He alone carried the fault for having made the decision to attack the merchant ship. Taking a chance at not being caught by the most heavily-armed Spanish ship at sea had been stupid and presumptuous.
The crew had paid the price and, for that, he’d not forgive himself.
A man he recognized as Ernest Baker rushed to him. “Captain, come at once, there are two injured men that have just been taken to the healer. The washed ashore with another two who fared better.”
“Our crew?” He hurried after the short man who raced toward a building that they’d first gone to after arriving on the island.
The healer cared for the well-built building. Although he practiced with more herbs than actual instruments, the man was good.
Dorian didn’t bother knocking. He burst through the door.
“Kevin.” He hurried over at seeing the scarred face. “Ye’re alive.”
“Barely,” Kevin sputtered and coughed, a deep gash on his abdomen seeping liquid. “Not sure for how long.”
Dorian looked to the healer who poured some liquid down Kevin’s throat. It caused him to cough, choking on whatever it was.
It wasn’t long after that Kevin fell into a drugged slumber. The healer then cut open the wound and packed it with herbs. “If he lives until tomorrow, he may survive.”
With that, the healer moved to the other injured man.
It was another of his crew who watched Kevin with hooded eyes. “We clung to a piece of wood for days upon days. At one point, I let go…” his voice was raspy, barely above a whisper. “Kevin saved me from drowning.”
Dorian leaned against the wall after the healer left. He would spend the night in vigil. Kevin would not die, not if he had anything to do with it.
It could be weeks before either of his ships would come to port. And although he’d sent messages via other ships, Dorian decided it was best if he made himself at home there on the island for the time being.
Thankfully, he’d brought coin with him on the boat. Before they were attacked, he’d instructed the youngest of his crew to go to the boat with some tack and two bags of jewels and gold.
Now, as he settled into the rooms above a brothel where he would live temporarily, Dorian had too much time to think.
He still had two ships, The Caillte and The Lioness. They were captained by good, reliable men, neither of which had ever pirated. Dorian considered if he should take one for himself to captain or purchase a new one.
It had been days since Kevin had washed ashore. By some miracle, he had survived through the first night and those to come. Not wanting to remain in his room, Dorian decided to visit his friend.
Kevin sat up in bed, a bored expression on his face. When he saw Dorian, the man glowered. “What do ye want?”
“So ye’re still cross with me then?” Dorian moved to stand in front of the bed. “I made a wrong call. However, never did ye try to persuade me to retract.”
The only reply was a grunt, which meant Kevin could not argue.
“I want yer opinion on what to do,” Dorian said while pacing. He proceeded to explain his choices to Kevin. The man listened, albeit with a frown, but he remained silent as Dorian spoke.
“She’s finally seaworthy, Captain,” Cane announced and Dorian agreed. The new ship he’d acquired was well made and bigger than The Mawdelyn. It had been easy to recruit a crew for men were aware of the better living conditions and opportunities to gain wealth with Dorian as their leader.
Choosing the right men, however, took time as he and Kevin spoke to each at length.
In a few days, along with the fifteen survivors from The Mawdelyn, they would go on the first voyage aboard the newly christened Sea Lyon.
Once at sea, he would once again be alone with his thoughts and musings. The changes in crew and becoming accustomed to how they worked together would take a bit of time and, for that, Dorian was grateful.
Kevin returned to the table at the tavern and placed a tankard in front of Dorian. The man then sat across from him. “Deep thought can only take a man to places best left behind.”
“Aye, in that ye are right,” Dorian replied with a sneer. “How long?”
“How long what?” Kevin took a long draw from his tankard. “Ah, I will miss this, having fresh water to drink, food that tastes.”
Dorian burst out laughing when he, too, drank from his tankard and found it to be water. “Aye, tis this I do miss.” He met Kevin’s gaze. “How long til we leave? Ye asked for extra days. Why?”
The only man he could call a true friend met his gaze and then looked around the nearly empty tavern. “I am waiting. I heard some of our crew might have landed near here.”
“Why didn’t ye tell me?”
“Because I hoped to give ye good news. Ye haven’t wanted to talk about things other than the ship. Whenever I’ve tried to bring up another subject, ye dismiss it.”
What Kevin said was true. He’d given the missing men up for dead and had not forgiven himself as yet. Instead of facing what he’d done and searching for the missing men, he’d become comfortable in drinking and falling into a stupor until the next day came and he could do the same.
“I…ye are correct. Now tell me what news ye have.”
A few hours later they were on the neighboring island to follow the information Kevin had received. The men who’d landed on that island were from a capsized ship, but not The Mawdelyn.
Kevin placed a hand on Dorian’s shoulder. “Reginald and the rest may be dead. If not, then we will find them soon.” The words sounded hollow as they walked to the boat that would take them back.
When Kevin blocked his path, Dorian locked gazes with him. “Do ye wish to say something? If so go ahead.”
“Twas not only yer fault, but mine as well. The men needed it. They’d grown weary of long days without anything to do. Both of us share in the blame.”
Dorian nodded. “Tis part of the life, isn’t it?”
“Aye.”
“How long?” Dorian asked again as the sun sank on the horizon.
“Tomorrow.”
They would once again sail the seas for the next few months until Dorian could not stand to be away from his true love any longer.
Chapter Eleven
In the following months that Ileana remained at Dearmad Baile, her life was almost perfect. For the first time in her life, she was finally able to be free and do what she wished.
Her days were filled with the managing of the household. Lily took over the housekeeping staff, while Ileana oversaw the kitchen staff and its already smoothly-run operations. Gladys at her side made managing the large household easier. She enjoyed regular visits to the village to check on families and get to know them.
It became her custom to ride there weekly and speak to the vendors in the town square. Although wary at first, now she was greeted with smiles and offers of whatever was being made.
Although she’d yet to find a hobby she loved, her afternoons flew by as she made tapestries to decorate the keep walls.
Rugs were commissioned for the floors to be used in the study, the bedrooms and in front of the hearth in the great room. Rushes were changed weekly to keep from gaining vermin and keeping rotting smells at bay.
Gladys and she possessed similar ways of thinking. That made life easier, as the woman would not abide any type of uncleanliness in the keep.
And although the cook seemed flustered at first, now the rosy-cheeked woman welcomed Ileana into the kitchens. The cook was astounded by the different recipes and types of herbs her new mistress knew about.
It was during a midday meal while she ate a light soup with Lily and Gladys that the woman finally had the courage to ask.
“Milady, when will our laird come to see ye? It has been months.”
Ileana had been expecting the question. Thankfully, with people of higher station, it was not unheard of for a married couple to live in different places.
“He did not tell me, although I imagine pe
rhaps in the spring.” Ileana continued eating as she pondered if and when she’d ever see Dorian.
It was more probable that their paths would never cross again.
Guards were lined up in the courtyard, many from the village and some from other townships who’d heard of the work. Connor waited at the front, looking toward her as Ileana came out of the main doors. She wasn’t at all prepared for this, to be mistress of a keep without a laird. To share the responsibility of people’s lives with Connor, who graciously kept her abreast of every detail and asking that she weigh in on decisions normally the responsibility of a laird.
She descended the stairs, her head high and shoulders back. Over her shoulder she wore the Fergusson tartan securely fastened with a crest pin.
Lily had braided her hair into a long braid and wrapped it around her head like a crown. She insisted it was best to appear regal at times like this to avoid any kind of disrespect.
“Men, I present Lady Fergusson,” Connor announced to the men gathered.
Every eye followed her as she walked to stand next to Connor. “On behalf of my husband, I welcome ye to Dearmad Baile.” Unsure what else was required, she looked to Connor. “Connor is our laird’s representative and will speak on both our laird’s and my behalf. See that ye keep it present in yer mind.”
When Connor guided her to walk closer, she ensured to keep her face without expression as she met each man’s gaze. “I thank ye for yer willingness to defend our home, which is now yers as well.”
She had to admit that Connor did well. The men were of good stock. Most had a sword across their backs or held some sort of intimidating weapon. The archers were lined up in the back with beautifully carved bows in hand.
Once the duty was performed, she walked to the side garden and sank onto a bench. Even after all this time of this new life, she had yet to stop thinking of Dorian daily.
Why had he done so much for her? To set her up in a life befitting of a wife, with all the privileges and responsibilities.
Perhaps, it was repayment to Connor for faithfulness and she was included because the timing was right. That had to be it. He did not love her and perhaps other than a fascination of youth, never did. Otherwise, how could he send her away never to see each other again?
Of course, over time not seeing him would become easier. However, if after a decade apart she’d never forgotten him, how could she aspire to forget him now?
She stood and walked to a flowering bush. The fragrant blooms swayed in the wind, beckoning a touch. Ileana leaned forward and sniffed at the delicate, white flower only to suddenly feel lightheaded. Everything spun and she fell to the ground, unable to keep from losing consciousness.
“When will ye accept it?” Lily peered down at her. “Ye’re beginning to show.”
Ileana was in her bed. According to Lily, one of the servants had found her on the ground and Connor had carried her inside.
“Tis nothing,” Ileana said weakly, not willing to face reality. “Nothing at all. I haven’t eaten and facing the new guard was distressing.”
Lily huffed. “Bah, ye faced a ship filled with pirates and ye’re going to tell me a group of dirty men intimated ye?”
“They weren’t dirty,” Ileana said with a weak smile. “I think they had all bathed.”
Her remark was met with a flat look. “Ye will have a wee bairn by summer’s end.”
Air caught in her throat and Ileana sputtered when she was finally able to breathe. “No. No. It cannot be.”
Gladys peered in from the doorway. “Ah, I see the mistress is awake. How do ye fare?” Gladys neared and looked her in the eyes. “Tis a blessing to have a second wee one about soon.”
So, everyone knew. They’d accepted it before she could formulate the idea and, in her mind, know it to be true. Yes, she’d known her monthly courses had stopped since leaving Dorian, but in the months since arriving in Scotland, there had been so much to do and become accustomed to, that it took her time to even realize it.
“Have ye been talking about me when I am not around?” she asked with a raised brow. She was attempting to change the bothersome subject.
Instead of the guilt she expected, both women’s heads bobbed up and down.
“Aye, we have,” Gladys said. “Been waiting for ye to accept it.”
“I see.” Ileana looked to the window. “A child.” Tears began flowing and she couldn’t stop the rush of emotion she’d held back. Like a river breaking out of its bank, when she started crying it became impossible to stop. Joy mixed with sadness at knowing her child would never know Dorian.
“Now, now,” Lily said softly while rubbing her arm. “I hope those are tears of happiness.”
Ileana met her gaze and finally looked to Gladys. The woman had become her trusted friend. “Dorian may never meet this child. What will I do? He dispatched me here to live alone without a husband.” Once again, she gave in to despair, unable to fathom raising a second child without his or her father’s protection.
“Ye have us. Tis enough for ye and the bairn that comes,” Gladys said staunchly. “If the laird was here, he would get an earful from me. Leaving ye alone at a time like this. Tis unbecoming.”
Despite the tears, Ileana laughed. “Unbecoming? I’m sure yer words would lance his cold heart.”
Lily giggled. “Aye, he’d be devastated by yer sharp tongue, Gladys.”
It was good to laugh despite the situation. Ileana placed both hands on her rounded stomach. “Ye will never be sent away to be alone wee one. That I vow.”
The seasons passed and, finally, a heavily-burdened Ileana went into labor. After hours of pain, she gave birth to a healthy baby girl. She cried along with the newborn that demanded to be fed straight away. The babe latched on to her breast, suckling with greed.
Bursting with joy, Lily beamed while touching the babe’s soft hair. “She is quite a beauty.”
“As yers will be,” Ileana told her dear friend, as Lily would be birthing within weeks. “They will be dear friends as ye and I have become.”
“Ye have visitors, Milady,” a flushed maid announced to Ileana and Lily as they sat in what had become a combination sewing room and nursery during the day. Many an hour was spent there looking after the bairns, while talking and sewing.
Ileana and Lily exchanged looks and Ileana stood. “Let us go see.” It wasn’t unusual for neighboring lairds and wives to visit on occasion. However, they usually sent a message prior to showing up.
Ileana descended the stairs only to fly down once halfway to the bottom. She threw herself into her mother’s arms, tears already falling. Her father stood stoically by with a warm smile, allowing the women time.
“How did ye find me?” a delighted Ileana asked, her face alight with joy. “I never would have dreamed to see ye again.”
“By messenger. A missive from Connor Barrington,” her father said as she went into his open arms. “Come, now, the both of ye, sit and finish yer crying.” Although he attempted to be stern, his voice was thick with emotion.
“My bairns. Ye must meet them,” Ileana said, turning to Lily. “This…” She tugged Lily forward. “…is my dear friend Lily Barrington.”
They made their way to the chairs before the hearth. “Ye must stay through winter. Soon it will be too hard to travel.”
Her parents laughed, as they’d already decided to remain for the season.
The addition of her parents was enough to help Ileana’s sadness at Dorian not meeting his daughter ebb. Her mother was more than happy to spend the days with her. Her father on the other hand spent his days accompanying Connor doing whatever was needed.
When the day arrived for them to leave, Ileana and her mother cried only to be comforted when her father promised they would return soon.
Spring brought with it green grasses and longer days meaning Ileana and her children could spend more time outdoors.
Gregor, the perfect older brother proved patient when sitting in the sunlight with
his sister in the garden. Lily and Connor’s new son remained indoors asleep.
Ileana sat near the children on a blanket with Lily enjoying a reprieve from household duties and long days indoors.
“I do believe ye are holding a secret,” Ileana said, studying Lily. “Do not tell me ye are with bairn again.”
Lily gasped. “Keep those words to yerself. I would like more time to allow Alistair time to grow before caring for another young one.”
“Then what is it?”
“Fine, I will tell ye, but only because it will become apparent.” Lily smiled widely. “We’ve invited the townspeople for a great feast in yer honor two days hence.”
Ileana’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth and closed it. Finally, she could utter the question. “Why?”
“Tis a celebration of yer birthday. And besides we’ve yet to present the new one to them.”
Lily became animated. “We will roast two boars. There will be music and dancing.” She practically swooned. “It will be grand.”
“Our first celebration. The people need it after the harshness of winter. I approve.”
With an incredulous expression, Lily gasped. “Tis not for them, but for ye. Ye deserve it. For all ye do for them, tis a good thing to be honored, ye know?”
Just a couple days later, tents were lifted and bonfire wood piled in the courtyard to help those that were to spend the night there. Soon, people began arriving, many with gifts for Ileana. The aroma of the meat on huge spits filled the air along with the sounds of lively conversation and music.
There were three troupes that took turns playing in the courtyard and indoors, the music giving everyone opportunity to either sing along or dance. Children ran in circles, weaving around and through groups of adults who gathered to talk and share.
Ileana did her best throughout the day to visit with as many as she could from the first day to the next. By the third day of festivities, she was utterly exhausted.
On the eve of the third day, the last meal was served and, much to everyone’s delight, the cook made cakes. The sweets were shared, adding to the festive mood of that final night.
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