by Alisa Adams
Lawrence stood up straighter. He looked down his nose at her as his jaw worked in annoyance. “Mine.” Then he leaned down closer, almost into her face as he struggled not to lose his temper. “But we dinnae kill for any horse—”
“No!” she said, raising one finger up to his shocked face to silence him. “You did!” She huffed the hair out of her face and then corrected herself as he straightened back up, leaning away from her. “Not you, one of your men killed mi madre—for my horse. You stole mi padre’s ship!. But mi padre will come for me!” She began to hurl words at him in a rush of anger and sadness from her broken heart. “He loved mi madre above all else, she was su amada, his beloved, and one of your evil pirates killed her. I followed him and my horse onto the ship. Mi padre will come to find me, for I am his beloved daughter! He is a good man, well loved by all! He is the senor del pueblo. The lord of the village as you say. He is a successful merchantman with many ships and he will come sailing over the seas to seek vengeance for the death of mi madre and rescue me from you pirates!” she said on a broken sob as she covered her face and turned from him to cry quietly into her hands.
He took a step towards her, unsure what to do with this woman.
She took her hands away and swiped at her eyes and nose and stomped away from him. She sat down in the sand with her arms on her knees and faced out to sea as if waiting and watching for her father, expecting him at any moment.
The animals gathered around her with the goats and the calf laying in the sand snug to her sides and back.
Lawrence ran both hands through his hair. How dare she accuse him? What had happened? If this girl was the daughter of the owner of the San Gabriel, then how could she not know that her father was a wicked pirate? In fact, the most wicked pirate on the seas! A thieving, murderous, evil pirate. Truly? Did she not know that all the gold and jewels on the ship were her father’s, stolen from other ships and pirates he had killed over many, many years? He frowned. He was not aware that the pirate named DeLeon, who he had stolen the San Gabriel from, had a wife and daughter all these years. Many women, but no wife, and certainly no daughter.
He stared at her, thinking.
“What did the mon that murdered yer mither look like, lass?” he asked in a quiet, challenging voice.
She did not look at him. She answered in a monotone voice. “Thin, not too tall, but taller than I. Dressed all in black, with a black cloth covering his hair and most of his face.”
“Did he speak Scots or Castilian?” Lawrence asked evenly.
There was a pause as she thought. “Both. Going back and forth easily. Fluently.”
Lawrence nodded. His eyes narrowed as he pictured two that fit her description. One was foremost in his thoughts, but he had not made it off the wreck alive. However, he did not want her alarmed, nor did he believe any of his other men would murder a woman. “There was one in ma crew that fits yer description, but he drowned in the shipwreck,” he told her as the exhaustion from the night before threatened to overtake him. He had lost some of his men. Good men. And apparently, one bad man. Or so it appeared, if she was to be believed.
He waited and waited, staring at her. Finally, she turned to look at him. He met her eyes with open honesty when she stared at him, looking deep within his soul to read his truth.
She nodded and looked away. “I will put the thought of the murderer away in a box. I will not think about it today. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day, or even the next. But I will not think about that today since he is no longer with us.”
Lawrence scratched his chin. “A box, lass?” He shook his head. “Niver mind.” He held his hands up to stop her from explaining when she turned to him.
She looked away, back to the sea.
“What is yer name then, lass?”
She did not look at him when she answered, only continued to watch the murmuring waves. “I am Darling MacRae DeLeon.”
He reeled back when she said the name DeLeon. So, she is the pirate DeLeon’s daughter! But she had also said MacRae.
“Ye are part Scottish?” he said with surprise.
“I am. My mother is...was a Scot,” she said in a clipped voice.
Lawrence paused. He did not know what to say to make her feel any better about the murder of her mother. He knew what that loss felt like. Then he was struck by her first name, not just her last. “Darling is an auld, auld Scots name. It is a term of endearment,” Lawrence said. He shook his head. “I dinnae ken any MacRaes. But the name sounds familiar.”
“My name is Miss DeLeon to you,” she said firmly as she stared stubbornly out to sea. “Darling is a term of endearment, and I was named such because my father loved me and mi madre so very much.” She turned and looked at him, angrily. “You may not call me Darling.” She looked abruptly away from his piercing blue eyes, back out to sea, as if expecting her father's ship to come across it at any moment.
Lawrence took a step to leave before pausing. He turned back to her. “I should have said this first, but I thank ye for saving so many of ma crew and passengers and the animals.”
He watched as she swiped at another tear as she stared out to the horizon. “You are welcome, Capitan—” She paused and turned to finally look at him. “I do not know your name.”
“I am Captain Lawrence MacLeod.”
She laughed once, sadly. “You are no longer a capitan. You have no ship.”
“Ye continue to attempt to rile ma temper?”
“I suppose I do, MacLeod,” she said with a grim smile as she turned away. She would not look at him, even when he made an irritated growling noise.
“That growling sound you are making will not frighten me.” She waived one hand nonchalantly in the air without turning to him. “Put your temper away in a box. That is what I do so that I can always remain so calm and serene. You should try it, MacLeod.”
Lawrence had to stop himself from laughing or reaching forward to strangle this irritating woman. Does she truly think she is always so calm and serene? “Vera well then, Lion,” he said in a gruff voice, saying the English meaning of her name. “We will spend the next few days getting what we can off the ship before she sinks further. If ye wish tae come tae the caves, we have food and drink there. Then we will depart inland to Kinloch Keep.”
Darling finally looked back at him with a mournful smile. “I will remain here to wait for mi padre,” she said firmly. “Buenos dias, MacLeod.”
“Laird Lawrence MacLeod, or Captain,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Ma men call me Law, ye will dae well tae learn the way of this.”
He did not wait for her to answer. He tossed his waterskin into the sand at her hip. Then he whistled to a huge brown horse up the beach. The big stallion trotted eagerly to him. He gripped some of its mane and jumped easily up onto its back. Then he turned the huge horse around with his seat and legs and cantered down the beach towards the caves before the Spanish woman could rile his temper further. She was a maddening, stubborn, foolish girl.
He had too much to think about other than her. He was going to put thoughts of her in that ridiculous box in his mind she spoke of. He could not think about her today. He had to concentrate on his crew and passengers and get them all to Kinloch Keep. And the very real possibility that either the Sutherlands or the MacKenzies, his neighbors to the south and west, may have taken the keep. Other than that, there was also the possibility of the pirate DeLeon coming to Kinlochervie’s shores.
He rode away from her—leaving her there, sitting in the sand, surrounded by the animals, watching the sea.
Waiting for her father.
The pirate.
The most wicked pirate of them all.
3
Darling sat on the beach all that day. She was reluctantly grateful for the waterskin the captain had left with her, but she had finished it long ago.
The animals had wandered to the top of the beach for grass and then returned, meandering around or sleeping in the breezy sunshine beside her.
&nbs
p; Late that afternoon, one of the young women she had pulled from the ship and gotten to shore came walking down the beach. She had a flask of ale and a sack filled to the brim with food; bread, milk meats, dried beef, and oatcakes. She sat silently down beside Darling, handing her the food and drink without speaking as she too stared out to sea.
“Gracias,” Darling said quietly as she accepted the food and drank thirstily from the flask.
“Nay, ’tis I that should be thanking ye,” the other young woman said as she continued to stare at the sea. “Ye saved my life and for this, I cannae thank ye enough.” She turned to look at Darling with pale, grey eyes. “I am Cristianna Ross and I would vera much like tae know the name of the woman who saved my life, and my horse’s life too.”
Cristianna motioned up the beach to a young, bay Clydesdale draft horse with a white mane and huge, full white feathers around its hooves. It stood next to two other Clydesdale drafts that looked much the same though one’s coat was lighter, almost golden-red, and it was larger. The other was even larger, a dark bay, almost black with four white socks and masses of white feathers around its hooves. Its mane and tail were black.
Darling turned to where Cristianna Ross had pointed. She gasped. “The big draft is yours, mi Senora Cristy Anna? You ride him?”
“Aye, there are those that think my brothers and I are daft for riding sich horses but we have a soft spot for the Clydesdales. They are big, gentle giants.” Cristianna smiled at Darling. “My brother is the captain’s second-in-command,” she said proudly. “Warwick Ross. I have another brother that serves under the captain as well. His name is Falcun. My name is not two words. Only one: Cristianna. ’Tis simple, like my brothers War and Falcun.”
Darling smiled back at the friendly girl. She had heard these names on the ship. “I am Darling MacRae DeLeon.” She pointed to her black mare. “The black horse is my mare, Tommy. She is from Friesland. I call her Tommy.”
Cristianna stilled and stared at her a moment at hearing the name DeLeon. Then she nodded once. “Queen Tommy of the Massegetae, east of the Caspian sea. A female ruler and warrior leader of her own army. Known to be fair and honest, and a fierce protector of her people. A powerful woman.”
Darling smiled back at her and then looked at her mare. “Si. That horse is a queen. Look how she reigns over them all, guarding and protecting all the animals less strong or brave than she is. Their guardian angel, I think.”
Cristianna looked at the animals and then at Darling. “Nay, I think they believe it is ye that is guarding them. See how they stay close tae ye? Are ye a guardian of the weak? A guardian angel?”
Darling looked at the animals with a soft smile. She reached out and stroked the tiny calf who had come to curl up beside her. She turned back to Cristianna. “I am not an angel, but a guardian of the weak? Perhaps. I love all animals. I could not leave a single one behind to drown on the ship. Or a single person, so...perhaps.” She saw the faraway look on Cristianna’s face. “You travel with your brothers? And the other women who were on the ship, they are passengers too?”
Cristianna’s smile faded, and she looked down at her hands where they rested in her lap. She dug her bare toes into the sand and avoided Darling’s eyes. She reached up and fidgeted with her dark, wildly curling hair that fell just past her shoulders.
Darling waited patiently, watching the emotions crossing the young woman’s’ face and the haunted look in her lovely, almost silver-colored eyes. “Are you the captain’s prisoners?” she asked worriedly as she placed her hand over Cristianna’s.
Cristianna looked up in surprise and laughed. “Och, Captain MacLeod? Nay! The opposite!” She cleared her throat and explained to a confused Darling, “He and my brothers—War and Falcun—saved us. The other women and I had been caught, taken from our homes and villages in the Highlands, put on a ship, and sold far away. The captain and my brothers traded their lives for us, then fought their way out.” She clutched her hands tightly together in her lap and stared at her toes as she dug them down into the warm sand. She would not meet Darling’s eyes. “They freed all those captured. There were men, women, and children as well,” she said quietly.
Darling stared at her silently. “Dios mios,” she whispered as she put an arm around Cristianna’s shoulders to console her. She patted Cristianna’s arm with her free hand.
Cristianna looked at her in surprise, but quickly lowered her chin, staring instead at the sand she let sift through her fingers.
Darling surprised her with a gentle hug and then took her arm away from Cristianna’s shoulder. She shook her head miserably for her new friend. Then she looked at Cristianna again. “Where are the others that were freed? Were they all on the shipwreck?”
Cristianna shook her head. “Some of us came on the San Gabriel sailing under Captain MacLeod. The others were on the captain’s ship the Lion, under my brother Warwick’s command as captain. The rest were on Sandolf MacKay’s ship the Lioness.”
Darling swallowed tightly as she looked at Cristianna’s tense face. “Three ships? You do not know where your brother’s ship is or the other ship, do you? You fear the storm—”
“Aye,” Cristianna said with worry clear in her voice. “I dinnae ken if the other two ships made it through the storm. They were behind us. The Lion is three hundred tons and carries two hundred and sixty men plus the people that were rescued and a full range of supplies and most of the horses.” She frowned sadly. “The Lioness is smaller, half the size with a smaller crew. The captain of the Lioness, Sandolf MacKay, has a younger brother Raf who was on the San Gabriel just as my brother Falcun and I. Raf is afraid his brother’s ship didnae make it.” She looked at Darling with worry clear in her eyes. “Captain MacLeod feels responsible for everyone’s safety. He nearly drowned trying tae get everyone off the ship in the storm.” She gazed out to sea with a line of worry between her delicately arched brows. “He is troubled that the other two ships have nae been seen yet. Though he wilnae say it.”
Darling pictured him as he had stood on the beach before her earlier that day. He had looked off to the horizon frequently when they talked. He was looking for the other ships.
“The other women on the San Gabriel? The women I helped off the ship? Are they faring well?”
Cristianna smiled with embarrassment. “We shouldnae have left ye this morn, but ye were sleeping sae peacefully we didnae want tae bother ye. We went tae find something tae eat over to the caves with the crew. All of us—Mery Munro, Jamys Gunn, a girl named Serena, and Charlotte Lynn MacNuviae.” She held her hair over one shoulder to control it from the sea winds. “Mery and Jamys also have brothers that are part of Captain MacLeod’s crew, like myself. They are Gamelin Munro and MacDuff Gunn.”
“You are all well then, after being captured?”
“Aye,” Cristianna said with a grim smile. “Well enough.” She ducked her head as she spoke very quietly, “I dinnae wish tae talk aboot it. We are alive, that is what matters. Saved twice now! Our futures must be blessed,” she said softly, though there was pain in her eyes as she looked back to the sea.
Darling touched her shoulder gently. “Do you have a home and other family somewhere waiting for you?”
Cristianna stood up and faced the sea. “We do. On the other side of Scotland, overlooking the Moray Firth. Our home is called Fionnaghal. It means ‘white shoulders’ and it is built of white stone. But my brothers and I have no family left there. Our auld uncle who raised us…he was killed in the attack by those that took me. Warwick and Falcun are determined tae go back and win Fionnaghal back,” she said with fear in her voice. “I dinnae think I can go back there again. I would only see the ghosts…” She felt a hand over hers and looked over to see that Darling had stood up as well and was beside her, staring at her with tears coursing down her face as she clasped her hand.
“You have come through a terrible, terrible thing,” she whispered as she held Cristianna’s hand tightly within her own. “Dios Mira—God watches. H
e watches over you. You are safe now. Put these horrible memories away in a box in your mind. Do not think about them. Perhaps you can think about them tomorrow or another day.”
Cristianna smiled tremulously, curious at the Castilian woman’s expression of putting her troubles away in a box. She rather liked it, and her. “And ye? How came ye tae be on the ship?”
Darling heaved a massive sigh. “Mi madre was killed and our horse, Tommy, was taken. I followed the murderer who had my horse onto the ship thinking I could get Tommy back. The ship sailed before I was able. And here I am.” She looked at Cristianna and offered a brave smile. “But mi padre loved mi madre more than anything and he loves me so much that he will sail after me. He will come to get me. I am sure of this.”
Cristianna smiled sadly. “I am sorry for yer mither and ye. Ye are lucky to have such a father. With a love as ye describe, I do believe he will come for ye! Thank ye for saving us all and my horses too. I dinnae know what I would have done if our horses had not made it off the ship. They are part of Fionnaghal.”
Darling could only nod.
“Come doon the beach tae the caves,” Cristianna said as she swallowed and managed a smile. “We have food and shelter. The captain is still bringing the crates and trunks from the ship, but we have food. Ye must be frightened being out here all by yerself.”
Darling was shaking her head before she had even finished speaking. “Sometimes I am frightened or worried or so very sad that mi madre is gone, but then I decide to think about all that tomorrow or another day.” She smiled. “No, I will be fine. I will stay here and wait for mi padre. But gracias—thank you, for the food.”
Nothing Cristianna could say could convince Darling to come and join the others. She took the tartan cloak that had been wrapped around her blue-grey gown and handed it to Darling. “Captain MacLeod said you would need this.” She smiled as Darling took the tartan and ran her hand over it, marveling over its soft, thick weave.
