But Robbie didn’t share his good cheer. She stared at the ground in stunned silence while everyone bustled around her.
She had no desire to go to the Highlands.
28
~ RETRIBUTION ~
The only thing that stopped Robbie from telling the clan she wanted to take them to the Yucatán was their willingness to board the Obsidian.
Jax, Moon Hawk, and Kante had awaited them at the cavern with three longboats. In less than an hour, they managed to safely ferry fifty-seven of their kinsfolk to the ship. Only a few women were hesitant to leave their husbands, but quickly followed suit when Lyall returned to the cavern with all the MacGregors of Glenstrae save for six men. The same six men who’d been loyal to Eoin since the day he’d taken over as chieftain. The same six men who’d accompanied Eoin on the raids. And it was undoubtedly these same six men who’d led Eoin to the cavern.
They dismounted outside the entrance and the sounds of their approaching footfalls all but stopped Robbie’s heart.
“Make haste, and ready the ship,” Reid ordered Moon Hawk and pushed the last of their kinsfolk away from the rock ledge.
“Holy Christ!” Eoin stormed into the cavern. He unsheathed his sword and narrowed his gaze on Lyall. “What is this?”
Never had she seen Eoin so enraged—lips tightened, nostrils flaring, muscles flexed. Torchlight cast shadows over his seething face, darkening the slits of his eyes.
“I swear on the cross, I’ll gut ye down, cousin.” A thick vein bulged in Eoin’s forearm as he threatened Reid with the tip of his sword. “Ye cannae just take my clan.”
“Get Robbie into the boat,” Reid calmly ordered Lyall then unsheathed the basket sword at his hip. “They no longer wish to feed your appetite for bloodshed.”
Lyall pushed Robbie into the last longboat with Jax, then climbed in behind her. She protested the separation and struggled back to the side, but Lyall wrapped both arms around her middle and pinned her in place.
“We had a deal.” Eoin tried to circle Reid, but he was smart enough not to let the scut maneuver him into his cronies.
“You breached our agreement when ye stole my ship.” Reid scrapped the steel of his blade against Eoin’s and pushed him back two steps. His men backed up as well.
The boat rocked as Robbie fought Lyall’s hold. “Get in the boat, please,” she begged Reid, terrified the dreams he’d awakened inside her would all be lost at the end of Eoin’s blade. “He is not worth it.”
Eoin’s icy glare froze her blood. “Ye have your whore. Where is my gold?”
Instead of inching his way toward the boat, Reid advanced on Eoin with a roar. Their swords clashed, once, twice, three times, ringing off the walls of the cavern. Reid’s footing was sharp, but Eoin’s wrath made him a deadly opponent.
Robbie’s toes curled inside her brogues, and the tears filling her eyes nigh blinded her from seeing the fight. She screamed as Eoin raised his weapon high over his head and then plunged it in a downward arc.
Reid blocked the blow.
A battle of strengths ensued—blade pressed against blade, eyes locked in a war of wills. Then Reid reached between the connected steel and wrapped his fingers around Eoin’s throat.
He squeezed. His arms shook.
The choking noise gurgling out of Eoin’s throat had Robbie holding her breath. She gripped the edge of the boat.
Reid pushed Eoin hard enough to land the bastaird onto his duff at his men’s boot tips. He sucked in large gulps, refilling his lungs with the air Reid had stolen from him.
“Ye want the gold?” Reid gripped the hilt of his sword and raised the weapon high above his head. “Then you’ll have to dive for it.” And with these words he slammed the sharp edge of his weapon downward, snapping the three ropes hanging over the rock ledge in a single blow.
“Nay! Nay, ye fool!” Eoin scrambled toward the edge on his hands and knees and filled his palms with the frayed twine.
Reid jumped into the longboat, pushing them away from the edge. “Row, Jax. Row!”
“Ye bluidy idiot!” In a fit of rage, Eoin retrieved his sword and threw it at them, but the weapon sank into the loch water along with his precious gold. “I’ll find ye. All of ye. I’ll hunt ye down in the Highlands and see ye pay for your treachery.”
“I should have killed him.” Reid pulled Robbie out of Lyall’s arms and crushed her against his chest.
She returned his embrace with a fierce hug, but her eyes remained fixed on Eoin. She memorized the complete look of failure twisting his face. A feeling of vindication straightened her spine. “The fate ye leave him with is worse than death. He has nothing. No chieftainship to hide behind. No clan to feed his arrogance. His fear of the water will prevent him from ever acquiring the gold to fund his war. ’Tis all the vengeance I need for what he’s taken from me.”
Lyall sat heavily atop a cross bench and scrubbed his beard. “Eoin MacGregor is many things, but he is far from ignorant. ’Tis true, he willnae dive, but he is more than capable of fishing those empty nets out of the loch.”
“Empty?” Robbie looked at Reid for clarification.
“Jax, Moon Hawk, and the others transported the gold back aboard the Obsidian while we collected the clan from Brack Roody.”
A tickle flittered inside her—part wickedness, part jubilation. “We have the gold.” She all but giggled the words.
“We have the gold,” Reid parroted, but in a somber tone that squashed her merriment. “And when Eoin discovers the nets are empty, I suspect he’ll make good on his promise to hunt us down in the Highlands.”
* * *
A poking finger repeatedly stabbed the back of Robbie’s head. She awoke with a start and jerked upright from the desktop. Pain zinged instantly through her lower back and morning light crept beneath eyelids that refused to open.
“Are we there yet?” Cait stood beside the desk cradling a white ermine Robbie hadn’t known she’d snuck aboard. The beastie’s tail coiled round Cait’s thin forearm and licked her fingers. “Snowball is hungry.”
Anice sat up in Reid’s bed, hugged her legs, and propped her chin atop her knees. “Will there be food where we are going?”
“Of course, angel.” A tug instantly pulled at Robbie’s heart. She knew what it was like to awaken hungry, but had learned at an early age no matter how much begging one did, if the food wasn’t there, it wasn’t there. She rubbed the kink from her neck and carefully stepped over four women sleeping atop furs lining the floor. She knelt beside the berth and tucked a blonde lock behind the girl’s ear which uncovered the innocent’s scarred cheek. “Are ye hungry?”
Anice nodded and the five other young girls sharing the bed bobbed their heads as well.
“I would sacrifice my little toe for a chikoo.” Wild Tigress sat cross-legged on the floor in the corner where she’d held baby Alana throughout the night while Nanna snored on the settee.
“What is a chikoo?” Cait settled into a spot in front of Wild Tigress and mimicked her position. Anice climbed out of the bed, brogues on, and plopped down beside her sister. The other girls followed suit.
Wild Tigress smiled at her tiny audience. “A chikoo is a brown fruit. It grows from the sapodilla tree.” Her eyelids slid shut. “It is juicy and sweet and warmed by the sun.”
Cait licked her cracked lips. “I should like to try a chikoo.”
“As would I,” Lyall’s aunt murmured from the floor.
“Then you should come to the Mopán. I will fill a basket for each of you. We have custard apples and guava and…” Wild Tigress held them rapt with descriptions of the Yucatán and all its decadent fruits. Not one of them paid heed to the tears falling over Robbie’s cheeks, nor did they give notice to her hasty exit out of the cabin.
Exhaustion must have stolen her wits. She scrubbed her cheeks and swallowed the sob choking her. After pulling the wool of her arisaid tight around her, she gripped the cold rails of the captain’s deck and scanned the land hugging bo
th sides of the ship. The canvas overhead swelled, pushing them toward the outlet to the sea splayed out in front of them—the Highlands to the north, the Yucatán to the south.
I could be your king and Rukux your castle.
Was she selfish to want to go south? Would she be giving in to romantic ideals and foolishness to want to spend the remainder of her days in the Yucatán loving Reid?
“Mary-Robena,” Grandda bellowed from the helm, pulling her out of her hopeless thoughts.
She gathered her senses, picked up her skirts, and descended the companionway. Draped in furs, Jax, Moon Hawk, and Lyall stood opposite Grandda and Duncan at the tiller, all five of them wore an odd smirk dripping with mischief.
“Good morrow, Miss Mary.” Duncan’s smirk grew into an even broader smile.
“Good morrow, Duncan,” she returned congenially, but studied the odd gathering of men. Then she recognized Grandda’s silver flask in Jax’s hand just before he passed it to Lyall. Well, that explained their vacant expressions. She narrowed a scolding eye on Grandda. “Think ye it is a wee bit early for spirits?”
“Ack. Hold your wheesht, lassie!” Grandda’s grin pushed rows of wrinkles up half his furry cheeks. “Men drink whisky when they are in deliberation.”
“And what, pray tell, are ye deliberating?” Why did she feel like a lone hen in a den of foxes?
“Our course.” Grandda pointed a crooked finger toward the outlet that was approaching ever quickly.
“Which way would ye go, Robbie?” Lyall asked with heavy eyes and tipped the flask to his lips.
“’Tis of no import which way I would go.” A quick scan of the deck found no sign of Reid. “Your laird and captain has set the course for the Highlands. I will abide by this decision as I have vowed to honor and respect him as my lord and husband.”
Jax hooted as did Moon Hawk, and Grandda tapped his walking stick atop the planks. Even Duncan gave her an incredulous look.
“And what of these men?” Lyall gestured toward the Mopán men huddled in furs along the rails. “They need to return to their homelands, to their families. We are indebted to them for their assistance.”
Jax’s face took on an over-dramatized expression. “Jax made a promise to Black Dove. The woman will have my head if I miss the birth.”
Robbie felt her eyes widen. They weren’t seriously contemplating making this decision without Reid.
“Think ye we should go south, Miss Mary?” Duncan asked her point blank from the center of their circle, his hand held the tiller steady.
Her breathing hitched, her heart beat wildly in her chest. What in the name of Odin were they thinking? “Ye all are blootered.” She snatched the flask out of Lyall’s hand and capped it. “Ye accused Calum MacGregor of madness for wanting to take ye to the Yucatán years passed. What is different now?”
“We were protected by the stronghold then,” Grandda pointed out. “Our options have changed.”
“Blast it! Ye cannae make such decisions without your laird.” She frantically searched the decks for her husband. “Where is he?”
“I suspect he is sleeping,” Grandda answered. “The lad was up half the night rowing.”
“Then wake him!” She punched her fists into her hips.
“Miss Mary?” Duncan prodded her for a decision. The tree-covered bluffs came an end. Land had run out and the choice was upon them. “North or south?”
South. She wanted to scream, but stopped herself from making a hasty decision. “Draw the sails. I’ll not—”
“Nok ol!” Cocijo bellowed from the crow’s nest and pointed north. All heads turned over the starboard rail. From behind the bluff, the Dreadnought slid into view. The hatches in the hull flew open, and the noses of a dozen black cannons extended.
“Holy Loki,” Robbie whispered just as a whirling hiss arced toward their starboard side.
An explosion shook the Obsidian.
“Go south, Duncan! South!” Robbie ordered and grabbed the rim of a barrel of sand to steady herself against a second blast.
* * *
“What the devil?” Reid bolted upright and gripped the edge of the wooden bench vibrating beneath him. The sound of cannon fire sent him racing up the ladderways to the main deck. Chaos engulfed the ship. Jax bellowed orders to his Mopán kinsmen swarming through the rigging while Robbie rushed the women and children out of the captain’s quarters. Arms filled with bairns, the MacGregor men hastened the clan toward the bow of the ship.
The pulse of a single heartbeat was all the more time Reid had to fret over their well-being before another blast threw the Obsidian off kilter.
He leaned over the larboard side and caught sight of the Dreadnought. Wiping sea spray out of his eyes, he swiveled on his boot heel and caught Cocijo’s upper arm to still his flight. “Gather three bricks of gold from the keel and a satchel. Make haste!”
The Mopán laddie dropped down the afthatch without question.
The cries of a squalling babe knifed through Reid’s ears as he tipped a water barrel on its side.
“The Dreadnought came out of no where.” Robbie dropped to her knees beside him and helped him hold the barrel while the contents drained.
“Is anyone injured?” He retrieved a blade from his boot to cut a length of rope hanging down from the yardarm.
“Nay.” With damp eyes and an expression verging on a sob, she craned her head over her shoulder to check the gathering at the prow. “But they are frightened.”
“I’ll protect them, love,” he assured her just as Cocijo returned with the gold.
“Fire!” Colonel Whitley’s order commenced another blast.
“God’s legions!” Reid threw himself atop Robbie and pulled Cocijo into their huddle as icy spray arced over the stern of the ship. The boy muttered an expletive, but quickly set them back on task. They tied the satchel of bricks to the barrel and then hoisted it all over the rail.
Reid climbed a dozen rungs on the main mast and watched Colonel Whitley’s men haul the barrel and satchel up the side of their hull. He prayed the man would be content with the payment and turn back.
Seconds turned to minutes, and the tight anxiety eased out of his muscles when no more threatening shots were fired. Though they began to pull away from the Dreadnought, the warship continued to sail in the white foam of their wake. Only then did Reid study the land sitting on the larboard side of the Obsidian.
They were headed south.
Why the devil were they headed south?
He jumped to the deck where the clan gathered in a loose circle around him. “Who gave the order to alter our course?”
Not one person, man nor woman, answered, but they all looked at Robbie.
He didn’t want to believe that she’d defied him. However, it would be consistent with her nature to do so. “Duncan, who gave the order to go south?” Reid asked the gromet, but his eyes never left his wife who was now backing up toward the starboard rail.
“Miss Mary gave the order, Captain,” Duncan mumbled what Reid already knew.
The long rope of his patience had reached the frayed end. One eye twitched, while the other narrowed on her.
She shook her head vehemently and pointed at Lyall and Argyle. “’Twas their decision.”
Lyall scoffed. “’Twas Jax who suggested it.”
Jax denied the accusation in his native tongue then passed the blame to Moon Hawk, who swiftly returned it full-circle back to Robbie.
“God’s legions! What have ye done, woman?” Reid latched onto her wrist and dragged her behind him across the deck. “How many times must I tell you not to make decisions in haste?”
“I told them to wake ye, but—”
“But nothing! Be still your tongue.” He swore he pulled her arm out of the socket heaving her up the companionway. Once inside the cabin, he released her and slammed the door behind them. He needed time to think, to burn off this anger. He needed nuts. He needed to pace. Without a doubt Robbie intended to return to England
to pursue the meeting with King James. The idea alone sent a vein pulsing beneath his eye. He growled his frustration.
“Reid, control your temper.”
“Ye are completely adder-bitten.” He ripped his fingers through his hair. “Did ye give any forethought at all to the consequences? If we return to England, ye will be delivering the MacGregors straight into the king’s hands for execution.”
He felt the gentle slide of her hand across his back before she spoke. “I dinnae want to go to England, nor do I wish to go to the Highlands.”
He angled his chin over his shoulder. “Eoin’s threats dinnae frighten me. I’m no coward.”
“Reid,” she stepped in front of him and cupped his unshaven jaw. Thick tears pooled in her emerald eyes. She drew a shaky breath. “I love ye, and I—”
“Nay!” He scowled at her and seized her wrist. Denial sat on his shoulder like an ugly troll. “How dare ye. How dare ye!” he yelled. “You know how long I’ve awaited those words. Dinnae use my affections for you to gain my approval.”
Her brow stitched tight in the middle. A swift tug freed her hands from his grip. She pushed him against the bulkhead with shocking strength. “I am not Eoin. If I tell ye that I love ye, ’tis because I speak the truth.”
Warm air passed through his clenched teeth. He straightened his shoulders and wound his fingers through her thick hair, forcing her to face him. “Ye are all about bargains, Robbie. Ye always have been. You bartered a kiss for gold when ye were but a lass. You gave yourself to me for my vow to lead the clan. And now ye stand before me using words of love to attain your next goal. What do ye want now, Robbie?”
Her eyes squeezed tight, and the tears flowed in earnest over her cheeks. As betrayed as he felt by her words, he couldn’t bear the pain of her tears. He loosened his vicious hold on her scalp and awaited her answer.
“What I feel inside me speaks louder than any words.” Robbie hooked her fingers over his inner elbows and stepped close. “I ache for a life with ye. When I dream, I dream of us in the water. When I wake, I think of a gentle man who tames wild beasts and teaches games to bairns that are not his own. I think of the man who is a matchmaker and protective brother of his people.”
Caribbean Scot Page 28
