Cadha's Rogue (The Highland Renegades Book 5) (2 page)

Her brother indeed. If they only knew.

Chapter Two

Cadha climbed down under the wharf and the familiar smell of their cave settled her stomach. The tide was low, so only pools of water remained in the craggy bottom.

She and Maas had found this tiny, tight space one morning when he had accidentally pushed her into the water during a wrestling match. Each time they would climb down at low tide, they would make up a new story about why the cave existed.

Those stories numbered the stars.

The walls were narrow, and it was so well-hidden, it couldn’t be seen from any angle above. They had to climb down the hillside and around the rocky edge to find it. Just wide enough for two people, and just deep enough for them to sit in, it was only really usable at low tide. But even at high tide, the water only came halfway up the cave wall, so she and Maas had taken to storing things in the walls.

Cadha sat on the rock, her legs and backside wet. She felt up the walls to the ledges and pulled out three weathered purses. One contained personal effects, and the other two were full of money. Cadha always checked to ensure they hadn’t been swept away or stolen.

She hugged her legs into her chest and curled up against the wall. Maas was everywhere in this cave. Her memories of him here were so visceral, it was like having him back. The entire way here, she’d anticipated screaming and crying and pounding the walls in her anger. Now she was surrounded by Maas’s presence and his memory, and she felt comforted.

She placed the two heavier purses back in the wall and pushed them out of sight. The third she kept, turning it over in her hand, memory taking her by force.

Maas sat beside her, retrieved a pouch from his pocket, and placed it in her hands. His eyes locked onto hers and he passed it with such reverence, it might have been the body of Christ.

“What is it?” Cadha asked.

“Open it.” Maas smiled, his easy grin that made the whole world seem safe.

She pulled at the strings and three items fell into her hands. The first was a small flute, worn and light. Beneath it was a heavy ring with a crest etched into the top.

The third item was a folded piece of paper. She replaced the other two objects in the purse before unfolding the letter. The ink was thin and delicate, and the words were evenly spaced.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“That’s my promise to you.” He closed his hands around hers. “Your father is about to send me on my first ship and I wanted you always to have this.”

“What does it say?” She ran her fingers over the words.

He touched her nose and smiled. “It is a contract for my heart. I drew it up at school, and I wanted to sign it over to you.”

Maas placed one of her fingertips over the signature and seal at the bottom. “That, I made with my father’s ring. The only thing I have of his.”

Cadha slipped her hand onto his cheek and rubbed at his ruddy complexion. “You never speak of your father.”

“It is painful.” His eyes went suddenly dark, and he cast his gaze down at the cave floor. It was so unlike Maas to be sulky, and it set her aback.

“Your sister?”

“She has been dead for years now, and my father and mother before her. And then James, my cousin. I have been without a family for so long, and I have lost everyone I have ever loved.”

“But you will always have me.” She let the letter fall into her lap and she threw her arms around him.

“I know this for certain, Cadha, even if your father will not let us marry, you will always have my heart.” The tremble in his words tore at her, and she held him tighter.

When they pulled apart, she felt a tiny thrill again, expecting him to kiss her, but he was ever the consummate gentleman. He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. Her heart burned for more.

“I want you to keep this here.” He placed the letter in the bag and slipped it onto the highest ledge. “When I’m at sea, you can come and hold this, and know that no matter where we are, and no matter how far apart our travels take us, we will always be connected by our love, even across the farthest ocean.”

Cadha opened her eyes and opened the bag. It had been only a few months since he had first placed these things in her care. The flute had been taken on his first voyage, but the ring and the letter remained.

All she had to do was hold them, and she would feel his presence around her. The calm that settled into her chest gave her peace. She would see him again. He would return for her, or she would find him, and the world would be right again.

Cadha stayed in the cave until dark, holding the relics Maas had left her and humming to herself in the echo of the sea. From the cave mouth, she could see out into the bay, and even the busy port brought some measure of quiet to her anxious heart.

She had to pass her father’s ship in order to return home, and she waited until it was black night to do so. Two men remained on the deck of the
Sea Lion,
and Cadha slipped past them.

“Who goes there?” one of them called out into the night. Cadha froze.

She wasn’t certain if they could see her or not, but she tried to sneak along, keeping in the shadows, making her feet silent.

“I can still hear you,” the voice repeated. A torch came out into the open and Cadha slid out of the light. “Show yourself,” he said.

She stuffed the bag inside her still-wet apron and stepped toward the ship. “It’s Cadha de Witt.”

“Ah, the baby daughter.” The other man laughed and they both came down the gangway toward her. “We’re on your father’s crew.”

“You’re the guard, then?” Cadha thrust her chin forward. “And I’m not a baby.”

“I can see that.” The second man leered at her and the one with the torch punched him in the chest.

“That’s my new sister you’re talking to, there.”

Cadha peered up at the torchbearer. It was Kees Rademacher. His blonde hair looked almost as red as Maas’s in the torchlight. Cadha crossed her arms.

“I heard of your marriage to my sister.”

“I meant to come for supper and meet you, but your father gave me orders to stay with the ship until it could be unloaded. We have a deck crew coming for the last of it shortly.”

A tense silence grew between the three of them, and Cadha tried to edge away. She didn’t want to speak to Pien’s husband any more than she wanted to speak to her father at that moment, but they didn’t appear to want to excuse her.

“You shouldn’t be so cavalier with your name, Cadha.” Kees’s voice was low and he looked around the dock. “There are plenty of people in this world who know your father and would do you harm.”

For a moment, she thought he might make reference to Pien’s kidnapping, and the way being free with the de Witt name could make her a target. But he seemed to have inherited her family’s inability to talk about anything that mattered.

“Does my father really have such a bad name?” she asked.

“It’s not the quality of his reputation that’s at stake,” the other man said. “It’s the fact that you become a mark when you mention that your father is a wealthy pirate.”

“You think I should lie about my name?” Cadha had never heard such a ridiculous thing in her entire life.

“The waters are a more dangerous place each time we sail them,” Kees said. “You would do well to know your company before you make free with that name.”

Cadha stroked the purse inside her apron and thought of Maas. These men had been on the ship with him. Perhaps they knew more than what Josephine and Papa were telling her.

“I gave my name because I came to find you and wanted you to know who I am. I come seeking information.”

The men exchanged high-eyebrow glances. Kees moved the torch to his side so it lit the gangway behind them. “Should we move onto the ship? I’d hate to think of someone overhearing our conversation out in the open here.”

“It isn’t sensitive information.” Cadha held her ground. “I simply wanted to know what you could tell me of Maas Maasen, and his removal from my father’s crew.”

Kees pressed his lips together and nodded. “Yes, Pien… I mean, your sister… she told me that you two had been inseparable as children. She worried you would take it hard when he did not return with us.”

Cadha’s throat burned. Her sister showed such concern for her, yet treated her like a broken eggshell. Why would no one treat her like the woman she was?

She exhaled, long and slow. “I want to know what else you can tell me about his not returning with your crew.”

Kees gave a slight shake of his head. “Not much. I was with him when his sister recognized him, and after that, he was taken into the Earl’s castle. His sister’s husband is one of the Sinclairs.”

A gull passed over their head, which took all of their attentions. The other crewman punched Kees in the shoulder. “It’s about time for us to meet the men.”

Kees gestured with the torch. “You should get home, Cadha.”

“Why don’t you take her,” the man said, reaching for the torch. “Captain de Witt would have my head if I let his daughter race off into the dark alone.”

A moment of hesitation almost gave Cadha the chance to run away, but Kees had her arm before she realized it. Instead of dragging her, as Pien had, he gently wrapped her hand around his forearm and escorted her away from the ship. It was nice to be treated like something other than a petulant child. She could get to like this Kees Rademacher. Perhaps his marriage to her sister wasn’t so hasty as Cadha had imagined.

“No need to worry about Maas,” Kees said as they passed onto the street. “He will be well cared for by his sister and her family.”

“I don’t doubt for his care.” Cadha kept her tone reserved. She hoped it would encourage Kees to say more.

“I didn’t know the lad well, but he came ashore with Brecht and myself when we went after Pien. I know he is a stout, strong-hearted young man. He will do well in his homeland.”

Cadha’s mouth dropped open and her eyes burned. She couldn’t understand why everyone thought Scotland was Maas’s home. He had said to her so many times that Hoorn was his home. They didn’t know him.

She found that she had squeezed Kees’s arm too tightly and he winced. Cadha relaxed her grip.

“This bothers you?” Kees asked. “Speaking of him?”

“No,” she lied.

“He has been like your brother these many years. Of course you care for him. I can see why it would affect you.”

She cleared her throat and touched the purse inside her apron. “I’m surprised he did not come back to Hoorn. This has been his home ever since he can remember.”

“Although Scotland is his true home.”

Cadha fisted her free hand. Everyone seemed to be laboring under a misapprehension that Maas had some secret desire to live out his days in Scotland.

The letter she held in her pocket told otherwise. He wanted to be with her. No matter what they all thought, Maas wanted to be with her.

Chapter Three

Pien slept in the room she and Cadha had always shared, although as a newly married woman, she should have been with her husband. Josephine slept restlessly, but Cadha didn’t sleep at all.

She hadn’t even been able to entertain the hope of sleep. Rather than settling her, talking with Kees had made her angrier, more determined to make them all see how much Maas loved her.

Her family had done their best not to mention Maas’s name. Kees, whom Cadha still couldn’t think of as her new brother-in-law, slept in Maas’s room, sat in Maas’s chair. But even if Josephine had taken her restless body into Kees’s bed, Cadha still wouldn’t have slept.

She’d become a stranger in her own home, her family continuing on with their lives as if nothing had changed, when the most important thing had changed. They’d left one of their number behind in Scotland with strangers, and he wasn’t with them, where he belonged.

Pien finally rolled over, awoke, and yawned. “Cadha? Are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“I had the strangest dream.”

“I imagine you did, you’ve been kicking me all night.”

But Pien didn’t laugh. She turned on her side, her mouth in a taut line. “I’m so sorry, cub. I have had a hard time sleeping since…”

Cadha tried on a consoling smile, but she couldn’t make it stick. Her sister’s captivity hadn’t been spoken of yet. Mother hadn’t even acknowledged it, except to say everyone was glad to have her back. And they likely wouldn’t talk about it, no matter how long Pien remained in the house.

They never spoke of difficult things. Not around her, anyway.

“I’m sorry, Pien. It must have been horrible.”

“Kees holds me through the worst of it, now.” Her sister’s eyes brightened for a short moment, then turned stormy like the sea. “We’ll find a place of our own, and then I won’t be kicking you anymore.”

“What did you do on board?” Cadha slipped onto her side, facing her sister. It had been months since they’d done this—sharing secrets early in the morning, before the rest of the house was awake.

“Papa gave us the captain’s cabin, although I think he preferred not to think about what we did inside it.” Pien’s face wrinkled into a secret smile. “I offered to sleep in it alone, but once Papa married us, he let Kees join me at night. I promised Papa I would stay in my old room while I’m home, though. For Mother’s sake. But all I wanted to do, all night, was sneak into Kees’s bed again.”

Cadha’s belly tightened. Just once, she’d considered climbing into the tiny bed in Maas’s room with him, to see how it would feel to be so close to a man all night.

Could she dare to tell her sister? Would Pien understand? Cadha opened her mouth to speak.

“But that bed is so tiny. I’m not sure we’d both fit in it,” Pien continued. Her eyes had a far-off, clouded look, as though she were remembering nights spent with her husband.

Cadha closed her mouth and listened to her sister gush about her new husband, her voice low. “I could give up this bed if you want to sleep here,” Cadha finally said, after hearing entirely too much about her new brother’s sexual prowess.