Black Raven's Lady: Highland Lairds Trilogy (16 page)

“And your aunt knew you were going and never said a word to your mother or uncle?”

“I’m certain Aunt Isabel reassured my family of my safety. She knew I would travel to Inverness with the Poor Clares, where I would place myself under your protection.”

“When you were tending to my injury, you said that she’d packed the healing remedies in your satchel. How is it you knew just what to do for each injury? Had Isabel taught you how to use medicine in the past?”

Raine bit her lip and stared down at her lap. At the time she’d been too frightened and worried about Keir and the other wounded seamen to guard her words. “I didn’t mean to imply that I was particularly skilled in the art of healing. Or that Aunt Isabel taught me anything that isn’t commonly known.”

“I understand,” he said.

Keir understood that Raine was lying once again. The lass made a terrible liar—as bad at evading the truth as she was at playing cards. She always gave herself away by averting her gaze. He’d known since she was a tall, gangly filly—all long arms and legs—that when she looked him straight in the eye, she was telling the truth. He wasn’t about to let Raine in on his discovery.

Keir tipped the slender beauty against the crook of his arm and gazed in admiration at her fine-boned features, her dainty nose, her full lips, her soft, milky skin, enhanced by sparkling jet eyes and ebony hair. She wore her usual long braid down her back and wispy tendrils framed her heart-shaped face.

He’d known other ladies at court who might be considered lovelier, certainly more buxom, but they lacked Raine’s spontaneous energy and unbounded curiosity. Holding her in his arms was like gathering sunshine into a ball and trying not to let it slip through his fingers.

Keir bussed the tip of her nose, then nuzzled the curve of her throat. He could feel her confusion as she stiffened and attempted to sit up straight. He held her effortlessly in place and whispered in her ear. “My guess is that you are extremely skilled in the healing arts, Raine Cameron, though I can’t think why you’d want to deny it.”

She wriggled in his lap, making a fruitless attempt to push away and stand up, and Keir smiled in sensual pleasure. Her round little rump rocked over his thickened shaft, and his senses responded like the explosion of a cannonade. He pressed one hand against her abdomen. “Stay still,” he ordered gruffly.

“Why?” she questioned. She glanced at the door as though listening for a knock. “Are you afraid someone will find us like this?”

Keir shook his head. “Because I can’t bear any more temptation at the moment, lass, or I’ll nay be responsible for what happens next.”

She froze in his arms, clearly wondering what exactly might happen next if she continued to wiggle about. Her words carried an undercurrent of doubt. “My sitting in your lap gives you that much pleasure?”

“Aye,” he answered, sliding his hand across the flat plane of her stomach to hold her in place.

“Pleasure to your body or to your mind?” she demanded to know.

“To both,” he answered with a soft laugh. “Do you always approach an unfamiliar situation by attempting to dissect it with dispassionate reason?”

Her eyes flashed with indignation. “ ’Tis what Gideon taught me to do.”

“Sometimes passion overrides reason,” he said huskily.

Keir cupped Raine’s chin in his hand and gently lifted her face to his. He kissed her, brushing the tip of his tongue across the seam of her closed lips. When she immediately opened her mouth, he entered, caressing the soft edge of her tongue, coaxing her to return his caress. She timidly touched her tongue to his lips. He gently drew her warm, moist tongue inside, glorying in the sweet, seductive taste of her. The intimate penetration brought a jolt of desire and with it the graphic image of their coupling.

Raine caught the holy medal hanging around Keir’s strong neck and pulled him closer as she explored his moist, welcoming mouth. Their breaths mingled, and she could feel her heart thudding as he slipped his hand beneath her shirt and camisole. The feel of his roughened palm covering her breast, his fingers tugging softly on her nipple sent a shock of carnal need through her. Her breasts, now lushly sensitive, grew heavy and firm beneath his caresses.

“Oh my God, Keir,” she whispered in his ear. She arched up, giving him implicit permission to explore her body.

He deftly unfastened the buttons on her shirt and lifted the sheer camisole beneath to reveal her breasts to his sight. He bent his head and suckled her, licking her with his tongue, moving from one erect bud to the other. Ripples of exquisite pleasure coursed through her body.

They were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Keir lifted Raine off his lap and crossed the cabin to stand in front of the closed door. “What is it?” he asked as he placed his hand against the wooden panel to prevent its being opened.

“If it please you, sir,” Hector called from the passageway, “the lookout has spotted a strange sail.”

“Inform my uncleat once,” Keir told the midshipman. “I’ll be there shortly.”

Keir returned to find Raine trying unsuccessfully to button her shirt. Her fingers shaking, she’d fastened three of the buttons in the wrong holes.

Keir sank to his haunches in front of her. “Here, lass,” he said softly, “let me do it.” Gently pushing her hands away, he unfastened the shirt, pulled down the camisole underneath and tucked it into the drawstring waistband of her pants. Then he fastened the shirt.

Keir bracketed her slender hips in his hands and gazed into her passion-dazed eyes. “Rainey, love,” he said quietly, “we must back away from this and never let it happen again. I can’t take advantage of your present dependence upon me. Nay, nor your innocence and trust in an old family friend. Should I seduce you, I’d be the beast my enemies have labeled me. And everyone I love and respect would be shocked and disappointed in my self-serving behavior.”

Keir knew he was like a wolf caught in a trap, who must chew off his paw to be free. When he took Raine home to Archnacarry Manor, he would have to tear out his heart and leave it there at her feet. ’Twould be the only way he could ever go on with the rest of his life.

“You mustn’t blame yourself, Keir,” she said with complete serenity. “We have no control over what’s happening between us. Our feelings will overpower us, no matter how hard we try to stay away from each other. We are bound together by an enchantment that will last our lifetimes and beyond.”

Keir rose to his feet and offered his hand, fighting the wave of tenderness he felt toward her sweet innocence. Drawing her up, he bussed her forehead. “I don’t think Lady Nina and Laird Alex will agree with your unquestioning belief in the power of faeries. We’ll talk about this later,” he said, moving toward the door. “I must go now.”

Chapter 14

K
EIR SWUNG HIMSELF
up into the rigging and joined the lookout at the top of the mainmast.

“There, sir,” the seaman said, pointing north.

Keir searched the northern horizon and caught a faint glimpse of a far-off sail against the brilliant sky. It was too soon to identify the ship, but his instinct told him they’d spotted the lateen sail of a Macdonald galley hurrying toward the Little Minch and the safety of the countless islands of North Uist.

He slid down to the deck and told the quartermaster’s mate, “Signal the
Hawk
and the
Dragon
:
Giving chase to strange sail. Remain line-ahead. Proceed all due speed north.”

Macraith waited nearby for further orders, along with al-Rahman and Apollonius, who’d both hurried to the main deck at the first call of, “Ahoy the deck. Strange sail sighted.”

“There’s no need to clear for action right away,” Keir said. “We’ll have plenty of time to prepare. I doubt we’ll catch her before nightfall.” He glanced at Apollonius. “Check our powder and shot,” he said. “Put the gun crews to work on it.”

The
Black Raven
followed the patch of white sail all afternoon, never drawing close enough to identify the ship. Keir became convinced that no galley could move away from him quite so fast. The crew was piped to dinner, but the possibility of imminent battle had spread through the ship and voices were low and speculative. The seamen would share in any prize money or reward for capturing the rebel leaders.

By sunset Keir grew certain the stranger was deliberately staying just ahead of the
Raven
, not trying to slip away, but attempting to lure him onward.

But why? The Macdonalds would hardly engage three warships while armed with only longbows and crossbows. Not even if there were ten oared galleys ahead carrying a fighting force of a thousand men. The mighty guns of the Hellhounds of Scotland were legendary throughout the northern seas.

Raine came to join Keir on the quarterdeck at twilight. “You are sailing into a trap,” she told him with calm self-assurance, though she kept her voice low so others wouldn’t hear. “The ship you follow is not a galley, although there are certainly armed Macdonalds aboard.”

Keir frowned into the gathering dusk. “Whether we chase a galley or a carrack, we came to the Isles to hunt down the traitorous clan chiefs. I intend to bring Donald Dubh and MacMurchaidh back to Edinburgh for hanging.”

Wrapped in that damn serene aura that sometimes surrounded her, Raine turned and looked up at Polaris overhead. Keir knew she could easily identify Ursa Major and Minor and point out Saturn glowing steadily in the darkening sky.

“Would you like another lesson in stargazing?” Keir asked with a smile, happy to have an excuse to stand close behind her.

She shook her head. “We’ll soon be engulfed in fog. I believe I’ll retire to my cabin and get some rest, in case I’m needed later.”

Keir caught her elbow. “If we should come under fire, Raine,” he told her in a hoarse whisper, “you are to stay belowdecks with Barrows. For God’s sake, never attempt to come up on the main deck during a bombardment.”

She smiled at the intensity of his words, her eyes sparkling with understanding. He was terrified for her safety. She reached up to touch his face, and he grabbed her hand to stop her. He didn’t need the entire night watch witnessing his complete captivation with his female passenger.

“Believe me, Keir,” she whispered, “I have no intention of grabbing a sword and dirk and joining the fray. When the time comes, I’ll be needed below to nurse the wounded.”

Keir watched her disappear down the hatchway. When he looked back up at the sails, the sky had changed.

Dense gray clouds now obscured the constellations.

They were forced to reef topsails and gallants, for the choppy currents of the Hebrides combined with the total blackness of the night made it necessary to back away from the chase. The bow lanterns were doused. Only the stern lanterns remained to guide the
Dragon
and
Hawk
, sailing close in the
Raven
’s wake.

Keir slept for four hours in the middle of the night and was back on deck before the morning watch. He glanced up to see that Macraith had ordered more sails reefed, till they were moving under the mainsail and foresail only. As the last grains of sand slid through the ship’s glass, Robbie heaved the log.

“Two knots, sir,” Simon Ramsay called softly.

“Very well,” Keir answered. “Steady as she goes.”

They were shrouded in fog, just as Raine had predicted. He could barely make out the bow lights of the
Dragon
behind them. But he could feel the loom of the land on the larboard side. The treacherous currents of the Sound of Harris sweeping into the Little Minch could dash a ship against the rocks all along the small islands that made up the North Uist.

Where were the strange sails?

Keir had given strict orders to Barrows that Raine stay belowdecks with him. Perhaps he was being overcautious, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness that had haunted him through the dark, starless night. The Scottish clansmen, carrying longbows and crossbows, traveled throughout the Isles in oared galleys. It made no sense that the Macdonalds would be sailing in carracks armed with cannon, but Raine’s premonition ran through his mind.

Staring out into the fog-cloaked morning, Keir saw a sudden flash of light directly on their larboard side, followed immediately by the boom of cannon.

“Everyone down!” he shouted, dropping to the boards at his feet.

The crew threw themselves flat on the deck. A ball whizzed over their heads and smashed against the mainmast. Splinters of oak flew through the air, but the mast held.

“Beat to quarters, Mr. MacFarlane,” Keir shouted as he jumped back up.

Hector regained his feet, snatched up the drum and pounded out the call to battle stations. Seamen streamed through the hatchways and over the decks to take up their positions. Top-men scrambled up the ratlines and out onto the yards, ready to unfurl the sails on command. In the tops, the crossbowmen readied their weapons. On the gun deck below, the crews unleashed their cannon, dropped the gun ports and waited for Apollonius to give the signal to fire.

“Full and by, Mr. Ramsay,” Keir shouted to his quartermaster.

Thank God, the fog was lifting and the wind was with them, giving the
Raven
the advantage of the weather gage. As the sails dropped from the yardarms and were sheeted home, the galleon leapt forward like a deerhound scenting the hind.

Keir turned to find Ethan at his side.

“The master gunner sent me for orders, if you please, sir,” the young midshipman said.

“Run and tell Apollonius to fire as they bear.”

The
Black Raven
’s crew were veterans of battles at sea. And the daily practice in gunnery enabled them to load and sight their cannon with automatic precision, unmoved by the boom and crash of broadsides from enemy ships.

Through the lifting fog, Keir saw an armed carrack moving swiftly with the current from the Sound of Harris on the larboard side, heading directly for the choppy water separating the
Raven
from her consorts. With a feeling of disbelief, he recognized the
Yellow Wasp
immediately.

An English privateer in the Hebrides.

He turned toward the bow to find the unidentified ship they’d been following all the previous day now lying directly across their path. Another English-built carrack
—the Osprey—
fully armed and waiting, ready to unleash a broadside against the
Raven
’s vulnerable bow.

Keir knew both ships and their captains from previous skirmishes in the North Sea and the Atlantic. They preyed on Scottish merchantmen along the trade routes to Europe. In the past, King James had awarded Keir and his brothers royal letters of marque and reprisal to hunt down the English pirates and destroy them.

The
Osprey
’s sixteen-pounders boomed, sending shot along the full length of the
Raven
’s deck, from bow to stern, tearing into boats and the rigging above.

Keir’s crewmen, inured to the carnage of battle, refused to panic. They followed a routine practiced daily, each man at his station. From the tops, the crossbowmen readied their deadly arrows, waiting for the enemy ships to come into range.

Looking back over the taffrail, Keir could see the
Yellow Wasp
ready to rake his stern. The
Raven
’s seamen calmly sighted the two smaller guns mounted on the stern, unmoved by the sight of the twelve cannon ready to deliver a broadside.

Macraith was right beside them on the stern deck, shouting directions for sighting the long-range nine-pounders. By God’s own luck, their shot struck a powder cask on the deck of the
Wasp
. The loose gunpowder blew up in a bellow of black smoke. The fire spread quickly down an open hatchway to the carrack’s magazine below. The entire ship shook with the ensuing explosion.

The deadly shrapnel from the
Yellow Wasp
flew in every direction, some cutting up the sails on the
Raven
, other pieces hitting the deck of the
Sea Dragon
, behind the carrack.

Beyond the
Sea Dragon,
Keir now sighted a third privateer, the
Yorkshire
, attempting to cut between it and the
Hawk
. The English carracks had sailed from the western coast of the Outer Hebrides through the Sound of Harris. The
Raven
and her consorts had been caught in a well-planned ambush off Waternish Point at the narrowest part of the Little Minch. Clearly the Sassenach captains had hoped to drive the Scottish squadron up against the coast of Skye.

“Carry on,” Keir shouted to his master gunner and raced to the
Raven
’s bow. Under al-Rahman’s direction, the gun crews were firing the two nine-pounders mounted on the forecastle as fast as they could be reloaded.

Shouting men were milling about on the main deck of the
Osprey
, getting in the way of the English crew. They’d loaded so many Macdonald clansmen onto the carrack that the Islesmen swarmed over the main deck, making it impossible for the sailors to hear the orders of their own officers.

The choppy, treacherous currents of the Hebrides were playing havoc with the
Osprey
’s practiced gunners. Instead of firing unremitting broadsides, their poorly sighted cannon fired sporadically into the sea.

Keir couldn’t risk boarding the
Osprey
. Nor allowing the
Raven
to be boarded. They were far outnumbered. He turned to Hector, waiting close by. “Tell Mr. Buchanan to continue straight ahead, until I give orders to turn sharply starboard. We’re going to clip the
Osprey
on her stern. We’ll try to dismantle her steering. Then warn the cockpit of the coming collision.”

Keir looked up to the tops and shouted, “Bowmen, prepare to fire!”

He hoped to God, given the element of surprise, his maneuver would work. The English captain would never expect to be rammed.

W
ELL BELOW THE
main deck, Raine and Barrows worked side by side in the cockpit. She’d laid out her medicinal remedies, while her sea-daddy placed his saws and splints on top of a sea chest nearby. They worked by the light of a lantern swinging to and fro from a beam above them. Fortunately, they were short enough that neither had to remain stooped over to keep from whacking their head on the ceiling.

Ethan and Robbie served as guides and messengers from the upper decks. The middies kept Raine and Barrows apprised of the battle taking place above them, and the nature of the injuries that would soon require their care.

The thunderous booms of the guns shook the galleon. Members of the crew started to bring down the wounded, and Raine and Barrows sorted the injured by severity.

Three seaman had suffered shrapnel wounds. Raine and Barrows carefully plucked the pieces of jagged wood out of their bodies, working together—one staunching the blood, while the other searched through the raw, lacerated flesh for splinters and pieces of cloth.

Raine had learned by now that burns from red-hot cannon barrels were a frequent injury. Several burned men were carried to sickbay, where she treated them with her herbal ointments.

As she worked, Raine could hear Isabel’s voice in her ear. “Don’t panic if there’s been a severe injury, dearest niece. Someone’s life could depend upon your calm, clear thinking.”

Just when it seemed every injured sailor had been treated, Hector stuck his head into their small compartment amidships. “Captain says to hang on tight!” he shouted. “We’re going to crash!”

The ship shuddered and groaned. The grinding shriek of wood against wood followed the terrible collision.

K
EIR WATCHED FROM
the starboard quarterdeck as the
Black Raven
’s long, pointed bowsprit struck the
Osprey
’s stern, emitting a horrendous screech. The crossbowmen in the galleon’s tops unleashed their arrows, raining death down on the carrack’s overcrowded main deck.

With the experienced Mr. Buchanan at the helm and the wind filling her sails, the
Raven
continued her starboard turn, glancing off the English carrack’s rudder. There was a huge, satisfying crack, and the
Osprey
began to drift away as her tiller splintered apart.

Keir turned toward the
Raven
’s stern to see the
Dragon
under Fearchar MacLean’s expert command safely bypass the wreckage of the burning
Wasp
on her larboard side.

Meanwhile, the
Yorkshire
had pounded the
Sea
Hawk
with broadside after broadside against her vulnerable prow. Under the brutal fire, the
Hawk
’s mizzenmast toppled and fell into the sea, still attached to the ship by ropes and creating a drag on the galleon’s forward movement. Somehow Colin MacRath managed to maneuver his crippled ship alongside the English carrack. The two warships drew so close, they nearly collided.