Cadha's Rogue (The Highland Renegades Book 5)

by R. L. Syme

  “I’m quite capable.” Valc cleared his throat when he let a bit too much of his own voice slip out of his disguise. His response to her unnerved him. He’d need to watch himself if he was to keep the ruse up.

  “I’m sure you’re strong enough.” Her pink lips settled into a rigid line. She didn’t believe him.

  Valc held up his arm, curling his wrist back toward his head. “If you would like to test my strength, you can feel my arms for yourself.”

  “As I said, I’m certain you…”

  “Go ahead, dear, try me.”

  One side of the beauty’s mouth curled up and she reached forward to touch his arm. Her hand gripped him, surprisingly strong herself. A slide of heat through his body sent him into a pulse of hot breaths and Valc found himself licking his bottom lip under the protective disguise.

  She withdrew her hand quickly and stepped back. “You are strong, indeed…”

  “Greta,” he said.

  Her blonde head nodded. “Greta. Nice to meet you.”

  “Thank you, my dear.”

  “I’m sorry for them.” She waved her hand after the absent fools. “They only just returned from a long journey and they need to stretch their legs and get into mischief.”

  “You’re from here?” Valc wondered.

  The woman glanced around, her gaze landing behind them. “I know these docks.”

  Vague. Interesting. He pushed a little harder. “You said your father would intervene. Does he live here?”

  The woman crossed her arms. “I heard you say you have a ship for hire.”

  “I do.”

  “Is it seaworthy?”

  “It is.”

  She reached behind her apron. “I can give you two Heller now, and the rest when I meet you for the journey.”

  Valc was about to extend his hand when he saw the hair on the back of it. He’d grabbed the wrong dress in his haste. The arms were too short on this one. He’d have to go back and get the other.

  “You can give me the full sum upon departure, my girl. When would you like to leave?”

  “As soon as possible.” She split her hair into three sections and began to braid. “I can be ready in half an hour. Less if you need.”

  “I’ll need at least an hour.” Valc picked up the staff. “And your name.”

  “Ca…” the girl started, then stopped. “Can I trust you to keep this a secret, Greta? Just between the two of us?”

  Valc smiled for a long moment before he realized the beauty couldn’t see his face. He nodded. “You can trust Greta.”

  “My name is Thora.” She stuck out her hand, but Valc couldn’t take it. He wanted to attempt the bold handshake, if only to feel the touch of her skin. He would make a point to do so once he had the longer dress.

  “And where will we be traveling, Miss Thora?”

  Her brown eyes focused across the harbor, as though she searched for the open sea. “We sail for Scotland.”

  Cadha snuck back down to her hiding spot once Greta had hobbled off. Something wasn’t quite right about her appearance. She moved with much more speed and surety than a woman her age ought to, and her arms… they had been so strong.

  At least she would have no problem operating a vessel. And the place Greta had requested to meet was on the other side of the cathedral, in Werkhaven. Cadha wouldn’t have to worry about her father finding her.

  If Greta’s calculations were correct, they could be to Wick in two days. That seemed such a quick journey, compared with what her father had described. Gone two days, back in two days. Her family would barely have time to miss her before she returned.

  The cave was barely above the water line, but she managed to tie up her skirts so they wouldn’t get wet. She needed to retrieve the purses. One carried her own savings, and the other was Maas’s. All in all, they’d managed to save up six months’ wages over the last several years.

  It would have been Maas’s nest egg when he was ready to marry her, or her dowry, whichever Papa required. It would be more than enough to hire Greta’s boat, and perhaps even another crew member if they needed one.

  Most of all, it meant Cadha didn’t need to return home. Her parents would be up soon, and they wouldn’t miss her all day, assuming she’d run off to the docks to mope. By the time they even knew something was wrong, she would be halfway to Scotland.

  She cinched up the purse, after counting the gold. Cadha dug out another of their hiding spots and pulled out the other purse. She would spend only her own, if she could help it, and save Maas’s to give to him.

  Once armed with the finances, she would need to go to Milla’s and retrieve the sack of clothes she always kept ready for when she might need to elope with her love. Milla could cover for her with her family, hopefully long enough to get to Scotland and then back home again.

  Ever since Maas had said they should marry, she’d been waiting for the day she would leave her home and go with him. That day had finally come.

  Cadha climbed out of the cave and scrambled up the hillside, just catching her feet in the cool seawater. Her muscles ached from squatting and she stretched her legs when she was finally upright. It had been so long since she’d been at sea, but there was no other option.

  Maas couldn’t have abandoned her. Something had to be wrong. Perhaps the Scots were holding him against his will and Papa simply hadn’t been able to ask the right questions. Or maybe he owed his sister money and had to work it off.

  But something was keeping him from her, and Cadha wasn’t going to rest until she was safe in her love’s arms once more. Even if it meant hiring a secret ship from a strong old woman and sailing across the sea on her own.

  I’m coming, Maas. The rhythm of those words calmed her heart like the tide. I’m coming. I’m coming. In just two nights, she would be with her love once more.

  Chapter Five

  The new dress itched Valc’s skin and he cursed himself for having long arms. Or for not having been born a woman. Then he wouldn’t be in this mess at all, and Thora’s promise of gold pieces wouldn’t have felt like a Judas weight on his soul.

  Upon reflection, he also cursed her destination. The coast of Scotland was often dangerous these days, given the recent renegade war that had spilled into the seas, but he needed the money. He could finally discharge his debt.

  Valc stretched down to reach Greta’s box and knocked the side to make sure he had secured it. It didn’t give way and he crossed the ties one last time so it hung from the ceiling, just out of sight.

  He would have to wait to deliver it until he’d returned from depositing the beautiful stranger in Scotland—assuming the trip was one way. Of course, it would be better for his pocket book if they went all the way to Scotland, and all the way back.

  “I’m here.” The feminine voice shot a jolt up Valc’s back. He tensed before turning to find the stunning face of his strange passenger.

  She had changed her clothes and finished braiding her hair, but the deep blue of her simple, snug-cut dress made her look older than he’d first guessed. She’d taken off the apron and shed the old wool she had been wearing. A pack hung over her shoulders and her eyebrows rose in eager anticipation.

  Valc almost couldn’t breathe, just taking her in. More so than even that morning’s meeting, he was struck by his body’s response to her. He could feel the race of his pulse, the humming of his blood, the force propelling him toward her.

  He’d never felt this kind of draw before and had always laughed at his friends who promised they’d fallen in love with some woman or other upon first meeting her. Love at first sight was not a possibility. Valc shook himself and cleared his throat.

  “Very g…” He stopped himself. Remember to be Greta at all times. He pitched his voice to mimic the old woman once more. “Very good, then. We should be off.”

  Thora stood on the edge of the dock and held out a tiny purse that strained and bulged in her delicate hand. “I’ll pay you half now, and half when we reach Wick.”r />
  Without thinking, Valc snatched the purse, realizing too late that he hadn’t stretched the long sleeves down over his hands. He glanced up at Thora’s face, but she didn’t appear to have seen his hand or his arm. She was too busy pulling the satchel off her back.

  Valc stashed the purse inside the folds of his heavy dress and took hold of the deck rail. With such a narrow cog, he hadn’t put up the gangway, and he found himself wishing he had.

  He pulled the dress sleeve over the top of his hand and held it out. “Come aboard, then. You’ll have to step on this…”

  Before he could give her instructions, she’d walked two steps back onto the dock, then taken a run at the edge and leapt across the water. She landed with catlike ease and took a deep breath.

  “Or you could do that.” Valc crossed his arms.

  “Never you fear, Greta. I’ve been on a thousand ships.” Thora dropped the satchel and dug around inside it for a long minute.

  Instead of casting off and pushing away from the dock, Valc took a cautious moment to admire the round, well-portioned backside that greeted him. She certainly had let her guard down—of course, that likely had more to do with thinking he was a woman than anything else.

  Thora produced a strangely long, thick ribbon from the satchel.

  “This is perhaps not the best time to be adorning your hair.” Valc barely managed to keep his voice intoned in Greta’s feminine pitch and yanked at the sash across his face, tightening it. “I’ll need your help to make way.”

  Remaining bent over, Thora tossed him a playful smile. “This ribbon isn’t for my hair.”

  Her hands went to work, double-quick. She slipped her skirts together between her legs and laced the ribbon around them, pulling it up and wrapping it around her hips. Then, each side of the ribbon was laced down one leg, wrapped and looped around itself.

  Valc found himself dropping his hands and staring in wonderment as this beauty used an innocuous piece of fabric to turn her long dress into what looked shockingly like a pair of men’s breeches. When she finished, she stood and admired her handiwork. The simple blue dress bunched in a few places, but it so expertly covered every inch of her skin, it was obvious she’d done this before.

  Who was this woman?

  He should have asked more questions before agreeing to take her on as a passenger, and if he hadn’t needed the money, he might have listened to his instincts. Thora was going to be trouble.

  She crossed the deck and began untying the bow line. “Will there be any additional passengers? Or can we cast off?”

  Valc realized he was still staring, standing at midship, like some green little boy, and not the seasoned sailor he was. He knew he would need her help, even just to get out into the open sea, but somehow, the thought of letting her do all the work caused his feet to start moving.

  “Let’s weigh anchor and be on our way.” He couldn’t take his eyes off the cut of her newly dressed legs and the sway of her body against the motion of the ship. There was a reason that women weren’t allowed onboard. How could a man expect to get any work done with that kind of a distraction around?

  He would have to find a way, because the next three days would be sheer and absolute agony if he didn’t make himself think about something other than the way his new passenger filled out her dress.

  Cadha enjoyed jumping through the riggings and running across the deck like a real sailor. While she knew the geography of a cog trade ship better than she knew her own home, her father had never really allowed her or her sister to act on their knowledge. The freedom of at last being allowed to do a sailor’s job sent her senses soaring.

  Greta didn’t seem thrilled with Cadha’s taking over so many of the jobs, but as an old woman, Greta was more suited to the helm. The ship was bigger than Cadha had expected to hire. Not as large as her father’s trade ships, or the newer, sleeker ship he captained as a privateer, but it handled like a dream. They caught the current quickly and were out of the bay before she knew it.

  A solid weight sat in Cadha’s stomach when she saw the spires of the cathedral scraping the sparse clouds. This must have been what it felt like to leave everything you knew behind. All the times she’d watched Papa sail away and wanted to be with him. All the times she’d wished to be on her own, with her love, sailing into the unknown.

  This was her chance.

  “You shouldn’t be up on that rigging.” Greta’s voice cracked and the old woman hobbled across the deck. “You’ll fall and break your neck, and then where would we be?”

  Cadha grabbed the rope and swung out, smiling. “I’ve been climbing around ships since I was born. I promise, I’m not going to fall.”

  Greta huffed and straightened, crossing her arms. The movement caught Cadha’s eye, but before she could put her finger on what was wrong, the old woman shuffled back to the wheel, stewing quietly.

  “I won’t get the rest of my payment if you’re dead.” Greta’s deep grumble wasn’t quite as quiet as she had perhaps intended.

  Cadha slid down onto the deck. “I promise, I know what I’m doing. My father is… was… well, he was a sailor.”

  “Plenty of girls grow up with seafaring fathers and think they know their way around a rig, until the wind catches a sail when they’re not watching and the boom drops them in the ocean.” Her gruff fussing made Greta seem older than she likely was—not that Cadha could tell with the woman’s shawl over her face at all times—but she acted like a leathery old sea-marm.

  “My father isn’t just seafaring, he’s…” Cadha stopped with her mouth open, feeling the tide of anger rise inside. She hated lying, but Kees’s warning about being free with her name had stuck with her. She could ignore her impulse to tell the whole truth.

  She mustered a smile and said, “I know my way around a ship.”

  “Just don’t break your neck, or anything valuable,” Greta muttered. “I don’t care who your father is. You’re the one who hired me. No questions asked.”

  “Good.” Cadha straightened her sleeves and made to flutter her skirts, but she’d forgotten the trellis of ribbon that stayed them. Instead of the nervous action she was used to, Cadha strode across the deck and to the bow. She noticed Kraaienburg point off their port side, sailing past at a nice clip.

  She turned back to Greta. “Shouldn’t you be making more to starboard?”

  The old woman grunted. “Whose ship is this, girl?”

  “Why would we not go through Amsterdam? Our berth is narrow enough to pass, and short enough to navigate easily.”

  “We’re not going through Amsterdam.”

  Cadha’s anger tide rolled in again. “But to go by Den Helder…”

  “…is the safest passage.” Greta’s voice was tight and heavy.

  “And the longest,” Cadha finished. She wanted to push the subject, but it was dangerous to speak too much about having been through the narrow slip at Amsterdam. It was a common enough route for pirates.

  “That takes us too close to England,” Greta continued, her voice dropping. “We’ll be better off going to Den Helder and staying well clear of land until we’re beyond Aberdeen. The seas aren’t safe everywhere, you know.”

  “I just… I never thought we’d be going by Den Helder.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have hired me to take you.” The shadow of a jaw set to working under Greta’s shawl and Cadha bit her lip. She didn’t want to anger the woman who was doing what no man would have done—the woman who was letting her run off to Scotland to find her love, unaccompanied and unfettered.

  “But it will take another whole day to go up to Den Helder and across the sea,” she offered as her last objection. “I need to be in Scotland as quickly as I am able.”

  “You will. I’ve never seen this trip take more than three days, four if the weather turns bad and we have to let the sails down.”

  Cadha placed both hands on the deck rail and sighed. Four days there, four days back. That was a different story than two quick
nights, which is what she remembered the old woman promising her that morning.

  She lowered her voice. “We could make better time going through the inlet and keeping in the lane that runs along the coast.”

  Greta’s hand tightened on the wheel. “Best let me set the course, miss. I know where we’ll be safest and fastest.”

  It had already been too long since she’d seen Maas. Cadha’s palms slicked. The point at Kraaienburg was already behind them. Their course was set.

  Cadha sat against the rail and expelled a long-held breath. She didn’t have eight days. Her father would send a fleet by then, no matter what lies Milla told him. Eight days was too long to be at sea.

  Chapter Six

  Valc’s nose itched under the shawl as he woke. He made to scratch it, but sat up double-quick. In a dead sleep and not used to the guise, he had about to pull the cover from his face. A quick glance around assured him Thora was nowhere in sight, but the curve of the stern reminded him where he was.

  Thora stood at the wheel, keeping watch as he’d instructed. Her face was relaxed and calm, and Valc took a moment to admire her. Her hair had been let down at some point while he slept, and it laid out behind her in the steady wind. She could have been one of the Dutch goddesses from Greta’s stories. By his estimation, her beauty was unparalleled, even among the legends of old.

  “Good morning,” she said with a smirk. “You snore like my father.”

  Valc’s spine jerked to attention. “I do not.”

  “You do. And with almost as much gusto.”

  He tucked the last of the shawl into his hood and grunted. “I’m certain I would have been told if I snored.”

  Thora’s round, dark eyes regarded him carefully. “Is your husband still alive?”

  “What makes you ask?”

  “Curiosity.”

  Valc turned to the open sea. “I could ask some questions myself, Thora, if there’s room on this ship for curiosity.”