Black Raven's Lady: Highland Lairds Trilogy (9 page)

BOOK: Black Raven's Lady: Highland Lairds Trilogy
11.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Since Mr. MacFarlane isn’t here either,” she parried, “I think it best that I return later.”

“Nay, don’t leave,” he said, motioning for her to come farther inside. “There’s something I need to ask you before Hector begins serving our supper.” Keir gestured to the chair across from him. “Please, sit down.”

“I’ll stand,” she replied in an icy tone. “What is it you wish to know?”

She could adopt the distant, imperial air of royalty when she chose to. ’Twasn’t one of her more endearing traits.

“Sit down, Raine,” he growled, his patience growing thin. He’d known this discussion would prove difficult, but he hadn’t thought he’d have to wrestle her into her chair.

At his stern command, she dropped onto the cushioned seat, folded her hands in her lap, and lifted her brow expectantly.

Regaining his own place at the table, Keir leaned back and folded his arms. He wasted no time in coming to the point. “I want you to give me your purse of coins,” he said bluntly.

She turned her face to the wall, presenting him with her flawless profile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, as she pretended to study the French tapestry he’d taken from a Flemish privateer three years ago.

“Aye, but you do,” he countered, struggling to keep his tone easy and conversational. “I want the purse you brought with you from Archnacarry, Raine. The one holding the coins you used to bribe that damn fisherman at Sanndabhaig.”

“Pooh,” she replied scornfully. “What makes you think I gave him anything?”

“That poor soul may be an illiterate fisherman, but he’s not an imbecile. Only a great deal of money would entice a rational man to give up a day’s fishing to ferry a lady across the bay, leaving her guards behind.”

“Perhaps he did it because I asked him politely to help me,” she retorted, meeting his gaze at last. “Not everyone behaves like a . . .” She took a deep breath, as though suddenly afraid to go on.

Keir rose and braced his hands on the table, leaning closer. “Like what?” he prompted. “Like a beast? Don’t cavil at the name-calling now, Lady Raine. We’re quite alone. You’ve no one to shock here.”

Her jet eyes flashing, she pressed her lips together as though struggling to keep a rein on her unruly tongue.

“Either you give me your purse,” he continued quietly, “or I’ll have your cabin searched. And if we don’t find it there, I’ll search your person myself.”

“You’d go through my clothing and steal my money?” she asked, her words creaky with disbelief. “Why, you’re no better than an Edinburgh pickpocket.”

“You can consider me your banker,” he said with a smile. She’d finally admitted she had the coins hidden somewhere. “I’ll return the purse to your guardian the day I return you safely to your mother.”

She blinked back tears. “Pray, don’t do this, Keir. I beg you.”

Her simple plea struck a weak spot somewhere in the vicinity of his carefully guarded heart.

Jesus.

Was she going to resort to weeping?

“Don’t cry, Raine,” he told her sternly. “ ’Twill not work on me.”

“I’m not trying to get your sympathy, you damn fool!” she said, dashing the back of her hands against the crystal drops clinging to her lashes. “These are tears of frustration because I’m a woman. For if I were a man, I’d—” She reached beneath the hem of her shirt, pulled out an embroidered moneybag from the waistband of her breeches, and threw it on the table. “There, Judas,” she said. “There’s your thirty pieces of silver.”

Keir untied the cords and poured the gold unicorns and silver groats on the table. There wasn’t a farthing nor a half-farthing nor a penny in the pile. “This is a king’s ransom,” he said in astonishment.

“My family has always been very generous to me,” she replied. “And I knew better than to start out on a journey without some ready funds. ’Twould have been foolish.”

“ ’Twas damn foolish of you to begin this journey in the first place,” he told her sharply.

Keir lifted a small heart-shaped stone, nearly hidden in the pile of coins. He turned it over in his hand, studying the strange writing carved into it. “What’s this?”

She held out her hand. “ ’Tis a token to bring good fortune,” she said. “My aunt gave it to me for my protection just before I left Archnacarry.”

“What does it say?”

“I’m not certain. ’Tis written in the age-old language of the Tuatha De Danann. Isabel promised it would keep me safe. May I have it now, please? ’Tis of no value to you.”

At that moment, Macraith came through the open doorway. He bowed graciously to Raine as his gaze took in the scene. “My lady,” he said with a warm smile, “what a pleasure to have you join us this evening.”

Her face drained of color, Raine rose to her feet and snatched up the stone Keir had replaced on the table. “I’m afraid I don’t feel up to eating anything at the moment,” she said with the briefest of curtsies. “So if you gentlemen will please excuse me, I think I shall retire.”

Not waiting for an answer, she hurried out the door.

Macraith sank down on a chair across from Keir. “What’s all this?” he asked, motioning to the coinage spilled across the dining table.

“I took Raine’s purse from her for safekeeping,” he told his uncle. “Just in case she takes it in her head to run off again.”

“From the look on her face, I’d guess she was none too happy about surrendering her gold,” Macraith replied. He smoothed his calloused fingers across the table, pushing the coins toward his nephew.

For a brief moment, Keir covered his eyes with one hand, then met his uncle’s solicitous gaze. “What goddamn difference does it make if she’s angry about it? I’m acting in her best interest.” He shrugged. “She already detests me.”

“Now, that’s a wee bit strong,” Macraith said. “Though at the moment, I’d hazard a guess that you’re not high on her list of heroes.”

“Oh, I’m not her hero, all right. You heard what she called me,” Keir replied. “She thinks I’m exactly like my notorious father. A savage beast.”

Folding his arms across his burly chest, Macraith shook his head. “Don’t be an ass, man. At the time Lady Raine said it, she thought you’d just heaved her sea-daddy into his watery grave—and she’d be the next one tossed overboard. Of course, had that happened, there would have been two hundred and fifty seamen over the side in an instant, pulling her out of the water.”

Keir recalled the fear that had propelled him to her that awful morning. He’d been so overjoyed that she was alive and unhurt, he’d almost pulled her into his arms. He’d almost showered her beautiful face with kisses and told her—what? That his heart had nearly stopped when he’d seen her aboard that goddamned fishing boat? That he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman? Given her anger, she’d have spit in his face.

Keir glowered at his uncle. “How the devil could she believe I’d throw her into the sea to drown? What kind of monster would do that?”

“Perhaps you might consider showing the lassie your softer side,” Macraith suggested. “I’ve never seen you treat a female so sternly before. You’re usually busy coaxing the ladies into your bed.”

Keir scowled at the idiotic advice. “Married ladies,” he pointed out, “who were already cheating on their husbands before I ever came on the scene. Or trollops. I’ve never seduced a virginal maid—or a faithful wife—and you damn well know it.”

“Christ, ye glaikit simpleton!” his uncle exclaimed. “I’m not telling you to seduce the lass! Just behave a wee bit kinder.”

“Kinder!” Keir roared, losing all patience. “After seeing her almost killed through her own obstinate, willful behavior?” He began picking up the coins and slipping them back into the embroidered silk purse. “Do you realize how close Raine came to being killed?” he continued in a calmer tone. “If we hadn’t waited for the castle’s guns to deliver the first volley, or if MacMurchaidh hadn’t already sailed, leaving a token contingent to guard the fortress, that goddamn fishing boat would have been blown clean out of the water. ’Tis only by a miracle Raine’s alive today.”

Macraith nodded solemnly. “Aye, you’ve the right of it there, lad. Where the devil did she think she was going anyway?”

“She refused to say. But I believe she wanted to reach the town, where she could pay someone to take her by horseback to Calanais.”

“Why, in God’s name?”

“To see the standing stones.” Keir rose and rubbed the back of his neck. “Raine told me the whole reason for her journey was to visit the site of the ancient stones.”

“Why ever would she want to visit such a desolate place?”

“God alone knows,” Keir said. “But I’d lay the blame on her batty aunt. I warned Raine that the church discourages people from going to that pagan site.”

“Aye, but we’re going there anyway, aren’t we?” Macraith said with a cheerful laugh. “That’s why we broke formation this morning and are presently beating to windward, nor by nor-west.”

Keir grinned. “I thought if I took Raine to Calanais, she wouldn’t keep trying to sneak off. I don’t have eyes in the back of my head, for Christ’s sake. Short of chaining her to the bed in her cabin, I can’t be certain she’ll not try leaving again. And she’s already proven she can outmaneuver three of my steadiest seamen and leave them swamped and floundering in her wake.”

“Perhaps you should entrust her to Fearchar,” his uncle suggested mildly. “She’s fond of the old pirate. She might listen to him. Perhaps be less likely to run off.”

“Raine is my responsibility and mine alone,” Keir declared, unwilling to mention the fact that Tam MacLean was on board the
Sea Drag
on. “I will see that she gets home safely. I can do nothing less.”

From the corner of his eye, Keir caught Hector peeking around the doorjamb. He carried a platter of beef pastries and stood waiting for the order to serve the meal.

With a wave of his hand, Keir signaled the lad to come in.

“Take a plate of food to Lady Raine’s cabin,” he told the midshipman quietly. He motioned to the bowl of oranges and apples in the center of the table. “Be sure she has the fresh fruit she likes and a glass of wine from my opened bottle on the sideboard there. And make certain there’s clean linen and silver for her. Then you can come back and serve us.”

Keir avoided his uncle’s canny gaze. But he knew without looking, Macraith had a wide, speculative grin on his bearded face.

There was no privacy to be had on a galleon.

And keeping a secret was goddamn hard, if not impossible.

 

Chapter 7

K
EIR PULLED ON
the oars, sending the cutter shooting across the lapping waves and deeper into the sea’s wide inlet on the western side of the Isle of Lewis. The setting sun behind him seemed to light their way across Loch Roag.

In the bow, Raine sat erect, holding on to the sides of the boat, her back straight and her gaze fastened on the destination ahead. He could sense the excitement coursing through her slim figure, an excitement so intense she seemed to vibrate with an unbounded energy.

The cool evening breeze pulled unruly tendrils from the long, thick braid that fell down her back. Beneath her heavy red cape, she wore her borrowed shirt and seaman’s loose trousers.

“Are you certain this is the correct inlet?” Raine asked in a worried tone. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Have you been to see the stones before?”

“Never,” he said. “But aye, I’m quite certain. I’ve a detailed map of the loch and the area surrounding Calanais.”

They had left the
Raven
anchored farther out in the wide sea inlet that emptied into the Atlantic Ocean. Keir wanted to be certain that members of the night watch couldn’t see the two of them exploring the forbidden site. He had weighed the wisdom of bringing someone else along, for he’d been careful never to be alone with Raine since the evening he’d taken her purse. In the final analysis, however, the only person he could trust to keep their visit to the standing stones a secret was his uncle. And as second in command, Macraith needed to remain on board the
Raven
. ’Twas unlikely that an enemy ship would appear on the western side of the island, but it wasn’t a chance Keir wanted to take without precaution.

Raine felt a thrill go through her as the stones appeared high on a ridge above them, outlined against the fading blue sky. There must have been at least fifty monoliths, rising up like sentinels from the distant past, gazing out to the far horizon and the uncharted ocean beyond.

During daylight the standing stones would have been visible from miles around on the windswept moor. Now the rays of the setting sun streaming through wisps of clouds bathed the stones in a soft pink glow.

“Oh, my,” she said, tingling with exhilaration. “ ’Tis just as I’d imagined from the wonder tales my aunt told me as a child.”

“Isabel Cameron visited this site?” Keir asked, surprise apparent in his voice.

“Yes, several times in her youth,” Raine replied. “Her grandmother was born on the Isle of Lewis. She brought Aunt Isabel here to teach her about the age-old healing ways handed down by mouth from mother to daughter.”

Keir steered the cutter up to the bank, stowed the oars, and jumped out. After he’d pulled the boat solidly onto the shore, he moved to help Raine. Her fascinated gaze remained locked on the standing stones above them.

Now that the sun had nearly disappeared beneath the western horizon, the monoliths rose up as dark shadows. To Keir’s surprise, Raine calmly allowed him to scoop her up in his arms and carry her to dry ground. As he walked up the mossy bank, she placed one arm around his neck and looked up at him.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said, her soprano voice soft and sweet in his ear.

“I was interested in seeing the place myself,” Keir lied, “once you put me in mind of it.”

Beneath her quiet scrutiny, his heart smashed against his ribs like the recoil of an eighteen-pounder. He assumed she was studying his disfigured face, now that she was up so close. ’Twasn’t a pretty sight, but battle scars seldom were, and many a Highland warrior had suffered as bad or worse. His just happened to be across his broken nose, where none could miss it.

Glancing down, Keir met her inquisitive gaze, astonished when she offered a tentative smile. Well, hell, this was a definite improvement. She’d shown him nothing but scowls and a cold shoulder ever since he’d taken her wretched bag of coins. She’d succeeded in making him feel like the goddamned cutpurse she’d accused him of being.

“Tell me about these wondrous tales you heard as a child,” he said, wanting to prolong the marvelous opportunity to hold her so close their faces were only inches apart. Her cool breath fanned across his cheek, sending a surge of desire spiraling through him.

“First let’s go farther up on the ridge,” she suggested. “And by the way, you can put me down now. I’m probably getting a little heavy, since we’ve been climbing steadily.”

“You’re not afraid I’ll drop you?” Keir asked, and pretended to stumble.

Raine clung tighter, just as he’d hoped, and her smooth cheek brushed against his jaw.

“Ouch,” she complained with a soft laugh. “Your whiskers are too rough. Now set me down, I insist.”

Reluctantly, Keir complied, refusing to dwell on the thought of his bristly stubble brushing against her delicate skin. The heat of his need pulsed through his veins, as he inhaled the scent of roses.

God Almighty, she smelled like heaven.

They had come to an avenue outlined by a double row of standing stones, each taller than an average man and leading to the middle of the ancient site. He followed Raine as she hurried up the grassy pathway.

More standing stones formed a ring from which a line of smaller stones radiated in all four directions in an approximation of the Celtic cross. Keir watched Raine move into the ring, where she twirled in obvious pleasure.

Looking about with a radiant smile, she motioned for Keir to join her. As she caught his hand in hers, she pointed to four large stones that made up the innermost circle.

“Do you know why these stones are here?” she asked.

He shrugged noncommittally. “I’ve heard that the people on the Isle of Lewis call them
fir bhrèige
, false men,” he said. “According to local tradition, these stones were once giants who lived on the island long ago. When they refused to be converted to Christianity by Saint Kieran, they were turned to stone as punishment.”

Raine burst into laughter. “This place has nothing to do with Saint Kieran or any other saint. On this sacred ground is a temple dedicated to the Triple Goddess,” she told him. She pointed toward the east. “Look at the hills just beyond. Some people say ’tis the shape of an old woman reclining.”

Keir followed the direction of her finger, where the outline of the hilltops appeared against the darkening sky, “Aye, I can see that clear enough,” he said. “But the old crone doesn’t resemble a goddess to me.”

Raine met his gaze, her flashing eyes still visible in the fading rays of sunlight. “Yet some people see a young woman with child whom they call the sleeping beauty. Not surprising, because this enduring landscape is dedicated to honoring the three phases of a woman’s life.”

She led Keir to one of the four stones that comprised the innermost circle. “This triangular stone represents the virginal maiden,” she explained. “But of course, in order to become fertile, to become with child—which is necessary for the propagation of humankind—the female will need a male.”

Keir looked down into Raine’s heart-shaped face. In spite of her factual knowledge, her innocence shone from her luminous eyes. Her words left him struggling to breathe, as though the air had been sucked out of his lungs by a bilge pump.

“Aye,” he agreed in a creaky voice, “that’s usually the way of it.”

Keir wondered if Raine had any inkling of the effect she was having upon him. He steeled himself against the allure of a temptation so overwhelming, no sane man could resist it. In spite of his high-minded intentions, his body reacted with traitorous urgency. His manhood thickened and pressed against the snug crotch of his breeches.

Purposefully and with an iron will, Keir pictured Raine in her early years, with her pair of long braids swinging about her. In her youthful exuberance, she had challenged him to an archery contest, undaunted by the fact that he was seven years older. At thirteen, she probably knew she had no chance to best him, but that hadn’t stopped her from trying. Nothing and no one had ever intimidated Raine.

Clearly unaware of his licentious thoughts, Raine caught Keir’s hand and led him to a smooth column that reached above his head. “Here,” she said, patting the monolith. “This is the male stone. Can you not see it?”

With a jolt, Keir realized exactly what she was trying to show him. The sight of her graceful hand placed on the phallic symbol brought the image of her soft fingers caressing him in the most intimate way possible. Unfettered passion surged through him with the force of a tidal wave, threatening to submerge the carefully built barriers he’d erected against his rampaging desire for the last two years.

God help him, he was drowning in a sea of lust.

Serene as an angel reaching out to save a dying wretch, Raine tugged on his sleeve, leading him to the next standing stone. “And here,” she explained in a matter-of-fact manner, “is the pregnant female, the mother of mankind.”

In the last rays of the setting sun, the stone glowed blood red.

Looking up at him expectantly, she waited for his reply.

“You have a vivid imagination, lass,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t detect the carnal need in his raspy voice.

She chose to ignore his cynical remark. “And that rough stone over there,” she said pointing to the fourth one of the inner circle, “represents the old crone in whom resides the wisdom of humanity’s longing to reproduce itself.” She lifted her arched brows and added as an afterthought, “Which, thankfully, we humans have accomplished since time immemorial.”

Keir chose not to comment on the obvious truth of her statement. He had no intention of discussing mankind’s unbridled concupiscence down through the ages with Raine. “We’d best be returning to the ship soon,” he told her gruffly. “We shouldn’t be absent too long.”

“Of course,” she replied. “But first, I’d like to view the stone circle from that vantage point over there.”

“Aye,” Keir agreed, reluctant to bring their visit to a close.

Together they climbed a small ridge and turned to look back at the standing stones outlined against the night sky. Gradually the full moon appeared through the dispersing clouds, so low on the eastern horizon it seemed to be hovering at the feet of the reclining beauty. As they watched, transfixed by the heavenly phenomenon, Keir slipped his arm around Raine’s shoulders, drawing her close.

Above the four standing monoliths comprising the inner circle, the moon’s brilliant orange glow approached the maiden stone, then slowly moved on, so low on the horizon that the lunar orb appeared to be penetrated by the tip of the phallic stone.

“Oh, look at that!” Raine exclaimed. “Did you see it?”

Keir nodded. “I did,” he replied in astonishment. “Though I can hardly believe what I’m seeing.”

The luminous tangerine sphere, closer to the earth than reasonably possible, seemed to dance along the top of the stones. Passing over the mother stone, the moon slowly moved along the hilltops to the reclining female’s face and then finally approached the stone of the old woman.

Having studied the heavens, Keir realized that Raine’s pagan temple must have once been used by the ancients for astronomical observations.

“I believe this site was designed for rituals connected with the movements of the sun, moon and stars,” he told her in a hushed voice. “We’ve just witnessed a spectacular lunar event. I’ve never seen one quite like it before, where the moon appears so low on the eastern horizon as to touch the earth.”

Raine smiled at her companion’s scientific explanation, but shook her head in disagreement. “Perhaps the men of long ago used this place to study the stars,” she conceded. “But for women it has always been a temple to the Mother of the Universe.”

He grinned complacently and turned her toward the east. “Follow that line of stones to where it leads into the sky,” he insisted. “That group of bright stars is the rising Pleiades.” He immediately added, “ ’Tis also known as the Seven Sisters.”

“And is there a story to help me remember that particular constellation?” she quizzed with a teasing laugh.

“There is,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “The Greeks believed that the Pleiades were the seven daughters of Atlas and Pleione. The great hunter, Orion, saw the lassies one day and admired them. But the sisters became frightened and ran away.”

“All too typical of some fainthearted females,” she said, shaking her head in mock disgust. “But pray, continue.”

“The hunter followed them, not wanting to lose sight of the lovely sisters.”

“All too typical of some overzealous males,” she interrupted again. When he lifted an eyebrow, indicating his exasperation, she waved her hand. “Do go on.”

“When the timid lassies appealed to Jupiter for protection, he changed them into doves and they flew up into the sky. But amongst the stars, the hunter still seems to be running after the seven sisters. On cold winter evenings, Orion rises above the horizon soon after the Pleiades and strides across the heavens, followed by his dogs.”

“I’ll certainly remember that story,” she said with a laugh. “You rival my aunt with your wondrous tales. Perhaps I
shall
master the constellations before our journey’s end.”

Keir felt a sharp jolt of unhappiness at the thought of her leaving his ship, of his continuing the voyage without her. Raine gazed up at him, her delicate features caressed by the moonlight. Her expressive eyes shining with happiness, she smiled at him shyly, and he knew, in that instant, she was the most desirable woman he’d ever known. Would ever know.

And with that realization came the sudden ache of irreparable loss. He would always and forever be his brutal father’s brutal son. How many times had Keir heard it said that he was the living replica of the Black Beast of Barra? A man who’d been disliked and feared by everyone around him, including Keir’s lovely mother.

When Keir spoke, his words came harsh and grating. “I shan’t look forward to seeing you go, although I know you must.”

At the tall warrior’s words, Raine stopped short. She met Keir’s gaze, and a sudden, unexplained yearning blossomed somewhere deep inside her. She stood absolutely still, just looking up at him, really seeing him for the first time without comparison to either of his older brothers. The world around them seemed to pause, as though waiting for something marvelous to happen.

BOOK: Black Raven's Lady: Highland Lairds Trilogy
11.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Conspiración Maine by Mario Escobar Golderos
A Larger Universe by James L Gillaspy
Keep No Secrets by Julie Compton
The Longest Journey by E.M. Forster
The Key to Midnight by Dean Koontz
Arranging Love by Nina Pierce
Gelignite by William Marshall
Three-Day Town by Margaret Maron