For Love or Loyalty: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 1 (6 page)

“Please . . .” Lauren covered Deidra’s finger. “I would like for all of us to be friends. We have a long journey ahead, and we will need to depend on each other.” Lauren turned full circle. “I was hoping to rest. Is there a place where I could lie down?”

“Aye.” Kathleen stepped aside and pointed to the narrow bed where Lauren had awakened earlier. “Take mine for now. I shan’t need it ’til tonight. I am too excited to sleep anytime soon.”

“Thank ye.” Lauren’s shoulders slumped in relief as she walked toward it and sank on the thin mattress. “I am exhausted.”

“Regardless of what ye think of me, thanks for welcoming Lauren,” Malcolm said, determined not to allow them to deprive him of his manners. Tense silence filled the cabin as none of them responded. It was no more than he expected or deserved. He turned and strode out the door.

His feet carried him to the main deck where he sought the rail and looked out over the vast ocean. Peaceful swells carried them up and down as the bow plowed through the water and the sails caught the wind. Malcolm breathed the fresh salt air and tried to clear his mind and heart.

Why couldn’t Lauren treat him with the disdain she owed him? He didn’t want her forgiveness. If anything, he wanted her to punish him as he deserved.

Chapter 4

4

L
a
uren slept most of the afternoon, dreaming of Blair at home. She woke feeling homesick and brushed her hair from her eyes. Someone had left a dim oil lamp burning on an iron hook extending from the wall. She sat up to gain her bearings. A small wooden table sat in a corner, bolted to the floor below the lantern. An empty narrow bed was against the wall on the other side with two bags below it. Lauren glanced under the bed where she sat and saw a worn satchel.

How long had she slept? The musty smell of the cabin made her long for fresh air. She donned her red cloak and left the security of the cabin. Lauren wondered how long she could wear her only set of clothes before everyone began to hate the smell of her. An ache welled inside, and she swallowed down the desire to let tears overcome her. Weeping would do no good, only make her more miserable.

A waft of salt sea air took her breath away as she stepped out on deck. The evening sun cast an orange glow in the sky. Passengers walked along the deck and leaned over the rails as if they couldn’t believe their great fortune to be there. Under other circumstances, Lauren would have shared in their delight. Today, the vast sea trapped her. She feared God may not deliver her out of this mess, especially if He had a greater plan.

“There ye are.” Deidra walked toward her with Kathleen by her side. “Do ye feel better?” She shoved her red locks over her thin shoulder.

“Aye.” Lauren nodded, looking around for Malcolm. “I feel much better.”

“I saved a biscuit for ye.” Kathleen held it out.

“Thank ye.” Lauren accepted the offer with a smile. “I am starving.” Her mouth watered at the thought of biting into something edible. She had missed the noonday meal, and her stomach shrank like a dried prune. “I came up for a bit of fresh air.”

Deidra and Kathleen followed her to the rail as she bit into the hard biscuit. The bread was difficult to chew, more so than she was used to, but she wouldn’t complain. Her new friends were quiet as she ate in peace. She swallowed, wishing she had a cup of water.

When she rubbed the remaining crumbs from her hands, Deidra turned toward her. “Ye wept in yer sleep.”

“What did I say?” Lauren tensed, wondering if she revealed something she wasn’t ready to divulge.

“Ye cried out for Blair an’ kept apologizing for leaving her be-
hind.” Deidra glanced at Kathleen. “Who is she?”

“Aye.” Lauren stared out at sea, swallowing back the aching cry lodged in her throat. When enough time passed to recover her voice, she searched for the right words. “Blair is my wee sister. I am all she has in this world, and I pray our da and brother will not poison her with their lies and deceit. I fear they will strangle her faith from her.” Lauren’s voice broke as she closed her eyes, determined not to shed more tears.

“Did ye raise her, then?” Kathleen asked.

“Aye, and shielded her from our da’s cruelty when I could. She does not remember Mither, so I shared my memories and taught her the faith Mither had taught me before she died giving birth to Blair.”

“Such a heavy burden for one so young. Ye must have only been a wee lass yerself,” Deidra said, leaning forward to peer at Lauren.

“I was eight, but Blair is now twelve.” Lauren laid a hand over her chest. “I do not want her to think I abandoned her.”

“How can she? Blair knows yer true character.” Deidra patted her shoulder. “Ye have naught to worry about.”

“I long for a bath and a warm fire to toast my toes.” Lauren wrap-
ped her arms around herself. “A change of clothes.”

Kathleen laughed with sarcasm, scratching her temple. “I doubt we will see the likes of that until we dock in the Carolinas, but we might be able to find some clothes.”

“Aye, at least we can come above deck an’ breathe the fresh air an’ see the sun,” Deidra said. “The poor souls in the hold will only have rations of air, food, and water ’til landfall. Even then, they will stay aboard ’til sold at auction.”

“Only if they live long enough to survive the journey.” Kathleen twisted her lips in a frown. “To think I was almost one of them. I was a pence short for my passage, but someone paid it for me. Now I shall get a chance at my dream of being a schoolteacher in Carolina.” She shrugged. “I never got to attend university, but the women I worked for taught me to read and do mathematics.”

“I guess my situation could be worse.” Conviction ripped through Lauren’s heart. “I have always had more than enough. Mayhap, ’tis why Malcolm has always despised me so much, that and my Campbell name.”

“I do not care if ye live like a princess,” Deidra said. “Ye do not deserve this. He is a blackhearted scoundrel, he is.”

“Nay,” Lauren shook her head, surprised by the venom in her friend’s voice. “Malcolm is forgiven by Christ, and we should forgive him as well.”

“Ye’re one o’ them righteous women, are ye?” Deidra asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “I say go ahead an’ forgive him for his past wrongs, but do not let ’im keep hurtin’ ye. Learn from livin’, my mither always said.”

“Malcolm has paid for my passage.” She gave her new friends a sad smile. “I am afraid ’tis already too late. As far as he is concerned, he has bought me.”

Malcolm found Hugh MacKinnon on the quarterdeck at the wheel. Approaching him from the side, Malcolm could only see his profile and beard. He hoped the man was in a good mood. Mr. MacKinnon turned and with a steady gaze watched Malcolm approach. Malcolm stood four inches above Mr. MacKinnon and hoped the man wouldn’t be intimidated by his height. In his experience, many often were, and it had caused him trouble, especially with the less confident ones.

“What brings ye hither, Mr. MacGregor?” The first mate lifted a dark brow. “I would wager there is much more fun to be had below deck.”

“We found a cabin for Miss Campbell, but she has no place to sleep,” Malcolm said. “I was hoping ye might have a hammock I could install for her.”

“I am sure we can find something.” Mr. MacKinnon nodded in agreement. “Let me ask ye something . . . what exactly is yer relationship to the lass? Ye are not her brother or her husband?”

Malcolm tensed, wondering about the purpose of questioning. “Nay, I am neither, but as she said, we knew each other as children.” Malcolm wanted to say that he looks out for her like a brother, but how could he claim it after what he’d done and planned to do when they reached Carolina? He had no rights regarding Lauren, but that didn’t change the fact he wanted to try and protect her until he exchanged her for his mother. Sailors already watched her. Had Mr. MacKinnon taken a liking to her as well?

“So yer argument was not a lovers’ quarrel?” Mr. MacKinnon’s lips twitched in a devilish grin. “That pleases me.”

“She is not like the others.” Malcolm hastened to add, disliking the man’s apparent interest. “She is verra religious an’ comes from a well-bred, aristocratic family.”

“How can ye defend them when she herself admitted how her family wronged ye?” Mr. MacKinnon asked, shaking his head with a chuckle. “If you worry about her innocence, you should not have let her come aboard without the protection of yer name, either as her brother or husband. Now she is fair game to any man who may want her, and sometimes a little convincing is all that is needed.”

“Are ye sayin’ ye’ve designs on the lass yerself or merely warnin’ me of yer sailors?” Malcolm crossed his arms and stepped closer, meeting Mr. MacKinnon’s dark eyes with a fierce glare of his own.

“Both.” His twisted grin infuriated Malcolm, but he held his temper in check. Sailors like Mr. MacKinnon enjoyed throwing around their authority on the ships they sailed. Outnumbered and outranked, Malcolm would have to do his best to protect Lauren’s innocence by his wits.

“Thanks for the warning.” Malcolm gave the sailor a nod. “What about the hammock? Where can I find it?”

“Go toward the mizzenmast and follow the steps below. Take the hallway toward the back of the ship. The third door on the right will be a storage room with a crate of hammocks.” Mr. MacKinnon cut a skeptical glance at him. “Should I send a sailor with you? I doubt you have the proper tools to mount it.”

“Nay.” Malcolm shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to encourage sailors to happen upon Lauren’s cabin. He would make do on his own. “I am a peasant Scotsman an’ used to making do.”

“Suit yourself.” Mr. MacKinnon shrugged, his dark hat angled to the side of his head. “I have work to do.”

Malcolm followed the directions Mr. MacKinnon had given. The lower compartment on the backside of the ship smelled of molded wood and rotten food. He sniffed, wondering if he should be worrying about their meals. He lit a lantern hanging on a hook and grabbed it. Flour sacks lined the corner so at least their bread would be fresh. Other stocked barrels lined the hallway as he came to the third door. Though not locked, it groaned and took a bit of muscle with Malcolm shoving a shoulder against the heavy wood. It gave way, stirring up a cloud of dust and a musty stench. He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

A crate of coiled rope laid over another crate of hammocks hanging over the edges. Chests were stacked on one side with barrels on the other. Malcolm lifted the lid on one of the chests and found various tools inside. He sifted through them until he located something that would mount the hammock.

He removed the crate of ropes and sorted through the hammocks. He tossed a number to the side that had holes and needed repairs. After he’d gone through a handful, he discovered one that would hold Lauren’s weight without putting her safety at risk. He righted the crates and put everything back.

Malcolm hurried through the dark hall and climbed the steps. He set the lantern back on the peg by the steps where he found it. If he wanted to hang the hammock before Lauren and the other lasses returned to their cabin, he’d better hurry.

Lauren stepped inside the cabin with her friends and paused. Hanging from the ceiling was a hammock. The thick, corded rope swayed with the movement of the ship. She exchanged glances with Deidra and Kathleen, wondering if she was to sleep in it. Tears stung her eyes. She blinked several times. Her throat muscles constricted in rebellion.

“The ship is out of beds an’ I thought this would suffice.” She didn’t have to turn around to recognize Malcolm’s deep, masculine voice.

Lauren closed her eyes, unable to meet his gaze just now. He already thought her a spoiled lass who had only known a good life of pampering. She would have to muster up enough strength to show that it didn’t matter—that sleeping in a hammock like a sailor didn’t bother her.

“Ye do not have to sleep in that thing,” Deidra said. “We could share my bed.”

“Nay, I do not want to be a burden.” Lauren wished her tone sounded more confident.

“Ye’re not a burden,” Deidra said. “ ’Tisn’t proper for a genteel lady to sleep like that.” She pointed to the swaying hammock.

“Lauren, may I speak with ye—alone?” Malcolm asked.

“Can it not wait until the morning?” Lauren turned and gave him a weary look. Anger coursed through her. It took all her strength to crush it.
I will not hate him.