“What’s going on, Father?” Such confusion had swarmed Duncan.
“I never wished to speak of this, no’ since you both took your mother’s death so hard.”
“Cait MacLennan has passed?” Shock had coursed across Mistress Grace’s face as she’d risen to her feet
“Aye, she took a terrible illness last winter. She’s been gone for nigh on a year now.” Father shoved off his desk and paced the solar then halted before him and Coll. “Since I no longer have any choice but to speak of this, I shall. Cait wasnae your true mother. Afore your birth, I handfasted with a fae lass named Beth, although she passed away while birthing you both. Mistress Grace was here at the time of your true mother’s passing and she took care of you until ’twas time for her to return to her own people at the village. The knowledge of your fae blood isnae something I speak of, ever, and neither of you are permitted to speak of it either, or your coming skill.” The war braids plaited at each side of Father’s head had swayed as he’d lowered to his haunches. “You are my sons, hold my blood, and your additional strength will be attributed to that fact alone. Do you both understand? I certainly cannae lose the alliance I’ve formed with the MacLennan, or the land I’ve come by.”
“Aye, Father,” both he and Coll had murmured, shock still coursing through them both. All he’d ever known had been a lie. His mother had been of fae blood, and now he and Coll would soon hold the fae battle skill. Along with the wave of shock came a flare of awe. Aye, he’d soon hold a skill, as those from clan Matheson did. Incredible.
“There is more,” Mistress Grace continued, the plea in her eyes clear to see as she’d eyed Father. “You must ensure Coll and Duncan are taught the arts of warfare well. One day, far in the future, they will meet a fae sorceress by the name of Muirin and her brother, a seer named Hamish. I saw them both in my vision. They are the ones who’ll ensure your sons fulfil their destiny.”
“What destiny?”
“All I can say is, ’tis time for the fae to live.”
To this day, twenty years on, Grace’s decree still rumbled through his mind, for he and Coll had met Muirin and Hamish only a few years after they’d left Father’s keep and taken control of their own strongholds on Loch Carron. Over the past few years, Muirin and Hamish had been instrumental in aiding him and Coll in strengthening their battle skill, and now they intended to fulfil the rest of their destiny. ’Twas time for the fae to live, which included him and Coll. Never would he allow Gavin MacDonald to take from them what they’d worked so hard to gain.
With a deep breath, he strode back along the grassy verge of the pebbly shoreline. A few of his men and the villagers continued to dampen the ashes with pails of water and he halted next to James and Hamish as they stood conversing.
Hamish eyed his forehead. “I see you didnae duck in time.”
“And you could have elaborated more about why I had to.” He shook his head. That argument could keep for another time. “Thankfully I found Ella, although Gavin unfortunately escaped us. He and his men abandoned their horses across the other side of Raasay and set sail. I didnae see them out on the water, although they cannae have sailed far. Ella has asked if she might join us during our hunt and I’ve agreed since I’d rather keep a closer eye on her.” He grasped James’s shoulder. “I’ll send supplies and men to aid in the rebuild once I return to Ardan House, but for now we must be away.”
“Your aid in the rebuild would be greatly appreciated.” James nodded.
“’Twill be done. Be assured of that.” To Hamish, he said, “Rope Ella’s skiff to our galley.”
“Will do.” Stepping backward as he left, his second grinned with a mischievous smile. “She’s a feisty lass that one. Our coming travels will surely be most interesting with her on board.”
“More than interesting.” Of that he didn’t doubt. Teeth gritted, he walked toward his men and once they’d gathered around him, he cleared his throat. “Ella Matheson will be sailing with us. The lass is of fae blood and still recovering from an illness which took her voice. She wishes to find her brother who sails with Gavin and will remain under my protection until I say otherwise.”
“If her brother sails with Gavin, does that no’ make her our enemy as well?” Ivor, his claymore glinting at his side, cast his narrowed gaze toward the inn as Ella appeared on the front step. “My laird, the compeller may have ended the battle at Dunscaith which we fought, but with her ability she could still so easily send us all to our death.”
“Hamish has seen that she seeks only to find and aid her brother in halting Gavin in his misdeeds. She desires only to seek peace, no’ war.” The need to defend Ella and ensure his men understood her true nature rose strongly within him. “Am I understood?”
“Aye, my laird.” A firm nod from Ivor and the remainder of his men around him. All followed his orders, for if they didn’t they’d instead earn his wrath.
“Take a dip and wash up. We leave immediately, the moment everyone is once again on board.”
His men dispersed and Ella stepped in beside him, a buttery-yellow leather vest now donned overtop of her tan tunic, her black leather breeches still clinging snugly to her shapely legs. Knee-high leather boots encased her calves and with her Matheson tartan tossed over one shoulder and her traveling sack over the other, she appeared a vision, one that made him catch his breath.
“I’ve informed my men that you’re joining us.”
“They may no’ appreciate having a Matheson on board, but I’d never harm them. I’d like to make that clear to them.”
“I already have.” He held out his hand for her bag and she passed it to him. He lobbed it to Ivor who’d bounded on board and the man stowed it under the rear bench seat.
She stepped into the surf and he scooped her up before the incoming waves splashed her. “Put me down.”
“Nay, there’s no need for you to get wet.” With her clasped close to his chest, he walked through the knee-deep water and swung her over the side onto his vessel.
Hands on her hips, she glared at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he boosted himself in. “Cease laughing at me, Duncan.”
“You agreed to following my orders, and you appear ready to complain about them already.”
“I agreed under duress.”
“I dinnae recall any duress, my grumpy one.”
“And cease calling me your grumpy one. That is the second time you’ve done so.”
“When was the first?”
“At William’s tavern when you attempted to dance with me.”
“Aye, well I dinnae quite have the best recollection of that night since you compelled me to forget some of it and then altered the rest.”
“I only compelled you to think of me as naught more than an annoyance. There is naught else you should truly have forgotten.” She jabbed him in the chest. “Cease toying with me.”
“I like toying with you. You make a worthy opponent.” He steered her down the center aisle, settled her on the rear bench seat beside him and shouted to his men as they boarded, “All to oars. I intend on finding Gavin MacDonald this night and ensuring he pays for his attacks against us. We shall seek our retribution.”
A hearty roar sounded from his men and they nabbed their oars, dunked them into the water while he gripped the rudder and guided them out of the bay.
“You are impossible,” Ella whispered. Arms crossed, she glared at him then stared out over the night-shrouded seas. “I truly wish I could have said that loud enough for it to have been more effective.”
“I understand that I frustrate you.” To Hamish, he called out, “Raise the sail”
His man nabbed the ropes and unfurled the sail. The wind slapped into it and sent them cruising through the inky waters of the sound, the moon hazy as it slid behind a thick layer of stormy cloud.
“You more than frustrate me.” Shivering, she tugged her tartan from over her shoulder and wrapped it around her. “’Tis getting colder.”
“I have a fur if you have need of it?”
“T-this is f-fine.” Her teeth chattered, her lips going suddenly blue.
“You should have said you were cold.” He couldn’t stand to see her so chilled. From underneath the bench, he foraged within his supplies and pulled out his fur. With the thick brown pelt in hand, he enveloped her in its warmth and tucked it in nice and tight under her chin. “Is that better?”
“Aye, but I wish I could say nay then see what you’d do next.”
“I’d offer you my body to warm you with.” Grinning, he lifted his fur higher at the back of her neck so it blocked the wind from behind.
“Do you flirt with all the lasses like this?”
“Nay, only you.”
“Then it appears I’m the lucky one.” Frowning, she wriggled closer to him on the bench. “Tell me more about Coll. I’m aware he’s your twin and the eldest.”
“What do you wish to know?”
“I may know of him, but I’ve never met him. Can one tell the two of you apart?”
“We’re the same height and build, evenly matched in strength, although there are enough differences to tell us apart.”
“Like?”
“Coll’s eyes are the same shade as yours, brown flecked with gold, whereas mine are a plain shade of blue.”
“Your eyes are a stunning shade of blue.” She snuck one hand out from within the fur, touched her palm to his cheek and looked deeper into his eyes. “They’re a warm blue, as vibrant in color as a clear summer’s sky. They’re also the same shade as my brother’s and my mama’s eyes. I’ve always wished mine were such a pretty color.”
“My eyes arenae pretty.” He’d never live it down if any of his men heard that comment. ’Twas just as well her voice couldn’t travel any farther than the two of them.
“They’re most definitely pretty, but in a very rugged sort of way.” She giggled. “You are just like Ethan. Whenever I call his blue eyes pretty, he acts as if I’ve just struck him.”
“I’m a warrior.”
“So I noticed.” She stroked her fingers back and forth along his cheek, a mischievous tilt lifting her lips. “Aye, you’re a very pretty warrior indeed.”
“You are the worst tease, and I clearly shouldnae have offered you my aid.”
“You didnae offer. I asked to join you.” She buried her nose in his neck, her next whispered words sending his pulse racing, “What secrets are you hiding from me, Duncan MacKenzie?”
“None.” He should insert some space between them, only he couldn’t move. Having her this close made his heart thump harder and every protective instinct within him roar to the forefront.
“Aye, you are, and I wish I could compel the truth from you, but that will have to wait until my voice is fully restored, unless of course you wish to share the truth with me on your own.” She kissed his neck and he barely remained seated. All he wanted to do was topple her into the planked boards underfoot and demand she kiss him proper.
“Sit back where you should.” The air suddenly stilled and the sail went limp. Up ahead, fog swirled as they neared the Isle of Skye, although he couldn’t make out the land with the veiled mist thickening by the second.
“Everything within me demands I get even closer to you and there can be only one answer for such an intense emotion to take me.” She searched his gaze.
“Which would be?” They glided right into the fog and it smothered them.
“For you to be my chosen one, only for that to be so, you’d have to hold fae blood.”
“My father is Colin MacKenzie, my mother the late Cait MacLennan. Neither have ever held your Matheson fae blood.”
“Yet I am still drawn to you, which is the way of those who are mated.” The gold at the edge of her beautiful brown eyes glimmered bright. “Those who are soul bound wait for their chosen one, and if you are my mate as I believe you might be, then you must have been waiting for me too. Am I right? Have you found it difficult to dally with another? Are you the one I seek, Duncan MacKenzie?”
“Nay, and I never shall be.” He couldn’t allow her to believe they were mated. So too should his men believe a bond had formed between them, then his fae blood would be exposed. They cruised deeper into the ever-thickening fog and his men dunked their oars deep and rowed while next to him, Ella shivered within the chilly mist. He wrapped an arm around her back and drew her closer to his side. Aye, he couldn’t be her chosen one, because that would certainly let loose a slew of trouble he had no intention of allowing.
Chapter 3
Sweet sensations flittered through Ella as Duncan wrapped an arm around her and tucked her closer to his side. The fog continued to thicken until she couldn’t see more than a few feet in any direction. Certainly his men on board weren’t visible anymore, only the splashing of their oars dunking into the water proved they remained close by. She rubbed her cheek against Duncan’s shoulder, snuck her fingers between the front ties of his black leather jerkin and traced over the hard muscles of his chest covered in a soft layer of fine white cotton. Aye, this man more than intrigued her. “Do you feel it?” she whispered to him.
“Ella, you need to cease touching me the way that you are.” He covered her hand with his and halted her movement.
“Something draws us closer together, and I’m no’ imagining it.”
“That something would be called your brother and your current search for him and Gavin MacDonald.” With the fog smothering them, he rose to his feet and tried to peer through it across the waves. “I sense we’re getting closer to Skye’s shoreline and I’ve no wish to sail into the rocks.”
“Go if you must. I understand.”
“I’ll return soon. Stay right here.” He strode into the soupy mist and disappeared.
Something sloshed over her shoulder and she wriggled around. Her skiff was tied to the stern only naught was visible other than the rope secured to it.
“’Tis about time my laird left you alone.” A hand clamped around her mouth then another around her leg. “Can you swim, lass? The shoreline is close, a mere few strokes away. I apologize, but I cannae have you compel us to our death, which will surely happen should you remain.” He tossed her overboard and she splashed into the darkened depths and went down.
Something scraped over her head. The hull of her skiff. Hands shoved up, she pushed against the underside and sank deeper and only once assured her boat had passed safely overhead did she kick free of Duncan’s fur and heave back up to the surface.
Stupid cloying fog, and stupid lost voice. She couldn’t even yell and alert those on board she’d gone over. Which of his men had thought to do her harm? Clearly whoever it was feared her fae skill and what she could do, just as so many did. She let out a long sigh, so not surprised. With only a few uttered words she could send a man to his death, not that she ever would. Never mind. She’d swim to shore and continue on with her mission regardless of Duncan and his men, her lost skiff too. She’d been caught in worse situations.
She rolled onto her back, scooped water at her sides and tried to get her bearings. The moon, a mere pinprick of light through the hazy gloom above, did naught to aid her or light her way. She rolled over and kicked in what better be the right direction.
With sure strokes, she swam at a good pace until a playful seal pup darted around and underneath her. The waters in these parts teemed with wildlife, which included some sea creatures she had no wish to meet, or become a tasty meal to. Goodness. The warrior had said the shoreline was close, a mere few strokes away. It clearly wasn’t.
With the cold water penetrating deep into her bones, she tried to kick harder but with each stroke her arms slapped heavier into the water and her legs, so chilled and numb, became no help at all.
Hot tears pressed behind her eyes and her greatest fear rose with striking force. Her death, and leaving Mama and Ethan to cope with the turmoil of their grief. That kind of heartache wasn’t something she’d ever allow them to go through, not after they’
d already lost Papa. She had to make it to land, wherever that dratted land was. She floated, the waves washing over her and salt stinging her lips and cheeks. The tide moved her and waves crashed somewhere up ahead. Land. Finally. She’d almost made it.
A wave crashed and she got washed up onto a cluster of rocks. Heaving to her feet, she stumbled to keep herself upright. Over the slickness, she clambered then staggered onto a pebbly beach. Shudders raked through her. Keep moving. She had to find shelter, mayhap within those trees swaying so very close. She walked and wobbled, black spots dancing before her eyes. Only a few more steps.
* * * *
Pain slammed through Duncan’s chest and he stumbled to his knees at the bow where he maintained a lookout for the rocks bordering Skye’s coastline. ’Twas as if someone had taken a sword and thrust it straight through his chest. He patted his heart to make sure no one had, the erratic beat burning and making him gasp for air.
“Duncan?” Hamish hauled him up by the arm. “Are you all right?”
“I—I—” Ella’s face wavered before his eyes, as if the pain wasn’t his, but hers. He lurched through the fog to the end of the galley and searched for her. Hell. Where was she? “Ella!” He bellowed her name. “Damn it, Ella. Answer me!”
Only the slapping of the waves against the sides of his vessel broke the silence.
“All eyes on the water,” he yelled to his men. “Ella’s gone overboard.”
The wind lifted, sent tendrils of the hazy mist swirling, enough that he caught sight of the rocks bordering Skye’s craggy shoreline. He turned the rudder and sent them directly toward land where the surf washed into the bay. They crested a wave, the hull scraping the sandy sea floor and as it did, he bounded over the side along with a score of his men. He searched the crashing waves where they came into shore, his heartbeat a raging mess, his men right beside him as they searched as well.
“There!” From the bow, Hamish pointed toward the darkened tree line.
Highlander's Caress: Medieval Romance (The Fae Book 2) Page 5
