Or handsome.
Dark, wavy hair blew in the breeze and his face held a day or two’s worth of stubble. When last she’d seen him, he’d a beard covering most of his face. Now she could make out the square jaw, the wide, intimidating mouth, a distinguished nose that had been broken at least twice, and his eyes… She felt he could see straight into her soul. If he were the devil, he’d know just what she was willing to sell her soul to him for.
“My lady, Ja—Marina,” he said, voice full of confidence, a wry smile on his lips, as he swept a mocking bow and took her hand, bringing it close to his mouth.
A gentleman would brush the knuckles, or hover over the skin without making contact. But Savage was no gentleman. He pressed his lips firmly to the bare skin of her knuckles and left them there a hair’s breadth longer than was appropriate, enough so that she felt a shiver skid from that spot straight to her belly.
Jane swallowed hard and snatched her hand back. “Ye made good time.”
“Aye,” he said slowly, taking his time as he raked his intense gaze over her body. “I am most eager to collect my debt.”
“And ye shall.” She cleared her throat. “Now, if ye will, take me aboard your ship.”
Her gentle warrior did not look so gentle now. He towered over her, his breadth blocking out the rising sun. There was a low rumble in his chest she thought might have been a laugh, and judging by the curl of his sensual mouth when he said, “Nay,” she believed she was right.
Whatever game he was about, she wasn’t interested in joining in. She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “Ye would deny the treasure?”
“I would deny having ye aboard my ship.” He let go of her hand then, but his gaze still held her taut enough she might as well have been pressed up against him.
“Then ye shall not collect your debt.” Her nerves were so unamused, her heart leapt up into her throat, and she feared she might just start gagging.
“Lass, dinna trifle with me.” He spoke low, menacingly, reaching forward to tuck her hair behind her ear.
“I would never dare trifle with a devil,” she offered back, keeping herself steady.
He grinned. “Just as much spark as I remember. Now where is my treasure?”
“The treasure is up here.” She tapped her head, surprised at the strength in her voice. “And I will only share it with ye, if ye take me aboard your ship.”
“That is not how it works, lass.”
Jane frowned. This was going to be a lot more difficult than she’d imagined. “Walk with me, MacDougall.”
She didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she turned on her heel and marched up the beach. With his legs easily two hands longer than hers, he quickly caught up.
“I dinna like to be bossed around by anyone, let alone a mere slip of a lass.”
Jane let out a long sigh. “Please accept my apologies, sir. I am…” She wasn’t any good at this—figuring out just how to appeal to a man to entice him into helping her. Perhaps the best course would be to simply be honest. “I am in need of your help in escaping this island. In exchange, I am willing to share with you information that has until now been known only to me and a select few others.”
“Information?” The teasing turn of his lip lowered into a frown, and when next he spoke, it was not without warning. “Ye alluded to a treasure, lass. Dinna tell me ye’ve been lying.”
She shook her head quickly. “Nay. I’m not lying. The information leads to a treasure. Call me the map.”
“Ye deliberately misled me.” She thought he might be angry, but his tone appeared more amused than anything else.
Jane chewed her lower lip, peeking up at him through her lashes, trying to gauge just how mad he might be. Aye, she’d spent some time with him, exchanged a few letters, but…perhaps she’d underestimated the bond they’d formed. He was a pirate, after all. And men of his ilk saw only gold and jewels when they looked at the world around them. “I told ye what ye needed to hear in order to get yet to come to Iona. But I didna mislead ye. ’Tis the greatest treasure in Scotland.”
His eyes narrowed for a moment, and she thought he might say something more, but in the end he just said, “Tell me.”
“Promise to take me away from Iona.” This time, she didn’t hide the hint of desperation in her voice, and she glanced over his shoulder for added emphasis.
“Why?” Real concern etched in his face giving her cause to believe that the bond they’d formed was true.
Jane gave him her full gaze then, rather than glancing down at the sand or looking through her lashes. “Livingstone. He’s coming for me.”
While his expression did not change, there was a subtle pulse at his jaw as though he’d clenched his teeth, a flicker of something in his eyes. “I see.”
“He is coming to kill me.” Unbidden tears threatened, and she managed to hold them at bay.
Again, there was that flicker in his eyes, and she swore his arm twitched as though he wanted to reach for her. Oh, how she longed to sink against him, to feel the warmth of him. One night when they were on the ship, she’d fallen asleep beside him reading. When she woke, she realized he’d not moved, instead he’d just held her. How she’d cherished that moment for the past five years.
“How can ye be certain?”
His question brought her back to the present. “Mother Superior announced to us yesterday that we’d have special guest—Livingstone. That he was on a pilgrimage across the country. But I know he is looking for me.”
“Because he wants ye dead?”
“Aye.”
“Because ye were there at the death feast.” He stated it rather than asking.
“Partly. But also because of what I know.” She ran her hands through her hair and looked down at their boots sinking into the sand. “If only I were not so…stupid.”
“Lass?”
She flashed a bitter smile at him. “I shouldna have goaded William into telling me. Then I could be blissfully ignorant of it all.”
“But he would still be coming for ye, and then ye’d have nothing to barter with to get ye off the island.” Then his dark gaze roved over her body in a way that sent shivers rolling through her. “Well, almost nothing.”
She gasped, catching his meaning, and took a step back. “Ye’re a—”
“Devil?” he interrupted, stepping closer. “Aye, lass, I am, and it seems ye’re willing to negotiate with me. ’Haps I dinna want whatever secrets ye hold, but instead I want…ye.”
“I am not a pawn,” she shouted, feeling anger slice through her. “I am through being a pawn.”
The devil had the gall to laugh at that. All the fairytale apparitions floating before her eyes whipped from her mind faster than the lash on a pirate’s back.
“We shall see, Ja-Marina. Now, tell me your secret, and I will let ye know if it is worth the price of this gentle warrior taking ye off this island.”
He was mocking her. The cad. But what other choice did she have? It wasn’t as if she could get off the island on her own. If she bribed the fisherman into taking her away, he might only ask for what the pirate had alluded to, and she was definitely not willing to give away her own precious gifts to the old man.
“Last month, Joan Beaufort, mother of the king, was killed in a siege at Dunbar castle. A siege laid upon them by Livingstone.”
“I had heard.”
“She sustained injuries in the battle, from which she died. But her husband, James Stewart, the Black Knight of Lorne, was able to escape with their children and his page.”
“This is common knowledge, lass. Ye’ll have to do better than that.”
Jane nodded, twisting her fingers together. “The page was not his page.”
“His squire? His cook?” Savage chuckled. “I hope ye’ve got something more interesting than that, love.”
“He was Alexander.”
At this, MacDougall frowned, his face darkening. “Alexander who?”
“Alexander S
tewart, Duke of Rothesay, the eldest twin born on the sixteenth of October, year of our Lord 1430.”
Shaw’s scowl darkened. “The king’s twin, the elder twin? The one who died that day?”
Jane shook her head. “He did not die.”
“He did, my lady. Someone has fed ye a pack of lies, and now ye’re trying to sell them to me.”
“I am not lying.” But she did wonder if perhaps she had been told a lie herself. “William told me before he died that the Black Knight had a page who was the spitting image of the king. That the page, was in fact, the rightful king. ’Tis why Livingstone wanted my husband and his brother dead. Because they knew and could replace the puppet Livingstone is manipulating. Now he wants me dead. But not before he tortures the truth from me.”
“What truth? If ye know this, than he likely does, too.”
Jane shook her head. “He will want me dead for more than that. Livingstone…” She chewed her lip again, finding her throat tight. “I know the truth about where James and Alexander, the true king, are hiding.”
“How could ye know this?”
Locking her eyes on Shaw, she said, “Because, they came here seeking sanctuary. Because I told them where to go.”
“And Livingstone knows they were here?”
“Aye.”
“How?”
“Sister Maria.”
Shaw raised a brow.
“She came back, I wrote to ye of this. But after Lorne and Alexander’s visit, she left swiftly again. And now we’ve had word that Livingstone comes. I think she was a spy.”
At this final admission, the pirate opened his mouth and then closed it again. She might not have believed she could make him speechless if she hadn’t witnessed it herself.
“And where did ye tell them to hide, love?” His voice was soft, emerald eyes glittering.
“That I willna tell ye until ye let me onboard your ship. Until ye offer me protection.”
He grinned, but it wasn’t one filled with mirth, more like that of a pirate who’d just glimpsed his treasure and knew it would soon be his.
“There is only one way I will offer ye protection, love.” His grin took on a sensual curve.
Jane squared her shoulders, thrust her chin forward. “Name your price.”
“Ye…in my bed.”
Jane felt as though a gale force wind had knocked her back. He would take her information and her body? “Nay.” She watched his face darken and decided that perhaps another type of bargain could be hatched between them. “I shall agree to a…kiss, but nothing more.”
A brow winged up at that. “I’m a pirate, lass. I dinna claim anything without fully possessing it—including a woman.”
Another wayward shiver passed through her. Why did her body keep doing that? Why did that heated gaze he tossed at her have places on her body tingling that she didn’t know could tingle? Jane swallowed hard. Was there any other choice? Perhaps she could accept his terms, with an addendum of her own. “All right, but there is only one way I’ll ever enter your bed, gentle warrior.”
His eyes glittered like sparkling jewels. “Name your price, lass.”
Jane lifted her chin, meeting his gaze head on, and not wavering in the least. “Marriage.”
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Enjoy an excerpt from
Lady of the Moon
by Lathryn Le Veque
Chapter One
Year of our Lord 1444 A.D.
The Month of August
Cambourne, Cornwall
The Blackbottom Tavern
“Across the ocean of turbulent tide,
A heart that loved and was loved,
Her beauty made of moonbeams and starlight,
But her longing for home was….”
Whack!
The troubadour had come too close.
A hand came up, fist balled, and slugged the hapless man right in the face. Song instantly ended, he staggered backwards but, to his credit, didn’t lose his grip on his citole. The instrument remained clutched against his chest even as he lost his balance and fell on his arse, blood pouring from his injured nose.
A swell of laughter rose in the tavern’s common room, men and woman cheering loudly at the troubadour’s misfortune of having sung his sappy song to the wrong woman. He’d gotten too close to her, singing his song of courtly love and other things she found offensive, so she’d balled her fist and hit him. He’d probably think twice before singing to her again.
Amidst the heat and stench of the room, with smoke from a poorly designed hearth hanging about their heads like a blue fog, the woman who’d hit the troubadour was gazing at her companion across the table. In fact, her attention had never wavered from him, even when the stupid entertainer had hung over her shoulder and sang love songs that couldn’t have possibly been more misplaced. Misplaced because the man seated across from her was not her lover.
He was hiring her for a job.
The man, a richly dressed lord that bespoke of his wealth and rank, leaned sideways so he could see the minstrel on the ground, now being helped to his feet by men who were laughing at him. If he’d had any doubts about the ability of the woman across the table from him, those doubts had been summarily dashed by her swift and brutal movement.
She was a brute, this one.
It was late on this evening and the tavern known as The Blackbottom Tavern, two miles from the sea on the deep and mysterious inland of Cornwall. This was a land of legends and beasts, which was why men sought shelter when the sun went down. No one wanted to be exposed in the dark to things that lurked within it. Even with a full moon, the wilds of Cornwall after dark were not a place fit for man.
But along with its danger, it was also a place that bred strong and unusual warriors, as evidenced by the woman sitting across from him. A mercenary, she was, with the looks of an angel. Lady of the Moon she was called because no one really knew her name. All they knew was that when night fell and the moonlight shone over the wilds of Cornwall, the Lady of the Moon moved freely and without fear. Even if Cornwall after dark wasn’t fit for man, it was certainly fit for a woman.
A most remarkable woman.
“So,” the man in silks said as he refocused his attention on her, “you do not like songs. I shall remember that so you do not do to me what you did to that minstrel.”
The woman’s gaze was steady. “Do you sing?”
The man shook his head. “Alas, I do not, and I do not intend to start with you around,” he said, somewhat wryly. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes… as I was saying, you have my gratitude for agreeing to meet with me. I am willing to pay you most handsomely for a very important task regarding my son.”
The bloodied troubadour was forgotten as the woman cocked a dark eyebrow. “Go on.”
The man took a huge drink of the cheap ale he’d purchased. He smacked his lips. “My name is Henry de Leybourne,” he told her. “I’ve not yet introduced myself and, for that, I do apologize. My home of Tyringham Castle is just south of St. Ives and I hold the lordship of Tyringham, St. Ives, and Trevalgan, which means I have the means to pay you a great deal for your services.”
The woman’s gaze moved away from him and to the several heavily-armed men who were dotted around the room, men she’d seen enter with the expensively dressed man. She didn’t doubt for one moment he was who he said he was, but she was naturally leery of such men. She’d been in this business too long to instantly warm to, or trust, any man who wished to engaged her services. She needed to speak with him more to decide whether or not she even wanted to do business with him.
“I believe you,” she said, although it really wasn’t the truth. “You went through a great deal to summon me, Lord Tyringham. I have been receiving missives from you for the past three months, each one of them asking to meet with you. So here I am; what would you have of me?”
Tyringham cocked his head in a curious gesture. “Your name, please? All I know of you is that men call you Lady of the Moon
and that your stronghold is Mithian Castle. May I have your name, lady?”
“In time. Tell me of your task first.”
Tyringham suspected he had little choice; mercenaries such as the lady were often suspicious and wraith-like in the way the operated. If he said the wrong word, she would vanish like a ghost. Therefore, when he spoke, it was carefully.
It was time to get down to business.
“My son was betrothed as a young lad to a lass who lives in Penzance,” he said. “Her father, Lord de Sansen, is a great friend and we brokered a marriage between our children to strengthen our alliance in Cornwall. When our children wed, we will control the tip of Cornwall from coast to coast, from St. Ives all the way across to Penzance. You can see that it will be a very lucrative marriage.”
The woman nodded faintly. “I do.”
“Then you are an intelligent woman and my son is daft, for he does not see such an advantage. In fact, he wants nothing to do with her.”
The woman shrugged. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“Abduct him.”
Now, he had her interest. “Abduct him?” she repeated, puzzled. “For what purpose?”
Tyringham folded his hands on the table, looking at her quite seriously. “You will abduct him and take him to the caves of St. Agnes, where I will be waiting with his betrothed,” he told her. “You know the legend of the caves, do you not? If you do not, the legend goes like this – many years ago in the wilds of Cornwall, a beautiful princess was born. She was so beautiful that an oracle foretold of the men who would go to battle to win her heart. Her father, being a wise and reasonable man, did not want men dying for his daughter, so he gave her over to a young page to tend, keeping her hidden from the world. This young boy and young girl grew to love each other over the years, but tragedy struck when the father pledged the princess to the son of his enemy. The page and the princess fled to the caves of St. Agnes where they took their own lives just as the princess’ father was closing in on them. It is said that if a man and woman touch the walls of the cave where the bloodstains of the lovers are, then they will fall in love. I intend that my son and his betrothed should touch those stains so that we may cement our alliance.”
Leader of Titans: Pirates of Britannia: Lords of the Sea Book 2 Page 22
