Heir To The Sea

by Danelle Harmon

  “Didn’t stop your father from finding someone who loved it as much as he did, lad.”

  Kieran bent his forehead to one hand. “You have an argument for everything.”

  “And you seem t’ have one against everything. Think about it. Miss McCormack’s a sailor. She can handle a ship, climb a mast, and fire a pistol all without flinching. She’s quite perfect for ye, that lass. Besides, ye need the shaking up.”

  “Shaking up? I need time to think. To slow things down. To come to terms with Mother and Dadai’s loss before I—”

  “Ye’re yer own worst enemy, lad. Stop feeling like ye have to pay some price or somethin’ before ye can be allowed happiness. D’ye actually think they’d want ye to do that? Go ask her for a stroll around deck. Invite her down here for a meal with the captain. Kiss her again ’til she can’t stand up straight. God almighty, I wish ye had half the confidence with the lassies as you do going up against a pirate who wanted nothing more than to slit your throat and roast your heart on a spit.”

  “I’m not like Connor.” Kieran set his coffee down. “He always made it look so easy. It isn’t, for me.”

  “Connor has his strengths and you have yers. Ye’re wise, thoughtful, careful and observant. Ye’re creative, like yer da. Ye can draw pictures, play music, write a sonnet if ye’ve a mind to.”

  Kieran looked bleakly out the windows.

  “Ye feel things deeper, harder than most, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Don’t ye go comparing yourself to yer brother, now. The two of ye are chalk and cheese.”

  “Well, I bet that Dadai also found it difficult to jump in with both feet, to throw all caution to the wind in matters of the heart.”

  Liam snorted. “Yer da was a bit of a rogue and more than confident around the lassies—until he met yer mother. Then, he was as flummoxed and confused as I’d ever seen him. Never knew what hit him.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Kieran stared at his half-finished coffee, not really seeing it. “I wish I’d asked him more about such matters,” he said. “We talked about so many things, but never really got to that. There is so much about him that I’ll never know, now.”

  Liam’s eyes grew solemn. “He was proud of you, Kieran.”

  “Yes, well, I never gave him much reason to worry, did I?”

  “Considering what yer two siblings put him and yer mother through, the lack of trouble ye gave them was not only cause for relief, but a blessing.” Liam rose, picked up the tray and laid a huge hand on his shoulder. “We’ll be in Baltimore in a few short days. Don’t waste them, lad. If ye let that girl walk away when we get there, ye’ll be regretting it for the rest of yer life.”

  Liam headed for the door. He stopped as he passed Rosalie’s open trunk, and for a long moment he stood there, puzzled and unmoving. He was staring at the old black hat.

  “What is it?” Kieran asked irritably.

  Liam just shook his head as if to suddenly clear it. “Nothing,” he said. “Impossible. Just the imaginings of an old man.”

  Kieran eyed him askance but Liam went out, leaving Kieran to his own thoughts.

  We’ll be in Baltimore in a few short days. Don’t waste them, lad.

  He glanced at the door through which his old friend had passed.

  “Thank you, Liam,” he said quietly to himself. “I’ll keep that advice in mind.”

  Chapter 18

  “Ease out the main a little more,” Kieran ordered as Rum Cay slid past well off Sandpiper’s larboard beam in the late afternoon sun. A squall had passed earlier, and he’d sent down the topsails and put a reef in the main when it had appeared as a dark cloud on the eastern horizon. Now the sun was back out, the sky clear and the wind brisk and fresh over the sloop’s starboard quarter. Perfect conditions to fly everything they had, something he’d be reluctant to do once darkness fell and obscured any more weather that might threaten them during the night.

  Might as well not waste the chance to put some miles behind them.

  “Ease the main!” his order was repeated.

  Moments later, the sloop’s great mainsail was let out and trimmed and the motion of the swells beneath her leveled out as she raced them with the wind up her skirts. Kieran peered aloft, studying the pennant, the trim of the mainsail.

  “Get the topsails back on her,” he called.

  “Topmen aloft!”

  He plucked a telescope from the rack and put it to his eye, scanning the horizon. Though these were British waters, they were no longer under any sort of protection, discreet as it might be, from Sir Graham back on Barbados. The privateer in him looked for British threats as well as potential prizes, but no, he didn’t have the crew. He didn’t even have enough men to sail a prize or fight the guns.

  Now the jib-boom pointed the way north-northwest. Cat Island… Eleuthera… Abaco.

  We’ll be in Baltimore in a few short days. Don’t waste them, lad.

  He spied Miss McCormack well forward with her brother, pointing down at the dolphins racing their bow wake. Her laughter drifted aft and Kieran’s mouth went dry. She had foregone gowns and was wearing seaman’s garb—striped trousers, a shirt and waistcoat, a floppy hat to protect her face from the sun beneath which her thick orange hair streamed wild and free. A knife and marlinespike hung from a belt. She’d cinched it tight and it only emphasized the nip of her waist, the generous flare of her hips, and made him burn with wanting.

  She happened to glance back and their eyes met.

  He gave the tiller over to one of the McKays and headed forward.

  Liam, polishing his fiddle with a bit of cloth and humming softly to himself, looked up and grinned as Kieran passed. Joel stood flaking a line a few feet away, using his one good arm and every so often taking a swig of rum from a bottle beside him.

  Miss McCormack began to smile, her eyes dancing, as he approached.

  “Good evening, Miss McCormack.”

  “Good evening, Captain.”

  Stephen moved closer to his sister, ever the faithful guard dog.

  “Captain Merrick,” he said tersely.

  “Captain McCormack.” Kieran inclined his head. “It’s hot out here. Perhaps you might fetch your sister something to drink?”

  “Yes, and do take your time while you’re at it,” she said saucily. “I’m sure Captain Merrick and I won’t indulge in anything improper out here in full daylight in front of the entire crew.”

  He scowled “You are impossible, Rosalie.”

  “And so are you. But really, your standing guard over me is becoming tedious.”

  “What do you want? Lemonade?”

  “Rum, please.”

  He looked at Kieran, who smiled and shrugged. “None for me, thanks.”

  Stephen gave them a last warning glance, turned, and headed for the hatch. Rosalie burst out laughing. The sound was infectious, the sparkle in her eyes captivating. Kieran couldn’t help but grin.

  “Thank heavens I have only one brother,” she said, subtly moving closer to him. He reached out and took her hand as they both stood in the bows, watching the dolphins racing the curling wake beneath them. “He has become intolerable.”

  “He’s only doing what any brother ought.”

  “Yes, but he appears at the worst times, does he not? As he did last night.”

  “And now you’re the one thinking of that kiss.”

  “Which one? The first kiss, or the second?”

  He grinned. “The third.”

  “The—”

  He pulled her unresistingly toward him, wrapped his hand in her hair, and kissed her, hard and fast and without apology. The ship hit a swell, bumping their mouths together, flinging spray over their faces and hair. Rosalie came up laughing. Kieran reached up to thumb salt water off her cheek just as Stephen, his scowl all the deeper, reappeared with a tankard in his hand.

  He passed it to his sister. “For Christ’s sake, Merrick—”

  “Stephen, why d
on’t you go and relieve Danny at the tiller?” Rosalie said impatiently. “You are quite the pest when you’re being overprotective.”

  “But—”

  “Go.” She raised the tankard to indicate the helm far aft, and with a look of bleak annoyance, he stalked off.

  She turned to Kieran, her eyes laughing and lively. “The best thing about little brothers is that you can still order them around,” she said, taking a swig of rum. “And it’s as fun now as it was when I was ten.” She offered him the tankard. “Would you like a drink, Captain?”

  “No, ’twill make me sick.”

  “An interesting man you are, Captain Merrick.”

  He glanced up at the pennant so far above, checking the wind. “I’m about as interesting as laundry left out on the line to dry.”

  She made a scoffing noise and tipped the tankard to her mouth once more, regarding him thoughtfully from over the rim. “Funny, isn’t it, how we see ourselves so differently, and often in a much less flattering light, than those around us. But I suppose I can’t chastise you when I’m guilty of doing the same thing.”

  “Are you?”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not something I ever stopped and thought about all that much. Some people are innately fascinating, others are not. I am not, and my life is rather boring. Not like yours must be, I imagine.”

  “How do you imagine my life to be?”

  “Full. Exciting. Lots of friends, dances and social events and a whirlwind of activity.”

  She laughed in a full-throated way and took another drink.

  Her humor was infectious, and he couldn’t help the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. “What, no fancy balls to go to, no parties to host, no stable of love-struck swains waiting for you back in Baltimore?”

  She snorted in an unladylike way. “No, just shoes and jewelry to sell and a past mistake that needs addressing.”

  “Am I supposed to ask what sort of past mistake you’re referring to?”

  “It was a love affair gone bad. A betrothal, actually. I broke it off, and the resultant scandal was the reason Father sent me out with Stephen on this scheme to collect shoes, scarves and jewelry from the islanders to try and build a market for them back home. He and Mother wanted me out of town for a while, and I was all too happy to go.”

  “I see.” For some reason, this revelation bothered him. “Did you love him?”

  “In a naive and blind sort of way, yes. He was charming. Handsome. We were supposed to marry at the end of the year. But you don’t go and marry a man who says cruel and disrespectful things about you to his friends when he doesn’t know you’re within hearing distance.”

  “What did he say?” Kieran was frowning.

  “It doesn’t matter what he said. It hurt, and I ended it.”

  “His loss, then.”

  “And my gain. I have no regrets. None whatsoever.”

  They stood together, and the sloop nosed into another swell, sending spray washing over them yet again. Rosalie tilted her head back to inhale deeply of the fresh salt air. “But now you’re wondering what he said, and you’ll chew on that like a dog with a bone unless I tell you, won’t you?”

  He couldn’t help his slow smile. “Guilty, Miss McCormack.”

  “What he said was—and I don’t want your pity, Captain, or I will walk away and leave you here to yourself—that he was ‘only marrying that fat sow for her money.’ As you can imagine, my feelings for him cooled after that, and—”

  “You’re not fat,” he said with sudden harshness.

  “I am a good deal fatter than I should be, but I confess to a love of sweets and I’m not going to apologize for it.”

  “You are not fat. I find you profoundly beautiful, both inside and out. If your brother wasn’t back there watching us, I’d kiss you again just to prove to you how deeply you affect me.”

  “Then in that case, Captain, I wish you’d send him below instead of merely aft.” She cocked her head and looked at him, studying him. “And what about you?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Are you attached?”

  He looked at the distant horizon. “I have nobody.”

  “That’s hard to believe.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “No pretty ladies back in Newburyport counting the days until you get back?”

  “None.”

  “No sweetheart wearing your miniature around her neck?”

  He snorted and couldn’t help the corners of his mouth from twitching against her light teasing.

  “No gaggle of girls falling all over you when you return to port?”

  His faint smile became a helpless grin. “None that I know of.”

  “And why not, Captain Merrick?”

  He shrugged. “As I told you, I’m quiet.” And then, because she was looking at him a little too closely and that felt rather intrusive, he hastily added, “My older brother Connor was the one that all the ladies flocked to. He’s cocky, confident, full of swagger. Women like that.”

  “Some women.”

  He made a dismissive noise and looked down at the dolphins leaping just below.

  “Others,” she added, “find those traits quite obnoxious.” She leaned on her elbows and followed his gaze to the breaking wake, the dolphins racing the sloop like silver bullets. “And your sister, Maeve? The one married to Admiral Sir Graham Falconer? What is she like?”

  “Fiery. Forceful. Tempestuous. She’s got a hard edge to her. Always did.”

  “And then there’s you.”

  He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I was never one to attract or demand much attention.”

  “The quiet types usually aren’t.” She smiled gently, as though she’d sensed his discomfort at being so closely examined and was backing off to give him space. “But that doesn’t mean they’re boring. Sometimes you just have to look a little harder to find the deep and beautiful parts of them that they keep guarded so carefully.”

  Kieran made a scoffing noise and looked away.

  “You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”

  “Not when there are far more interesting topics of conversation.”

  “Name one.”

  “You.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “If I can have permission to call you by your Christian name.”

  She laughed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “I take my time with things, I’m afraid.”

  “Yes, Captain Merrick, you do, and that’s not a bad thing. But sometimes a person can think too much and for too long, and then an opportunity is lost. Yes, you may call me Rosalie, but only under the condition I may reciprocate.” She grinned. “Keer-in.”

  This time it was his turn to laugh. He couldn’t help it.

  “And since Stephen is now heading back this way and our time alone must come to an end, I must ask you, Kieran—have you ever been to Baltimore?”

  “Yes,” he said, feeling himself all but drowning in her beauty, her bold and fearless spirit. “Several times.”

  “Do you think you can get us past the British blockade?”

  Her eyes sparkled with merry challenge and despite himself, he grinned. “I believe that’s a task well within my capabilities, ma’am.”

  “Good,” she said, her eyes dancing. “Because I’m counting on you to do just that.”

  Chapter 19

  Journal of Captain Kieran Merrick, 24 May, 1814

  The coast of Virginia is just visible far off the larboard beam. We will be standing for the Chesapeake soon and then, Baltimore. Wind has freshened and ’Piper is flying, making eleven knots with a strong following sea. I have enjoyed Miss McCormack’s company these past few days and intend to make my intentions known to her father when I meet him.

  It was hard to find time to be alone with Kieran on a small ship with one’s brother constantly about.

  Several stolen kisses, furtively shared gl
ances, here and there a brush of a hand, a touch on a shoulder, a secretive smile. Community meals as the small crew sat on deck every evening, Kieran always beside her, her body keenly aware of his and wanting to join itself to it in ways that made her fiercely ashamed as well as defiantly excited.

  And Stephen, maddeningly present.

  Always.

  But her brother couldn’t stop her from reliving the tender moments they’d shared back in the cave. He couldn’t stop her from watching the New England captain at the helm, the tiller in one hand while he leaned over the binnacle and studied a chart, every so often glancing aloft to check the draw of a sail or the direction of the wind or to call for a change in sail plan or trim, giving her a slow, private smile when he’d catch her watching him. He couldn’t stop her from itching to run her fingers through his hair, curling in the damp salt air and spray, blowing across his cheek, flopping over his forehead before he’d impatiently sweep it back and slap a hat down atop it to keep it in place.

  Her admiration for him grew. He was not a harsh and autocratic master. She noted how he’d quietly observe a man working aloft, a sailor retching over the rail when the seas got rough, Joel trying to ease the pain in his shoulder when he thought his captain couldn’t see him behind the mast. None of them with the exception of old Liam Doherty—and herself—knew that he noticed everything that went on aboard his command, saying little, discerning much, and when he did feel the need to correct a mistake, give direction, or advise caution in a dangerous situation, he always did it in a quiet and unassuming way that brought no shame to the subject of his attention.

  It was impossible not to admire him.

  Impossible not to like him.

  Impossible, really, not to fall head over heels in love with him.

  Love? The very idea of it, especially after her experience with James, sobered her.

  It was easy to be full of sass and smiles around Kieran. After all, he brought out a side of her that felt pretty, that felt confident, that felt good and free and alive. But she couldn’t get it out of her head that she’d felt this way before, couldn’t ignore the shame that went with it, and as they grew closer to home, she found herself growing more and more conflicted.