Black Raven's Lady: Highland Lairds Trilogy (7 page)

He stared at her, a growing awareness of how completely she’d tricked him darkening his gaze. “Then you lied to me from the beginning,” he said in a low, cold tone. “Damn it to hell, Raine, you’ve been lying to me from the moment you arrived in Inverness. Why on God’s earth would you put yourself in such danger for no good reason?”

“Well, you’re wrong there,” she replied, refusing to be cowed by his anger. “I have a very good reason. I simply can’t share it with you.”

“You’ll tell me,” he grated through clenched teeth. “You’ll damn well tell me, Raine Cameron. Or you’ll spend the rest of the voyage locked in your cabin.”

Chapter 5

I
N SPITE OF
Keir’s threat, Raine was allowed above decks to greet Fearchar MacLean and Colin MacRath when they came aboard the
Raven
that afternoon. With them were their seconds in command. Colin’s father, Walter, had sailed with the
Sea Hawk
’s owner and captain, Lachlan MacRath, since the day the galleon had been launched at the shipyards of Dumbarton. Tam MacLean had started as ship’s boy on the
Sea Dragon
when it first put out to sea. Both were experienced sailors as well as loyal kinsmen. Every man wore a sword at his side, a claymore on his back, and a dirk shoved into his belt.

Raine had changed for the occasion from her boy’s garb to a primrose wool gown. She’d wound her long single braid into a coronet on the top of her head. The steady sea breeze tugged wisps loose in front of her ears and the unruly tendrils brushed across her cheeks and got caught in her eyelashes.

“L-lady R-raine,” Colin said, sweeping off his plumed Scottish bonnet. He wore the red-and-black MacRath plaid, and his fiery hair blazed in the sunlight. The young man bowed and kissed her hand with quiet gravity. He leaned back a trace and searched her eyes, as if to reassure himself that he’d made the right decision in sending her over to the
Black Raven.
“You’re l-looking w-well,” he said, pausing to study her further. Waiting, no doubt, to hear her affirm that she had, indeed, not suffered from Keir MacNeil’s well-known temper.

His father, Walter, stood beside him. He bowed to Raine, whom he had first met at Archnacarry Manor when she was a youngster. “Milady,” he said in his deep, gravelly voice. “ ’Tis a pleasure to see you again.” His wide grin, with its chipped front tooth, revealed a good-natured acceptance of the follies of mankind.

Coming to join them, Fearchar flashed his infectious grin. His good eye, the color of a robin’s egg, twinkled merrily. Placing his huge hands around her waist, he lifted Raine off her feet and twirled her in a circle. “My bonny lassie,” he boomed, “you’re brighter than a new-minted penny. Have you learned to chart the
Raven
’s course yet?”

He set Raine back down, bent and kissed her forehead with a noisy smack. He’d known her since she was a toddler, had bounced her on his knee. Each time he and his cousin, Laird Rory MacLean, had come to visit Gideon Cameron at Archnacarry Manor, Fearchar had brought a trinket for Raine from their wide-ranging travels aboard the
Sea Dragon
.

Surprised by her old friend’s astute remark, Raine glanced at Keir, who stood glaring at Colin.

“Aye, nearly so,” Macraith answered for her. “We’re just about to begin Lady Raine’s schooling at sea. The lassie’s meant to be an admiral of the fleet.”

Fearchar gave a crack of laughter. Nearly seven-foot tall, he was a giant of a man with a black patch over the eye he’d lost in battle.

He was the only person Raine had ever met who was larger—and possibly even more ferocious—than Keir MacNeil. Like Keir and Macraith, while at sea, Fearchar wore his long hair in a seaman’s pigtail, along with two narrow side-braids fastened with exotic glass beads.

His kinsman, Tam, had the golden hair of the MacLean clan and their tall, athletic frame. “Lady Raine,” Tam said with a warm, almost flirtatious smile. “What a pleasure to see you again. The sea air agrees with you, I see, for you are fairly blooming, with your rosy cheeks and lovely gown.” Unexpectedly, he reached out and released a tendril of her hair that had snagged on her pearl earring.

The next instant, Keir stood beside her, his hand at her elbow. When she glanced up at him from the corner of her eye, she found him in a staring match with Tam. If she didn’t know better, she’d think The MacNeil was jealous.

But in fact, she did know better.

She’d been present when Keir had declared in front of the entire Scottish court that one bonny lass was much the same as another. ’Twas last summer at the royal wedding in Edinburgh—right after he’d offered to marry Lachlan’s pregnant mistress.

At the present moment, the group gathered around Raine looked more like cutthroat pirates than civilized Scotsmen loyal to one another and their king. But she knew they’d mutually pledged their lives and honor to capture and deliver for trial and subsequent hanging every traitor who’d risen up in rebellion against the Crown. And that included the dishonorable coward who’d deserted her pregnant mother—Raine’s natural father, Torcall MacMurchaidh.

T
HE VISITORS TOOK
over the starboard watch’s mess for the midday meal. ’Twas the only room on the galleon that could accommodate their formidable bulk and give them some elbow room. Even then, the tallest among them couldn’t stand up straight without banging their heads on the low ceiling’s crossbeams.

Seated around the long rectangular table, the six men discussed their war plans while they ate. After the trenchers had been cleared away, Keir spread out a map of the Isle of Lewis.

“The entrance to the harbor is too narrow for us to sail abreast,” he told them, running his fingertip along the waterway shown on the chart. “We’ll have to enter in line formation till we’ve passed Arnish Point.”

“There’ll be guns in position to rake us as we come in,” Fearchar warned. “There’s a cannon emplacement on the point guarding the entrance to the harbor. Three twelve-pounders—iron breech-loaders—with a few men to guard and fire them, if need be. In happier days, Rory and I put in at the Steòrnabhagh shipyard, when the
Dragon
needed repairs.”

“I’d rather not alert the castle of our coming,” Keir replied. “We’ll have to take them out.”

“Aye,” Macraith agreed with a jerk of his chin. He stroked his beaded beard thoughtfully. “We can take a small landing party the night before and spike any guns on the point.”

Fearchar nodded. “The harbor’s deep. Once past the guns, there’s plenty of room for three galleons to maneuver with ease.”

“The
Raven
will go first,” Keir said, tapping the map. “Followed by the
Hawk
and then the
Dragon
. We’ll take up position for broadsides directly in front of the castle, but well out of their range until we can assess the size of their guns.”

“No bigger than fourteen-pounders, I’m certain,” Fearchar interjected. “And none with swivel mounts.”

Keir returned the giant’s smile of satisfaction. Like Fearchar, Keir loved the thrill of battle. “Amongst the three of us, we’ve the firepower of forty-eight long-range eighteen-pounders, plus the lighter pieces on our bows and sterns. Castle Murchaidh should fall in a matter of days.”

“Who’ll take charge of the prisoners?” Tam asked, a look of expectation on his comely face.

“We’re only taking Macdonald and MacMurchaidh back to Edinburgh, plus any rebel chieftains we might find there. The rest we’ll leave at the castle. We’ll divide the felons among us.” Keir turned to Fearchar. “We’ll separate Donald Dubh from The MacMurchaidh. I’m going to entrust Macdonald to you.”

Fearchar smoothed his fingers down his thick beard and grinned. He readjusted the band that held his eye patch and chortled with anticipation. “Forbye, ’twill be a pleasure to clap that pawky bastard usurper in chains and toss him in the
Dragon
’s hold.”

“What about Lady Raine?” Colin blurted out as clear and precise as a town crier proclaiming the news. The handsome redhead only stuttered and stammered around the beautiful ladies. That hadn’t stopped him from gaining a reputation in the boudoir last summer. Thanks to his married Sassenach mistress, his prodigious stamina had been the talk of Edinburgh.

“Lady Raine’s safety is
my
responsibility,” Keir informed him in clear and precise words of his own.

Colin stiffened visibly, and Walter put a warning hand on his son’s shoulder. “Aye, ’tis true enough,” the elder MacRath agreed. “But as you know, we’re all fond of the lassie. We would nay want to think of her caught in the midst of a siege bombardment.”

“She won’t be,” Keir told them curtly. “Several days before we enter the harbor, I’ll send Lady Raine ashore to the tiny village of Sanndabhaig with three able seamen to protect her. There’s no chance she’ll be caught in the fighting.”

“What’s at Sanndabhaig?” Tam asked with a baffled frown.

“Nothing but a few fishermen’s huts,” Keir replied. “She’ll be perfectly safe. We can pick her up on the way back to the Minch.”

“With your permission, sir,” Colin persisted stubbornly, “Lady Raine has asked to return with me to the
Sea Hawk
this afternoon.”

“Permission denied,” Keir snapped.

Beneath his freckles, Colin’s face grew white. He clearly struggled to control his redheaded temper. Like all Highlanders, he had a deep streak of independence and wouldn’t tolerate being treated with contempt.

Fearchar met Keir’s angry gaze, and the amusement lighting the giant’s battle-scarred features brought Keir back from the brink. He glanced across the table at Walter, whose good-natured grin revealed the seasoned warrior’s chipped front tooth. The humiliating awareness that every man at the table now suspected the secret that Keir had kept hidden for the last two years—even from himself—brought him to his feet.

“After the castle falls,” he said, “we sail for Skye. Dismissed.”

R
AINE STOOD AT
the larboard rail and watched the two longboats pull away from the
Raven.
She’d had only a short time to say good-bye to her friends before they disappeared over the side. And only a few brief minutes to speak with Colin alone. When he’d offered his apologies, she hadn’t been the least surprised that Keir had refused permission for her to return to the
Sea Hawk.
She tried to hide her disappointment. She was fully aware that Keir stood on the quarterdeck above, watching them.

“Here,” she said with a halfhearted smile as she handed Colin a faery arrow. “Take this with you. Long ago, tiny arrowheads such as this were used on mortals. The person struck was taken to the dwelling place of the faeries. But now the elf-bolt will shield you from misfortune.”

Colin held the tiny piece of chipped flint on his large calloused palm for a moment, then closed his long fingers over it. He looked up from her offering to meet her gaze. His deep blue eyes shone with quiet understanding. “I—I appreciate y-your concern, L-lady Raine,” he’d told her. Then he’d turned to make his way over the side of the
Raven
.

Now Raine clutched the railing, watching as the two longboats reached their respective ships.

“I think it’s time for our interview now,” Keir said, suddenly standing beside her. He clasped her elbow and led her down the companionway to her small cabin.

Once inside he folded his arms across his chest and glared at her. He didn’t waste a minute getting to the point. “Why did you tell me that cock-and-bull story about a cousin needing your help during childbirth?” he demanded. “And this time, Lady Raine, I’d like to hear the truth. ’Twould be a welcome change, if nothing else.”

Raine hung her head and bit her lip in an attempt to look penitent, while she ransacked her brain for a suitable—and believable—answer.

But Keir was evidently at the end of his patience. At her delaying tactic, he made a sudden move toward her, and for a split second Raine thought he was going to grab her and shake the daylights out of her. Instead he braced both hands on the wooden beam over her head, effectively trapping her without actually touching her. In the cramped space between his massive frame and her bunk, she was forced to tip her head back to meet his eyes, blazing now with what she could only assume was pure rage. Over twice her weight, with a body hewn of solid muscle, he hovered over her, and Raine had the unsettling sensation of being smothered by his overwhelming presence.

Her mouth suddenly dry, she tried to swallow and her throat constricted so painfully tears sprang to her eyes. When she attempted to draw a deep, steadying breath, she made what sounded like a child’s frightened whimper. She all but choked on her humiliation. She wasn’t going to wail like a scared halflin in front of him.

Not Keir, of all people.

She blinked her lashes furiously, making a desperate attempt to stop the tears. She wasn’t some insipid miss, who resorted to crying to get her own way.

Keir watched the crystal drops clinging to Raine’s long black lashes and steeled himself against her utter femininity. He clutched the timber overhead with whitened knuckles, while he beat back the sexual desire coursing through his veins.

He realized too late, he should never have taken Raine into the privacy of her cabin. Not half-crazed with jealousy. Not pulsing with white-hot lust.

He’d reacted to Colin MacRath’s attention to Raine like a possessive suitor. But dammit, the broad-shouldered redhead’s prowess in bed had been the talk of the Scottish court that previous summer. Raine certainly must have heard the clattering tongues gossiping about Colin’s exploits in Lady Diana Pembroke’s bedroom.

“What did you give Colin just now?” Keir growled.

Raine stared at him as though he were mad.

“I saw you give him something before he left,” Keir insisted. “What was it? A love token?”

“Why would you think that?” she said on a tiny hiccup of laughter. “I gave him a faery arrow to protect him. I gave one to Walter as well. In the past I’ve given them to Fearchar and Tam.”

“But never to me.”

“Why would I give one to you?” she asked in obvious bewilderment. Her brilliant eyes widened at the thought. “You don’t believe in magic.”

Bringing his hands down from the beam overhead, Keir stepped back and moved to the door. His gaze swept the room’s Spartan furnishings before meeting her expressive eyes. “You’ll remain here in your cabin, Lady Raine, until you’re ready to tell the truth. I want to know why you’re so intent on going to Steòrnabhagh that you’d stoop to lies and deceit.”

Raine stared at the closed door, astounded and bewildered by Keir’s behavior. Why would he care what she’d given to Colin? It didn’t make sense.