The Jezebel (24 page)

Moving slowly, she stepped out from the table, one eye on the door.

The serving girl had moved closer to it, cowering by the hinges. How long did they have before the men who guarded this place were told of an intruder’s presence? Would she be able to hold them back by magic, should they come for Roderick?

“Cyrus, I have made clear how we stand with one another, and you must accept that I do not intend to stay with you.”

“Never!”

She stared at him, aching from the pain and disloyalty that Mama Beth had experienced. “You called this man a heathen. Many would call
me
a heathen, but you told me that did not matter. It does matter. It always will matter.”

“It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Oh, but it does, for it is my
heathen
craft you wanted, and all that would be unveiled when you claimed me as your lover.”

“Margaret—”

“You have played with the truth, and you have used me to gain power and prestige.”

Roderick cursed beneath his breath and tightened his grip on Cyrus. Maisie realized she would have to be cautious, for now that Roderick was sure of Cyrus’s identity, he looked on him with revulsion and anger. “Say the word and I will put an end to him,” he growled.

“No!”

Roderick did not relinquish his grip on Cyrus’s hair, but grinned. “Can I at least hit him?”

Maisie sighed. Men, it seemed, relished injuring their opponent in some way even after they had claimed the woman.

Cyrus shifted uneasily, struggling to maintain eye contact with her while pinned to his seat by a lethal weapon. “Get rid of him, and I assure you, you will come to understand how much you mean to me.”

It was he who looked betrayed now, he who looked pained and aggrieved and heartbroken. He did love her, twisted though it was.

“I cannot,” she responded, and braced herself to tell him why. “I cannot, because this man is my lover, and I care for him deeply.”

Roderick’s mouth curled, and he looked across at her proudly. “And that is why I found myself healed.”

She nodded.

The moment was broken by the sound of Cyrus kicking out at the table before him.

Across the room, the servant reached for the door handle, dragged the door open and took flight.

For a moment Maisie thought Cyrus would slit his own neck, for he twisted and bucked against the blade of the cutlass as he tried to break free of Roderick’s grasp.

Roderick cursed, glanced back at the open door, drawn by the sound of the serving girl’s departure.

Cyrus broke free. He flitted to the far wall and lifted down a sword from the mounted display. “You gave yourself to this oaf?” he shouted, as he approached Roderick, sword at the ready.

“I gave myself to an honest man.”

“A mistake I will obliterate from our lives forever.” He lunged in Roderick’s direction, weapon lifted.

“Roderick, be careful, for he is a skilled swordsman.”

Roderick looked Cyrus up and down with some doubt, then stepped forward, defended and quickly returned.

Maisie watched, aghast. Their movements were fast, each man driven by his own, very different, belief in justice. Their blades flashed in the morning sunlight that cut through the room from the far window, the clash of steel on steel a symphony of sound that assaulted her senses, magnifying the terror she felt. If Roderick were to perish now, her life would be over, for he was everything to her.

“If you intend to challenge me, sire, you should perhaps recognize your limitations.” Roderick wielded his cutlass again, easily deflecting the more refined blade Cyrus used.

Through her terror Maisie saw that he was scarcely working at all, while Cyrus—overwrought and with panic in his eyes—was determined there would be bloodshed.

They traded thrusts and parries, their blades ringing.

Over and again her heart leaped.

Then Roderick turned his back on Cyrus and Maisie cried out, fearing for his life. But with a quick maneuver, his cutlass shot out as he spun around. Cyrus, who was moving at full pelt to stab his opponent’s back, was impaled on Roderick’s lethal blade.

Maisie’s breath stalled. With a darting glance, she tried to make sense of it. It had happened so quickly, but then she saw it. Roderick turned away to lure him, and Cyrus, in his frenzy, had impaled himself on his opponent’s blade.

When Roderick pulled his weapon free, Cyrus staggered backward and fell to the ground, his body awkwardly splayed on the hearth rug. His limbs vibrated and shook, and he cried out, his words garbled.

Maisie crossed to his side.

His breath gurgled in his throat, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth. When she knelt beside him, she saw his eyes had faded. His lips moved, mouthing her name silently. Even in death, he could not let her go. There could be no other way. Even if she ran and ran, he would always pursue her.

But now he was almost gone. As much as she was relieved that it was over, it wasn’t in her nature to have him leave in this way, in immense pain. Fingers to her lips, she drew the magical words from deep inside, then blew them on their way. As her words touched Cyrus, his body slumped. The death rattle of his last breath rang into the silence, and Cyrus Lafayette was at peace.

Roderick stared down at the slumped body of his ill-fated opponent, intrigued. “Come, we had better depart this place and quickly, for the servant girl fled a few moments ago.”

Maisie nodded. He picked up his weapon with one hand and reached for her with the other. Maisie ran into his arms.

He quickly led her out of the room and into the corridor beyond. How good it felt to be pressed to his side once more, and to feel his strong arm embracing her. His body, now so familiar to her, felt like a haven.

“You came for me,” she whispered, and glanced up at him as they hastened away. She could still scarcely believe it was true.

“I had a good excuse. I had a message to pass along.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“No.”

How she loved the honest emotion she saw in his eyes, and how she would have missed it if she’d never seen him again. He’d not only made her passionate and strong, he’d warmed her spirit and set her free.

“Now use your magic well, my lady. We must hasten out of here and make our way along the coast, to where the
Libertas
is safely hidden in a cove beyond Broughty Castle. And we must leave no tracks when we go.”

“You regained the ship?”

“Of course we did, because we were aided by magical weather.” He looked at her affectionately. “We rowed into Dundee when it was dark, and found the ship had been left under a skeleton watch. It seemed very easy to get it back, in fact. I wondered if I was in possession of a lucky charm.”

“You believe the magic and you do not fear me?” She clutched at his coat.

“From nearly the first time it was mentioned I could not dismiss it. However, I’d rather we were on the same side.”

“We have always been on the same side, lover of mine. Once you had bedded me our destinies became entwined, because it became a matter of the heart.”

He touched her lips with one finger, smiling all the while. “I’m glad we are finally agreed on something.”

Maisie could not argue with that. “The men will not be angry?”

“Clyde has gone ahead to prepare them for your return. He will win them over. Brady will be a tough nut to crack, but I will ensure your safety, don’t fret. Now let us be on our way,” he added, “for we must reunite you with your kin.”

Maisie nodded and followed his lead, ready to create havoc with her magic if necessary, to aid their escape. But as they hurried along the long corridors of the garrison, she wondered on his words. Was that all he wanted—to reunite her with her kin? If so, did he do so out of a sense of duty, or love?

Maisie wanted to know, but for now it was enough to find her hand in his, and to be close at his side again. She happily followed her lover, grateful for whatever time they might still have together.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The late-September winds on the North Sea were fierce but magically generous to them, hastening their passage north along the coast of Scotland. Roderick didn’t ask, but he knew it was Maisie’s doing.

Now that she’d been accepted by someone other than her guardian, she didn’t hide her fey nature as much as she had. Moonlight glittered strangely in her eyes and her magic was all around. As surely as an eerie sea mist it enveloped him, drawing him into her voluptuous spell. Roderick didn’t fight it or reason with it anymore, because she was everything he wanted, and if she would have him, he would protect and fight for her until his dying breath.

Clyde had surely worked his own sort of magic, because the men nodded and welcomed her aboard when the two of them rejoined the ship. The older men adopted a grudging, wary acceptance of her. The younger lads, such as Adam, were more curious, and their eyes glittered with excitement over whispered exchanges. Sometimes Roderick would hear them discussing her in pairs, comparing notes on what they thought had happened and what had occurred by magic. That made him chuckle. None crossed her, and few had words with him on the matter. Brady was the least accepting, inevitably so, and he glowered at Roderick as he went about his duties.

When Roderick spoke with him, Brady defended his view. “How can you be sure she will not turn, once she has safely reached her destination?”

“She will not turn on us. Believe me, if she wished to harm us it would’ve happened long before now. She has not hurt one of us, despite the sorry conditions that were forced upon her.”

Brady pursed his lips, clearly unwilling to concede, even though there was a touch of regret in his eyes.

“She uses her natural powers judiciously and does not mean to hurt anyone.”

“That may be, but I cannot bring myself to trust her.”

“I know that, and I cannot change your mind on the matter. But you trust me, and I will make sure you return to your family in fine health and with a pocket heavy with coins.”

The first mate grumbled beneath his breath.

Roderick took the opportunity to raise a question. “Brady, there is something I must ask you. If I were to leave the ship awhile, would you be prepared to take on the captainship?”

Startled, Brady peered at him. Eventually, he replied. “Aye, I would. But what nonsense is this? Surely you do not mean to leave the ship for a woman?”

“I ask you only in theory, but I need to know.”

The man gave a wry smile and shook his head. “If it happens and I am needed, I will step in, but I’ll tell you this. Dealing with a woman on land is a hard enough task without taking on one such as her!”

Roderick laughed. “I am not certain of my plans, but it sets my mind at rest that you will take my place should it be necessary.”

He grasped Brady’s shoulder, nodded, and they went about their duties. Planting the thought in the sailor’s mind proved to be a useful distraction, but Roderick had done so because he found himself eager to escort Maisie onward to her kin, if she would accept his protection awhile longer. It did the trick, however, giving Brady something else to ponder on, aside from the powerful witch they carried aboard ship. He spent less time keeping track of her whereabouts and more standing at the helm, taking stock, as if preparing himself for what might be. It suited Roderick well.

Meanwhile, he kept the ship within sight of land as much as possible, for he knew it was important to Maisie, who spent hours at the railing, staring at her homeland. Roderick saw that as the reunion with her family approached, she grew more deeply thoughtful. It was a big moment in her life, and he was glad he could help her with it.

He did not quiz her about the man who had taken him on in Dundee, the man she called her guardian. What had been said in that room revealed enough for him to take action, and to know there was just cause. Maisie would tell him more when she was ready. Roderick also had enough sense to know that she had to mourn that person, even though he was a rum lot, an unscrupulous man who’d meant only to use her. She had not offered that man her virginity, and that was good enough for Roderick, for now.

At night, when he held her in his arms, she clung to him and claimed him, requesting his lovemaking in a much more forthright manner than she had before. As if liberated by all that had passed in between, her mood was wild.

It was as if they were stars aligned. Even when the seas grew restless. Every toss and roll of the ship only brought them closer together, every move either of them made in tune with the other. It seemed as if there was a link between them and the restless skies above. It was her, he knew it was. She was like a channel through which he communicated with the wild oceans he had tried for all these years to master. But now it was her he wanted to master.

Her power, her witchcraft, was manifest at these times. She glowed, her eyes alight with passion, her body moving against his as if she were a wild creature and knew no rules about decorum and restraint. Roderick reveled in that, proud of her lusty ways. They were driven, fueled by their deep passion for one another.

Neither of them, it seemed, could get enough. Roderick stayed hard after she found her release, and she rolled him over and rode him, their naked bodies misted with sweat as they shared every morsel of pleasure. How radiant she was, how confident in this, the thing she’d known least of when they met. It made him proud to see her so liberated.

He sat up and stroked her breasts, sliding his hands over the hot, damp skin beneath the pale globes, while she rocked back and forth on his length.

The rhythmic clutch of her body on his cock was almost too much for him. “Maisie?”

She nodded. “It’s like nothing else I’ve ever felt. This makes me burn with passion.”

Her gaze locked with his and her hands twined around his neck as she squeezed his erection, drawing him off again. He sank his head into her neck, his arms enclosing her, locking them together while they both spilled anew.

When they finally rested, she lifted up on her elbow to look at him. “I did not care for Cyrus, not the way you might think.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“But you wanted to know, and I find that I want to explain myself.”

“Now that you don’t have to?”

She laughed softly. “Yes. I only kept things from you to protect you, not that I did a very good job of it.”

“I see that now.”

“When my mother was put to death, Cyrus and his wife came and took me away to a better life. His wife wanted a child, and he said he did, too. But Cyrus wanted more than that—a young witch he could train and control. I didn’t learn this until very recently, however. To me he was a teacher, someone who protected me and my craft.”

“You were with them for a long time?”

“Ten years or thereabouts. I was a child when they came to Scotland looking for an orphan.”

“You trusted them at first?”

“Not at first. I was in a terrible state, but Mama Beth was so kind, and Cyrus taught me to appreciate my secret nature. Then things changed and I discovered that he had only kept me in order to become my suitor, my owner.”

“What of his wife?”

Maisie rested her head on his shoulder. Roderick felt he knew the answer even before she said it, because he felt damp tears on his skin.

“She died at his hand, because he wanted me in her place.”

Wrapping Maisie closer, Roderick stroked her hair, running his fingers through it before cupping the back of her head as he kissed her. That, he saw, was an immense burden to her, and understandably so.

“What of your childhood?” she said later. “You haven’t said much about the time before you were at sea.”

“That’s because there’s not much to tell. I was born in Dundee, an only child. We had very little. My father hunted for rabbits in the hills and sold them at market. I used to play down by the harbor and watch the ships come and go. The sea life called to me.”

“Your parents?”

“Long gone. The men of the
Libertas
are the only family I know.”

“And me. You have me now.”

Do I?
Roderick didn’t know how to respond to that, so he rocked her gently in his arms, holding her close to him until she eventually dozed, and for a long time after.

* * *

On the second day of their voyage north from the Tay estuary, Roderick returned to his quarters to check on her. It seemed he could not go long without seeing her. The threat of imminent separation, no doubt. The very thought of it made him feel thwarted, useless and frustrated. In his heart, a battle was being fought. Love for a woman was forcing him onto a different path. Would she accept him at her side?

When he entered the cabin, she scarcely noticed, for she was poring over the letter from Gregor, reading it once again. She had already read it many times and marveled on it.

“You could recite the words without the page,” Roderick said, to announce his presence more than anything.

She lifted her head and looked his way. The frown she’d worn disappeared, and her eyes lit at the sight of him.

That tugged at his heartstrings. How could he bear to be parted from this woman? It was the biggest dilemma of his life. If all he could do was see her safely to her kin and continue on with his responsibilities, then so be it. That steadfast reasoning only made him grumpier. Quickly, he crossed to her side.

“It is why I felt a connection here, because he’d been here before me, before he’d met my twin. It was so vague, but it was there nonetheless.” She glanced at the page again and then around the quarters. “I feel it much more clearly now.”

“You will always be a mystery to me, Maisie from Scotland, but I no longer question your ways.”

His comment softened her expression and she looked at him with great fondness. “If it were not for you I might never have discovered where my sister was. I am forever grateful to you.”

Roderick did not want her gratitude, he wanted her. Plain and simple, he felt unaccountably possessive, as if he had a right to own this woman, a woman who clearly could not be owned by anyone. “No, you would have found her, no matter what. I have merely hastened your path in the right direction.”

She looked into his eyes, as if searching his soul, and it troubled Roderick so much that he turned away and went to his maps. The one currently laid out depicted in some detail the treacherous craggy coastline and coastal waters along the coast beyond Wick. Several of the older crewmen knew this coastline well, however, and they sailed safely.

A moment later she joined him, standing close to his side and wrapping her arm around his waist as they looked down at the map. “It would have taken me weeks to travel across the land. I have vague memories of our terrible journey south. You have done me a great service. I will never forget your kindness.”

It was not kindness. He was driven by the thought that he would never see her again once he put her feet on dry land. Roderick had already had a taste of losing her and he didn’t like it.

She had folded up Gregor’s letter and set it on the table. “I have to keep reading it, to be sure.”

“What is it you need to be sure of?” he asked tentatively. His curiosity was always rife, but he wanted her to open herself to him naturally, as she had started to do.

“All these years, I didn’t even know whether my brother and sister were alive. Sometimes I would sense her, but I wasn’t sure if it was just wishes and dreams, you know?” She gave him a sidelong glance and a half smile.

Roderick nodded. He did know. It was the way he felt about Maisie. It was as if they, too, were united, even when they were apart. But they had not spoken of it, and with so much at stake and their lives so different, he did not dare to broach the subject unless she did.

“Now I know she is alive, and she is safe with your friend Gregor as her protector.”

“Gregor is a fiercely loyal man, especially when it comes to family. He left Fife for the sea because a great tragedy befell his family.”

“He and Jessie have much in common, if that is the case.” Maisie shook her head. “The letter mentions kin, but it doesn’t mention Lennox. I wonder about him.” She turned the letter over and looked at it, although her thoughts seemed far away.

“Perhaps your brother will be there, waiting for you?”

“It is possible. He was always chastising our mother for taking us to the Lowlands. He was not as adaptable as Jessie and I. But he was a hotheaded lad, and of the three of us he was the angriest. That has always worried me.”

“Many a youth mired in anger grows into a man with purpose.” Roderick was thinking of Gregor, whose soul had been in a dark place as a young man when they first met. Now, after doing what he had to do to put the past to rest, it appeared he was happily ensconced with a woman and planning to put down roots and build a croft of his own.

“I hope you’re right. I hope that I will find them both there and that they haven’t suffered much in the intervening years.” She lowered her head and stared down at the letter.

Roderick could not bear to see her look fretful. The lingering questions about her brother and what had happened to them in the intervening years hampered her still.

“We will have you there well before your sister’s handfasting.”

He gave a wry smile, for it still surprised him to think of Gregor Ramsay putting down roots upon the land. If Gregor had, could he do it, too? He looked at Maisie. She would never be tied to a man such as him, not the way he wished. “Unfortunately, my maps do not give me much of an idea how far it is to your village from the coast. Fingal, yes?”

She nodded. “My mother used to say that you could smell the sea in the air, but only when the wind came in the right direction and you were perched on the highest crag. Some of the men went to the coast every once in a while to bring back fresh herring, so it cannot be too far.”

“Some of the older men on the ship hail from the Highlands. Clyde will know how far it is, I warrant.”

Later, when Roderick called on Clyde, he joined them to study the map. The mood became more wistful still. Roderick had thought calling the old man in on the matter would lighten the moment, but it didn’t. Somehow it made it even more weighty and tense.