Pleasing the Pirate: A Loveswept Historical Romance (29 page)

Playing on that, she stomped her foot and proclaimed loudly, “You
promised
me.”

“Silence,” he growled, looking a bit anxious.

“No, I will
not
be quiet. We had an agreement.”

The men sitting at his table looked menacing with their muscular arms and mean expressions. She’d never seen them before. They certainly weren’t of Clan McFadden. Grant shot them an anxious look.

“Not here,” he said. “Let’s talk outside.”

“It’s raining outside. I don’t want to go outside. Why are you here in France? I thought the inva—” He shook her so hard her teeth rattled together.

“What in the hell is wrong with you?
Shut your mouth
. Do you want to get us killed?” He
was frantically whispering now as he was ushering her out the back door. The last she saw of Phin and Sebastian they were around front. She prayed they had the back door covered as well.

“Why did you run?” he asked as he pushed her down the short, empty hall that led to a door that she assumed led outside.

“Because your men were chasing me.”

“They were chasing you because you were listening at doors. Ma and Da taught us better, sister. Where did you go after you ran?”

“Some woman found me and took me in until I could find you. You certainly made it difficult.” She sounded put out when in reality her heart was beating so hard she felt sure he could feel it through his tight grip on her arm.

He shoved open the door and pushed her outside so that she stumbled into the rain and nearly fell.

She spun around and plunked her hands on her hips. “That’s no way to treat your sister.”

“Listen to me, Mairi. I don’t know how you got here …” He looked at her more closely and comprehension dawned in those familiar green eyes. “How
did
you get here?” he asked with enough menace that she wanted to step back but didn’t dare.

“On a ship. How else?”

“Who brought you?”

“We did.” To her enormous relief Phin and Sebastian stepped out of the shadows, flanked by two of Phin’s men.

Grant turned to run but Mairi stuck her foot out, tripping him. He fell in an ungracious heap in a puddle of mud.

They grabbed him, one on each arm. Grant struggled, but it was useless. He was outnumbered. And it was over just like that. It was almost a letdown how easy it was to capture him.

“You should have gone to Scotland with me.” She spoke the truth, from her heart.

For a moment she remembered the good times. Of the two of them running through the fields, hiding in the shadows while their parents entertained the nearby landowners. Of slipping into his bedchamber during nasty storms. Storms much like the one tonight.

There would be no more of that. There hadn’t been for some time. She allowed herself to grieve for the man Grant could have been.

“So you’ll betray your country?” he sneered.

“I’m not the traitor here, Grant. You are.”

“Bitch.”

“Shut your mouth,” Phin growled.

Grant’s brows rose. “So that’s the way it is, eh? I’m disappointed you’re not more discerning as to whom you’ll lift your skirts for. Really, Mairi, an Englishman?”

Phin punched Grant in the mouth. He went down hard in another mud puddle, splashing mud on all three of them.

Sebastian and Phin hoisted Grant between them. Her brother’s head hung down, his dirty hair swaying as they dragged him away.

He did this to himself
. She had to remind herself of that, but it was difficult when what was left of her family was being led away to the king to be charged with treason. She gulped in air, lifting her head to the clouds and blinking the tears away. Something in her heart closed with a loud clang, the innocence she’d thought long gone.

Eventually she turned and followed. Grant would be held in the brig on Phin’s ship. The capture of Grant McFadden would not stop the attack, however. He was nothing but a casualty in France’s bid to conquer England. France would persist.

She could only hope they would not succeed.

* * *

“How are you feeling?” Phin dropped down beside her on the chest she’d been sitting on. She was close enough to the railing that if she were to be sick, she could be. Luckily she’d only experienced a slight nausea, easily controlled. So far.

“Better than I thought I would.”

“And how are you doing with all of this?” he asked.

She shrugged. “ ’Tis a horrible thing, betraying one’s brother.” She rested her head on his shoulder. She had not allowed herself to believe that it was over. They still needed to get Grant to England and to the king. The last time he was captured he’d escaped. She could not let that happen this time.

He put his hand over hers and squeezed. “You were brave and I was scared to death.”

She smiled. “I was scared to death, as well, but it had to be done. He had to be stopped.”

“Even so, I’m sorry it had to be you who stopped it.”

“There was no one else.”

Phin patted her hand. “Well, Grant is safe in the hold. He’s not going anywhere, and it will be I who returns him to the king. We’ll not risk another of his escapes.”

“Tell me something, Phin.” She toyed with the edge of her cloak, afraid to look at him. Afraid she would lose her nerve.

“What bothers you, Mairi?”

“James, one of the men who works my land, told me about you.” She finally looked up at him to find that his expression had hardened. “Was I sent to you on purpose?”

For a long moment the only thing that moved on him were the ends of his hair as it was teased by the brisk wind. Her heart thudded. She’d suspected such a thing but had never voiced her suspicions. In a way it didn’t matter and in a way she felt betrayed, but the betrayal wasn’t deep. Before James had come to her she’d been floundering, trying to decide what to do and how to do it. James’s suggestion had seemed like a godsend.

“I see,” she finally said.

“Mairi—”

She held out her hand to stop whatever he was about to say. “I won’t say I’m not hurt because I am. I was used from the beginning to bring my brother in.”

“That’s how it started, but it got muddied along the way. I began to have feelings for you and …” His voice trailed off.

“And you still would have captured him because your life depended on it. I understand.” She ran her palms down her skirts, smoothing the wrinkles.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

She drew in a deep breath. “Truly, I’m fine. I understand now why Grant needed to be captured. I wish none of it had to happen, but it did, and if it hadn’t happened this way then I may have never met you and to be completely selfish, that’s more important than anything.”

“I love you, Mairi.”

Her smile trembled. She loved this man so much. “We each did what we had to do and in the end our missions merged.”

“That’s one way to look at it.”

She shrugged away her hurt for there was no room in her life for such an emotion. There’d been too much hurt in her past. It was time to let go of all of it.

“Would it help to say you made the right decision?” he asked.

“Because it benefited England?”

“Because it saved lives.”

“Only if we stop France’s fleet. There’s no guarantee we will.” They didn’t even know how many ships France had. The crown had given Nicholas twenty-four ships. A massive showing for something the king didn’t fully believe would happen.

“You have little faith in mighty England.”

She smiled thinly. “I have more faith in you.”

“Ah, Mairi mine. You unman me.”

* * *

Nicholas had hidden the twenty-four ships on the north side of the island of Alderney. According to Phin it was the perfect place to watch the French fleet leave Cherbourg. The English planned to fall in behind the fleet, cutting it off from France as it engaged them in battle. But there was debate as to whether France would sail at all. The storm from the night before had abated, and then picked up momentum. Storm clouds were rolling in great waves. Black and angry, it appeared to be a fierce storm, kicking up cold winds that whipped the sea into a frothy cauldron.

“They would be foolish to attempt an attack in such a storm,” Phin said to Sebastian.

“They’re foolish to attempt this anyway,” Sebastian said.

“Do you think they’ll not attack?” Mairi asked.

“I think they will attack. But I think they will wait,” Sebastian said.

“I don’t. I believe they’ll use the storm as a cover and leave sooner than we anticipate,” Phin said.

Sebastian scoffed. “That’s utter foolishness to even think such a thing.”

Phin shrugged as if it mattered not to him what Sebastian thought.

It began to rain. Cold, hard drops that stung the skin. Mairi took refuge under the orlop deck where she could still see but was out of the bite of the wind and rain. Phin tried to urge her into his cabin but she wasn’t quite ready to abandon her post yet. Waves slammed into the rocky
shore of Alderney, sending up huge sprays of water that came crashing down. The ships rocked, pulling against their anchors. Instantly the deck was wet and slippery. Thunder crashed above as lightning split the sky. Visibility was reduced to nearly nothing and Mairi began to believe Sebastian that France would not attempt an attack now. Surely the wind would smash the ships onto the shore.

But not long after, just as the sun was going down, they heard the call of the lookout ship. The French fleet had been spotted on the move.

Instantly Phin’s men hurried to their stations, rainwater dripping off them.

Phin pulled anchor and expertly maneuvered his ship around the northern point of Alderney. Nicholas’s ship was behind Phin’s, and Emmaline’s behind Nicholas’s. The rest lined up behind them.

“Sailing in this is suicide,” Sebastian said.

Phin just shook his head. It might be suicide, but they were committed to stopping the French.

Mairi’s nausea increased as the storm raged. She forced the bile down as she clung tightly to the bench beneath her.

Phin looked at her solemnly, rainwater dripping down his face and soaking his shirt and coat.

“This is it.” She trembled but more from fear than cold.

“This is it.”

The two fleets met just a few miles from Alderney’s shores. The closer they sailed, the better Mairi could see them. As the storm abated a bit she counted twenty-one vessels and her heart leapt in relief. The French were outnumbered by three.

Surely three extra ships could mean the difference between victory and loss.

When the French realized it was the English behind them there wasn’t much they could do other than press forward or stand and fight. So they fought.

The first shot came from the French, followed quickly by a retaliating shot from England.

Black smoke covered the deck of the
Wanderer
as she shot her cannons. The sound was enormous, echoing in Mairi’s chest and head. She gave a passing thought to Grant, chained in the hold. This was what he fought for? This was what he believed would help Scotland? More war? More death? More suffering?

The
Wanderer
pitched to the side, the wind nearly capsizing the vessel. After a few tense moments it slowly rolled the other way, revealing a French ship so close she could see the men on her deck rushing about to light another cannon. A shout of alarm rose from Phin’s men as they raced to their stations.

Phin stood amid the chaos, a calm center the men looked to for support and encouragement. In that moment Mairi had never been prouder of anyone. He faced death head-on, with a grim expression, unflinching. He called commands to his men, constantly searching the sea for the enemy.

If she didn’t know she loved him before, she did now. For his fidelity to his men and his country, for his leadership and for his strength. This was the type of man Grant should have been.

The sky lightened to the east, the sun making its appearance and announcing a new day. France’s ships were highlighted in an orange glow. Phin was following a few ships as they valiantly tried to outrun the English fleet, but the storm was wreaking havoc on their plans. They struggled with their sails. Two flapped in the wind and in horror Mairi watched as two men climbed the mast only to be tossed off and thrown into the sea by the rising wind.

Phin ruthlessly followed even as the ships entered the mouth of a river. Two entered, then three before Mairi realized that Phin’s ship was hanging back, allowing them to enter the river. Phin was yelling orders to his men. She held her breath as men she knew climbed the rigging, but they were smarter than the French, for they climbed so the wind was at their back pinning them to the ropes. They fought to pull in sails, some even cutting the ropes that held them.

A French ship, desperate to follow its mates into the river, misjudged and crashed into the rocky shore. It seemed to disintegrate almost immediately, shattering into splinters of wood. Men jumped, attempting to reach the rocks as the ship listed to the side.

The rain slackened as dawn gave way to morning. Mairi realized the orange glow that she thought was the sun was actually a ship on fire. Debris was scattered as far as the eye could see. The French fleet was in disarray, its ships just as scattered.

The vessels that had raced into the river were trapped in the shallow waters. A cry arose from Phin’s men and even Phin smiled as the French flagship, mired in mud, struck its colors in surrender. She understood now that Phin had anticipated this and had hung back, waiting for the ships to sail to their demise.

When the sun was at its zenith, they assessed the damage. The English suffered minor casualties, having lost only one ship and several men. The French were utterly defeated, their casualties staggering.

Phin ran up to her, his smile wide. Mairi stood on shaking legs just as he swooped her up and spun her around. “We did it, Mairi mine.”

Mairi laughed and wrapped her arms around Phin’s neck. The fear abated, replaced with a euphoria she’d never felt before. Death and destruction surrounded her, but there was such a sense of intense relief, of being
alive
that she couldn’t think of that now.