The Beauty of the Mist (7 page)

John shook his head, clearing his brain of the dream, and glanced out at the gray morning fog still blanketing the ship.

“Sure, she is a bonny lass.”

John’s eyes shot up to his navigator’s smiling face. David’s look was full of mischief as he stood across the table, leaning over the maps.

The Highlander supposed he had a great deal to be thankful for. When David had knocked quietly at the cabin door last night, the young navigator had brought with him one of the few serving women aboard. John wondered what his young friend knew of his thoughts.

But with the woman to spend the night looking after the sleeping castaways, there had been no more reason for him to stay. And as he’d parted company with his navigator in the corridor outside the cabin, John had felt a bittersweet sense of relief. This immediate attraction, the pull that he was feeling for her had struck him so quickly. Far too quickly.

“You can ignore me if you like, m’lord,” David continued. “But I still say she’s a bonny thing. And I don’t see you denying it.”

“Who?” John asked casually. “Janet Maule? Nay, David, I don’t deny it. I think she’s quite bon...”

“Nay!” the navigator broke in. “I am speaking of the lass we picked out of the sea. The one that has you spellbound.”

“Spellb—!” John glared at David. “You’re daft, man. What makes you say such a thing?”

“Well, in the past hour, m’lord, I’ve taken you to and from the New World but twice on this chart, and the blasted place isn’t even drawn on it. But you’ve only shaken your head each time over and agreed to everything I’ve been saying. Now that I think on it, perhaps while I was at it, I should have asked for ten pots of gold and a ship of my own.” David grinned at his commander. “You’ve been lost to the world, I’d say. She has bewitched you.”

John knew there was no point of denying that his attention had not been on the charts.

“Very well, David. She is a comely woman, I’ll grant you.” But that was as far as the Highlander was willing to go. On the other hand, he couldn’t let his navigator go on needling him for days on end. “However, I am merely an observer of that beauty, and a distant admirer, at that. Unlike a certain navigator of mine, who openly woos a certain Mistress Janet.”

“She is not
my
Mistress Janet, for God’s sake,” the man protested. “And I don’t woo her openly. If your Lordship continues to talk so casually about this, then there is one navigator we both know who will soon have a father’s short sword at his throat.”

“Well, David, it won’t be the first time.” John straightened, glad to have been able to turn the tables on the younger man. “In fact, thinking back on the way you handled the man yesterday, I might have thought you were just waiting for the chance.”

“Chance of what?” David protested. “To have Sir Thomas cut my throat?”

“Nay, to cross swords,” he answered mildly. “You can’t hide it, Davy. You carry a grudge against the man. Admit it, lad. As much as you like the daughter, you dislike the father.”

David moved away from the table. “Tis true, by ‘is wounds. I can’t help it. Though it’s not so bad as you say.”

“But why?” John asked. “What has he done to make you feel so?”

“In truth? Nothing!” David turned and faced his commander before starting to pace the room. “It’s just the way that he carries himself. You, Sir John—you’re of noble blood, one of the finest families in Scotland. You’re of far more noble blood than he. And you are my commander, to boot. But I can talk to you. You treat me as a man. I believe you’ve given me the responsibilities I now bear because...well, because I’ve earned your respect. I take great pride in that, m’lord.”

David stopped and placed both his hands on the charts again.

“But Sir Thomas takes every opportunity to remind me that I am a commoner, and that he is noble. And worse, that he’s of the Douglas clan. That I am lowly, and he is high and mighty. That I am nothing.”

“They are many like him, David. Especially among the Douglas blood. Those of ancient blood who fear good men like you. New men, lad. Men with ability.” John stood straight. “You’ve surely put up with them in the past, or perhaps it would be better to say you’ve ably subdued your anger. But what you’ve felt has never eaten away at you, as this hostility for Sir Thomas is clearly eating away at you now.”

David turned and moved toward the open window.

“Could it be, I wonder,” John continued. “Could it be that because of your attraction to his daughter, the man’s place at court frustrates you all the more?”

“Aye. Perhaps it does.” David stared out into the gray nothingness.

There fell a silence that neither would break. John knew very well the battle that raged within the young man. A battle of insecurity at not being worthy enough. It was a battle so similar to the one Caroline had so long enjoyed seeing him fight.

Even born noble, John Macpherson was the third son, following in the steps of two highly successful brothers. The shoes to be filled were large. So large, in fact, that John had often, as a young man, despaired of being able to fill them. Of finding his own place. Of making his own mark. The tradition of the third son joining the clergy never seemed appropriate for him, for the whole family knew John was more pirate than priest. So in a very real sense, he had become the pirate. Sailing under the banner of the Stuart king, or sailing under his own flag, John Macpherson became the most feared warrior sailing the northern seas.

But through the years, Caroline had done nothing but tear him down. A member of the powerful Douglas clan even before her marriage, she had too often found cause to stab at his pride. To remind him of her holdings, of the wealth she had inherited at coming of age.

But his wealth exceeded hers tenfold. His victories at sea and the treasures taken had won him power and prestige. And yet, he’d chosen to keep silent. All the while, as she continued with her display of preeminence, he’d not said a thing. He’d held back his anger and made no attempt to make her see his true self. John Macpherson had been trained for a life where one’s value was tested and proven with every cut of the blade and not by the shrewdness of a sharp tongue.

He endured her arrogance for too long, he thought now. The passion they’d shared was not love. But later on, when Caroline eventually resorted to keeping him at bay with the hints of other wooers, John had no longer been able to stand the very thing that he’d tolerated for so many years. He’d wanted an end to it all.

Oddly, and quite out of character, Caroline had suddenly wanted a chance to change when faced with the reality of losing him. And he would have given her the chance had she not made it conditional. Suddenly it became essential that he should marry her. She had promised to change, to stop playing him for the jealous fool. But he couldn’t. John had shaken his head and turned away. And that had been the end of it all. Or so he’d thought.

“I’ve been too reckless.” David spoke at last. “I’ve been foolish. She is a lady and I am just a sailor. Just a common sailor.”

“A great navigator,” John interjected. “The finest there is.”

“Still common though. If Sir Thomas were to find out that I’ve been courting his daughter behind his back, he would skin me alive. And the Lord only knows what he would do to her.”

“Your wooing of Janet Maule has been completely innocent—so far as I can see. And she has responded in kind. She is no bairn, Davy. So where’s the harm?” John grabbed a decanter from the sideboard and poured out a drink for his man. Though he knew David was resilient enough, he hated to see his navigator so distraught. “And I don’t think it matters much that she is as blind as a wee mouse? She’s a pretty mouse, for all that!”

“So you think the fact that she can’t see past the length of her arm is the reason she’s taken such an interest in me?”

“What else could it be, man?” John nodded. “If she could only see your ugly face—”

“She happens to like my ugly face,” David chirped in. “And as far as her sight goes, there is nothing wrong with it as far as I could tell. Aye, she claims that people and things are but a shadow when she looks at them from afar, but that’s where I come in. I just place her hand in the croak of my arm and lead her to things she can’t make out for herself. That is, if her father doesn’t catch wind of it.”

“And the chances are, lad, that Sir Thomas will never know anything about it. At least, he’ll probably not learn of it while he is aboard the
Great Michael
.”

Seeing David’s uncomprehending glance, John handed him the cup and then continued. “He is too busy watching and worrying about me and his new bride meeting in secret. Little else matters to him, I believe.”

“Aye.” The navigator nodded knowingly. “Lady Caroline may have married him, but he certainly doesn’t have the look of a man who’s secure in the match.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He seems to be spending a great deal of time in your company, m’lord.” David shook his head. “I was wondering if he would ever broach the topic with you.”

John looked at him steadily, before answering. “He has, actually, though not directly. And I have done whatever I could to try to put his mind at ease.”

“It wasn’t enough, though, was it?”

“It’s difficult to tell,” John answered. “Knowing Caroline, I’d guess that she is probably playing a barrelful of games with the man—jealousy being only one. My guess is that she’s working him to her will right now.”

The Highlander poured himself a cup and drank it at once. Seeing the look of concern creasing the face of the young navigator, John smiled as he continued. “I am just glad she has him to play with and not me, Davy. But sadly for Sir Thomas, I can see that she hasn’t learned a thing.”

Maria placed a gentle kiss on Isabel’s brow and smoothed back the older woman’s hair. The physician’s medicine was quite effective. After quickly dropping off to sleep, her aunt hadn’t so much as moved a muscle.

She turned toward the servant tidying the room.

“Are you certain? I am not asking too much of you?”

“You are not, m’lady,” the young woman blurted out, whirling to face her. “Mistress Janet gave me strict orders to remain in this cabin until she returns.”

Maria looked in the direction of her sleeping aunt. “If she awakens, or asks for me...”

“I’ll tell her you’ve gone to see Sir John, and you’ll be back in no time.”

Maria nodded in approval and turned to go. But then her shaking legs and her fluttering stomach slowed her momentarily. Reaching the door, she stopped and took a deep breath. Perhaps this was not such a good idea. Isabel! How was it she let her aunt talk her into this? She turned again and glanced at the sleeping woman.

“Is there something wrong, m’lady?” The young servant moved to her side.

“Nay...nay.” Maria glanced down at her bandaged hands. The events of the night before were quite sketchy in her memory. Had he stayed in the cabin long? Who had carried her to her bunk? She remembered him asking so many questions. And then she’d passed out. Maria reached up with frustration and touched the latch.

“Oh, I am sorry, m’lady. You can’t open the latch, can you?” Without another word, the woman opened the door wide and held it for her.

With a tentative nod of appreciation to the serving woman, Maria shyly stepped across the threshold and into the corridor. She waited there for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. Looking down the narrow walkway, she could see the sailor who was standing guard at the base of a steep series of stairs, move at once in her direction.

“Are ye needing something, m’lady?”

“I was hoping, if you would be kind enough...” She was at a loss for words. She was not accustomed to this. Where was her entourage now? Where were the dozens of women that had been surrounding her for years, the ones who had served as her own human shield. The ones she could hide behind.

The man waited patiently.

“I need to see your commander.” She blurted at last.

The man nodded in understanding. “If ye could wait a wee bit in your cabin, m’lady, I could send after him.”

“I would prefer...” She tried to build her courage. “I would like to go to him. I need some fresh air, and I thought...”

The elder man ran a gnarled hand over his grizzled face for a moment, contemplating the request.

Maria waited, not knowing if there was any more explanation she should give. The sailor before her, though a few years older, looked like so many others who had sailed with them on their doomed journey. So much like the one who had lost his life in the escape. Pablo, who now rested at the bottom of the gray green sea.

“Please,” she said simply. “I need your help.”

The bowed back of the man creaked a bit straighter, and the hard edges of his sea worn face softened at the sound of her plea.

“I can’t see Sir John having any objection to that.” The sailor looked up and down the corridor. “But before I can take ye up to him, m’lady, ye’ll need to wait here for a wee bit, until I find a mate to take over my post.”

Maria nodded as the man scuttled down the corridor.

So they were being watched. She’d thought the guard at the door had been posted merely for their convenience. How foolish of me, she thought. Of course, he would have them watched.

But that was not going to stop her from asking him why. That is, if she could build the courage to ask him
any
of the things she was supposed to ask. Maria looked up as she heard the padding of footsteps coming down the corridor from behind her. It was the young boy. The one who had been helping the physician yesterday and again this morning. The lad came to a halt in front of her.

Maria glanced at the curly, sandy-colored hair and the large brown eyes that were peering at her over the armful of linens. He hardly came to her shoulder, and she wondered how one so young could survive a life so rough as going to sea. He stood silently for a moment, obviously unsure of whether he should address her.

“Are you feeling better, m’lady?” he blurted at last.

“Aye, thank you,” she responded softly. The boy continued to stand and stare at her. “What is your name?”