The Highlander’s Passion (Iron 0f The Highlands Series Book 3)

by Emilia Ferguson

  Everett looked back, and noticed a figure on the edge of the dock, gesticulating and pointing. He felt a flare of elation and resisted the temptation to whoop or wave. The captain at the wheel was looking away, his eyes focused on the waters ahead.

  “It’s a rare wind,” he muttered. “We’ll be blown along faster than we might wish.”

  Everett swallowed hard. He felt guilty. He had no idea what the captain had been doing, before he so rudely sprang aboard, and he had no means on him to pay either. “Sorry,” he said.

  The captain just raised a brow. “What was I supposed to do? Let that lot attack a woman?” he looked down at the deck, where Miss McCarrick was sleeping.

  “Thank you,” Everett whispered again.

  The captain had already turned away. He was in earnest discussion with a man with shoulders like a fighter, who was pointing demonstratively up at the rigging. Everett watched with interest. He had enough experience of traveling by boat, though he had to admit he had only very rudimentary knowledge. He would have liked to learn more. He watched as the crew – another man had appeared from below – set about guiding them along the racing river.

  Everett walked back to the rail, deciding he would do best to stay out of everybody’s way. He leaned on the side of the barge, standing close to where Seonaid was lying. He heard her groan again and bent down, crouching beside her.

  “Whist, lass,” he whispered. He reached out and stroked her skin. She made a face and turned away, and he saw her lips move. She was clearly starting to become conscious. He held his breath, knowing that, when she did wake, she would be feeling less than good.

  “What..?” she groaned, eyelids fluttering. “Who…?”

  “It’s alright, lass,” he whispered. “I’m here. You’re on a boat. The three men attacked us and…”

  He had no chance to finish the sentence. Rolling over, she vomited onto the deck and then scrambled to her knees, taking a step back from him, eyes wide with fear.

  “Let me go!” she hissed. “My father will be looking for me.”

  Everett looked around, feeling frightened. In the background, the captain and his crew were talking again, the big-shouldered man now standing at the wheel. None of them were paying them any mind, and Everett whispered urgently to Miss McCarrick.

  “Sorry, lass. You were knocked out. They were attacking. I had to save us…one of them…” he panted, about to convey that one of them had a weapon. She looked at his face and covered her lips with her hand, horrified.

  “Your face!” she hissed.

  He felt over his face. His eye – the one that was bruised from yesterday – had swollen entirely shut. He could feel that his cheek was swollen too, and he tasted enough blood to guess his lip had split. He must look monstrous.

  “Sorry, lass,” he whispered. “I reckon I got a bit o’ beating.”

  She sat down on the deck. She closed her eyes. Everett felt guilty. He stayed nearby, not wanting to leave her and yet sensing that she wished to be alone. He saw her lips moving and bent down, intent on hearing her words.

  “Everett,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  He felt his heart clench tight. She called him by name! She remembered. He smiled, wincing at the pain it brought to his face. “Och, lass,” he said. “Ye did nothing.”

  Miss McCarrick opened an eye. Her smile was swift. “It’s my fault you are in such a mess.”

  He shook his head. “No, lass,” he said slowly. “It isn’t. It was the same fools from yesterday.”

  “Yesterday?” she sounded interested.

  He lowered himself to the deck, stretching one leg out in front of him. His knee hurt. “Yesterday, when I was near your home, I was attacked, too,” he whispered. “I knew at least one of these brigands, from them. Same fighting style.” He spat meaningfully onto the deck. The huge sailor shot him a reproachful glance. He straightened up, wiping his lips dry.

  “You were attacked by the same men? Near my home?” she whispered. “You are sure?”

  “I couldn’t be more certain,” he agreed.

  Miss McCarrick stared at him. Her blue gaze was troubled, then it cleared. She grinned. Surprising him more, she held out a hand to him.

  “I am glad to finally make your acquaintance,” she said. “You saved my life. And you don’t even know my name. I’m Seonaid.”

  “Miss Seonaid,” he said. His throat felt tight as he whispered her name. “I’m right glad to meet you.”

  “Seonaid,” she corrected. “No Miss. It isn’t needed. You saved my life.”

  He raised a brow, his lips twisting in a grin. “Well, you saved mine, too.”

  She smiled. “Maybe we can say we’re even now? Or are we going to just keep on running into life-and-death situations, just for the joy of getting each other out of them?”

  He laughed. “Well said.”

  She leaned back on the side of the barge. They were crouched on deck against the rail, side-by-side, her long legs drawn to her chest, her hand close enough to his for him to feel the warmth of her skin on his fingers.

  “What do you think we can do now?”

  He frowned. He hadn’t really thought about it. All that had mattered was the imperative need to get them out of danger. He leaned against the side of the barge. The deck rose and fell under them. The sky was dark.

  “I don’t have any idea.”

  She laughed. “A good place to start. I say, we get off this boat as soon as possible, put in at the nearest port, stay in an inn and then try and get word to the Watch about this attack. Somebody has to be informed. We can’t just let people like that terrorize our town.”

  “What if they won’t?”

  “What if what?” she asked. She looked up at him with a puzzled frown.

  “What if, they’re not just prowling around stealing money?” Everett posed. “What if they’re only intent on hurting us?”

  Seonaid frowned. Then, eyes clearing, she laughed. “But…that’s foolish, Everett. Why would anybody want to hurt us, when we have never done anybody harm?”

  Everett went red. Even being called a fool by her had the strangest effect on him. His stomach tingled and he had to look at his hands, to distract himself. He laughed, a nervous chuckle.

  “Yes. I reckon that’s silly, aye?”

  She grinned. The wind whipped through her hair and he thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. “Aye,” she said. “I suppose.”

  They both laughed. The wind howled in the sails and the water splashed on the boards of the ship and the rain dripped from the mast. Everett felt happier than he had ever felt before.

  He was on the run, he’d just left his men, his friends, his resolution. He was bound to some unknown destination. Yet, he couldn’t make his face stop grinning.

  “We should arrange our stopping port with the captain,” Seonaid said.

  Everett nodded, feeling silly for not having thought of it himself. He frowned. “That ought to be done, aye,” he agreed. “But, lass…where are we?”

  Seonaid looked around. “Well, that’s easy,” she said. “We left the docks and went upriver, so the first stop we ought to come upon is Tollcross.”

  Everett frowned. “If you say so.” He shrugged.

  Seonaid smiled a secret smile and he just shrugged as the barge moved with speed against the wind. Everett frowned as she closed her eyes. She seemed tired. He reached out to take her hand but she shook her head.

  “I want to sleep,” she whispered.

  He paused. “Lass? Is that a good idea?” He knew enough of wounds to the head to know that it was a signally bad idea to fall asleep.

  She grinned. She was very pale, he noticed with some concern, and the bruise was standing out in even stronger contrast to her face. “Probably not,” she said. “But I’ll do it anyway.”

  Everett rested a hand on hers. She didn’t move her fingers away. The moment struck him to the heart, in the midst of the rain, the wind and the insanity
, it was the most moving thing that had happened all day.

  “Rest, lass,” he whispered, hurriedly getting to his feet. “Just try not tae sleep.”

  “I’ll try.” She shut her eyes and leaned back on the wall. He looked down at her, feeling tenderness melting his heart. Then he turned away and headed to where the sailors were busying themselves with the rigging.

  “Need a hand?”

  The captain and the big-shouldered fellow just looked at him. The third sailor made a derisive sound.

  “What sort of hand can a landlubber offer?”

  Everett shrugged. “Probably nothing. But that topsail's going to come loose in this wind. I’ll get it tied down.”

  The captain and the big-shouldered man looked at him. Then they looked at each other. They grinned.

  “Hey! Welcome aboard!”

  The big-shouldered man held out a sizable hand. “I’m Randall,” he said. “Nice tae meet ye.”

  “Everett.”

  The third sailor looked from one to the other of them with an expression of growing disdain. Then he turned and walked away. The captain chuckled.

  “Luke can have his temper. We’ll get on without him. Now, are ye offering tae go up there and fasten down the topsail?”

  “I’ll try.”

  The two grinned encouragingly and, Everett, feeling sick, started to haul himself up the mast. He hated doing this. Why was he doing it?

  If I ever forget how much I hate ropes, please remind me.

  He was still arguing with himself as he hauled himself into the rigging and reached for the stray rope.

  The wind was strong up here, and he felt it tugging at him, making the rope into a snapping monster, liable to pull his shoulder bone from its moorings as he tied it down. He gritted his teeth and held on.

  Coming down again felt insanely simple. After the hellish fight to get the rope back in place, it was like a celebration. He barely noticed as he let himself slide down to the deck.

  When he was on the wooden surface, Randall clapped his shoulder. “Well, that was a job I never thought I’d see done. I’m tae big tae do it, and we need the captain down here. And Luke there thought he knew how to do it, but we had our doubts. Grand job!”

  Everett glowed. He limped over the deck and flopped down beside Seonaid.

  “I did it!” he declared.

  Seonaid was asleep. Her long eyelashes rested on her cheeks and her smile glowed. She opened her eyes as he sat down.

  “Everett?”

  He swallowed hard. She remembered his name and she was awake. Suddenly, his disappointment that she hadn’t seen him ascend grandly into the sails wasn’t bothering him. He reached for her hand.

  “Lass. Did you sleep?”

  “A bit.” She whispered the words, her voice soft and low.

  “Good.” His eyes glowed encouragingly. “Well, then. Should we find a bite to eat?”

  She smiled. “I don’t think I want to think about eating,” she whispered.

  He chuckled. “Me too. My head is aching like somebody just drilled it to let the pressure out. In fact, I almost wish they would.”

  She chuckled. “Don’t you dare. I don’t want them letting your brains out with it.”

  He roared. “They might fall out, if they haven’t already.”

  She raised a brow and he felt a sweet glow of genuine warmth spread through him, dispelling the chill of the deck.

  “We should eat sommat,” he said. “Or try to go below.”

  “Why?” Seonaid whispered. “Our stop isn’t too far away.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “And in this wind, we’ll be lucky if we haven’t reached it already.”

  “I see.” Everett frowned. She spoke the truth, he could see the shoreline dimly through the mist, and he could just make out the sight of houses near the water’s edge. He stood.

  “Hey, Captain!” he shouted. “Can you put us off in Tollcross?”

  The captain cupped his hand around his ear.

  “Tollcross!” Everett screamed. His voice was hoarse, but it must have carried, for the captain gestured to him approvingly.

  At the next town, Randall came over. He clapped Everett on the shoulder. “Take care,” he murmured.

  “Thanks.”

  His eyes held those of the sailor and he felt the beginnings of a real friendship in that look. The man had a friendly face – a big nose, unbroken, a strong chin and brown eyes that held humor and care in their depths. He shook his hand.

  “Take care, Randall.”

  “You too. Goodbye, Miss.”

  “Goodbye, and thanks.”

  Everett reached out to help Seonaid down the gang plank. She held onto his hand and together they walked onto the quay.

  On the stone quayside, she turned and looked up at him with a sweet smile. “What now?” she asked.

  Everett lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know.”

  He was here in a strange village, on a shore he didn’t know, with a woman he had only just met and yet who was already very centered in his heart. He had no idea whatsoever what to do, but he was happy.

  ON THE ROAD

  Seonaid looked up at Everett. Her hair was soaked, plastered to her scalp. She was shaking, but she was strangely calm. She had never felt this calm in the presence of Westford, never in all the time since she met him.

  “We need to find the inn,” she said. “I reckon it’s on the main street. I went here once, with my father.”

  “I see.” He nodded. He didn’t seem in the least bit concerned about taking her advice. Nor did he seem in the least bit uncomfortable by the idea that she knew more than he did.

  How different to Westford.

  “Well?” she scraped a strand of wet hair out of her eye. “Should we go?”

  He shrugged and nodded. “Why not?”

  She laughed. “You seem very undecided.”

  “Maybe.”

  She laughed and he chuckled. They were still laughing as they walked down the quayside together to the main road. She walked close to him, acutely conscious of the presence of his tall, lithe body beside her own.

  “Lots of people about,” Seonaid observed as she stepped around a woman and her child. The move made her brush against Everett and her body tingled with the contact, even though it was brief.

  “Aye.”

  The street was surprisingly busy for a wet, cold afternoon – evidently theirs was not the first barge to have stopped off here. People of all descriptions – townsfolk, traders, odd job men – were thronging in the streets, on their way to a warm place and a hot meal. It was still raining and cold.

  Seonaid reached out to take his hand as they walked over the cobbles – slick with rain, and slippery – and it felt natural for him to support her. The touch of his hand was pleasurable and she felt it all the way along her arm to her elbow.

  “Thank you.”

  He went red.

  They walked together down the cobbles and into the small town.

  “That’s the inn,” Seonaid said. She pointed to a big stone edifice, with lights in the windows that shone brightly into the gloom. “I remember it from when we were last here. It has some comfortable beds, and does a good fish stew.”

  “I see.” He nodded. She saw a strange look cross his face and she wondered what he was thinking.

  She grinned. “Does it sound good?”

  “We don’t have much choice,” he chuckled. “So yes, even I am decided.”

  “Come on, then. With any luck, the same family own the place. At least I recall what they charged.” She looked at him as a thought occurred to her. “You have no money.”

  He looked round to the barge with utter shock on his face. “You’re right! And I didn’t pay them a fare!” He looked as if he was honestly planning to run up the shoreline, chasing the barge that was, even now, streaming forth before a high wind. She wanted to laugh, but she knew how worried he actually was.

  “They would h
ave said, if they wanted you to,” She reassured them. “It seems like you made friends.”

  “I suppose.” He still looked uncomfortable, and she patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Never you fret. I’ll tell the innkeeper who I am and ask they send the fee on to my father. And, as for the barge captain…there are only so many barges going up the river from Leith. We’ll find out who he is and make sure he’s paid. “

  She saw him frown, face dark, and felt a frisson of fear. What if he was like Westford? Would he take her genuine concern for an attempt to “rise from her station”? She took a step away.

  Everett just shrugged. “Well, it can’t be helped,” he sighed. “I’d feel bad, asking your father tae pay for me.”

  She felt relieved. He wasn’t like Westford! All the same, she shot him a look. “You’re helping me,” she pointed out. “Your friends there weren’t exactly kind to me.”

  “True.” His face looked dark.

  They made slow and steady progress to the inn. At the door, Seonaid wrung out her cloak and tried to squeeze the water out of her hair. She was feeling so weary! The lights of the inn seemed too bright and she squeezed her eyes shut, blocking them out. A voice spoke from behind the desk.

  “Lass? What brings ye here? A bite tae eat, for ye and your man?”

  “He’s not my man,” she said automatically. The woman’s face fell. An almost hostile look crept across it. Seonaid gulped.

  “I’m her cousin,” Everett said swiftly. “I’ve come down from the farmlands. We would like a bite tae eat, and two rooms to sleep in. We’re going back to Leith tomorrow when the tide permits.”

  “Oh.” The woman’s countenance cleared. Seonaid felt relief sweep through her. She resisted the urge to give Everett a grin, since the woman would guess some sort of lie was being told if she looked too relieved about it.

  “Ma’am, could ye please send the account to my father?” she spoke up softly. “He’s Captain McCarrick. We stayed here once, a few years ago. I was a wee lass then.”

  “McCarrick?” the woman beamed. “Aye! Of course I remember Alexander McCarrick! A fine captain. Yes, we’ll send it to him, never fear, lass. I’m right glad tae be hosting his family.”