by Diana Cosby
Or Marie, Colyne silently added. They would kill her as well, and then return her body to the Highlands to be found as proof of their foul accusations.
“I will have to allow them to board.” Logan gestured to his man. “Go above and ensure our guests,” he drawled, sarcasm lacing his words, “are nae allowed on the ship until I arrive.”
“Aye, Captain.” The sailor hurried out.
Worry clouded Marie’s eyes as she glanced from one man to the other. “What are we going to do? We cannot stay here, but there is no way to escape.”
Logan hesitated. “There is another way for you to reach shore.”
“Nay.” Colyne understood his friend’s intention, but he refused to jeopardize her life. “She has barely recovered and is too weak to try.”
“Too weak to try what?” she demanded.
Colyne scowled at Logan. “Naught.”
“Unless you wish to be caught or we fight and try sailing from port, ’tis your only choice,” his friend insisted. “I did nae say that you had to like it.”
Marie straightened her shoulders and glared at the two men. “If there is another way off this ship, we shall take it.” She shot Colyne a challenging look. “Whatever it involves, I will hold my own.”
Chapter 17
By Colyne’s dark scowl, he understood exactly what method of escape the captain was suggesting and didn’t like it. But with English knights on deck demanding a search, it mattered little what he approved of. She narrowed her gaze. “Tell me.”
At Colyne’s stubborn silence, the captain cleared his throat, his face grim. “You must escape through a hatch on the side of the ship using a rope ladder. I will have one of my men secure a small boat at the bottom to—”
“Nay.” Colyne glared at her with a look that clearly stated she was nae going anywhere. “She is too weak.”
“How dare you dismiss my involvement in this?” Marie argued, furious he’d try.
Red slashed Colyne’s face.
Raised voices echoing from the guards emphasized the fact that little time remained to escape, much less to argue. “I understand your worry,” Marie said, gentling her voice. His stubbornness came from concern for her.
“Unless you want to chance hiding aboard ship,” the captain said, his voice tight, “there is nay other choice.”
Marie kept her eyes locked on Colyne’s. “As they have authority to search any sealed containers, there is not.” After the carnage they’d witnessed at the massacre of his friends, Marie held no illusions as to hers or Colyne’s fate if caught. If climbing down the side of the ship would keep them safe, she’d do it.
She drew herself up to her full height, recognizing her gesture as regal, as Colyne had claimed. “Have the ladder lowered over the side,” Marie said to the captain with quiet authority.
The captain arched an amused brow toward Colyne. “Aye, my lady.”
Colyne’s scowl deepened, but he nodded his assent.
His protectiveness warmed Marie, but Colyne must accept that he wouldn’t always be there to defend her.
“I will delay the guards until I receive word from my crew that you are on your way,” Logan said, “then I will allow them to search the ship.”
Colyne exhaled a rough sigh. “I shall leave my mail within your chest.”
“Should the guards ask,” Logan said, “I will claim it as my own.” He clasped Colyne’s hand. “Godspeed.”
“Godspeed to you, as well.”
The captain pressed a chaste kiss upon Marie’s knuckles. “Take care, my lady.”
“Thank you. I will ensure my father learns of your bravery.”
“Nay, lass, my aid is given freely.” Devilment sparked in the captain’s eyes. “Besides, I need nae for my name to be bantered about before your father or any other powerful lord.” With a roguish smile, he left.
“Logan has had several encounters with outraged noble fathers,” Colyne explained dryly as he removed his mail and stowed it within the hewn wooden chest.
That she could believe. “Where now?”
“A sword’s wrath, you are nae fit to be climbing down a rope ladder.”
“A fact you ignored last night,” she charged, not that she wasn’t as guilty for asking him to make love. With no secrets between them, a peace had enveloped her with his every touch. She only wished for more time with him.
And that he loved her.
Fragile hope swirled within her of the possibility of their sharing a life together. A life out of reach unless she spoke with her father and asked him to end her betrothal. Torn between duty and wanting Colyne, she was at an impasse. By the Grace of Mary, never would she upset her father, but loving Colyne, could she settle for a life without happiness?
Sadness weighed upon Marie as she followed Colyne through the storage hold. Within a day they would reach her father. Then Colyne would leave and she’d never see him again.
How could she live without him?
How could she break her vow?
Fighting back her emotions, she hurried to where a sailor waved them toward the hatch. At their fast pace, her breathing grew labored and her legs rebelled, but she pushed herself. A cramp in her side forced her to slow.
With a scowl, Colyne caught her shoulder. “You are nae well enough to do this!”
The footsteps of the armed men thudded on the wooden planks overhead.
“Bedamned.” He swept her into his arms.
“I can walk.”
He gave her a quelling stare. “You will be needing your strength soon enough.”
As he carried her, she remained silent. Arguing would yield naught and possibly gain them notice from the knights searching the ship. And she was tired. Every muscle in her body ached. Once they’d reached the small boat, she would welcome the opportunity to rest.
“Take care as you climb down,” the sailor cautioned as they reached his side.
Colyne set her on her feet.
“The boat is secured below,” he continued. “Be careful as you board. If it breaks free, the strong current will pull it away.” He pointed to a stand of trees crowding the shore where branches, thick with leaves, canopied to scrape the water’s surface. “Row beneath them and secure the craft there. We will retrieve it after dark.”
Relieved by the sailor’s thoughtfulness, Marie’s spirits rose. “My thanks.”
Impatient footsteps clattered above, this time closer to the entry that would lead them to the storage hold.
“Hurry on with you now,” the sailor urged. “From the sound of it, the captain is nae going to be able to keep them from coming below much longer.”
Colyne moved to the exit. “I shall go first. Climb down after me, but stay close.”
She nodded.
Once he’d disappeared over the side, the sailor helped Marie onto the rope ladder. Her arms trembled as she clung to the tightly bound hemp, the full extent of how weak she’d grown during her illness becoming unnervingly clear.
“Marie?”
The worry in Colyne’s voice had her forcing herself to take a step down. “I am coming.” Her arms trembled as she started her descent. After several steps, she made the mistake of looking down.
Far below, waves bumped against the side of the ship.
Nausea clenched in her gut. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the rope, her brow slick with sweat. She could do this.
She had to.
“What is wrong?” Colyne called up.
“I am fine.” She wasn’t, but she wouldn’t tell him that. She opened her eyes, focused on the hewn wood of the hull, then started down. Rope scraped her hands as she caught the lower rung. Waves continued to slap the scarred hull, and the cries of the seagulls overhead echoed as if to mock her.
As she started to lower her foot, her vision began to blur. She clenched the rough twine, held tight.
“Marie?”
“I . . .” Her stomach rolled. She was going to be sick.
“Hold on
!” The ladder twisted as Colyne climbed to the rung below her. He wrapped his arm around the small of her waist. “We are going back.”
She wanted to argue, but with nausea rising in her throat, all she could do was nod.
The hatch above slammed shut.
Colyne’s muttered curse matched Marie’s thoughts exactly. “Let me go,” she said, frustrated when her voice wavered. “I can make it down.”
“You are trembling,” he countered, sounding far from convinced.
Her delay placed them in greater danger. “I needed a brief rest. I am fine now.”
The ladder shifted as he moved.
A bead of sweat slid down her face as she struggled to follow. Her vision again blurred and her foot missed the lower rung. By sheer will, she focused long enough to snag the rope with her slipper.
“You are doing fine.”
Colyne’s voice reached her from somewhere in the distance. A gust of wind pummelled her body and merged with the storm building in her ears. Focus, she ordered herself. But her eyes refused, and then her body started to shake.
And the world began to fade.
“Colyne!”
At the panic in her voice, Colyne leaned to the side until he could see her face. Her skin had grown chalky white. “Marie? Marie, look at me!”
She didna respond.
“Hold on. I am coming up.”
Above him, her body sagged.
Why had he listened to her? He never should have allowed her to attempt to climb down. As he started to cradle her body against his, her right hand lost its grip; she fell.
Colyne caught her hand.
Barely.
Now dead weight, she dangled at the end of his arm. The muscles in his injured shoulder screamed as he strained to keep hold. “Marie?”
“Colyne?”
At her weak whisper, his heart pounded. “Do nae move!” His grip on her was precarious at best.
A thump sounded near the hatch above. Another bump echoed inside the hull farther away.
The guards must be searching each crate. Thank God they’d nae made it back and tried to hide.
Marie moaned. Then, as if becoming aware of her precarious position, with her free hand she lunged for the rope.
The ladder lurched violently to the left.
“Colyne!” She clawed for a better grasp. “I cannot hold on!”
Her fingers within his slipped. “Stay still!”
Raw terror filled her eyes. “I am losing you!”
To brace himself, Colyne jammed his boot against the side of the rung. With the ladder swinging wildly, he missed. Off balance, he lunged to catch a rung as he fought to keep hold of Marie.
Her arm flailed. On a wild grab, her free hand caught his leg.
The ladder twisted violently.
Colyne lost his grip. Air, sharp with the tang of salt, rushed down his throat as he plunged straight down, Marie falling at his side.
“Help me!” she screamed.
“Keep hold of my hand when we—”
Cold water enveloped them with a roar, the force tearing her away. Bubbles streamed around him in a sheet of broken white and erased her from his view.
Colyne used his hands to slow his descent and then kicked to propel himself up. Water exploded around him as he surfaced. Gasping for breath, he scanned the blur of waves building beneath the wind’s brisk flow.
Where was she?
A hint of white flashed through the inky depths.
God, nay!
Sucking in a huge gulp of air, he dove. Colyne reached out, his fingertips grazing hers. His lungs screamed for air, but he kicked deeper. This time, he snagged her cloak. He pulled her toward him.
Marie’s form bumped against him like a limp doll.
Heart pounding, he kept his grip on her as he swam up. They broke the surface, and she started to cough.
She was alive! His throat tightened with emotion as he pulled her against him as he treaded water. “I have a hold of you. You are fine now.” Safe was another matter.
At least with the steady wind, the waves would continue to build. If any of the English knights scanned the bay, the waves would provide a fairly effective shield.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her words sluggish.
“I am taking you to the boat.” He fought for calm as he swam with her in his arms. He’d almost lost her. What if he hadna seen her below the waves? Nay, he wouldna think of that. “Hold on to me.”
In reply, her hand tightened on his neck.
He didna care that she didna speak. She was alive, that was all that mattered. Using his free arm, he swam toward the boat.
Instead of closing on the craft, it drifted farther away.
To his right, floating on top of the water, he noticed the slack line. The sailor’s warning came to mind. When they’d fallen into the bay, the impact of waves must have tugged the line free. “A sword’s wrath!”
“What is wrong?”
At the exhaustion in her voice, he steadied himself. The last thing he wished was to alarm her further. “The boat is loose, ‘twill take but a moment to catch it.” Colyne swam after it, holding Marie afloat at his side.
The small craft bobbed in the water with cheerful abandon, the gap between them quickly expanding to several fathoms.
Refusing to give up, he swam harder, his fear growing with each stroke. The boat had become caught in the current.
Eyes raw with fear turned on Colyne. “We are not going to catch it, are we?”
“Aye.” Colyne swam harder. His muscles screamed. Water swirled past.
The distance between them and the boat grew.
Breathing hard, he paused, began to tread water.
“What now?” she murmured, her pallor increasing his worry.
He scanned the docks, then the Kincaid. They couldna risk being caught. “We will swim with the current to shore.”
With sure, steady strokes, he moved near the pier and kept them within the shadows of the moored ships. Thankfully, the crowd on the wooden dock above, along with the height of the growing waves, shielded them.
By the time they reached the shelter of the trees near shore, Marie’s body was trembling uncontrollably.
As if she had the strength to try to swim in the first place.
His guilt grew. She hadna recovered from her bout of seasickness—nae that he had allowed her proper sleep last night. But when she’d returned his kiss, he’d become lost in the passions she aroused.
In his entire life, nay one had ever responded to him with such completeness. And with her every word, her every touch, she filled the emptiness that haunted him. Now, because of his selfishness, he’d put her life further at risk.
His boot grazed a rock and he stood. Water streamed from their bodies as he lifted Marie and carried her up the steep embankment.
Her teeth chattered and she groggily lifted her head. “Co—cold.”
“I know. You shall be warm soon.” And with her watching him with such belief, he’d do whatever it took to make his claim true.
Through the shield of leaves, standing on the pier, holding the rope to the small craft, Logan, accompanied by several English knights, came into view.
Colyne sighed with relief. Their mishap had been a blessing in disguise. At least his friend had recovered his boat, and ‘twould end any suspicions the knights might have had of their presence aboard the Kincaid.
Now he must find Marie dry clothing and shelter. Turning, he ducked under a low limb. He kept beneath the overhanging branches as he made his way along the bank. After stealing a blanket and clothes for her from a line behind a battered hut, Colyne hid within an abandoned shelter and helped her change. “Marie?”
She frowned at him in confusion.
Panic welled in his gut. She scrutinized him as if a stranger. “Marie?”
Silence.
A sword’s wrath, her exhaustion combined with the coldness of the water from their swim was making her lose conscio
usness.
He said a silent prayer as he wrapped her in the blanket and cradled her against his chest. He had to find shelter, a healer, and warm her fast. Colyne pressed a kiss to her brow. “I am going to take care of you. I promise.”
Concern for her deteriorating condition pressed him to take risks; he entered the village he’d wanted to skirt around. He darted through alleys he would have otherwise avoided. At times he caught the interested stares of the people living in this dangerous part of town. Colyne shot them warning glares to keep their distance and moved on.
He wove through several streets, thankful he’d visited this area on a few occasions. At least he knew his way around, along with which parts of the village the duke’s men would most likely ignore.
As he rounded a corner, a decrepit inn came into view. By its fallen state, he doubted they boarded many patrons. Exactly the type of place he was searching for. The fewer people who saw them the better.
Marie moaned.
“We are almost there.” He hugged her to him and hurried inside. Wood creaked and then settled with a thunk as Colyne shoved the door shut. The scent of tallow candles stung the air as his vision adjusted to the dim, narrow chamber. A small hewn table sat to the right, the accompanying chairs designed for durability nae beauty, but overall, the inn was cleaner than he’d expected.
“What would you be wanting?” a woman’s rough voice demanded.
He glanced toward the middle-aged woman whose black hair was twisted into a haphazard braid. “A room,” he replied, nae making any gestures she would deem threatening.
“My husband has yet to remove the sign; we no longer accept guests.”
Even better. Anyone searching for them would never look here. “My wife is ill and needs to rest. Please, any room will do. I have money to—”
“Non.”
Colyne retrieved two coins and held them up for her inspection.
She sniffed. “I have a small chamber, but it has naught but a bed and a hearth. You can stay there for the night.”
Thankful, he retrieved five more coins, more than sufficient payment for a stay at the finest inn in Glasgow. “Three days?” Time, he prayed, that would allow Marie to recover.
A frown creased her brow as the woman studied him. After a moment, she nodded.
