Black Raven's Lady: Highland Lairds Trilogy (5 page)

Thankfully, not one of the sailors listening gave so much as a snicker.

“You’re a vile, evil man, Keir MacNeil,” she whispered. “I regret the day I came aboard your ship. And now with your permission, I’ll retire to my cabin,” she added, remembering too late that she couldn’t turn and leave with a regal swish of her skirts. Not when she was clad in boy’s clothes.

“An excellent idea,” Keir retorted. “And Barrows here will escort you.”

Raine didn’t wait for the gray-haired bosun’s mate. She drew her dignity around her like a protective cloak and walked quickly past the gaping crew, with the surprised Barrows hurrying to catch up.

Keir watched Raine retreat with all the composure she could muster, her slender figure, attired in the loose sailor’s clothing, straight and taut as a pikestaff.

When had there ever been such an aggravating female? He had to admit, however, few women would’ve had the courage to stand up to a battle-hardened privateer—and a MacNeil clan chief, at that.

A picture of Mariota rose before him. The one and only time he’d spoken to the maid of Strathfillan, she’d hung her head, too ill at ease to speak above a whisper. In spite of her reticence, he’d been certain she’d fit his requirements in a wife. Namely, he’d never fall in love with her, nor she with him.

A burgeoning doubt regarding the wisdom of that decision appeared like an unmapped sandbar in an otherwise welcoming harbor. He shook his head, wiping the image away. He’d made his decision, and by God, he’d stick to it.

Chapter 4

F
OUR DAYS OUT
of Inverness the three warships reached the Pentland Firth, which ran between the northernmost tip of the Scottish mainland and the southern end of the Orkney Islands. They’d made acceptable, though not excellent, time. The weather had held, with a steady wind filling the sails and a few clouds scudding across the bluest of skies. Every afternoon the ships would take time for gunnery practice, shooting the eighteen-pounders at empty barrels, until the sky darkened with the soot of gunpowder and the air hung heavy with the stench of sulphur.

At their present latitude, the June days were long and filled with sunshine. The night sky grew blacker than Hades, the stars, brilliant lanterns in the heavens.

To Keir’s pleasant surprise, Raine didn’t hold on to her anger over their open confrontation in front of the crew. Unlike some gently bred members of the weaker sex, she didn’t appear to nurse feelings of ill treatment while at the same time plotting to repay the offending male in kind. Nor did she descend into the cowardly tactic of aloof silence. She’d apologized for climbing up into the rigging without permission and promised never to do it again.

While on deck, Raine visited with the men on watch and happily shared her meals in the captain’s cabin with whomever Keir invited to join them.

When he offered to take Raine up into the rigging that fourth morning, she accepted with an eager smile. He followed directly behind her, ready to catch her should she have a misstep. They sat on a crosstree on either side of the mainmast, enjoying the magnificent view.

“I’ve been wondering,” Keir said, keeping his tone pleasant and even, “how you managed to leave Inverloch Castle. I’d asked Laird MacSween to watch over you until your family came to fetch you home.”

Raine peeked around the mast to meet his gaze, then turned to look out across the waves. “To tell the truth, I left the castle before you did. I told Lady MacSween that I’d forgotten something in my satchel. When I entered the stable, I found the groom hadn’t yet unsaddled my horse. ’Twas no trouble at all to simply ride back the way we came. Naturally, I cautioned the stablemen not to mention I’d left, indicating I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“How clever of you,” he said with grudging admiration.

She peeked around the mast once again, her dark eyes sparkling with merriment. She wrinkled her nose impishly. “I thought so.”

Keir felt the rush of sensual longing he’d stomped on like a too-short fuse lit by mistake. A longing that kept flickering back to life despite his best efforts to smother it out completely.

“And so,” Raine continued, clearly unaware of his lecherous urges, “I reached the
Sea Hawk
well before you boarded the
Black Raven.
And when Colin learned about the impending birth of my cousin’s child, he graciously agreed to take me with him to the Isle of Lewis.”

Keir gave a snort of disbelief. “Why is it I feel there’s something you’re not telling me, Raine?”

Her eyes widened at the accusation. “When have I ever lied to you, Keir?”

“I’m asking myself the same question.”

She gave a nervous little laugh. “And have you determined the answer?”

“Not yet. But I will,” he promised.

When it came time to descend, Keir went first, careful to touch her as little as possible.

That afternoon Keir stood on the quarterdeck, keeping an eye on the close-hauled sails above them, when he noticed Raine and Barrows coming up the companionway. Still dressed in sailor’s attire, she’d plaited her hip-long hair in one thick braid, letting it fall down her back. She looked much younger than her nineteen years.

“Full and by the wind, Mr. Buchanan,” Keir told the officer of the watch before moving across the deck to meet Raine and her gray-haired sea-daddy.

With a slight tilt of his head, Keir dismissed Barrows, who’d been shadowing the headstrong lassie exactly as he’d been instructed. The bosun’s mate touched the knuckle of his forefinger to his brow in recognition of his captain’s silent order and retreated to wait amidships. Still in view should he be needed, but well out of hearing range for ordinary conversation.

The relief on the able seaman’s weathered face at handing over his responsibility, if only for a short while, didn’t surprise Keir.

In fact, Keir had the distinct feeling that he, himself, was one of the few men in Scotland who could exert some measure of control over Raine Cameron.

Not that he’d ever lay a hand on her in anger.

Macraith had been right about that. But Keir couldn’t think of another man whose force of will or sheer dominating presence could intimidate the plucky female. Or even slow her down, once she decided on a course of action. Including attending the birth of her cousin’s baby.

“Will you show me how you measure the ship’s position, Laird MacNeil?” Raine asked, her aura of self-sufficiency only slightly diminished by their conversation earlier when he’d all but accused her of lying.

Recognizing a request for a truce when he heard one, Keir smiled warmly. “I’ll be delighted to show you how I use the astrolabe, Lady Raine. But first you need to be familiar with the major constellations.”

“I began studying astronomy with my father when I was thirteen,” she replied, “but Papa was killed before I’d had the chance to make any real progress.”

The smothered pain in her voice was barely discernible, but Keir recognized her unspoken sorrow. Gideon had been defending his wife’s honor when he’d been murdered—struck from behind by a coward.

Lady Nina Cameron had been the target of gossip about her daughter’s parentage, for Raine had been born a black-haired, black-eyed child in a family of pale-eyed blonds.

In the Highlands and Isles, the Celtic belief remained strong that the Tuatha De Danann, motivated by love, would take someone exceptionally beautiful with them to the Otherworld. Superstitious people whispered that Raine had been sired by a black-haired elf prince. Some were ignorant enough to claim that the lassie was part faery and possessed magical powers. Others believed she had the second sight.

Keir and his two brothers had stood in the kitchen of Archnacarry Manor and pledged on Gideon Cameron’s decapitated head to find the murderer and bring him to justice. At that same moment, the protection of Raine and her mother had become not only Alex Cameron’s responsibility, but the three half brothers’ as well. ’Twas a duty none of them had ever taken lightly.

Keir chucked Raine under her chin in a silent gesture of consolation. “Meet me this evening on the quarterdeck, and we’ll begin your lessons.”

“Thank you, Keir,” she said, a heartfelt smile lighting up her face. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

Darling lass.

T
HAT NIGHT
K
EIR
stood directly behind Raine on the starboard side of the quarterdeck, teaching her to recognize the constellations. He’d been correct when he’d told Macraith she’d brains enough for two females. She was the brightest woman he’d ever known. And that included his wise and perceptive mother, Lady Emma.

“Now over there,” he told Raine, “you can clearly make out Ursa Major.” He put his hands on her shoulders, turning her slightly, and pointed to a group of stars almost directly above them.

Her face uplifted, she smiled in recognition. “Ah, yes,” she said, scarcely above a whisper. “Papa taught me about the Great Bear stalking across the night sky.”

“ ’Tis also known as the Plough,” Keir explained, “because of the shape made by its seven brightest stars. The two stars at the front of the Plough’s blade are called the Pointers. Do you see them?”

“I do,” she said, nodding happily.

Keir glanced down at Raine, her delicate features as close to perfection as any he’d ever seen. Her skin glowed flawless in the pale light of the crescent moon.

He resumed the lesson, determined to resist the effect of her tantalizing nearness upon him. “A line drawn through the Pointers leads directly to Polaris,” he continued, tracing the imaginary marking above them with his index finger. “The Pole Star lies only one degree from the north celestial pole—a mariner’s guidepost in the night sky, so to speak.” He paused and looked down to meet her inquisitive gaze. “Am I boring you with too much information?”

“Oh, no,” she declared. “I find it fascinating.”

Keir shared her feeling of fascination, but that night it wasn’t with the stars. He fought the urge to trace the line of her smooth forehead down her dainty nose to her soft mouth. To brush his finger over her full bottom lip, across the edge of her teeth, and touch the tip of her pink tongue.

He knew, without a doubt, how shocked and repulsed she’d be by such familiarity—and her feeling of utter betrayal by someone who was supposed to be a trusted family friend. A friend she had known from childhood.

“Did you know that the constellations were named by the Greeks?” he asked, fighting his way through the fog of lust that enveloped him. “And each one has its own mythological tale.”

During Raine’s lesson with Keir, Abid al-Rahman, the ship’s Moorish navigator, gave instructions in the use of the astrolabe on the forecastle deck. His two students, Ethan and Robbie Gibson, had been fostered to Keir the previous spring. The boys’ father was a MacNeil kinsman who’d entrusted their training to Keir and his uncle to prepare them for a life on the sea.

Suddenly the two ship’s boys were standing at Raine’s elbow, looking up at the stars with them. “Ask the captain to tell you the story of the Great Bear,” Robbie suggested. The ten-year-old had a thatch of bright red hair above a round face, liberally sprinkled with freckles.

“Pray tell me, Captain MacNeil,” Raine said with a laugh of bell-like purity. “What is the story of the Great Bear?”

Al-Rahman had followed the Gibson brothers from the forecastle, ready to pull them back at a signal from Keir. The starboard side of the quarterdeck was the sole domain of the ship’s captain.

“Forgive us for the interruption, sir,” the Moor said. “I’d released the young gentlemen to their quarters. They must have been drawn by the presence of the lovely lady.”

Keir was well aware of the audience scrutinizing his every move. ’Twas no accident the entire night watch had managed to creep within hearing distance. Two look-outs hung in the rigging above Keir and Raine, perilously close over their heads.

Stifling a grin, Keir resumed his lesson. “Ursa Major is associated with the huntress, Callisto, a favorite of Artemis, the goddess of hunting,” he told Raine. “One day Zeus assumed the guise of Artemis and lay with Callisto.”

“Zeus is the strongest of the gods,” Ethan interjected in an attempt to be helpful. Two years older than his brother, he had dark auburn hair and a faint splash of freckles on his nose. “Zeus can tell all the others what to do.”

“Like our captain,” Robbie added proudly.

“Oh, I see,” Raine said, nodding to show she understood. She glanced at Keir, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

Despite her hilarity, Keir returned to the lesson. “Callisto bore Zeus’ son, Arcas. But Hera, the wife of Zeus, became jealous and turned Callisto into a bear.”

“Two women fighting over Zeus,” Robbie pointed out, “just like—”

“Shh,” Ethan hissed, as he clamped his hand over his younger brother’s mouth.

Keir frowned at the two and prayed the remark went over Raine’s innocent head. “Then Zeus placed Callisto in the heavens as the Great Bear to prevent her from being accidentally killed by a hunter.” He turned to his navigator. “And now, Mr. al-Rahman, if you’ve finished the evening’s lessons, you can release the midshipmen to their quarters.”

The three immediately withdrew, retreating down the steps to the main deck and disappearing into a companionway.

Her dark eyes flashing in the moonlight, Raine met Keir’s gaze. “Whenever did you learn about Greek mythology?” she asked. “Not in your days as a privateer, I should think.”

Keir grinned at her open astonishment. “Contrary to court gossip, Lady Raine, I didn’t spend all my time at the university in Paris drinking and gambling. Just a great deal of it.”

“When will you teach me how to use the astrolabe?” she persisted.

Assuming the mien of a disapproving professor, he frowned at her. “You’ll need to recognize more than one constellation, lass, before you can do that.”

She laughed outright at his tone of condescension. “You doubt I could learn? Indulge my curiosity, if you please. I’d like to know how you chart our course across the unmarked ocean.”

“Navigation requires a great deal of mathematical calculations,” he hedged. “I’m afraid you’d find it all very boring.”

“Still you could explain what you’re doing the next time you plot the ship’s course. I might not understand everything, but perhaps I could follow a bit of it.” She wrinkled her nose mischievously. “After all, you agreed with Macraith that I am a lass o’ parts,” she reminded him.

“Aye, I did,” Keir agreed. “But my uncle would make a better tutor than me. Macraith has far more patience with impetuous halflins.” At her look of disappointment, he added impulsively, “We could try one morning and see how well you like it. You’re free to tell me, if it becomes tedious.”

Too late Keir realized he’d just made a serious misstep. In his attempt to please her, he had committed himself to spending time with Raine in the confined space of his cabin. Naturally, either Macraith or Barrows or both would be right at their side. He’d damn well see to it.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
Raine stood at the bow of the ship, looking out over the waves. The crisp air fanned her cheeks and tickled her nose with the tangy scent of salt water. She closed her lids and lifted her face toward the cerulean sky, enjoying the sensation of moving across the living sea. A sea that teemed with fish and dolphins, while gannets and gulls soared overhead.

When she opened her eyes, Keir stood beside her.

“ ’Tis bonny in the morning,” he said with a grin of understanding.

She nodded. “It seems so peaceful with only the
Hawk
and the
Dragon
in sight. It’s hard to believe that somewhere men are planning to wage war.”