Highland Faith

by Hill, Madelyn

  “Mayhap on the morrow you won’t need to drink my tonic.”

  Another ritual that she’d grown tired of. Each night Honor tried to prod her into speaking about her time on the ship, but she kenned Hope pushed Honor to do so. Could she trust her sister with any of the information from her time on the ship?

  She walked toward the window and looked out over the keep. Darkness pushed against the glass as if trying to fill her chamber and suck her into the nightmares plaguing her sleep.

  Waves swallowing her whole. Being tossed overboard. The look of loathing on Graeme’s face. ’Twas the worst of it, the look of utter distrust and loathing. How he’d watched Aidan and ignored her silent plea for him to glance at her. She’d begged to go home, and he’d heard her.

  ’Twas an impulse, wanting to be in her keep with her family, the familiarity of the land and not the ever-shifting sea. The waves choppy one moment, calm at the next. And before her adventure, frightening to even think about.

  Now her legs, along with the rest of her, ached to see Graeme once again. If she just had the chance to explain herself and tell him, she’d tell Graeme she loved him.

  Honor gripped her shoulder from behind. “Tell me about him. I promise I won’t tell Hope.”

  She glanced back and saw the sincerity on her sister’s face. How many times had Hope asked her to discuss what happened on the ship? And as each sennight passed, she still refused to share.

  But looking at Honor, the solemn way in which held her gaze, she knew her sister would keep her word.

  “Sit.” They moved toward the chairs before the fire. The flames warmed them quickly, provided solace. So much so, she set the tonic aside. She’d need a clear head for the conversation, something the tonic wouldn’t allow.

  She started the story slowly, recounting the walk through the wood, the loss of the stag, and the wretched journey to the Blue Boy. “When I cast up my stomach all over his lap, I thought he’d throw me over board.”

  Honor covered her mouth with her hands as she laughed. “I would have.”

  “Aye,” she said wryly and with a bit of awe. “But he merely ripped his liene off and tossed it into the sea.” She didn’t share with her sister the pure masculinity of the man’s physique. Those visions she’d keep to herself.

  “Tell me more.” Honor tucked her feet beneath her bottom and settled in. It was either tell her the entire story or she’d hunker in for the night pestering her to death.

  With a shrug that belied her true feelings, she said, “His crew is a bunch of strange men. A man with tataus all over his face, the foreign man—Amit is his name.”

  “Aye, I saw him from afar,” Honor said with a frown. “Hope wouldn’t allow me to speak with him.”

  She batted her hand toward her sister. “He’s as gentle as a lamb. He told stories of grand beasties called elephants and funny creatures called monkeys.”

  “Elephants and monkeys,” Honor said reverently. “Can you imagine?”

  “And Bram, the cook, talked about the animals and the exotic fruits they sold in London. Och, Honor, what I would give to see an elephant,” she said breathlessly. Something rumbled in her stomach, a need, desire, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was she craved adventure and once she’d had a taste sailing on the Blue Boy, the craving had grown.

  “Where else did he travel?”

  “So many lands. On one of the islands, Dougal saved the chief’s daughter and they tataued his face. ’Twas an honor.” While she recognized the honor, she preferred the artistic tatau scrawled on Graeme’s shoulder. “Each stop allowed for Graeme to gather goods to be sold.”

  Honor lifted her brow. “Graeme?”

  Heat rushed over her face as she ducked her gaze. Just saying his name made her tingle and remember their last night together. A night filled with passion, need—longing. “’Tis what he asked me to call him.”

  She remained silent for a few moments, thinking about Graeme and her time on the ship. What an adventure she’d had. Before, her hunting excursions sufficed as little adventures away from the keep, her sister’s bossy attitude, and the feeling she was an outsider. Some would mock her thought of not belonging to such a wonderful clan. But since her mother had passed, it seemed as if there was nothing tying her to the clan. Foolish, true, since Hope and Honor were still there and she’d never known another way of living. But something deep within her pushed her to leave and find excitement.

  “The other men were orphans of sorts. They were fine, hardworking men.”

  Honor leaned forward and whispered, “But Hope said they were pirates.”

  She scowled at her sister. “Nay. Captain Ross was never paid to ransack. He set sail in order to earn the funds. He brought back goods from every country he visited, then sold them in England.”

  Honor’s face grimaced with doubt. She leaned over and gripped her sister’s hands between her own. Honor’s fingers were stained by the results of her toiling with herbs and concoctions. Hardworking hands that worked for the health of the clan.

  She kept her gaze pinned on those hands as she spoke. “He’s a good man.”

  Her sister’s scoff drew her attention. Honor furrowed her brow and her eyes, so like Faith’s and Hope’s, narrowed as well. “Why, Faith? Why did he need the money?”

  She stood with frustration and dragged her fingers through her hair. Her sister watched her with trust and curiosity. Such a lamb, she was. She loved her sisters with her entire being. They’d lived through the death of their parents, the Clan Council trying to usurp their authority, and Aidan MacKerry trying to claim the lairdship as his own.

  Remember, lasses. Through Hope, Faith, and Honor, ye can rule.

  How the pledge vexed her. How Faith wanted to rail at her father for making such a statement before his death. Didn’t he ken how it entrapped them? Made them responsible for not only leading together, but for the security of the clan as well?

  How could three lasses live up to such responsibility?

  “We can,” Honor said with a sigh.

  “What?”

  Her sister reached across and patted her cheek. “Father kenned us, kenned the clan. Mostly, he kenned what he’d done. We are to work together, support each other.”

  She tipped her head at her sister. “Bah, do you think Hope and Aidan want to work with us?”

  Honor shook her head and sighed. She stood and crossed to the window. “When I look about our lands, I see what Father and those before him created. Aye, there’s been war and treachery, but there’s also been peace and happiness.” She pointed toward the landscape now lit with moonlight. “We have to work together, Faith. If not for Father’s pledge, then for ourselves.”

  She laced her arms before her chest. When had wee Honor become such a wise woman? Was it truly so simple? Work together? She wasn’t certain it would be that easy. There were too many factors, especially with Aidan and Hope ruling together. Did her father know Aidan would appear one day?

  If he had, why had he made the pledge specifically for Faith and her sisters?

  She’d admitted to herself ruling the clan didn’t appeal to her. She liked working in the background, helping others and letting Hope and Aidan rule. Did Honor feel the same? With her healing skills, she thought her sister led in other ways.

  And didn’t she lead in a different matter? Teaching others the ways of the forest and how to secure food? And now, those she taught had proven to be able hunters. In her absence, she’d become unnecessary. Truly, all she wanted to do was leave the keep and explore, hunt, and make her own adventures.

  She may not have the open sea, but she did have her hills and forest and the animals within.

  But the sea called to her, strange as it may seem. And now she’d never have the freedom to stand on deck and taste the salty air.


  She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to ward off a chill. How she regretted her actions. It took all the strength she could muster not to rush from the keep, guards be damned, and jump into a boat and search for Graeme and the Blue Boy.

  Pure folly, truth be told. But there must be something she could do. She had to try to get a message to Graeme. But how? Surely, Hope and Aidan would stop such a missive.

  She glanced at Honor who stared at her with an intent look in her eyes.

  “What are you thinking, Faith?” Her gaze turned suspect as she strode toward her sister and just stared. Her imp of a sister stared her down just as she stared down prey.

  She shrugged and couldn’t help but smile. “Nothing.”

  Honor laughed. “Och, Faith. I ken you are brewing something in that mind of yours. Tell me now and I’ll help you keep your plan from Hope.”

  She canted her head to the side. “Why would you defy Hope and Aidan?”

  Honor gave her a hug. “Because I’ve never seen you so unhappy.” She pulled back. “Do you think your Captain Ross could make you happy?”

  She chewed on her lip. Was it as simple as that? “He could. But Father’s pledge—”

  With a grunt, her sister tossed her hands in the air. “Father’s pledge! Faith, you can’t let it rule you. You have helped this clan and taught many how to hunt. Your legacy will live on when they in turn teach their young.”

  Mulling over what her sister said, she merely nodded. Could she leave? More importantly, would Graeme want her?

  Oh, God. What if he didn’t want her?

  “He will.”

  She narrowed her gaze at her sister. “What are you, a little witch?”

  Honor chuckled. “Nay, but you wear your feelings all over your face, my sister. ’Tis easy to see what you are thinking.”

  Hmm. Mayhap. Or mayhap her sister had a special insight. She pulled her sister back into a hug. “Thank you, wee sister. Thank you for helping me.” She ruffled her sister’s hair.

  “’Tis what sisters are for, Faith.”

  Shadows shifted beneath the green of her sister’s eyes.

  Concern prompted Faith to say, “Is all well with you?”

  Honor flashed a grin. “Aye, right as rain. Now, let’s get your missive off to your man. ’Twill take ages, but ’twill be worth it.”

  Chapter 16

  Bollocks, the ship took forever to ready. If he didn’t sail from the harbor soon, he was likely to dive overboard and swim to Wild Thistle Keep. If the sea cooperated, they’d be there within a fortnight, at the most a month. Luckily he hadn’t asked the crew to careen the ship. If he had, the ship would have been turned and they’d be scrubbing its belly of seaweed and blasted marine life.

  “’Twill be soon, Captain.” Dougal patted his shoulder. “’Tis an urgency about ye. What treasure are we after?”

  He dragged his fingers through his hair as he watched the men load supplies onto the Blue Boy. “We aren’t going to the Ross castle.”

  Dougal laughed. “I ken, Captain.” He pointed behind them. “The castle ’tis in that direction.”

  He shook his head. What an amadan he was and what a fool his crew must think him.

  Not that it mattered. His crew would do anything he asked. If he asked to sail five days straight without rest, they’d do it. A loyal lot, each with their story, tragic and sometimes hopeful. But if they didn’t hurry, he’d throw them overboard.

  “Come on, Dougal, help me with the lines.”

  Dougal nodded. “Aye, Captain, but ye haven’t told me where we’re headed.”

  He stopped and glanced Dougal. “To Faith.”

  A wide grin spread across his mate’s face. “Aye, ’tis about time. Mayhap ye should let her know.”

  With a chuckle, he headed up the gangplank. His heart raced, pounding against his chest. A new voyage always excited him, but something else beat in his heart. ’Twas his love for Faith and the need to be at her side that urged his heart into a gallop.

  When he thought of Faith, he inhaled at the thought of making her his. Her confidence and skill, the type of woman a man could commit to, pledge his love to, and live out the rest of his life in an adventure with his bride. They’d share a love, like his parents, and instead of sweets, Faith would teach their bairns how to hunt with the same tenacity as their mother.

  Och, Faith and her bow. Never would he have thought a woman drawing an arrow would be sensual, but when Lady Faith MacAlister reached in her quiver and drew the bow, he wanted to toss them aside and ravish her for days on end.

  “What are ye thinking, Captain?” Colin said. “Ye have a funny look on yer face.”

  “’Tis the look of love,” Bram added with a bark of laughter.

  Dougal set his hand on his shoulder. “Now, let the lad be. He’s got a lady on his mind, so we best make sure we take care and get him to her quickly.”

  The crew laughed and went back to work.

  “Ahoy, mates.”

  He glanced over his shoulder and saw his father. A look of discomfort shifted over his face as he gripped the railing on the gangway. Dear God, would he lose his stomach as Lady Faith had?

  “Welcome aboard, Father.” He gripped his father’s elbow and led him to the Captain’s cabin. “Let’s get you settled.”

  He pulled back. “Nay, son. I want to help.”

  He laughed until he realized his father was serious. But one glance at the man showed he’d aged and had yet to gain his sea legs. “Sorry, Father, but do you have any experience aboard a ship?”

  His father straightened his back and gave him a stern look. “A Ross can accomplish any feat he puts his mind to.”

  With a quick nod, he then called to Bram. “See my father helps you set the sails.”

  His father patted his squarely on the back. “Thank you, son.”

  His father followed his mate. ’Twas strange to see the man on his ship. Stranger yet, the man said, “son.” He may never get used to it. The voyage could be long and hard and made harder if his father reverted to his old behavior. He prayed not, because he had to get to Faith.

  He helped the men secure the needed stores, pushing them to work as swiftly as possible. Yet it seemed as if they’d never fill the hold. The length of the voyage demanded ample supplies.

  “Wee Will, make sure the deck is ready.” The man nodded and his father followed behind like an eager lad. He hoped the man would be safe during their journey. Would he fall to the same seasickness Faith had? He grinned when he thought of her losing her stomach as they traveled by rowboat. Still a braw lass, even under duress. And such a shade of green she’d turned, almost as lovely as her eyes.

  “We’re ready, Captain.”

  Thank God. Just one more thing to do before they set sail. He headed to his cabin and grabbed a piece of parchment. He’d explain all in a letter. ’Twould take time to reach her, but he had to try to gain her forgiveness and let her know he sailed for MacAlister territory.

  Dear Lady Faith, he wrote. I’ve been but a fool.

  He tapped the quill against his lip. Tell her the truth. So he did; he wrote about his conflict with his father, going into deeper detail than he had on the ship. And he told her how he had to save the castle and the Ross legacy.

  My heart is yours, m’lady. Yours for the taking if you so choose. He signed his name and sprinkled the letter with sand to dry the ink.

  “Dougal,” he called.

  The mate stuck his head into the chamber. “Aye, Captain Ross?”

  He handed the man the letter. “Give this to a post boy.”

  His mate cocked his brow, but nodded.

  The men waited until Dougal came back and all cheered, for adventure was afoot on the grand voyage to Wild Thistle Keep.


  He headed to the wheel, gripped the solid wood in his hands, slid his fingers along the curve as one would touch a woman. “Father,” he called. “Come and steer us from port.”

  Laird Ross nearly ran to the wheel, excitement clear on his aged face. He gave a brisk nod before running his hand over the worn wood of the wheel.

  He turned and grinned at Dougal. “Weigh anchor.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “Is the letter ready?”

  Honor hovered just over her shoulder and pestered her for the last few minutes.

  “Not yet,” she said and then swatted Honor away. Would it be enough? Would Graeme’s heart be swayed by her plea for him to return? She prayed so. And she prayed sending it to Ross territory would somehow have the letter reach Graeme.

  One last look at the letter and she dripped some wax and pressed the MacAlister seal into the crimson puddle. With a shaking hand, she passed the letter to Honor.

  Honor smiled and with a quirk of her brows, she clutched the missive to her chest. “I will send a man right away.”

  She rushed from the room.

  She stood and ran to the door. “Honor!” she called. Second thoughts plagued her. Was it too late? How would one of their men even find the Blue Boy crew?

  Tired of the uncertainty consuming her thoughts, she grabbed a shawl and headed to the gated palisade. She shoved past the guards and her cousin Duncan.

  “Lady Faith!”

  She kept walking.

  “M’lady!”

  With a grunt, she spun around to face them. “I’m not going to hunt.”

  Duncan fisted his hands at his waist. “Where are you going, m’lady?”

  She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Just to the sound.”

  He furrowed his brow. “You hate the sea.”

  She took a step forward. “Not any more, Duncan. Now vex me no longer.”

  Her cousin glared at her.

  She swished her hands at him. “Go on.”