Highland Faith
Page 8
“I promise to only practice.”
He knew she wanted her quiver and bow. But ’twould be dangerous for his crew if he granted her wish.
“Captain,” Bram bellowed. “’Tis a school of fish.”
He chuckled. “We must fetch dinner, m’lady.”
She gripped his arm. Hope filled her eyes, curved her mouth. “Let me have my quiver and bow and I’ll gather all the fish you need.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Nay, m’lady. You fish with a line and pole, not an arrow.”
Anger darkened her eyes as she leaned a bit closer to him. “I wager I’d catch more fish than all of your men.”
Daft woman. Fishing with an arrow.
“Are you afraid I’ll shame your men?”
His men scrambled to cast their lines. “Nay, m’lady. My men are well skilled at fishing.”
She rolled her eyes heavenward and scoffed. “Well, go. See how many fish your men catch.”
“You’ll be fine by yourself?” Her arm tensed and he released her after she nodded.
When he glanced at her, she’d fisted her hands at her waist and blast if it didn’t push her breasts nearly to spilling out of the bodice of the gown. When she wore the britches, he was tempted. In the gown, even more so. Blast, what could he dress her in so he didn’t long to ravish her?
“Good luck, Captain Ross,” she called with too much sweetness. She obviously wished the opposite.
“Come on, lads, we’ve been challenged by Lady MacAlister.” The men laughed and he felt the daggers the lady threw at him with her eyes.
Ignoring her the best he could, he cast his line. The school would move quickly and they needed to gather as many fish as possible. Some would be eaten fresh for the evening meal and the others would be salted for later use.
“Got one,” Bram yelled in triumph. He pulled up the line and a fish dangled from the end.
“’Tis too wee for any use, toss it back,” Colin said as he started pulling up his line.
The school shifted and they’d yet to catch anything worth a damn.
“Captain,” she said from behind. “My quiver and bow.”
Dougal tipped his head toward him and whispered, “Give her a chance, Captain.”
He furrowed his brow. His sailing master wanted to allow the captive access to a weapon? ’Twas absurd. “Nay.”
“Bollocks,” Alec groused as another wee fish dangled from his line. He looked imploringly at him.
The men wanted newly-caught fish for the evening meal. Needed the meat since their stores were lacking anything fresh.
“Retrieve the quiver,” he said to Dougal. His man trotted away and returned quickly with the coveted quiver and bow in his hands. Dougal handed it to him.
Lady Faith paced to his side within a thrice. “Thank you,” she said as she held out her hand.
He felt the leather quiver and the engravings of deer and rabbit on its surface, the leather well-worn and holding at least a dozen arrows. He reluctantly handed them to her, pushed aside the urge to grab it back.
With speed and adeptness, Lady Faith slung the quiver on her back, gripped the bow and pulled out an arrow, then nocked it.
“I need a thin rope,” she demanded.
One of the men handed her a line. She tied it to the end of the arrow.
He watched her with awe as she blew golden strands of hair from her face, moved to the side of the ship. After a moment, she drew the bow, set her stance, squinted, and let the arrow fly.
She glanced at him, a smile of satisfaction curving her delectable mouth. She pulled on the rope and the men applauded.
The arrow dangled from a rope and had speared not only one, but two fish. Decent size fish which would feed at least two men.
“M’lady, ’tis amazing,” Alec said as he removed the fish from the arrow and set them in a bucket of fresh seawater.
“Wait,” she yelled to stop them. They all watched as she closed her eyes and whispered, “Thank you for providing for us. I ken your sacrifice,” to the fish before placing them back into the bucket.
“What did ye say, m’lady?” Dougal asked as the rest of the men gaped at her.
She looked sheepishly to the deck. “I gave thanks.”
Dougal solemnly nodded and the others chattered as if they were both impressed and perplexed.
Giving thanks? He stared at the woman and swore beneath his breath. Bollocks, she was so unusual. Not only how she wielded the bow and arrow, but how she gave thanks for the kill.
Seeing her for perhaps the first time, not just as a lovely woman, but with facets to her character, and he wanted to learn more. Where had she learned how to wield a bow and arrow? Why did she give thanks to a fish?
Wee Will patted her on the back and grinned at her as he had never seen him grin. The lady won over his men. ’Twould be more than difficult keeping them focused on the ransom.
He leaned against the bulkhead, observing the lady as she continued to lay onslaught against the school of fish.
Within a few minutes, fish filled the bucket. The men chattered like hens, each praising her prowess with the weapon. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes heavenward. How was he going to keep his men focused?
He thought back on the day in the forest. The image of Faith aiming the arrow toward the giant stag. He’d doubted her ability to fell such an animal. And now, he rethought her abilities. Her stance, the elegance of her actions as she stretched the sinew, paused, and released the arrow as if it were the easiest of motions, was telling. She’d much more experience than he previously realized.
He frowned. If she could spear two fish with a second of preparation, wouldn’t she be able to spear his men with fatal accuracy?
He moved to take the bow from her, then stopped. She removed the quiver from her back and she gripped her bow as if it were her life. He didn’t miss how she caressed the hewn wood. Faith strode to him, held out the cherished weapon like a peace offering.
He squinted at her, unsure if he should trust the gesture or not. Aware of his men’s interest, he accepted the gracious offering. Lady Faith watched him; a wistful look crossed over her face before disinterest replaced it. Still, her eyes never left bow and quiver.
After a moment, she said, “Thank you.” She turned and headed toward his cabin. Her back ramrod straight and she never looked over her shoulder at him. He sensed her sacrifice. How could he not? The impressive way she hunted, now and when they’d captured her in the wood, she’d a skill not many women possessed.
The dancing, he thought quickly. Not dancing, but practicing. Aye, one did not gain such prowess without practice. How her body had moved, each step placed with care; she turned and swung her arm back and then drew and aimed in a fluid graceful movement. The little furrow of her brow and the slight quirk of her mouth as she concentrated set his loins on fire.
“Did ye see what the lady did?” Alec said to Colin. “A miracle.”
Colin patted Alec on the back. “She’s a braw lady, to be sure.”
Damn, the men were smitten.
“I’ll have these ready for the evening meal,” Bram said as he lugged the bucket of fish. “’Twill be a feast, Captain.”
Aye, aye, a feast. Now how to remind the men Lady Faith MacAlister was their captive, not their mate?
Wee Will indicated toward the shore.
Thank God. Amit rowed toward them. While still quite a distance away, he’d be on board before midnight.
Now they’d have word about the ransom and the sooner he received it, the sooner Lady Faith would be with her clan.
Chapter 8
She hoped her plan worked.
By handing the captain her quiver and bow, she showed good faith that she wasn’t going to use the weapon
on his crew. He commanded the ship and if he deemed she deserved to have it again, then it would be up to him.
Damn, it smarted. She had always been in control of her weapons and when to use them. ’Twasn’t as if she’d go mad and start hunting the crew. They were in the middle of the sea and she’d not an inkling of how to sail a ship, and she feared the water. If anyone needed the crew, she did.
She looked out the window and watched the dolphins frolic behind the stern of the ship. They looped through the waves like children romping about—their glee obvious. Such lovely creatures who enjoyed their freedom and could have an adventure when they pleased.
Just as Captain Ross had free rein over the sea and could steer his ship in any direction, she remained tethered to her keep, her clan. She’d never have adventure after the captain returned her to her family. If she knew her sister and Aidan, they’d have her under guard at every opportunity, and her time in the forest hunting and exploring would be gone. She’d have to make do now. Let this moment, on this ship, be her adventure.
She leaned against the wall and continued to watch the dolphins. She glanced down, realizing she still wore the gown. Och, vexing how she’d forgotten. A wistful look at her clothing on the bed had her striding toward it. She picked up her liene and moved to put it on.
She sniffed and groaned. ’Twas filthy beyond measure. The bath water remained in the tub. Determined to wash her clothing, but disgusted by the filthy water, she glanced about to see if the captain had something she could borrow.
She’d extra clothing at her camp by her hunting grounds, but little good it did her now. So she was trapped in the gown. Defeated, she plopped on the bed amidst the garments the men had delivered and her dirty clothing and pouted.
“Stop being a chit,” she heard her older sister say. Aye, Hope would tell her to do her duty and stop whining.
“M’lady,” Bram said from the doorway. “The captain would like ye to join us for the evening meal.”
She rubbed her brow, glanced about the cabin. A meal with the men or more time alone? “Aye.” She hadn’t eaten much since she’d been on the ship and truly, her stomach growled with hunger.
“Weel, in about one hour’s time, m’lady.” Bram hesitated before he turned to go. “M’lady, thank ye for the fine fish. A treat for us, to be sure.”
She smiled at the gracious man. “I’m not useless in the kitchen if you need help.”
If possible, his smile brightened. “’Twould be a pleasure to have ye help me. Mind ye dinnae say a word to the captain.”
She rose and followed the man. As she took in the ship before her, each man worked and chatted, a few whistled. Her search for the captain rewarded when he bellowed an order for the rigging along the sails. She swallowed her fear as he neared the top of the mast, an impossible distance from the deck. Yet the look on his face mimicked that of the dolphins, pure pleasure as he laughed and tossed down some gear.
The sun glistened along his bare chest, highlighting each plane and valley of taut muscles. Brown skin as many sailors had made his tatau stand out in sharp contrast. Why the tatau interested her so much, she didn’t understand, but she wanted to touch it, feel his skin, and smooth her hand all over his broad shoulder and arm. ’Twould be warm, she imagined. Hot, even, with the sun shining down to heat his skin.
Her attraction to the man befuddled her. Yet, she couldn’t deny how it excited her and made the experience, the adventure, something more than expected and something to be treasured. Even after Hope and Aidan rescued her, sent the ransom, she’d have these memories on the open sea. And strange as it seemed, she’d Captain Ross to thank for it.
“Hello, darling,” he called when he caught her staring. He saluted and flashed a wicked grin.
There was no denying the wonderful tremors tingling her skin. She held her breath as Captain Ross held her gaze. Should she respond? And how? Could the man see what he did to her, how her heart pounded against her chest and a sheen of sweat dampened her palms?
After a moment, he winked, then barked an order to Wee William. The tall man waved, she assumed to indicate he’d heard since the man was mute.
Look at me, she thought. Show me you are feeling as I do.
But he continued working and she wondered if she’d imagined the attraction.
Colin swabbed the deck. Alec weaved lines. And the others moved about doing jobs she didn’t ken.
“This way, m’lady.”
She followed Bram into the hull and down the ladder. Her eyes adjusted to the dark and she saw the organization of the area. Stacks of wooden crates and barrels filled left of the hold and an open area with a large table and several chairs occupied the right. Through a large doorway, she saw the galley with a stove and pots and pans.
Mundane work, and work she’d never volunteer to do at Wild Thistle Keep, but ’twould keep her mind and hands occupied for the time being. And her thoughts from the captain on deck.
“Here, m’lady. If ye can help with the cabbage.”
She accepted the vegetable and moved to the table filled with cooking supplies. The galley, while tiny, appeared to have enough to feed the small crew.
“How did you become the ship’s cook?” she asked Bram.
“Weel, ’tis a story to tell, m’lady.” He deftly chopped onions. “Ye see, me limp made it hard for me to work on me farm. And when me wife died, I . . . I just wanted to die, too.”
She glanced up from the cabbage.
The man’s face creased with sadness.
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “Aye, a sad state of affairs. The captain found me in a pub. Drowning me sorrows in tumbler after tumbler.”
“The captain?”
His face brightened and the older man grinned. “Och, m’lady. He’s a grand gentleman.”
The man chuckled when she frowned. “He came in the pub, talked to me for a bit.” He wiggled his eyebrows and said, “Talked to the ladies.”
Ladies? She grunted. How many ladies were in pubs? “Go on.”
He shrugged and began attacking carrots. “When morning came, he offered me a spot on his crew.” His eyes turned shiny and he sniffed. “No man has respected me like Captain Ross.”
She smiled at the dear man and remembered the captain’s words when she’d questioned his treatment of Bram. How she accused him of making an injured man do heavy work. Apparently he knew how to handle Bram’s ego. He’d allowed the man to keep his dignity. “And the others?” she asked, trying not to ponder how honorable Captain Ross started to become in her eyes.
“Aye, the captain saved us all, to be sure.” A pensive look filled his eyes. “Each one of us a man in need, but none of us needed family more than the captain.”
Intrigued, she wondered upon Bram’s last words. She’d thought of the crew as his family and his words indicated the man standing before her did as well. “Why?”
Bram held up his hands and shook his head. “Och, m’lady. ’Tis his story to share, no mine.” He passed her some of the fish. “Ye should ask him. He’s taken a liking to you, to be sure.”
She pulled a face. “I doubt that.”
Bram chuckled and slapped the table. “’Tis the truth of it, m’lady. Not that we’ve ever kidnapped a lass, mind ye. But if he didn’t fancy you, ye’d ken it.”
She mulled over what he said as she started gutting the fish.
Bram cocked a brow at her. “At home with a knife, are ye?”
She laughed and tossed a fileted fish at him.
“M’lady, ’tis a sad thing to do to the man who cooks yer meals.”
She laughed again and felt startled at how often she’d laughed since being kidnapped. Colin and Alec had spoken to her with interest and respect. Bram and Dougal had shared a part of their lives with her. Such a contrast
to the lads at Wild Thistle Keep.
Aye, she’d heard them mocking her behind her back. Hard not to hear them when they only waited until she paced but a few feet away before they laughed or mimicked her instructions. Did it hurt or anger her? She gnawed on her lip. It angered her. She tried to help, do her duty.
Through Hope, Faith, and Honor, ye can rule.
The lads hadn’t been in the room when her father had stated his pledge, stated his daughters’ duty to the clan. They hadn’t seen the man whom she loved the most in the world die before their eyes. Tears pooled in her eyes. She swiped at them, determined not to cry.
His death had happened so long ago, but at times it seemed like yestereve. Her heart still ached, and when her mother had died, it had worsened. They were lasses without parents and while the clan was their family and Nora did her best to gently guide them, she knew Hope and Honor missed their parents as keenly as she did.
“M’lady?”
She shook her head and said, “’Tis nothing. Tell me more about your travels.”
“Oh, m’lady, the places I’ve seen. Captain Ross is a shrewd man of business, he is. When we were in New Guinea, och, such a country. Hot, so hot, m’lady. We Highlanders canna survive in such heat. And the people walk around with little clothing covering their dark skin. But the food grew right on the trees, plentiful and tasty to boot.” He stopped and took a breath. “We picked and picked and filled the hold with these hard fruits called a coconut with sweet meat and milk inside. Sold quickly as we traveled.”
How wondrous, the sights these men had seen. Imagine a fruit called a coconut. “And Amit, he’s from India?”
“Aye. ’Tis animals walking where they please. Great animals called elephants. And the food. Och, spices they call ’em and they use them in everything they eat.” He passed her another fish. “When we docked in London the spices fetched a bounty.”
“Tell me, Bram. If all of the goods Captain Ross sold fetched such coin, why does he need me?”