Black Raven's Lady: Highland Lairds Trilogy (4 page)

Raine lifted her delicate brows, her jet eyes sparkling with laughter. “Well, then,” she said, “let’s hope the laird of Clan MacNeil has offered his affections to a young lady in her right mind.”

“I didn’t say my affections were in any way engaged,” he replied with an indifferent shrug. “I offered for her hand in marriage. Nothing more.” He stopped short, realizing she’d been teasing him in their old familiar way.

Keir was all too aware Raine had been hopelessly infatuated with his handsome brother, Lachlan.
Hopeless
being the key word, for as fate would have it, Lachlan was now a married man, deeply in love with his exquisite wife and devoted to their children. It must have been quite a shock to Raine when he returned to Scotland with his pregnant Sassenach mistress.

No doubt, Raine’s unrequited passion was the real reason she fancied she’d never marry. For what female would be satisfied to spend her life casting spells and claiming to see visions?

When the meal was over, Lady Raine excused herself to return to her cabin. Keir and Macraith moved to the chart table to plot the ship’s course through the North Sea.

“ ’Tis strange you never mentioned Duncan Stewart is presently negotiating your marriage,” Macraith commented in a low, offhand tone.

Keir kept his head bent over the map, refusing to meet his uncle’s inquisitive gaze. “You may be second in command of the
Raven
, but I’m not obliged to keep you informed of my personal matters.”

“Och, man,” Macraith replied with a chuckle, “I never meant to say you were. But indulge my prying nature, laddie. Who’s the fair lady that’s so beguiled you?”

Keir laid his quill pen down on his sheets of calculations. “I thought we covered that subject at supper.”

He was deeply attached to his uncle. Macraith was the younger brother of Keir’s deceased father. Ruaidh Athaeuch MacNeil, otherwise known as the Black Beast of Barra, had been slain on the battlefield when Keir was only seven. In the years that followed, it had been noted by many that Keir was the very spirit and image of his ruthless sire. Early on, he’d been labeled the Black Beast’s Spawn.

Lady Emma MacNeil, after the death of her third husband, immediately moved her household from Kisimuth Castle on the Isle of Barra to her brother’s home at Stalcaire in the Highlands.

Macraith had visited Keir often in those early years, strengthening the bond of love between uncle and nephew that had begun at his birth. At ten years old, Keir had been fostered to the king’s admiral, Sir Anthony Wood, who took him to sea. Macraith had sailed with them, teaching Keir the lore and love of sailing. When Keir launched his own ship, the
Black Raven
, Macraith sailed with him as his second in command. They’d protected each other in battle and rejoiced in their mutual successes as the king’s privateers.

“Nay, not completely,” Macraith remarked with a grin. “You never did mention the name of that comely lass who’s stolen your heart.”

“Stolen my heart!” Keir repeated with an ironic laugh. “Don’t be a fool. Negotiating a marriage contract doesn’t mean my affections are engaged, and you damn well know it. When two wealthy families merge, the primary issue is the assets each party brings to the alliance.”

Macraith shook his head, setting his narrow side-braids swinging gently. “Don’t sell yourself short, lad. You deserve a wife who fancies you. One who’ll dote upon the children you’ll give her.”

“A dutiful wife will respect my authority,” Keir responded, keeping his irritation in check. “It’ll be her goddamn duty to respect me.”

“Ah, I see,” his uncle replied. “And what about you? Are you fond of the lass in question? Whoever the hell this mysterious lassie may be?”

“There’s nothing mysterious about her. If you must know, I’ve instructed Duncan to enter into negotiations with Laird Fillan MacNab for the hand of his daughter, Mariota.”

“The maid of Strathfillan? Jesus, lad! You can’t be serious!”

“And why not?” Keir retorted. “She’s young and healthy and bonny enough. There’s nothing to indicate she won’t be a fruitful wife and a devoted mother.”

Macraith sat back on the high stool beside the map table. He scrubbed his large hand over his beard plaited with beads and eyed his nephew with a look of dubious speculation. “And have you ever spoken more than two words to the lass, I ask you?”

“Oh, aye,” Keir said, unable to conceal a grin at his uncle’s astute remark. “I’ll admit Mariota is as timid and quiet as a wee mouse. She’ll have no trouble living up to the lines in her wedding vows when she pledges to be meek and mild in bed and at board.”

“And that’s what you want?” Macraith asked in disbelief. “A wife who’s afraid to speak up and tell you what’s on her mind? A female so docile she’ll marry whichever man her father chooses without so much as a whimper of protest?”

“Am I such a bad bargain then?” Keir demanded, finally losing his patience. “Must a maid be forced to marry—”

They were interrupted when Barrows appeared in the cabin’s open doorway.

“Beg pardon, sir,” he said, stopping just outside the threshold.

Keir and Macraith looked over to see the able seaman’s weathered face blanched with fear.

“What is it?” Keir asked.

“Best come up on deck at once, if it please ye, sir,” Barrows answered. He pointed his crooked index finger toward the cabin’s low ceiling. “The lassie’s up in the riggin’ with the ship’s boys. We just looked up and saw her there. One minute she was standin’ by the larboard rail, the next she’d disappeared. Nobody even seen her climbin’. We don’t ken what to do. We’re afeared to go up there to fetch her, lest we startle her into fallin’.”

Throwing down his compass, Keir dashed past the worried bosun’s mate and hurried up the companionway. Macraith followed close at his heels.

On deck the morning watch stood bunched together, staring upward in mutual horror at the mainmast.

Following their line of sight, Keir spotted Raine perched on an upper crosstree, one arm wrapped about the mast. Dressed in a sailor’s loose shirt and breeches, she appeared to be engrossed in the view of the ocean, unaware of her terrified audience below.

Ethan and Robbie Gibson sat on a yardarm close by, their young faces creased with worry. She must have followed them into the rigging. Frightened for her sake, they sat absolutely still, praying, no doubt, that they wouldn’t be blamed should she fall.

Keir held his hand up, signaling the crew to stay silent. “Keep the men absolutely quiet,” he told Macraith.

His heart smashing against his ribs, Keir started the climb. He prayed to God Raine wouldn’t look down and suddenly realize the incredible danger she was in.

Keir made his way up the rigging as soundlessly as possible, then pulled himself onto the crosstree where she was perched. Without a word, he signaled the lads to descend. Smiling in relief, Ethan and Robbie slid quickly down the ropes to join the other sailors on the main deck.

Raine gave Keir a welcoming smile. “Oh, you’ve come to join me.” The sea breeze had pulled soft tendrils from her braided hair, framing her face in an ebony cloud.

“I have,” he replied in a calm tone. He longed to throttle her for putting herself in such terrible danger. Even as a youngster, she’d been fearless.

“You seem a little out of breath,” she said on a note of surprise.

Seated on the other side of the mast, he forced a smile. His heartbeat had slowed till it was almost back to normal, but she wasn’t out of danger yet. He’d get her safely down before he ripped into her.

“What are you doing up here?” he asked conversationally. He fought the urge to catch hold of her wrist. Any sudden move could mean disaster.

She peeked around the mainmast, her eyes dancing with happiness at her latest exploit. “I’d been watching the lads scamper up and down the ropes. I became curious to discover what could be seen from such a great height.” She looked around and released a long, slow breath of wonderment. “ ’Tis truly beautiful. This ship. The ocean. The
Hawk
and
Dragon
sailing so close by. I could stay up here all morning.”

“It’s time to get down now,” Keir said, still keeping his voice steady and even. “On board a privateer, you need always ask permission before going aloft. Otherwise there’d be too much confusion.”

She turned her questioning gaze on him, skepticism in her eyes. “I didn’t notice anyone else asking permission. Not even Ethan and Robbie.”

Ignoring her dissent, Keir continued with ruthless determination. “It’s a nautical law, Raine. You can ask any man on board. They’ll verify the truth of what I say. The ship’s boys had their orders this morning.”

She burst out laughing, the sound reminding him of how he’d reacted to her provocative nature that past summer in Edinburgh. A reaction he’d suppressed with ruthless intention in the months since. Christ Almighty, he’d known her presence on the
Raven
would be untenable.

“I’m quite certain,” she said, “that every man will swear to anything you say. But may we have just a few more minutes before we start down? I’d like to admire the extraordinary beauty of it all.” Her gaze implored him to agree.

Keir gave a quick jerk of his chin. “Aye, ’tis quite lovely, isn’t it?”

He glanced out at the ocean and the two warships that sailed alongside the
Raven
in close formation. The sight had always stirred his blood.

But not today.

Rather than admiring the weatherly galleons, he fought the tension that tightened every muscle in his body. The possibility of Raine slipping off her perch kept him ready to grab her instantly.

“We’d best get down now,” he said shortly. “I’ll go first and help you place your feet.” He paused. “By the way, where the devil did you find those clothes? Or did you bring them from Archnacarry?”

“Oh, no, I hadn’t thought of it then,” she replied, patting the knees of her woolen breeches. “I borrowed these from a cabin boy on the
Sea Hawk
. Colin gave me permission to take them.”

“I should have guessed,” he said with a wry grin. “How else could you have found clothes to fit you?”

Keir swung down from the crossbeam, the mass of rigging under his feet going taut beneath his weight. “Once I’m positioned beneath you,” he told her in a stern tone, “hang on to the crosstree with both arms and let your feet dangle loose. I’ll set them on the ropes for you.”

For once Raine didn’t argue with him. She must have sensed from his voice that he’d brook no disobedience on her part. She followed his directions, allowing him to clasp her ankles and position her shoes on the rigging beneath her.

“Don’t look down,” he cautioned. “Keep your gaze straight ahead.”

Astonished by Keir’s gentle touch, Raine allowed him to guide her descent by placing her feet carefully on the ratlines below. She had never imagined that the fierce, sharp-tongued privateer she’d known from her youth could be so gentle. She felt the reassuring presence of his large, muscular body, ready to catch her should she slip and fall. And the nearness of this attentive stranger unnerved her far more than the dizzying height.

As they made their way to the deck below, the crew waited in complete silence, until Raine’s feet were planted firmly on the boards. Then, to a man, they roared a hurrah at her safe return to the deck.

Smiling at their approbation, Raine turned to thank Keir for his help, only to find him glaring at her. His jaw was taut with anger.

“What’s wrong?” she asked warily. She could scarce believe his sudden change in demeanor. But then again, this was Keir’s usual self.

“What’s wrong?” he thundered. “My God, you could have been killed. You could have slipped and fallen to your death!”

But I didn’t,” she said, dismayed at his complete reversal. For a few moments, sitting high on the crossbeam together, they’d seemed to be in neighborly accord as they gazed in quiet appreciation of the beauty around them. “I’m perfectly fine,” she added.

“You’re fine because I brought you safely down.” He turned from her and addressed his uncle, who stood hovering nearby. “Get Barrows over here now.”

“Barrows,” Macraith shouted.

The little man hustled forward, his cap clutched in his blue-veined hands. “Cap’n, sir,” he said.

Keir clasped Raine’s shoulders and turned her to face the wizened seaman. “Jasper Barrows is the
Raven
’s sea-daddy. He’s responsible for the safety of the young midshipmen on board. From now on,” Keir instructed tersely, “Barrows is to stay right beside you whenever you’re on deck. He’ll be responsible to see that you never, ever climb up into the rigging alone again. Is that perfectly clear to you, Lady Raine?”

Raine looked into the older man’s harried blue eyes and felt a rush of mortification. It was clear Barrows felt he’d been given the duty of watching over a recalcitrant child and was none too happy about it.

“I wasn’t up there alone,” Raine protested. “And I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. I don’t need a sea-daddy.”

“Nevertheless,” Keir stated, “you have one now. We assign all new youngsters a veteran seaman to show them the ropes and keep them out of harm’s way. And if you manage to slip away from Barrows and clamber up there by yourself, he’ll be the one I toss overboard.” Keir raised his voice just loud enough to drive the point home. “Do you understand?”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Barrows replied, as though Keir had addressed him, rather than Raine.

“This is preposterous,” Raine stated with a rebellious toss of her head.

Keir rounded on her. “No, it is not preposterous. It’s an order. And on my ship, under my command, you will follow orders or suffer the consequences. If you go up there without me ever again, Raine Cameron, you’ll get the thrashing you deserve.”

Raine straightened her spine and threw back her shoulders, refusing to show just how intimidated she felt. No one had ever threatened her before. Only someone as ill-tempered as Keir MacNeil would dare to do so in front of others.

“And do you intend to flog me before the crew?” she asked.

Something in her question brought an unholy light to his deep green eyes. His low voice reverberated with a sardonic humor. “Nay, lass. I’ll administer your punishment in the privacy of my quarters.”