ye need yer strength. Ye have my word that I will have ye roused the moment their ship comes within sight. Go and dunno give up hope.”
Nodding, Garrett did as he was bid, and yet, his heart groaned in agony. After all, he had been living on nothing but hope for the past year, searching for his wife, always hoping that he would find her. Now, his heart and mind and body were weary, and all he wanted was to return home, his family by his side and let someone else hope for a change.
Soon, Garrett promised himself. Soon, he would retrieve his wife and child and take them home.
Any other outcome was not acceptable, and Garrett did not dare dwell on it.
Chapter Thirty-Two – The Voile Noire
The moment the cannon ball cut through the sea’s surface with a deafening roar, spraying the starboard side with buckets of cold and salty water, Claudia’s heart stopped.
With wide eyes, she stared straight ahead, her eyes unseeing as her mind slowly pieced together what was happening. “Garrett?” she mumbled as her heart crumbled and all hope sank into a bottomless pit.
Woken by the loud racket, Aiden squirmed in her arms, his little mouth wide open and his eyes pinched shut as he wailed loudly, expressing his anger at being ripped out of his slumber so rudely. “Hush, hush, my little Aiden,” Claudia said in her usual sing-song voice, and yet, to her own ears it sounded hoarse. Holding her son close, she bounced in her step as her eyes once more sought the ship approaching with daunting speed.
Darkness hung over the vessel, and Claudia gasped when she saw that one sail was pitch-black. Cannons were trained on them, and the ship’s crew stood on deck. Still too far away to make out their faces, Claudia found that her mind had no trouble filling in the blanks, providing her with horrifying images of soulless savages, armed to the teeth, out for blood.
“Garrett,” she whispered once again as though her plea could bring him to her side. “No, it cannot be him.” Never would he risk his family’s life by firing upon their ship. No, he would never be so reckless. Not with their lives. With his, certainly. But not with theirs.
The more disturbing thought was: if it was not Garrett, then who? And what did they want? Clearly, their intentions were far from friendly.
“Are you all right?”
Turning toward Sophie’s voice, Claudia found her and Mr. Adams hastening toward her, their faces pale and their eyes wide as they kept glancing out to sea at the approaching ship.
Claudia nodded. “We’re fine.” Then her gaze followed theirs. “Who are they?”
“I don’t know,” Sophie whispered, her voice tinged with fear as she clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. Then she turned to look at her brother. “Maxwell, what do we do?”
Although Mr. Adams held himself rigid, Claudia could see the same fear in his eyes that she felt in her own heart. For a long moment, he said nothing, overwhelmed by the disruption of his carefully thought-out plans. Then his gaze shifted to his sister and the look in his eyes softened as he reached for her hand. “Come, we shall speak to the captain,” he said, lifting his eyes to include Claudia, “and find out what is happening.”
Pulling his sister’s hand through the crook of his arm, Mr. Adams escorted them across the main deck, dodging sailors left and right as they scrambled about the ship in a rather disorderly fashion. With Aiden’s cries in her ear, Claudia slowly followed after the other two as they climbed the ladder to the quarter deck. One arm rema
ined tightly wrapped around her son while the other held on to the rail to ensure she would not lose her footing.
Finally reaching the deck, Claudia settled her son more comfortably in her arms, wishing he would stop crying. Still, she could feel her own heartbeat hammering in her chest and knew without a doubt that Aiden was aware of her agitation. No doubt it was she who was the reason for his current distress. If only she could calm down.
However, that was easier thought than done under the present circumstances.
Hurrying toward Captain Ronsford, Claudia sucked in a sharp breath when she saw the man’s dark red face and heard the tremble that shook his voice as he bellowed orders to his crew. Apparently, Mr. Adams saw it as well as his own face paled considerably. Still, he swallowed and with determination strode toward their captain. “Captain Ronsford, a word?”
Ignoring his guests, the captain marched around the deck, speaking to a sailor here and there before looking through his spyglass again and again as though he was still hoping that the ship gaining on them would turn out to be an illusion.
“Captain?” Mr. Adams tried again.
“What?” Captain Ronsford snapped as he spun around to glare at the unsuspecting former footman. “What do you want?”
Mr. Adams swallowed, and a part of Claudia frowned at seeing him so intimidated. “That ship,” Mr. Adams said, pointing out to sea, “what does it want? Who are they?”
Closing his eyes, Captain Ronsford shook his head as though no one had ever dared ask a dumber question. Before he could answer though, the wind carried over bits and pieces of his sailors’ exchange as they considered the approaching ship.
“…heard of the black sail…”
“…must be the Voile Noire…”
“…pirates…”
Mr. Adams’ eyes flew open the moment Claudia’s heart paused in shock. “Pirates?” he stammered, his arm tightening on his sister as though he was suddenly the one in need of support. “That is a pirate ship?”
Captain Ronsford rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Not pirates, you fool,” he snapped. “It’s most likely a privateer.” Again, he lifted his spyglass and peered through. “They have yet to hoist their colours, but I’d say she looks French. Rawlings?”
Out of nowhere, a sailor appeared beside the captain. “Aye, Capt’n.”
“Would you say she looks French?”
The wiry sailor nodded. “Me thinks it’s the Voile Noire.”
Captain Ronsford cursed under his breath and sent the sailor on his way.
Shocked beyond words−an utterly rare occurrence−Claudia stood beside Mr. Adams and Sophie, her son still crying in her arms, and looked at the fast-approaching ship, wishing she could wake from this nightmare. Her jaw quivered as she looked down at Aiden. She had only just found him. Would she lose him again after only so short a time?
The thought pierced her heart like a knife, and she cradled her son closer, feeling his little fingers dig into the fabric of her dress as though fearing he might lose her if he did not hold on tightly.
Swallowing down her fear, Claudia bounced her precious child in her arms, a smile coming to her face at the mere sight of him. “You need to be strong now, Aiden, do you hear me? But don’t worry. Mama will look after you.” After kissing his little forehead, Claudia settled him snugly into the crook of her arm, surprised that his wails had ceased, and he looked about with mild curiosity.
Encouraged by her son’s trust in her, Claudia lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. Whatever life would throw in her path she would overcome. She had made it this far, and she would not lie down and surrender now. If there was a way out of this, then she would find it. But she would need to keep her wits about her and not succumb to blind panic.
For her son’s sake.
As well as her own.
“What happens now?” Mr. Adams stammered, his eyes still as wide as before.
Captain Ronsford sighed, “We’re not equipped to fight. My men are not trained fighters,” he stated rather matter-of-factly, resignation now coming to his eyes as his anger waned. “We were meant to leave Glasgow in a larger group of ships to provide each other with a certain measure of protection. However, repairs delayed us, and although I’d hoped to catch up to them, it seems we’re not that lucky.” He heaved a large sigh and then shrugged his shoulders. “All we can do now is surrender.”
“Surrender?” Sophie shrieked, the whiteness of her cheeks matching her brothers. “But what will happen to us?”
Again, Captain Ronsford sighed before he nodded to a sailor nearby who immediately sprinted away. “They’ll claim the ship and its cargo for themselves and take the crew and passengers prisoners.”
Sophie drew in a sharp breath before they all craned their necks to see a white flag rising to the top of the merchant vessel’s main mast.
Surrender.
“They’ll take us prisoner?” Claudia addressed the captain as she fought to maintain her composure. “And what will happen to us then? Will they take us to France?”
The captain nodded. “Mostly likely. From there, we’ll be ransomed back to England. It’s a practise of war, miss.”
While Mr. Adams’ eyes went wide with fear at this news, Claudia breathed a sigh of relief. Even if she was brought to France first, she would at least be returned to England after that. She would not have to travel to the colonies but would soon be back with her family. Then she could send a message to Scotland. To Garrett.
The smile then died on her face. But Garrett would not be in Scotland, would he? Had she not hoped all these days past that he would come after her? If he did, he would sail to the colonies for nothing, searching a vast country for his wife and son while they were already safely back in England. What was she to do?
As Captain Ronsford hurried below deck, Mr. Adams stepped toward Claudia, his eyes suddenly hard and cold as he glared at her. “Do not think this the answer to your prayers,” he hissed, grabbing her arm and dragging her to the side of the ship, Sophie fluttering after them like a mindless hen. “If you believe you’ll be back with your ungrateful family in a matter of days, think again, Miss Davenport.”
“My name is Mrs. MacDrummond if you please,” Claudia retorted, her eyes hard as she held his gaze. “You forget that I’m married.”
A dark laugh rose from Mr. Adams’ lips. “That is of no importance now,” he hissed, leaning down until the tip of his nose almost touched hers. “We’ll be taken to France, and I’m certain it’ll take some time to be ransomed back…if at all.” An evil grin spread over his face, and Claudia felt goose bumps rise on her arms. “I’ve heard awful stories about what French captives must endure. Many are not alive to be ransomed back.” He glanced down at her son. “How long do you think he will survive in a French prison cell?”
Fear clawed at her heart, and yet, Claudia refused to be intimidated by this man who had already taken so much from her. Who was the very reason she found herself in this situation in the first place. Whether or not he spoke the truth, she did not know, but she knew she would not cower before him. “Remove your hand from my arm this instant,” she snarled, giving her arm a jerk to free herself.
A hint of doubt came to Mr. Adams’ gaze, and she was surprised to see him comply. Still, the hateful glare in his eyes remained, and he seemed to have more to say to her. “Legal pirates or not,” he hissed only loud enough for her to hear, “privateers have no honour, no morals, no decency. They’re barely men. They take what they want and kill those who stand in their way.”
Despite his feigned bravery, Mr. Adams’ mask of indifference began to crumble as he spoke of the horrors that awaited them. His own words seemed to chase away the anger that had fuelled him, replacing it with fear and dread. Red spots rose on his cheeks, and his chin quivered with each word to leave his lips. And yet, he would not stop. “I’ve heard they…amuse themselves with captured women,” he whispered, a slight sneer coming to his face as he looked down on her. “And what do you t
hink they’ll do with wailing infants?”
Terrified despite her best efforts, Claudia forced herself to hold the man’s gaze. “What happened to you?” she demanded. “Not too long ago, you saw him as an innocent.” Sighing, she glanced down at her little son, his blue eyes looking up at her were full of trust. “You saw him as someone deserving of your help, your protection. What has happened to make you disregard his life as though it means nothing? He has not changed. He is still the same innocent, little boy he’s always been.”
Besides the dim spark of regret that briefly lit up his eyes, Mr. Adams gave no indication that he felt remorse about their current situation and how they had ended up here. He merely shrugged. “It’s a harsh world. We,” he drew Sophie into his arms, “learnt that long ago. It would seem that your time has finally come as well. Good luck.” Then he stepped away as though washing his hands off her and escorted his sister back to the main deck.
Overwhelmed by all that had happened in the past few moments, Claudia stood by the railing, one hand clamped around the smooth wood, and tried to breathe. Her body trembled, and she knew she needed to calm down before her son would become upset once again. She needed to keep him safe, and so she needed to keep him quiet.
But if anyone should try to harm him, she would make them regret the day they had ever set foot upon a privateer’s vessel.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Claudia felt for the small carving knife hidden in her shawl.
