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My Hunted Highlander

Page 13

by Badger, Nancy Lee

Niall could feel the blood drain from his face. “Sinclair?”

  “Aye,” Brenda said, as she wrapped a fleshy arm around his waist. She smelled of onions and cooking spices, which made his stomach rumble.

  Brenda laughed. “We best feed ye, before Raven gets his hands on ye again.”

  “Is Brenda right? We saw bruises on yer back, and the scar on yer chest.”

  “Aye, Raven enjoys inflicting pain.”

  Both women shuddered.

  “Tell me more about Sinclair,” Niall asked, though unsure he wished to hear any more.

  Brenda kissed his scarred cheek. “Angus Sinclair, be his name. The captain made a bargain with the cur, in exchange for some information. Next thing we knew, she arrived.”

  Niall glanced in the direction Brenda’s chin pointed. Blair had stepped from the leafy trail, like a fairy alighting from a secret glade. Her hair was loose, and the damp strands tangled around her shoulders. She wore a fresh white shirt beneath a flowing calf-length day dress, of dark purple wool. She had twisted a yellow linen sash around her waist, and calf-high boots covered her lower legs.

  Her neck was another matter. From her chin to the valley between her breasts, the sight of her lightly tanned skin excited him. He had tasted every inch of her, and yearned for more. Crossing his fists in front of his throbbing groin, he turned to the two women, but spied Bill heading toward him.

  “Raven means to speak to ye after yer supper. Meet him in the stables.”

  Sharply inhaled breaths from the women made Niall aware that such a meeting would be detrimental to his health.

  Blair passed by him, nodded to the women, and kept heading toward a building, The lasses pulled him with them, and they entered a large dining hall. The long, low building was warm and smelled of roasted meat. A stewpot bubbled on a fire below an opening in the roof. The aroma of potatoes and vegetables was comforting. He was not sure what kind of meat filled the platters, as few animals walked about the village.

  “Venison, sir?” Keegan stood holding a slab of meat on a small kitchen knife.

  He nodded to the lad, and allowed the women to push him onto a bench. He dipped his head to the other crew. Aimee left to join women at another table, Brenda sat beside him. Niall ignored her, and watched as Keegan speared several slabs of the roasted meat, and filled a wooden trencher. “My thanks, lad.”

  “I shall bring ye some crusty bannock, as soon as I serve me captain.” He raced away, stopping long enough to fill another man’s trencher.

  “The lad likes ye,” Brenda said. She settled closer to him, thighs touching on the bench, close enough to share her onion scent. “Ye like bairns?”

  “I saved his life. The captain’s life as well, yet Raven Snoddy seems to disregard both events. I fear he plans to show me some more kindness, once we meet in the stable.”

  Her face paled, and mumbling something, she jumped to her feet, and left. Blair was suddenly beside him.

  “Raven won’t touch you again. You have my word, Balfour.” Blair’s whispered words were for his ears only, which did not bode well. Did she have the power to protect him, or not? If not, leaving was the best answer.

  “Can ye guarantee my meeting with Raven, after this meal, will no’ end with more shredded clothing and bleeding wounds? Perhaps he should bruise the other eye, so I have a matched set. I must confess, though. I like these clothes. If he destroys these, I shall lose my temper.”

  When Blair’s eyes widened, Niall felt he had a chance to gain her as an ally, but he must step carefully. If Raven waited for him in the stable, to mete out more punishment, then Niall must obtain a weapon. If he could take down Raven, he might escape further torture.

  Without another word, Blair walked away, and Niall resumed his meal. With his stomach satisfied by venison, roasted potatoes, and a welcome tankard of honey ale, he helped clear the tables. His work completed, he sat in a corner, downing another tankard of ale. Most of the crew and women had finished their meals, and had returned to wherever they spent their evenings. Footsteps grew closer, echoing in the empty hall. A hand settled on Niall’s shoulder.

  “Raven is waiting for ye in the stable,” Thomas said. Since Thomas had assisted Raven in his earlier punishment, Niall was on his guard, but he was no longer defenseless. When he had helped clear the tables after the meal, he had slipped a small knife into his boot.

  Crossing the common area, they headed toward a large building standing apart from the other cottages. Thomas pulled the barn doors open, and stepped aside. A light glowed at the rear of the building. The moos of a few cows filled the gloom. The carcass of a large stag hung from the rafter, its life’s blood dripping into the sandy earth. The sight was not lost on Niall.

  None would get close enough to string him up, again.

  ***

  Following Thomas and Balfour, Blair kept to the shadows. How dare her men order her prisoner into the stable, the very place Raven had suggested was the best place to flay a man’s skin from his bones? This was where her men hung venison and sheep to drain their blood, before butchering. The thought of Balfour, hanging like a piece of meat, struck her to her core. She would not allow such barbarism to hurt him again.

  Lately, Raven barked orders, and Thomas followed him in everything. Would he step aside if she ordered him to, while she chastised Raven about acting against her wishes? Balfour had saved her life, and she trusted him with that life. She wouldn’t stand by while Raven acted like her despicable dead husband.

  She tiptoed to a vantage point inside a stall, close enough to listen. She’d stuck her gully knife in the sash around her waist, but wished she’d taken the time to change from her dress into breeches.

  Worst case scenario? She might need to use her figure, with her breasts all but spilling from the top, to her advantage. Seeing them might make Raven hesitate long enough, in whatever he planned to do.

  “I dinno’ think ye would come, Balfour,” Raven said. He crossed his arms over his chest, and spread his feet.

  “Ye summoned me, and I obeyed. I assume the captain ordered this…interrogation.”

  “Nay. Yer recent punishment ended prematurely. I wish to show ye what we normally do with prisoners.”

  Niall rubbed his belly. “I met some lovely lasses, this day. I am sorry if I kept ye from yer depravities.”

  Raven smiled an evil smile. “I take me responsibilities to heart. The lasses can wait. Interrogating captives, then stringing them up like slain beasts, comes first.”

  Blair placed a hand over her mouth, so no sound would reveal her location. Raven was talking nonsense, they rarely captured people. They had slain the English marauders, but allowed those that retreated to leave. They’d taken no prisoners.

  “Place yer hands in these bindings, and we shall begin,” Raven ordered. A slight smile lifted the side of his mouth.

  Blair could not see what bindings he was talking about, but she glanced at the stag hanging from a rafter.

  “I doono’ wish to be tied like a beast, without the captain present. Me thinks ye mean to do me harm, and I really like these clothes.”

  Raven squawked, ripped off his own head sash, and threw it to the ground.

  Thomas stepped back, as if in fear of the first mate. As he backed closer to her hiding place, Blair spied the two daggers in his hands.

  “Ye will be bound and gutted like a piece of meat. Then, the Captain will return to my bed.”

  Blair’s rage must have caused a noise. When Thomas turned toward her, she slammed his wrists with the sides of her hands. Both knives hit the ground.

  Raven spotted her, but Balfour was quicker. He raced to her side, and grabbed one of the knives. Clasping his free hand around her empty one, he tugged her the length of the stable.

  Raven howled, and a slap must have landed on Thomas’ face. It echoed in the nearly empty building.

  “Now what? Raven is very angry. He countermanded my orders. I’ve lost control!” Blair cried.

  Niall grunt
ed, pulling her into an alley between two cottages. “I must get off this island, or I shall be dead by dawn. Raven wants ye. He sees me as a threat to yer affections.”

  “That’s not my fault. I told him I didn’t care to…be alone with him any longer. He knew that, still he took it on himself to…” Light from a torch flickered at the end of the alley, and she met his gaze.

  “Ye dinno’ order this interrogation?”

  “Nope. I appreciate what you’ve done for me, and my son. I figured you’d tell me what I need to know, when you’re ready.”

  “Then I suggest we escape this island, and find sanctuary on the mainland. I doono’ think Raven will listen to ye any longer.”

  She nodded. “Holy Moses! I can’t leave Keegan.”

  “Do ye have a way out of here? If we leave, I promise to keep ye both safe.”

  She nodded, too numb to talk.

  “Blair. Look at me.” He cupped her chin, and she gazed up at his face. Torchlight flickered in his one emerald-green eye. How could she have compared it to dull moss?

  “Where is the lad?”

  “He went to feed a lamb we found wandering the valley. We settled it in a small hut, near the storage cave.”

  “Do ye have a small boat with a sail?”

  She nodded. “I also have a secret path to where it’s beached.”

  Balfour smiled, and his eye glittered. He was too handsome for words, and the eye patch gave him a look of mystery. A pirate’s persona.

  “I thought your eye injury had improved?”

  “Nay. ‘Tis still a hindrance, and I want to protect it, even though the cool water of the falls did me a world of good.”

  Her body stirred at the mention of the way he’d pleasured her, beneath the falls. If only they could return and continue their lovemaking, and forget their dire situation. Her womb clenched, and her limbs softened, until he whispered, louder.

  “Gather anything we need to survive.”

  Silence.

  Shaking her head to clear the memories, she was so engrossed in his glittering good eye, she didn’t answer.

  “Lass? I asked ye if yer ready? Keep to the shadows and meet me at the hut. I will get the lad. Do ye have gold?”

  “Why?” Was he only interested in her gold? What about their kisses? Sharing their bodies?

  “We need to buy supplies, once we reach the mainland. I have nothing. All was lost during my tumble into the sea.”

  She stroked his arm, his billowing linen shirt soft beneath her fingers, yet his muscles tensed. “Will you ever share exactly what happened?”

  “Aye, but let us save our necks, first.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Shadows hid Niall and Blair, but could not hide the fear on her face. When her expression hardened, replaced with a strong set to her pretty chin, her strength made him want to kiss her senseless.

  ‘Tis no’ the time.

  “Yes, let’s escape with our necks intact.” She stroked his forearm and, if she followed his directions, was off to gather her necessities, and gold. As she disappeared into the deeper shadows of the village, Niall listened for sounds of other footsteps, then headed for the small hut, praying he would find Keegan. The lad was small, but a noisy handful. If he were not trapped on an unknown island, he could have escaped, alone.

  Did he want to leave Blair MacIan? She was a leader, but Raven would bring her down easily, then either rape her, or kill her. She would never command her ship again, but she had the knowledge, and the means, to hasten their escape.

  Slipping inside the hut, light from a lantern lit an area near several miniature stalls. Murmurs rose, and he recognized the lad’s voice. Gazing into a stall, he listened as Keegan spoke to a tiny white lamb. Niall must have made a noise, because Keegan jumped up, and rushed through the stall door.

  “Balfour! What--”

  Niall clamped a hand over Keegan’s mouth, and shuffled him toward the hut’s main door. The boy struggled, while Niall listened, then whispered, “Doono’ say a word. I have come to take ye to yer mother. Raven means her harm, and we must leave this place. Do ye understand?”

  The lad nodded, and Niall removed his hand. The child trembled, then wrapped his tiny arm around Niall’s waist.

  “We shall wait behind this building for yer mother.”

  “This way. ‘Tis my secret door.” Keegan untangled his body from him, and headed toward the rear of the hut.

  Niall slipped the small knife into his boot, and tightened his grip on the dagger he had taken from Thomas. Keegan shoved a few bales of hay to the side, and scrambled through a dark hole at the base of the wall. Niall bent low, shoved his weapon through the opening, then crawled through, placing his trust in the lad. Keegan slipped past him, and pulled the hay bale back into place.

  Crouched outside the dark rear of the hut, they waited. Footsteps brought his dagger up, as a dark-hooded shape appeared. When he recognized the shadowy profile as Blair’s, he relaxed. She carried two dark sacks in each hand, and strode purposely toward their hiding spot.

  “We are here,” Niall whispered.

  “Keegan?”

  “I am here, Captain.”

  “Don’t call me that. I am no longer the captain of The Black Thistle.”

  Her voice cracked with sorrow, and Niall understood she regretted leaving this life behind. Why would fate force her into his control like this? What should he do with her once they reached the mainland? How would she react when his true identity was revealed?

  “Follow me,” she ordered, dropping a heavy sack at his feet.

  He grabbed it. While the lad followed his mother, he brought up the rear. The trail approached a cleft in the valley’s eastern wall. Squeezing himself, his weapon, and the heavy sack through the narrow passage was difficult, but he managed. As the rock surrounded them, and shadows turned their passage black as pitch, he prayed they would safely escape the island before Raven and his crew knew they were missing.

  They reached the end, where the rocky passage gave way to thick, leafy vegetation. When a salty breeze chilled his face, Niall relaxed. The odd warmth of the valley was behind them, while the sea boomed ahead of them, lit only by moonlight. The vegetation gave way to a rocky beach, similar to where The Black Thistle crew had disembarked.

  The outline of a small single-mast boat rested near the beach. Assuming this was their destination, he prayed that its furled sail, tied down on its mast’s single yardarm, was sturdy enough to make it to the mainland. Once they found a familiar coastline, they might survive.

  Blair tossed her sack into the boat, while Keegan clambered up and over the side. Stripping off her heavy cloak, she tossed it to her son. She hiked her skirt up and over her knees, then grabbed the hem between her legs. She pulled the hem forward, then up to her waist. Shoving it inside her belt, which bared her boots and knees to view, she returned to help with Niall’s burden. Startled by her exposed flesh, Niall slid to a stop.

  Blair glanced at him. “Come on! Push!”

  Seeing the moonlight paint her dark red curls with a silver halo, Niall regained his wits. He tossed his heavy sack onto the deck, and let his dagger fall. It clanged as it hit the wooden decking, making him glance at the tree line.

  No one appeared, so Niall shoved against the hull, and the small craft slipped into the surf. He jumped into the boat, and helped Blair climb in. Waves thundered nearby, and the memory of Blair’s crushed skiff made him set the oars into motion. Thrusting them into the turbulent sea, they rode over the waves, until the boat entered calmer water. Keegan unfurled the sail, and Blair worked the rudder.

  “What can I do?” Niall asked, after pulling in the oars, feeling slightly useless.

  “Take over when I tire. Right now, my adrenaline is making my blood race!”

  “Adrenel-what?”

  “Never mind. No time to explain. We have to get away, in case we’re followed.” She turned to her son. “Keegan, hide under that canvas and get some sleep.”

 
Keegan nodded, then gazed up at her. “What happened? Why do we no’ take The Black Thistle?”

  She sighed.

  How much of their problem would she share with the lad? Though small, Keegan was a smart lad. He trusted his mother. Niall did, as well.

  “Raven has mutinied against me. He tried to kill Balfour.”

  “Nay, I canno’ believe that.”

  “He tried to slay yer mother, as well, lad,” Niall added, “so ‘twas time to go.”

  The lad’s eyes widened, and he swallowed hard, but did not say another word. He had not burst into tears, even though they had left behind everything, and everyone, he knew. Once Keegan was safely secured beneath the tented canvas, Niall sat beside Blair, with the rudder between them.

  “He is a brave lad. Just like his mother.”

  She smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes. “Yes, but he’s a handful. I could not have left without him.”

  “Understandable, Blair.”

  She visibly bristled, then her shoulders sagged. “Right. I am no longer the captain of a Scottish pirate ship. Now, I’m nothing.”

  “Nay, lass. Ye be more than a title. Yer a mother, a lover, and I wish to know more.”

  She smiled sheepishly. When her cheeks darkened beneath the moonlight, she cupped his cheek. “You know more about me, than most men.”

  “Aye, we have shared our bodies, yet I yearn to learn more about the woman.”

  She kissed his cheek, then returned her attention to the rudder. The night was filled with the sound of nearby breakers, and the sail, snapping in the breeze. When it caught the wind, and the craft flew across the sea, one of her hands slid from the rudder to his knee.

  Niall did his best to not let her feel how stiff his body became beneath her touch. Although the breeze was chilly, her fingers were warm. When her teeth chattered, his concern overtook his desire to lay her on the deck and thrust inside her. “Yer shivering, lass. Where be yer cloak?”

  “Under the canvas, with Keegan. I’ll be fine.”

  Niall stood, climbed over the rudder arm, and sat beside her. With thighs touching, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and Blair melted into his side. When she stopped shivering, he knew their shared warmth would soothe them through the night.

 

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