Highlander's Bride (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 1) (30 page)

A thin, wiry man, with wrinkled skin like cracked
leather, sat cross-legged on the crudely built dock, mending his fishing net.
The man looked up as they rode into view, apparently startled by the sound of
the riders. His countenance seemed to grow leery the closer they approached.

As Alexander dismounted and walked onto the dock,
the fisherman stood and called out in a surly tone. "What do ye want? If
ye be lookin' fer that other high an' mighty one, he is already gone. Be ye
friends o' his?"

Alexander frowned. "No, we are not friends.
What was the name of the man whose ship sailed from here this morn, and where
was it bound?"

Apparent suspicion hardened the fisherman's
expression. "Och, I didna ask the mon's history. All I ken is he was here
fer a wee time an' he didna like anyone aboot his ship. He was sharp spoken to
any who asked aught o' him. Now, leave me be. I have better things to do than
stand here an' answer a lot o' fool questions aboot that stranger."

Frustration and fear for Katherine drove Alexander
into action. In one swift move, he vaulted to the man's side and grabbed him by
the front of his worn shirt. "Before God, I will give you reason to answer
me. I seek a French bastard who has stolen my wife and killed one of my clan.
If you know aught, you best tell me now, or I swear, I will run you
through!" With his free hand, he drew his dirk from its sheath and held it
menacingly close to the unfriendly villager.

The man's face paled and he stuttered. "Mer…
mercy, me lord! I beg yer pardon! I thought ye to be in league wi' the mon ye
seek. He's a thievin' devil an' caused naught but trouble whilst he was
here."

Alexander tightened his hold. "Tell me his
name."

The man swallowed visibly. "The name o' the
mon ye seek is Duke Ja Bier. He an' a tinker left on the mornin' tide wi' a
young lass who was poorly. She had to be carried on board the ship, she
did."

Alexander's eyes narrowed and he spoke quickly.
"What did the lass look like? Did she speak to you?"

"Fair haired she was. I didna see her but fer
a moment, m'lord, an' she didna speak. She had fainted."

Alexander brought the tip of his dirk up to touch
the man's throat. "God's blood! Did you just stand there and do nothing to
aid her?"

The fisherman attempted to shake his head, but was
hampered by the sharp blade. "I offered to fetch me missus to see to the
lass, but the duke would have none o' it. He said the lass was his daughter an'
needed nay help from no heathen Scot."

Alexander continued to hold his dirk in sight but
released his hold on the man's shirt in disgust. "Who was the other man
with her?"

Color slowly crept back into the fisherman's face.
He took a deep breath. "I heard the tinker called Jules by the duke. 'Tis
a passin' strange name fer a Scot tinker, I trow."

"What was the name of the duke's ship and
where was it bound?"

The man shrugged. "I saw the ship, but I
canna read. I heard tell its name be the
Trompeur
, m'lord. I dinna ken
where it be bound. The ship's captain stayed at the inn." As if no longer
worried by the intense look in Alexander's eyes, the fisherman's voice took on
a whining tone. "If ye be in need o' a ship to sail sae far, mayhap I
could find ye one. Fer a price. I need to earn a wee bit fer me trouble."

Alexander bent low until their faces all but
touched. Scorn dripped from his words. "You are more in need of honor and
a backbone for you possess little of either. I will seek my own ship."

The sand crunched beneath his feet as he strode
back to his men. Climbing back into his saddle, he scanned the horizon, longing
for the sight of sails. Sea birds flew through the cloud dotted sky. Their
raucous cry pierced the air. Wave after wave rolled across the ocean and ran
foaming up on the beach. There was nothing else, only empty endless sea. 

The emptiness settled in his heart. He would never
feel whole again without her. He must find her. He would find her. Without
speaking, he nudged Tursachan into a canter across the crisp sand toward the
small inn, his men following behind. 'Twas little more than a small thatched roof
cottage. Not many visitors came this way, by the looks of it. Calling to his
men to dismount, he entered the cottage, followed by Malcolm.

The inside of the cottage was sparsely furnished.
While their feet did not kick up clouds of dust from the packed dirt floor as
they did the dusty road outside, the dwelling held little better comfort.

Alexander eyed a worn table that stood in the
middle of the room. The rickety wooden benches on either side of it looked none
too sturdy. He chose to remain standing. A large woven screen of twigs and
thatch stood at the far end of the room. He looked at his man-at-arms and
silently nodded in the direction of the partition.

Resting his hand on the hilt of his sword, Malcolm
walked over and peered behind it. Returning to Alexander's side, he shook his
head. "'Tis naught but a wall to hide two empty beds. 'Twould seem they
are the best the inn has to offer."

A raggedly dressed old woman hurried through the
doorway, her arms laden with chunks of peat and a few pieces of driftwood.

Alexander met her and relieved her of her burden.
"Good day to you, mistress. You shouldna have to carry such a heavy
load."

"Thank ye, m'lord."

Walking to the hearth, he laid the bundle down,
stirred up the coals with a piece of driftwood and glanced at the frail woman.

She stood, still bent, as if years of hard labor
had twisted her bones, making it impossible for her to stand straight. Her thin
form was covered in the poorest of clothes and her feet were bare.

"My name is Alexander MacGregor, Laird of
Ironwood. I seek to know of the ship that left for France this morn. Do you
know where it was bound or the name of its captain?"

"Aye, Laird MacGregor, I do ken." She
walked over and stirred the contents of a pot set within the stone fireplace.
As she spoke, she glanced at him and then back to the fire.

Although the chimney was built of rock, its
chinking was badly cracked and an occasional stray spark fell through to
sputter out on the dirt floor.

The old woman craned her neck as she looked up. "The
ship is bound fer a place named Wimereux, on the north coast of France, if ye
can believe what the thievin' captain said." She raised a boney hand,
curling it into a fist. "And I ken well his name. He left me inn with nay
payin' fer his lodgins'. The reiver's name be Jennert. Devil take him! He spoke
our tongue, but he be nay true Scot. We Scots always pay our debts!"

Alexander nodded. "Aye, mistress, that we do.
And I have a grievous debt to pay the man who left on Captain Jennert's ship
this morn, for he has stolen my wife and killed one of my clan!" Alexander
pulled several silver coins from the sporran below his waist. "Here, good
woman. Will this pay the captain's debts to you?"

Her eyes grew wide. "Oh, m'laird, 'tis more
than the reiver owed but I have nay enough coin to repay ye the great
difference."

It was obvious the old woman existed on what
meager business she got from the few travelers who came through the small
village. He shook his head. "Good woman, you have more than earned the
money for the knowledge you have given me. I now have a name and a place to
look for the man who holds my wife. Truly, 'tis I who am in your debt."
Leaning down, he gently kissed her cheek. Then he turned, walked out of the inn
beside Malcolm, and called to his men. "Lads, I know the captain's name
and the destination of his ship. We ride to Edinburgh to secure a ship to sail
to France. The first man who finds a suitable ship will earn himself a gold
crown!"

The landscape flew by in a blur as the riders
urged their mounts steadily southward. Alexander halted his men at the edge of
the harbor when they reached the bustling port city. He scanned the sky as the
sun began to set. "The gloamin' won't last long, lads. Go to the docks and
ask of a ship to suit our needs and then meet back at the White Hart Inn by
nightfall."

It had taken an hour, but with the information his
men had given him, he decided the ship,
Eilidh
, was the best one suited
for their purpose.

Unfortunately, her captain claimed the vessel
couldn't sail for five more days, until necessary repairs were finished. Any
ships leaving sooner were not stout enough for such a perilous voyage.

Alexander took a foaming mug of ale that a barmaid
offered him and lifted it in the air as he called out to his men. "Lads, I
am going to the harbor to arrange with the captain for torches and tools."
He dropped a handful of coins into the barmaid's hands. "The lass will
pour you each one mug. Enjoy it. After that, we drink no more."

He took a quick swallow and set down his mug.
"I will not wait five days. No, by God. Tonight we bend our backs to
hasten the repairs on the ship. And we won't stop until 'tis ready to sail to
rescue Lady MacGregor. Aye, and strike the debt we owe to the reivin' murderers
responsible!"

One of his men lifted his mug and shouted.
"Aye, here's to us!" Nodding and echoing their approval, his men
lifted their mugs in earnest.

Malcolm followed Alexander to the door.
"Where do ye want me to start?"

Alexander pointed back to his men. "See that
they are at the docks by the time I have spoken with the captain and persuaded
him to accept our help." 

"Aye, I'll see they do it right."

Alexander nodded. "And which would that be,
old friend? The drink or the repairs?"

"Why, both of course."

Alexander clapped the older man on the back and
strode out of the inn.

**

They labored for three days, working until they
dropped from exhaustion late each night. Alexander smiled grimly as he and his
men filed onto the repaired ship at dawn, more than ready to begin the voyage.
They had sped up their departure by two days. Still that wasn't enough.

The sun rose bright and fiery red. As the deep
crimson glow filled the sky, the
Eilidh's
crew darted wary glances
heavenward and grumbled under their breath.

The captain gazed at the sunrise and frowned.
"Laird MacGregor, we sailors are a superstitious lot and dinna wish to
anger the fates by goin' against nature. 'Tis sure I am, ye know 'A red sky at
morn, sailors be warned.' 'Twould be best if we waited for the morrow to set
sail."

Alexander's eyes narrowed. "No, Captain,
there will be no delay. This ship leaves with my men and me today. With or
without you." He drew his broadsword, emphasizing his words.

Bright color suffused the captain's face as he
turned and barked out orders to the crew. "Prepare to heave anchor.
Riggers hie up the main mast. Unfurl the topsail. Ye there, stow those casks
below deck. Step lively mates. We sail for France." Bowing curtly to
Alexander, he added, "I pray the sky soon loses its blood red hue or ye
may have to convince my whole crew of yer intentions."

Chapter Twenty-two

The last of the afternoon sunlight filtered through
the small porthole window. Katherine scratched another line on the wall beside
her bed with the small nail she'd pried loose from the battered sea chest. She
counted her marks. Sweet Mary, it had been nearly a sennight since she awoke,
scared and alone, in this cabin. She looked back at the lines. Not until the
third one had she scratched a diagonal mark through it.

As Ja Bier had instructed, Jules hadn't brought
food or water until the third day of her captivity. Wrapping her arms about
herself, she thought of how her resolve had been broken, weakened with hunger,
until she gave no further rebellious responses.

Only by outwardly submitting to her captivity, had
her treatment fared somewhat better. Twice each day, she received regular meals
and drink in her cabin. The grumbling of her stomach reminded her it was near
time for her evening meal. She must eat to keep up her strength. She would need
it to escape. Her captors might think they had broken her spirit, but they were
wrong. She would prove it. One day. Pushing grimy strands of hair from her face
made her grateful there was no mirror in the cabin. Never had she felt so dirty.

The familiar grating of the iron key in the lock
drew her attention to the cabin door as Ja Bier unlocked it and entered,
followed by the ship's young cabin boy. He carried the usual tray of food and
watered wine but kept his gaze on the floorboards in front of him. She didn't
blame the lad for not meeting her look. Two nights ago, the duke had nearly
caught him bringing an extra ration of bread to her. He had not dared to do so
again. 

The duke wore a rare smile as he motioned for the
boy to set the tray on the bed. "Daughter, we will be arriving soon. After
you have eaten, you will be allowed enough water to bathe. Jules will bring you
what you need. See that you wash away the dirt of Scotland, and embrace your
native land with proper respect. You will be remaining in France." Without
waiting for a response, the duke ushered the boy out of the cabin ahead of him.

The thought of soaking in a tub and being clean
once again lightened her mood.

Even though she ate her meager meal quickly, Jules
had already entered, supervising a sailor as he brought in a wooden tub and
returned with several buckets of water. The tinker motioned for the man to go.
"That's enough. Wait outside the door."

As the sailor left, Katherine held out her hand
for the towel Jules held. But when he showed no intention of leaving her cabin,
despair began to close in.

Shaking his head, he sat down on the cabin's
single bench. His voice no longer held any note of brogue when he spoke. "
Duc
Ja Bier ordered you be brought to him just as soon as you have bathed and
dressed. I will wait here until you are done, then take you to him."

Jules nodded to the tub of water with a depraved
smile. "You had best hurry. The
Duc
does not like to be kept
waiting." Leering at her, he added, "Do not let me stop you. Any
wench who would marry a filthy Scot has no honor or modesty worthy of
concern."

She felt a sick dread crawl over her skin as she
looked at his greasy smile and clenched her hands to her sides. She would not
let him win. "How would someone like you know aught of honor? Get out. I
won't bathe with you sitting there!"

"Mayhap you'd rather I join you?" His
oily expression deepened and he pulled at the neck of his grimy tunic.

She flew to the door. As she pounded on it, she
shouted for Ja Bier.

Within moments, he appeared in the doorway, an
impatient looking scowl set across his features. "What is the meaning of
this shrewish display of temper? I see I will have to keep a tight rein on you
until I have taught you to conduct yourself appropriately."

She pointed to the vile creature behind her. 
"This… this… animal, says he won't leave here whilst I bathe. I am no
strumpet to be watched!"

The duke looked down his nose at her. "You,
mon
fille
, are nothing but what I choose for you to be. Since I have need of
Jules, I will allow you your privacy. For now. But know this, you will do
exactly as I say or I will gladly give you to him for an evening's
pleasure!"

Ja Bier jerked his head in the direction of the
upper deck before he continued. "Jules, go make arrangements with Captain
Jennert to have a carriage brought to the ship immediately after we arrive. I
wish to leave for my estate as soon as possible. I have important matters to
settle and do not wish to have them delayed."

"
Oui, Monsieur Duc
." As the tinker
walked past her, he glared and ran his fingers down the length of her arm.

She jerked away from his touch, and shuddered at
the thought of Ja Bier's threat. As soon as the cabin door shut, she pushed the
bench up against it, more to calm her nerves, than to actually be of any
barrier from the outside.

Darting a worried glance at the door, she quickly
shed her clothing and stepped into the wooden tub. As she bathed, she scrubbed
her arm vigorously to rid it of Jules' touch. Fearful her privacy would be
short lived, Katherine bathed quickly, then dressed in the same gown she'd worn
for the last five days.

Scanning the small room for the thousandth time,
she wished for the small bundle of extra clothing she'd taken from Ironwood.
The last time she had seen it was when she'd dropped it to go to Fiona's aid.
Would she die as well?

No. She mustn't think about that. 'Twould only
make matters worse. She must think of something else. Watch the ocean. Listen
to the sea birds. Think of anything but dying.

She gently grasped the brooch her mother had given
her. The smooth silver pin felt cool to her touch and brought a sense of hope
and reassurance. Thank the saints she still had it. But would she ever see her
parents again? Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.  Sweet
Mary, she'd cried more in the last few days than she could ever remember. She
shook her head and quickly brushed her tears away. Nay, she'd not let Ja Bier
win. Somehow she would find a way to escape. Until then, she would hold on. Taking
a deep breath, she sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

**

In less than an hour, the ship sailed into Wimereux
harbor and dropped anchor. The sounds of sailors pulling in the rigging and
unloading cargo filtered through the small porthole window. Katherine looked
down at her white, clenched fingers and forced them to relax.

Without warning, the cabin door thrust open. Jules
smirked as he looked down at the upended bench. He shoved it roughly aside with
his scuffed boot. "Come.
Duc
Ja Bier is ready to leave."

Apprehension swept over her, leaving her chilled.
Her hands began to tremble. No. She must be strong. She mustn't let them see
her fear. Stilling her hands to her sides, and holding her head high, she
refused to look at Jules as she passed him in the doorway. His heavy footsteps
seemed to mock her slow progress from her cabin. She had no choice but to go.
Frantically, she looked around as she stood on deck. Neither means of escape
nor friendly face met her gaze. Panic, such as she had never felt before,
welled in her throat. Once she left the confines of the ship would her hopes of
rescue be forever lost?

Night had fallen. For just a moment, the sparkle
of starlight glittered on the water before being obliterated by the looming
shadow of the ship, as it rose and fell on the dark tide. The jarring motion
seemed to keep time with the desperate beating of her heart.

Ja Bier looked at her and nodded curtly. "Do
come along. This voyage has delayed my plans long enough. I mean to fulfill
them from the comfort of my estate." His glance raked across her and he
tapped a finger to his chin. "Yes. The next few days should prove to be
most interesting."

She didn't want to see his icy gaze and sardonic
expression. But she dare not let him realize her terror. Mutely, she gripped
her gown to her sides. She faced him and didn't move.

As if amused by her rebellion, he smiled briefly.
The contemptuous sneer in his voice was all too evident. "Ah,
petite
,
do you think you can defy me with a crowd of people to lend you courage? I
assure you no one here will come to your aid. It matters not to me whether you
walk or are trussed and hauled off the ship with the baggage. Either way, you
will join me in the carriage."

Jules' cruel laugh behind her forced her feet into
motion.

The long, rough gangplank caught and grabbed at
her skirt like clutching fingers. The wet sand on the dock clung to her hem,
slapping against her ankles, making it more difficult to move. It was all she
could do to force herself to climb into the carriage. Sliding as far away from
Ja Bier as she could, she was relieved to see that Jules sat outside beside the
driver. The click of the duke's snuff case drew her wary glance. Thank God, he
didn't seem interested in her.

He applied a bit of snuff with his long manicured
fingers. The case snapped shut, almost echoing in the anxious silence.

Gripping her hands together in her lap, she forced
her gaze out the carriage window trying desperately to memorize some landmarks
by which she might guide herself back to the docks, if she were able to escape.
Despair almost overwhelmed her. It was too dark to see anything.

The ride seemed to last forever, but even as weary
as she was, she wouldn't allow herself to fall asleep. Afraid of what might
happen if she relaxed her guard, she declined to lean back and rest in the
obvious comfort of the thick cushions. Eventually, the carriage turned into a
tree-lined cobbled drive that led up to a dark stone manor. She shivered as she
looked at the foreboding dwelling. Seeing it, she recalled her mother's fearful
expression when Da had spoken of Ja Bier.

The conveyance pulled to a stop and Jules climbed
down and opened the door. Ja Bier stepped out, then turned back to face
Katherine. "Come along,
mon fille
. You will be taken to your
chamber. In the morning, you will change into attire that is more presentable
and be shown to my private suite. As I told you before, I have need of
you."

She gasped and cringed back deeper into the
carriage.

"Ah,
petite
, while your body is
tempting, my need of you falls into a different category. You will be informed
of this on the morrow. For now, go to your room."

The duke took a few steps and stopped.
Nonchalantly, he smoothed his wrinkled coat front and casually spoke over his
shoulder. "Oh, and by the way, do not attempt to leave. Jules will watch
the door to your room. If you should venture out of your chamber, I have told
him he may enjoy himself with you before he brings you back." Ja Bier
smiled his tight-lipped smile and then continued on to the manor house.

Light from the carriage lantern lit Jules' leering
face as he leaned forward. He resembled one of those horrid masks she'd once
seen on All Hallows Eve. "Well now wench, are you going to come out of the
carriage by yourself, or would you like me to come in and give you a
hand?"

Even though she was determined not to show her
fear, she couldn't hold back a shudder of revulsion. Rising and brushing off
her skirts, she attempted an assurance that she didn't feel. "Don't touch
me. I will follow the duke's orders. You will have no cause to come near me.
Stand back and let me pass."

He snorted derisively, then turned and led her to
the manor.

Rows of vacant windows stared at her like the
blind eyes of a beggar. Inside, a dark paneled corridor led up to a wide
stairway. Candlelight gleamed on the polished wood balusters. A few silent
servants went about their duties with down cast eyes. The lack of voices lent
an eeriness to the room. Hampered by her clinging skirts, she clutched at the
handrail and slowly followed Jules to the second floor.

The glare from a blazing chandelier midway down
the upper hallway pushed back the shadows lurking at each end. How many doors
had they passed? She should have counted. Now 'twas too late. He was stopping.

Jules opened a door with a flourish, bowed and
grinned. "Your chamber, milady. Don't forget, I will not be far."

She hurried past him, shut the door, and leaned
against it. Her fingers searched for the familiar rungs to secure a bar against
intruders. There were none. Her heart hammered in her chest as she surveyed her
new prison. There were no windows to the outside and only an alcove off to one
side of the room to function as the garderobe. Deep red draperies covered the
walls.

Candlelight shimmered across an ornate white and
gilt carved bed and matching armoire at one end of the room. A gold
velvet-covered chaise lounge reclined against the corner of the far wall. A
gilt and brocade chair stood in front of a lady's lace-covered dressing table
in the opposite corner.

Hesitating for a moment to steady her thoughts,
she gazed at the table. A sumptuous collection of various toiletry items,
including a silver-backed hairbrush and hand mirror, arrayed its surface. The
richness of the furnishings cloyed the air. She longed for the natural beauty
of Ironwood.

Taking a deep breath, she walked over and picked
up the brush. Weighed down by its heavy gleaming handle, she sighed and placed
it back on the table. Had
Maman
used it? Would she ever see her parents
again? And Alexander. Sweet Mary, how she needed his smile and his arms about
her. She'd been so wrong to leave him. He had said there had been reasons for
his actions. She should have stayed and tried to work things out between them.
It seemed they'd both learned too late whom to trust.

Her shoulders drooped as she glanced back at the
door. 'Twas the only way in or out of the chamber. And it was being watched.
Tonight, she should be safe enough as long as she didn't try to leave the room.
Tomorrow after she'd rested, she would think of a way out of there.