The Wicked Ways of Alexander Kidd (The MacGregors: Highland Heirs)

by Paula Quinn

  She paced before the door again, trying so hard to stay put. She didn’t want to irritate him by disobeying his orders yet again but she was aboard a pirate ship and the pirates were about to do what they did best. She wanted to be part of the action, not hidden from it. She paced, then sat down in a chair then paced some more. In the end, she asked herself what good was staying if she missed the adventure?

  She stepped outside and the wind caught her hair and whipped it across her face. She cleared her strands and looked up at the thick, ominous clouds rolling across the vast sky and blocking out the morning sun. It made her dizzy and she looked away, toward the thunderous sea instead. Waves crashed against the hull, rocking the ship and her belly. How could anyone fight in these conditions? Without balance and the solid earth beneath their feet?

  She heard shouting and watched the barefoot, drenched crewmen climbing the ratlines up the masts and maneuvering the running rigging to the sails.

  Where was Kyle? What if he fought? Visibility was poor, balance was worse. How would he get onto the other ship if the pirates took it? Her cousin wouldn’t stand idly by if there was a fight. No MacGregor would. Now that they were staying with the pirates, Kyle would lend his skills to any service required.

  Heaven help her, she still couldn’t believe it. Just like that they were staying. Her heart raced, recalling her threats to seduce their host. She would have laughed at the notion of her seducing anyone if she didn’t fear her words would come back to haunt her. She had no idea how long the trip would be, but she certainly couldn’t remain in the captain’s cabin the entire time.

  The sound of men’s voices spun her around. She looked at the small group staring back at her. She wished she hadn’t given the captain back his pistol.

  “She sure is fair,” one of them sneered. “Worth hangin’ by yar ankles if ya ask me.”

  Another one elbowed him in the ribs. Trina remembered him from earlier, Mr. Pierce had called him Robbie. “Leave her alone. She’d cut out yar heart with yar own cutlass.” He pushed the others on their way and paused before he passed her. “Thank ya fer not tellin’ the cap’n about what Nicky said.”

  She nodded and smiled, then asked him if he’d seen Kyle.

  “Check the helm. I saw him talkin’ to Mr. Pierce a little while ago.”

  Trina thanked him and looked toward the stern. If these pirates were truly taking another ship, the helm was the place to be. Kyle knew that and was likely up there. With her hair snapping against her face from the wind, she made her way to the highest point of the wondrous brig, to the helm.

  She didn’t find her cousin, but the captain was there, looking like some fabled myth come to life, the wheel in his left hand, his chest to the storm. He looked through a spyglass and shouted into the wind, “Bearing port two meters!”

  The shout rang out from stern to stem, one voice after the other until everyone heard.

  The captain steered steadily while waves rose up over the ship like phantom dragons come to swallow them whole. Mr. Pierce appeared as if out of the wind and sea spray. He took her arm and set her close to the captain’s side, then closed her fingers around a rope he pulled from somewhere behind her.

  “Hold on,” he warned her before stepping away as the waves crashed over the bow, splashing them in the rear.

  With nowhere else to look after Pierce left, she set her eyes on the captain once again. “Are ye mad to do this in a storm?”

  He grinned at her and winked. “Don’t be afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid,” she told him, expecting his laughter.

  “Good.” He didn’t laugh, but his smile softened just enough to be indulgent. “It pleases me that ya trust me.”

  He was mad. She might have told him so if he didn’t begin shouting orders. “Raise the black flag!”

  They were going to plunder the merchant ship, which, Trina was stunned to discover, was much closer to them than she thought. The captain had chased it, and now he was about to catch it.

  Was she dreaming? Was this truly about to happen with her in the midst of it all? Her blood scored her veins and blasted through her heart like thunderbolts. Bracing her legs, she watched the merchant ship grow closer.

  “Fire cannon!” the captain’s order echoed forth.

  “Cover yar ears, beauty,” he said more quietly to her.

  She did as he gently commanded and let go of the rope just as the bow lifted on a massive swell. Cannon fire roared across the heavens, and Trina’s descent overboard was halted by an arm as hard as steel around her.

  Alex pulled her in close, as he had the last time they stood at the helm. His chest pressed to her back, his arms covering her down to their hands clutching the wheel. All at once, Trina felt like she’d arrived at the place she’d been longing for her whole life. At the helm of a ship being tossed about in a raging ocean, yet held steady by a silken steel embrace.

  “I almost lost ya there, lass.”

  There was something about the way he spoke against her ear. His tone was flippant save for the deep fissure of something more meaningful. She had to keep herself from shaking in his arms, even though it would have been understandable after almost going overboard.

  “Yer cannons missed,” she said, keeping her mind off him and what almost just happened.

  He smiled against her temple. “Nay, ’twas only a warnin’. We aren’t all the blood-thirsty savages the noble folks would have ya believe. We give them a choice to raise their white flag.”

  She smiled at his logic. She wasn’t here to judge him. She was here to live. And now, with the wind snapping at her hair and a warrior breathing down her neck and heating her in places where she never knew its power until now, she felt more alive than ever before.

  He let go of her and stepped back, leaving her to steer on her own. She almost let go, but his voice soothed her.

  “Feel the force of it in yar hands, Caitrina.” He took hold of her hair and cleared it away from her face. “Like a bow,” he whispered against her ear while he wrapped one of his sashes around her forehead and tied its ends into a knot on the side of her face, “as ya pull back on its line.”

  With her hair free from blocking her vision, she felt a bit more confident. They were gaining speed. They were almost upon the merchant ship.

  “Fire muskets!”

  Shots rang out and continued even as the captain ordered more cannon fire. Trina’s hands shook as they gripped the wheel. This was real. The ship vibrated from the power of the deafening cannons. The power of the beast beneath her was too much.

  Sensing her trepidation, the captain took the helm back and maneuvered his ship between the wind and his prey. “Fun’s over, beauty.” His voice covered her like a warm summer mist. “Go belowdecks. I would have ya safe.”

  “Would ye?” She turned to look up at him and smiled.

  “Aye, I don’t want yar savage kin comin’ after me.”

  He didn’t give a rat’s arse about anyone coming after him. She laughed and nodded and turned to step into Mr. Pierce’s waiting hands.

  “Hurry back,” the captain ordered his quartermaster. “I need ya to steer.”

  On the way back to the cabin, Trina looked up at Mr. Pierce’s lightning-lit eyes and wondered where she stood with him. He did his best to keep her safe because the captain had ordered him to. He was as loyal as a well-loved dog… She blinked at him as a thought occurred to her. “D’ye have a brother in the Royal Army called David?”

  “What?”

  “Captain David Pierce?” she asked him, remembering the handsome captain who had helped her cousin Edmund and Amelia, his love, escape the Duke of Queensberry. “He came to Camlochlin several months ago to take one of Grendel’s pups—”

  “If I had a brother in the Royal anything”—the quartermaster curved the path of her thoughts—“I would cut his throat while he slept.”

  Trina forced a smile even though he reminded her constantly that she didn’t like him. “My error. ’Twas
silly of me to think that just because yer names were the same, ye were related. I am a result of a village, not a city.”

  She was relieved to see his misgivings about her vanish on the gale.

  Continuing on their way, she heard the men begin to scream war cries and death threats while flailing and banging weapons against the gunwales of the ship. Simon the musician began to play a fiddle. The air snapped with anticipation. She didn’t want to hide.

  “Yar cousin awaits ya in the cabin,” Pierce said, opening the door for her. “Ya’re lucky I can’t lock ya both in from the outside. I wouldn’t see ya hurt.”

  Aye, Trina was thankful for that. She hated being locked up anywhere.

  He waited until she entered and then left her, hurrying off to do the captain’s bidding. Battle was the only time a captain had full authority, and every man on Poseidon’s Adventure wanted it that way.

  She stepped into her cousin on her way in and then out of the cabin and back on deck. “We’re staying, Kyle.”

  “Colors hoisted!” Alex’s voice boomed across the deck to his men. “Board with quarter!”

  “Our faithers, Trina,” Kyle warned, “our kin will come after him.”

  “’Tis only until Portugal,” she told him, knowing he was right. “We’ll be home before our kin stock their boats fer their journey. Let us not think on it now.”

  The merchant ship had surrendered. There would be no fighting. She was glad, and apparently the only one on the ship who was. The crew’s moans and groans were almost as loud as the canon fire. Their disappointment didn’t last long, though. If they couldn’t fight, at least they could loot.

  She watched in awe while the crewmen swung through the air on rigging and leaped onto their prey’s deck. The merchant ship was close enough for Trina to see its crew. The men looked frightened. She looked for Alex but didn’t see him.

  “Something’s not right.” Kyle moved away from her and squinted his eyes on the surrendering crew. “There’s something…” He thought about it for a moment, then said, “Off about their fear.”

  Trina watched her cousin study what expressions he could make out on the crew. Kyle was a master at reading people, a skill taught to him and inherited from his father. She made a mental note to speak with him about Mr. Pierce.

  “Och, hell,” he cursed quietly, coming to an obviously troubling conclusion. “Captain!” he suddenly shouted as the captain came into their view, rope in hand, ready to fly.

  He stopped and waited while Kyle ran to him. They shared words. The captain’s expression grew darker and more menacing. What was Kyle telling him? Trina couldn’t take the curiosity and had to stop herself from running over there to hear.

  Soon, though, her curiosity would be satisfied. She watched Kyle hurry back to her, and the captain launch himself over the side, his foot wrapped securely enough around the rope to hold him up, using one hand while his other unleashed his cutlass. He cut through two men before any of the others realized what had happened.

  The merchant ship had surrendered. Why was Alex killing their crew?

  He shouted something to his men, but his voice blended with the wind—and Kyle’s as her cousin reached her.

  “Get inside the cabin and lock yerself inside!” he ordered.

  “What? Why?” Even as she spoke, her eyes moved to the scene over Kyle’s shoulder, a short distance away. Their victims multiplied by at least fifty men, each wielding swords, some loading pistols. Those were the ones Alex cut down first.

  “’Tis a trap, Trina. Get inside!” Kyle pointed to the captain’s quarters one last time, then he turned and ran, ready to lend his sword.

  Her foot moved to follow him. She wanted to lend her skill as well. There were too many against the pirates. She searched the merchant ship’s deck for Alex. She didn’t see him again. If he was killed, who were these men who’d set a trap to catch him? What would they do to a woman?

  She wasn’t going to sit around waiting to find out. Her bow was in the captain’s cabin. She kicked off her boots and ran to find it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  For at least a quarter of an hour the fight between ships wore on. Most of it, to Trina’s relief, took place on the other ship. A few times, though, men from the opposing side came aboard.

  Kyle wielded his sword alongside Mr. Pierce and some of the other men. Trina knew that while he practiced daily, Kyle had never actually killed anyone before. He was killing them now, though. He had no choice if he wanted to live. She had no time to retch or panic at the carnage and the danger around her. These men, privateers hired by the Royal Army as Robbie had called them, wouldn’t kill her if they won. Her fate would be worse than a quick death. Suddenly the full impact of what was happening truly hit her. This was what it felt like to have to fight and pray for your life. Though it turned her blood cold in her veins, she had an arrow with bows and she knew how to use them. She took out a few, fearing she would be hanged for killing the queen’s men, but when the next opportunity presented itself, she let her arrow fly. She didn’t miss. She never did.

  In between shots she searched the decks for the captain. As the number fell, she spotted him on the other ship and smiled, pleased that he still lived.

  She didn’t see the four men creeping up behind her but the instant arms came around her, she reacted and drove her heel into her attacker’s foot. It wasn’t enough to stop him or the rest from grabbing at her hair, her wrists, her skirts. She gouged at the closest captor’s eyes and kneed another hard in the groin. One of them, a man with pale yellow hair and ice-colored eyes, hauled back his arm and backhanded her in the face.

  Everything faded to black for a moment, and then another. Trina shook her head to hold on to consciousness. She wasn’t going to let this lowborn son of a tavern whore knock her around.

  He pushed her back against the rail and bent her over it, wedging himself between her legs. He groped for her skirts. Was this madman going to attempt to rape her here and now? Her heart pumped furiously in her chest. She fought a battle to keep from letting terror have its way.

  She felt the hard hilt of his dagger digging into her hip and slipped her hand beneath his belt to set it free. He realized what she’d done and closed his fingers around her throat. She rammed the dagger deep into his belly. Stepping away from him as his hand and everything else went limp, she gave him room to double over, then grabbed a handful of his flaxen hair.

  Lifting his head, she swiped his dagger across his throat and let him drop to the floor. She turned to the next man closest to her and came face-to-face with the barrel of his pistol.

  Her family in Camlochlin raided her thoughts. She hoped they knew she loved them. She hoped Kyle lived through this day… and Alex. Nae, damn it, she didn’t want to die. But… at least she died in an adventure. She also wouldn’t close her eyes. If death was coming to her, she wouldn’t be a coward about it.

  Because her eyes were open, she saw Alex coming on the air like an angel of death, poised to kill with his rapier ready. If she had closed her eyes, she would have missed the single driven purpose in his course. He came at her from behind the gun-toting thug and swung, severing the man’s head cleanly from his shoulders. Now Trina did look away, unprepared for such brutality directly in front of her.

  Landing both boots on deck, the captain released his rope and brought a swift end to the two men remaining before they had time to do anything. He saved her in seconds. Gustaaf was correct. She doubted anyone could ever beat Alex in a fight.

  When it was over and the four men lay scattered around her, she shook from the violence of the day. He came near her, his hands reaching for her as if to take her in his arms. His eye caught the blond head of the man who struck her and he turned to the man’s fallen body instead. He muttered something that sounded like “Ya lily-livered scabby-arsed cockroach. Ya’re not fit fer Fiddlers Green.” He bent down and hoisted the dead man over his shoulder and then without another word walked to the rail and flung the bod
y overboard. When he returned to her, she thought he might admonish her for disobeying him yet again, but he closed her in his arms and said softly against her ear while she shook, “We have their captain. The fight is over. Sam will do the rest now. Ya’re safe now. Ya’re safe. Come, let’s retire to me cabin.” He smiled and Trina nodded, then followed.

  “Kyle.” She stopped and looked up at him. She needed to make sure her cousin was all right, and that he stayed that way.

  The captain sighed but thankfully he indulged her and called out over his shoulder, “Kyle! Come with us.”

  Trina turned to see her cousin approaching and smiled at him, proud to see him alive and looking so well after his first real battle. When he reached them, she looked him over for any injuries, then grinned at him. “Ye’re well.”

  Kyle nodded and took her hand. “Never better. And ye? Were ye hurt?” After she shook her head and smiled at him, he turned to Alex. “Thank ye. I’m in yer debt fer saving her.”

  The captain flicked a light smile to Trina and made her light-headed. “’Tis bad luck fer a woman to die on a ship.”

  He couldn’t rile her. Not now. She liked to think that she was strong and well skilled, able to take care of herself. The MacGregors and the Grants did not raise cowards. And yet she couldn’t save herself from a steal ball to the head. He’d saved her and she wasn’t too proud to admit it, and to want to thank him for it. She didn’t care why he did it. Only that he did. She was in his debt.

  She wasn’t pleased about it, but if not for him, she’d be dead.

  They entered the cabin and sat around the captain’s table while he explained to them who the men were and what he intended to do with them. They were privateers, seamen who are authorized by the government to plunder enemy ships.

  “What’s the difference between pirates and privateers?” Trina asked him.

  “Privateers turn over their booty to the governments who license them, while pirates keep what they’ve taken.”