Look if the moon shows her face tae us?
Or if the west wind blows unchangingly.
Of the boat can cross the waves tonight,
Prow tae ocean stern tae safe land here,
One sea dark blue, where surge lips gape away.
On another day, the lyrics would have made him smile—they would have brought him comfort, knowing he was surrounded by his brothers. However, today they held little joy.
Ye’re an idiot, he thought. A lovesick fool who dinnae deserve her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Loch Carron, Coast of Argyll
“L AND!” Kent called over the sound of crashing waves.
Valan’s crew groaned as they pulled back on the oars in rhythm. As the wooden paddles splashed into the water, Valan glanced back over the side of the ship to see the rising hills over the crest in the waves.
“We should make camp fer the night,” he told them firmly. “We’ll continue our journey on the morrow once we’ve rested.”
The men murmured their agreement and continued rowing. With every stroke, they pulled the ship closer to the shoreline. The birlinn swayed with a crest in the waves, and the men appeared invigorated by the final stretch in sight. Kent called out to keep the men in unison, and not long after they arrived on the western shore of Loch Carron. Where the waves broke against the shore, Valan and a few of his men jumped out into the water. They gripped the side of the boat and pulled it securely on the coast.
Bridget stood from her seat in the back and watched them curiously while the rest of them disembarked. The crew scattered across the inlet and went about setting up camp, collecting branches to build a fire while others hunted for their supper. Valan approached her with a sigh and said, “Ye’ll be pleased tae ken we’re less than an hour from Castle Strome. We should arrive at the fortress on the morrow.”
“If the castle is so close then why are we stopping here?”
“Because Valan is cautious,” Kent interjected with a grin. “He kens the men are tired, and they need tae rest. If anything goes wrong when we reach the castle, our crew would be too exhausted tae defend themselves.”
“Oh.”
Bridget nodded, though her face was impassive.
“I thought ye would be pleased,” Valan said, a brow arched in annoyance. “Wasn’t coming here exactly what ye wanted?”
“What I want, and what I must do, are two different things.”
Valan huffed as she climbed down over the side of the birlinn. “Aye. Duty comes tae us all I suppose.”
She walked over to where the men were gathered and took a seat on a patch of grass. Valan followed her to the spot on the grass and lay down on it beside her.
“I-I’m conflicted,” she told him quietly. “All my life I kent I was going tae marry a lord my da selected. ’Twas my duty, and I was prepared. My fate was ne’er in question. Yet, now that it’s here, my heart is telling me tae run. I’m having doubts.”
Valan said nothing but watched her quietly as the sun began to set.
“Yer devotion tae yer clan is admirable,” he told her. “I just wish that was nae in conflict with the two of us being together.”
“So dae I.”
While they spoke, the others went about seamlessly converting the sail into a makeshift tent. After lowering it from the mast, the material was turned flat to become a shelter.
They completed the transition just as the sun disappeared over the horizon. A fire crackled in the center of their campsite, and her eyes gleamed brightly in the firelight. Valan and Geoffrey passed out rations to everyone at the campfire, and even found a jug of ale.
“We’ll keep watch in shifts,” Valan informed them. “I dinnae like the idea of being unguarded.”
Niall and a few others nodded. “I’ll take first shift, Captain.”
The rest murmured in agreement, splitting the night into sections so they would all have an equal turn. After eating their fill, many of them went to sleep. Some collapsed wherever they were already seated, while others found patches of earth. Before long, it was just him and Bridget that remained.
She looked down and tugged nervously on the skirts of her gown.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. I’m just nervous about what tomorrow will bring.”
Valan reached out to place his hand on top of hers and said, “Dinnae be. Ye’re stronger, and more powerful than ye ken—be bold.”
She gazed up at him and smiled. “Bold?”
“Aye, just like ye were always born tae be. Almost anyone else in yer position would have taken the easy choice. Instead, ye choose tae stand by yer conviction. Ye’ve come too far tae doubt yerself now.”
Her eyes misted when he finished speaking, and her lip quivered. “Thank ye.”
Valan nodded.
“Is it wrong of me tae want something different?” she asked. “Tae want more fer myself?”
He sighed and looked away from her. He felt the heat of her body, the warmth of her breath against his skin, and his heart quickened. “I have nae idea. I’ve been wanting many things I shouldn’t the past few weeks, it dinnae stop my heart from yearning.”
As they stared at one another the world around them began to fade away, and it was just the two of them. The moment dragged on for what felt like an awfully long time, but he could not seem to pull himself away. How could he possibly let her go?
Eventually, Valan cleared his throat and turned back toward the fire. “We should get some rest. It’s been a long day.”
Bridget nodded, going to find a place for herself underneath the make-shift tent. Only when she had gone did he retire to the ship and find solace in settling in for the night. He rested his head against the side of the boat and closed his eyes.
Of course that would be his lot in life. The first woman he ever loved, and the first one he couldn’t have.
Little by little he drifted off to sleep.
B ridget woke up the next morning shivering on the floor of the wooden boat.
A cloak wrapped around her like a blanket and her back was sore from sleeping on the unyielding surface. She groaned while sitting up between the benches and witnessed the crew packed in and curled up wherever they could fit.
A few of them stirred in the morning light and Geoffrey was already on the shoreline, throwing out a net to catch some fish. Her eyes drifted to where Valan slept at the head of the ship and her eyes softened. Valan’s head loped over to the side, with his dark brown hair perfectly askew, and his eyes closed in sleep. Along his chiseled jaw, was the shadow of a beard. She’d seen him sleeping many times before, and it always brought her pleasure.
He was the picture of serenity.
As her gaze lingered on his face, Bridget recalled their kiss. She remembered the feel of his lips and hands as he held her, and suddenly Bridget’s cheeks felt hot. His strong, capable, hands that held her close and set her skin aflame…
Stop it, she commanded.
Unwillingly, Bridget forced herself to look away and climbed out to attend the campfire. Iain glanced up at her while adding kindling to the fading embers and said, “Good morrow, Bridget.”
“Good morrow, Iain. Thank ye fer tending the fire so diligently, ’tis freezing!”
He nodded dismissively, and Bridget took a seat on the ground, reaching out to warm her hands. Slowly, the men around them began to wake. Geoffrey came back with a net of fish and they cooked them over the open flames.
The wind rolled off the wet sand through the campsite and Bridget shivered. She pulled the material of her shawl around her tightly and looked down at the meal in front of her. Not long after, Valan came down from the ship and joined them at the campfire. Her heartbeat quickened when he glanced in her direction and looked away embarrassed.
Dinnae torture yerself about what cannae be, she told herself.
“Good morrow, Captain.”
Valan bobbed his head in response. “Good morrow, lads. We should nae linger on the shore any longe
r than we have tae. We’re here tae deliver Bridget, and then be on our way.”
The men grumbled their acknowledgment. When they finished eating, Niall put out the fire while the rest of them started putting the sail back in its place. Bridget stood back and watched them secure it to the mast. It was a most unusual practice; she’d never heard of a sail being used as shelter before. However, it made sense considering how often they were at sea.
Valan walked up beside her quietly while the others boarded. She felt the urge to say something, to make the hurt go away, but the words escaped her.
Kent called down to them from the rudder and said, “Captain, the ship is ready. We should be heading off.”
Valan’s eyes flickered to Bridget at the suggestion, saying, “Aye. Come, Bridget. Let’s be off.”
She felt a pang of hurt as he walked by her, trudging directly to the birlinn and climbing up onto the deck. Valan gestured for her to follow, and she did, taking his strong, calloused hand so he could pull her up onto the deck.
One by one, the men took their places at the oars and Valan called to them in a booming voice. “All together, men. ROW!”
They all pulled together, and the force of their oars caused the ship to sway, guiding them out into the water. The crew’s movements were fluid and perfectly synchronized. As they traveled up the loch, Bridget glanced over to Valan. He stood at the bow of the ship staring straight ahead, keeping watch for what lay beyond. Her hands trembled, and she didn’t know if it was fear, excitement, or a sob trying to break free.
She felt overwhelmed and in disbelief this was really happening.
When Castle Strome came into view, the crew cheered. The dark tower of the keep overlooked the loch from the top of a hill on the water’s edge. It was an impressive fortress, positioned strategically to prevent assault.
The MacNeils rowed up to the wooden dock and Valan stepped out onto the pier.
He was approached by two guards, each wearing the colors of Clan MacDonnell. “Who are ye, and what brings ye tae our shores?” one of them asked.
Valan grinned, resting his hand on the hilt of his blade and saying, “Captain Valan MacNeil. I’ve come tae deliver Lady Bridget MacKay, who is betrothed tae yer lord.”
At the mention of her name and title, the MacNeils whispered among themselves. The guards glanced at one another curiously and told him, “Lady Bridget is dead. We received word of her ship being attacked by pirates weeks ago.”
Bridget stood up and made her way over to the dock, saying, “I am Lady Bridget MacKay. It’s true, my ship was attacked by pirates, but these men saved me.”
The moment she became visible, the guards bowed to her. “Lady! Forgive us, we did nae recognize ye.”
She nodded, trying to summon a level of pleasantness. Bridget could understand their confusion, especially considering she was no longer dressed as a noble lady. She turned to them and said, “I regret that my arrival was somewhat delayed, but I am here now. I fully intend tae make good on the promise of marriage. Go and tell Laird Rodrick MacDonnell that I am here. I’m sure he’ll want tae ken I’m safe.”
The guard bowed to her once again and then retreated down the pier toward the castle.
“Ye have some bloody cheek,” Iain told the captain bitterly. “Ye should have told us who she was.”
“I told ye what ye needed tae ken,” Valan informed them.
Kent scoffed, walking up to him and saying, “Ye’ve put us in a dangerous position, Captain. They have a right tae be angry.”
Bridget tensed, walking up beside Valan defensibly and looked back toward the crew. “All will be well,” she assured them. “My lord will pay ye handsomely—I’ll make sure of it. As fer nae telling ye the truth, the blame is mine. I dinnae tell Valan either until a few days ago. I feared if anyone knew Laird MacNeil would try tae ransom me tae my brother.”
“And why not?” Geoffrey spat. “We had a right tae make that decision fer ourselves. At least we would have been prepared.”
Bridget swallowed the lump in her throat and looked him in the eyes. “Would ye truly have preferred that? Ye men saved my life, and I owe ye so much more than coin—I love ye men like brothers. I pray that ye’ll forgive my secrecy, but I thought ’twas the only way tae ensure my safety.”
Geoffrey’s eyes softened.
She cleared her throat again. “Dinnae be angry with Valan, be angry at me. I’m the one who kept my identity a secret.”
While she spoke, an entourage of guardsmen walked down from the castle. Valan, Kent and Iain watched them cautiously as they stepped out of the boat and secured it to a post. Bridget glanced over to Valan to bolster courage and stepped out of the boat herself and made her way across the pier. Valan must have seen what she was doing and quickened his pace to join her. Together, they approached the group of warriors and Laird MacDonnell walked out in front of them on the grass. “Bridget, my love. How pleased I am to hear of yer…remarkable recovery.” As he looked her over, Rodrick’s expression fell. “I see ye’re wearing peasants’ clothes. We’ll have to see that remedied immediately.” Turning to Valan, he said, “Ye must be Captain MacNeil, I presume.”
The captain nodded, though Bridget could feel the tension resonating off of him. “Ye would be correct.”
Rodrick smiled thinly. “When I heard of Bridget’s ship being attacked by pirates I was beside myself with grief. The fact that she survived is nothing short of a miracle.”
She swallowed a lump rising in her throat. “’Twas indeed miraculous, and I have these fine men tae thank fer it. Now that I am here, I look forward tae our wedding ceremony.”
The laird grimaced. “Shall we go inside? I’d be fascinated tae hear about yer travels and what happened on yer journey.”
Bridget and Valan glanced at one another before following him and the guard up the path. Once they arrived at the castle gates, a portcullis entryway lowered to let them pass. Sunlight filled the courtyard in a dull, gray hue and the men and women working there watched them both suspiciously.
Rodrick turned to Bridget and said, “Lady, ye must be tired. Allow my servants tae attend ye so ye can eat and rest. I would have words with yer escort privately.”
She stuttered and said, “Er…very well.”
Laird MacDonnell spoke to the maids, telling them, “See if ye can find Lady Bridget some acceptable clothes. I’ll be with her presently.”
Three of her ladies maids ushered her from the courtyard to a side corridor. Bridget glanced over her shoulder to get one last look of the man she loved. Her heart ached when their eyes met for a final time across the courtyard, wondering if it would be the last time she ever saw him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Castle Strome, Coast of Loch Carron
V alan cleared his throat as he watched Bridget leave before realizing the laird and his men were still waiting. He collected himself and turned back to Laird MacDonnell. The man stared at him unblinkingly, with his face impassive. “Come along, Captain. I’ll have refreshments brought tae the solar while ye tell me about yer journey.”
Valan glanced back to his crew and frowned. “And what about my men?”
“Dinnae fash yerself about that. My men will see tae them.”
Kent cast a wary glance in his direction but nodded in agreement. Without good reason to refuse, Valan’s hands were tied. He could not deny the hospitality offered without insulting them, so he nodded. Rodrick motioned for him to follow and then led him down a hall in the opposite direction Bridget had been escorted to. Valan followed the laird up a narrow stairwell to the parapet above before arriving at the castle solar. He noticed two guards following them and it set his teeth on edge. He didn’t appreciate the high level of security; that usually meant something was amiss.
In fact, Valan hadn’t felt safe since they arrived at the castle. There was something odd happening that he couldn’t put his finger on. Something wasn’t right.
Once they arrived at the private chamber, the laird
went inside. Valan was about to follow when the guard held out his hand to stop him.
“Yer weapon, Captain.”
Valan snapped his head around in surprise, but the man’s face held no hint of humor. Begrudgingly, he removed the rapier from his belt and handed it to the guard.
The man smiled tensely in appreciation. “Thank ye. We cannae be tae careful.”
Valan frowned at him, trying to ignore the knot growing steadily tighter in his stomach, and went inside. Laird MacDonnell waited patiently in one of the chairs and smiled at him.
“My apologies fer the precaution. Harold is always looking out fer my wellbeing.”
“Of course.”
“So, ye’ve managed tae return my bride tae be…a most unusual chain of events I’m sure. How ever did ye manage tae come across her ship? A captain like yerself in the vast blue ocean, what are the odds ye’d be in the right place at the right time? It must have been a stroke of luck.”
Valan narrowed his eyes, saying, “Aye, it must have been.”
He didn’t like the laird’s accusing tone, or his thinly veiled hostility. The man reeked of moral ambiguity.
Rodrick met his gaze as a challenge from across the room. “One hardly expects a pirate tae be a man of honor,” he stated coolly. “Or tae be escorting lasses out of the goodness of their hearts.”
Valan tensed and set his jaw suspiciously.
Rodrick chuckled in amusement. “Come now, everyone kens how Clan MacNeil makes their gold. Ye savage the open seas and raid any passing vessel ye can find. Yer reputation as pirates is well kent throughout our land, so it’s useless pretending.”
Valan frowned, choosing his next words carefully. “Regardless of what ye may have heard, my crew and I live by a code of honor. We only wish tae see the lady safe. Bridget asked us tae bring her here, and now we have. With her properly settled, my crew and I will be on our way.”
He turned back toward the door so he could leave, but Rodrick stopped him, saying, “And I suppose ye’re wanting a bit of coin fer yer trouble?”
Rescued by Valan (The Pirates of Barra: Highland Raiders) Page 14
