Delight (11 page)

Protect t
hem—a pirate who had preyed on
vulnerability.

Then one of the children, fearless and observant, darted forward.
"
'Tis a pirate ship!" she exclaimed.
"
Can we ride it?
"

Her m
other stumbled down the incline
to
pull
the child away.

A bearded man in a blacksmith's leather jerkin approached the
boat. He grinned in amusement
as he looked Douglas in the eye.

"Caught yerself a right prize there, my lord. My name is Henry. That
'
s my smithy at the end of the
lane."

Douglas met the man
'
s shrewd gaze. He couldn
'
t think up a lie to explain
Delight
to save his life. He was forced resort to the truth.

"I need help," he said bluntly. "I want to hide this vessel. For sentimental reasons, my men cannot bring themselves to bum or dismantle the damned harlot.
"

Henr
y scratched the side of his jaw.
"
Hide her from the princess?"

"
You know about her too?
"
Douglas said in disbelief.

"
Oh, aye. Ye can hardly keep such a secret in these parts.
"

Douglas sighed.
"
Well, we have to keep this ship a secret.
"

Henry took a long draw on his briarwood pipe.
"
There
'
s an empty ba
rn
in the village where we can keep an eye on her.
"

"I appreciate this." Douglas jumped from the rowboat to clap the man on the back.
"
I
'
m going to help you too. I
'
m sending men here to stand guard.
"

The sparkle faded from Henr
y
'
s eyes.
"
Neacail's younger brother was found at the crossroads this morning with a single swordthrust through his chest. He was the raider who raped wee Aggie and the one who beat that boy Davie within an inch of his life."

Douglas's expression did not change. Aidan had left the body in open view as a signal to Neacail
'
s men that Douglas would let no injustice go unavenged.

"
Perhaps this will warn Neacail that the people of Dunmoral are
not to be attacked with impuni
ty,
"
Douglas said.

Henry lowered his voice.
"
That family and their followers are a vicious lot, fugitives from the army, put to the horn by our clan. They willna let the loss of a brother go unavenged."

"
I am prepared for that," Douglas said.

Henry shook his head in concern.
"
I've known Neacail since he was a wee bastard who took pleasure drownin' small animals in the loch. He
'
ll take on the Devil himself to get what he wants."

Douglas
'
s voice was soft with a steel core of confidence. "Then let him. The Devil is always ready for a challenge."

12

A
few miles away from Loch D
unmoral,
A fishing boat bumped between the ridge of rocks that carved a jagged passageway into the shore where the river met the sea. Gemma leaned over the side and scanned the dark green waters for Dainty
'
s bald head.

It was a chilly gray gloaming with mist in the air.

"He
'
s been down there a long time," she said.
"
Perhaps Baldwin ought to go in after him."

"Me?" Baldwin said in horror.

"
Don
'
t look at me either,
"
Frances said, burying her hands in her skirts.
"
I owe Douglas my life, but nobody is getting me in a Scottish sea in November."

Suddenly Dainty burst from between the rocks
like Poseidon, his lips blue and trembling, his eyes bright with triumph. "The princess will sup in style,
"
he announced.

Gemma grinned. "You found them?
"

"
That I did.
"
He clambered into the boat, a fishing net slung over his naked shoulders. "You
'
d never believe where—I near drowned in that diving bell hunting for the buggers, and there they were all the time plastered over the rocks of the shore for the taking.
"

The small group stared in anticipation at the black shiny mess he
'
d dumped into the bottom of the boat. Beaming with pride, Dainty shoved his knife into the waistband of his soaking trousers.

Frances glared at him. "These aren't oysters, you lackwit. They
'
re big nasty mussels.
Ew.
"

"
Mussels!" Baldwin stomped his feet in glee.
"
Ye
'
re so stupid, Dainty! What kind of pirate canna tell a mussel from an oyster?"

Dainty flushed to the dormant roots of his bald head.
"
Well, yo
u try finding the accursed crea
tures with the water cold enough to freeze your eyeballs in your head. That
'
s the best I could do.
"
Disgruntled, he thumped down on the thwarts, nearly capsizing the small boat.

"
Oysters live in beds,
"
Frances said disgustedly. Baldwin chuckled. "Aye, ye should have looked for their mattresses.
"

Dainty crossed his muscle-knotted arms over his chest. "Tell Her Highness they
'
re Highland
oysters, or dress them up in sauce. I
'
m not diving again.
"

Gemma pushed her toe against the gleaming mess of mussels.
"
Do you want to sicken the princess? Some mussels can be deadly.
"

"We have less than a week to give the feast,
"
Frances said grimly. "I insist on serving oysters on the half-shell, and I have to have a peacock for the center of the table.
"

"
A peacock?
"
Dainty cried.

"Yes," Gemma said.
"
A peacock. And after you
'
ve found me a decent one, you're to report to Mrs. MacVittie for lessons in deportment.
"
She picked up the oar. "After all Douglas has done for us, we owe it to him to make him proud.
"

She did not say it but more than a debt of gratitude hung in the balance. If Douglas sought redemption, then so did they. If he found it, they would too. But if he failed and fell flat on his face in this bold venture called reform, they fell with him.

They would willingly follow him into hell, and it wouldn't be the first time.

D
ouglas waited on the dais for the princess to join him again the next day for breakfast. It was Sunday—blackcurrant-jelly day. He had bathed in cold water and scrubbed himself with birch-bud soap. He had changed from his hunting clothes into a clean shirt and plaid, his long black
hair secured in a black ribbon. Yet h
is mind was
not on social niceties.

'
Twas on murder. Specifically, 'twas on finding Neacail of Gleng
alda and his men and bringing them to justice.

He was in a dark mood. He hated it when
matters did not go his way.

Pirating had been play. Navigating the waters of polite behavior
was a pain in the arse. Simply
put, courting a princess was downright dangerous. He liked her,
and he was just learning that
'twas not pleasant
to deceive someone you liked.
Nor was this masquerade easy to maintain.

Moreover, despite his efforts to remain detached, he liked t
he trusting Highlanders of Dun
moral too—
his
village, if you could believe it.

He would honor his vow to end Neacail
'
s reign of violence and intimidation. Call him a harsh disciplinarian, a cutthroat, a mercenary, but no one hurt what was his.

Douglas reserved that right.

Several hours ago, acting on a hint that Henry MacAult had given him at the loch, he had ridden up into the wooded hills to hunt down Neacail but found no trace of him.

Fury and frustration gnawed at his vitals. He sensed that the outlaws were watching him in secret while he searched for them; a small army could have easily hidden in any of the caves or crag crevices of the outlying moor. Or perhaps

Neacail was licking his wounds; it seemed too much to hope for that he had not survived that single shot.

"
I am going to stop them," he said, as if voicing the vow aloud gave it power.

Still, he could hardly keep cantering out for these rousing manhunts, then trot back as fresh as a rosebud for a respectable meal with Her Royal Highness.

Respectable.

He glanced up in slow-dawning horror at the dozen fat tallow candles protruding from the pine chandelier above the dais table. Candles that his men, in a moment of boredom, had carved into a circle of naked frolicking women.

"Oh, Lord," he said, vaulting up out of his enormous chair.

Gemma, engrossed in her book of French court life, looked up with a puzzled frown to see Douglas dancing around in the center of the table. "What in the world are you doing?
"

"
The princess! The naked candles. Help!"

'
Twas too late. While Douglas had been quick enough to stuff th
e offensive candles in his pock
ets, he hadn
'
t managed to climb off the table before Rowena and her governess approached the dais.

He stared down at Rowena with an embarrassed smile. She wore a gown of sky-blue silk with an embroidered silver girdle. Her golden-brown hair flowed loose over her shoulders. She looked so sweet and graceful that Douglas's mind froze in its tracks.

How could he hoodwink this woman?

The contours of her mouth curved with a naive sensuality that set his nerves on fire as she smiled back at him. He fought the surprising tender impulse to reach down to touch her face, to sift his hands through her hair, to breathe her womanly scent.

He also fought the more urgent need to take her to his bed and bolt the door while he taught her in graphic terms what it meant for a woman to belong to a man.

This, this grandiose scheme of seduction, took shape in his mind while he stood before her smiling like a clodpate on the very table she was expected to eat upon, wax figures of wanton women bulging in his pocket.
"
I imagine you're wondering why I
'
m standing here like this,
"
he said.

Rowena's mouth twitched at the comers. "I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation.
"

"
There is.
"
He glanced at his sister. "Isn't there, Gemma?
"

"
'
Twas a mouse,
"
Gemma said quickly.
"
It ran across Douglas
'
s foot. He
'
s been terrified of them since
…
since he was locked up in a cellar overnight by accident when he was three.
"

"A mouse?
"
Rowena looked startled. Not, Douglas assumed
disgustedly, because she was afraid of rodents herself but because one didn
'
t expect a man of his stature to behave like such a faint-headed fop.

He jumped down to the floor. "Thank you, Gemma," he said in a clipped tone.

"
You
'
re welcome.
"
The girl hardly spared him a glance, oblivious to his annoyance. She just gazed in awe at Rowena.
"
Shall I see about breakfast then?
"

"What about this mouse?
"
Hildegarde asked, her gruff voice jolting Douglas out of his dangerous mood.

"
I chased it away,
"
Gemma said.
"
Douglas was too scared to do it.
"

Rowena arched her brow, her gaze lifting to the still swaying chandelier. She wished to be alone with Douglas, away from this castle and his retainers, in an atmosphere where she might probe deeper into his character. More and more she believed that his behavior was a pose, but whether he meant to please her or deceive her, she did not know.

She had been in his company only four days,
'
twas true. Hardly long enough for him to prove himself the ruthless leader of legend. Perhaps he feared the Crown would punish him if he reverted to his past behavior. Still, she had to penetrate his guard quickly. Once Frederic returned,
'
twould be impossible.

"
I will eat later, thank you,
"
she said. "Right now I
'
d love nothing more than a ride across the
moor. Is it possible, my lord? I have hardly moved a muscle since I arrived. You could show me your holdings."

Her simple request sent a chill of apprehension down Douglas's spine. Rowena, riding alone on the moor, a rare jewel to tempt the raiders who had no regard for beauty or human life.

He shook his head. "I don
'
t think so."

"
Highness.
"
Hildegarde sent Douglas a beseeching look.
"
'
Tis not wise to let her leave this castle. She must be protected.
"

"You could accompany me, my lord,
"
Rowena said with a beguiling smile.

That tempted him. To ride alone with her in the wind, to watch the furtive passage of deer through the woods. And, if the moment came, to woo her with a few well-chosen words, a kiss. Strangely, winning her fortune was the farthest thing from his mind. She was a treasure unto herself.

But he could not court the woman and pay heed to his surroundings. He hated to admit to her that he
'
d allowed a handful of savage men to intimidate an entire village. He did not wish to appear even weaker than this absurd masquerade made him act. Instead of strolling in the garden, he should be riding down an outlaw.

"
There are raiders in the area,
"
he said in an apologetic voice.

"
My brother has always preferred reading a
good book to any outdoor activity,
"
Gemma said ruefully. "He had a delicate constitution as a child. Mama fretted herself into a state every time he had a cough."

Rowena stared up at Douglas in wonder.
"
Indeed.
"

"We almost lost him several times," Gemma went on, ignoring the killing gleam in her brother
'
s eye. "A rheumy nose would lay him at death
'
s door."

Douglas forced a smile.
"
Pray do not bore our guest with the details of my invalid youth, Gemma. You exaggerate."

"I'
m not bored," Rowena said hastily.
"
I find your past a fascinating subject. Perhaps a canter across the moor would improve your
…
constitution."

Douglas looked down at her. Secrets and deception hung between them like a shimmering veil of mist that grew more dense with every second.