For Love or Loyalty: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 1 (7 page)

“Please, ’twill only take a few moments.” His gaze tugged at the edge of her heart. How could he look like both a bewildered lad and a handsome rogue who wanted to devour her heart? There were moments when Malcolm MacGregor scared her with more than the brawny muscle and physical power he could wield. The emotional lure he had on her was more frightening, harkening an attraction she wanted to deny.
Lord, protect me.

“Fine, but make it quick.” She strode out of the cabin and waited in the hall with her arms crossed.

“Not here. Too many ears are around us.” He grabbed her hand, led her down the hall, and up the stairs. The main deck was bare, with the exception of a few sailors. Most of the passengers had gone below for the evening.

Strong hands reached around her waist. Lauren gasped in surprise as Malcolm lifted her upon a barrel. His gaze met hers as a long silence passed between them. An uncomfortable warmth stirred in her chest, heating her neck and face.

While his holding her like this gave her a sense of security, it was false. Malcolm was anything but safe. Had he not already proved that? She laid her hands on his and pushed him away. He looked down and shifted his stance. He seemed reluctant to meet her gaze and cleared his throat.

“I know the hammock is not as nice as what ye’re used to, but it was all I could do under the circumstances.”

“Do not apologize. Ye plan to sell me as an indentured servant, or have ye forgotten? It would not do to become concerned about my comforts at this point, now would it?” Her voice took on a hard edge.

“I know I do not deserve yer trust,” he said.

“Nay, ye do not.” She glared at him, hoping he could sense all her rekindled anger.

“Still, I intend to look after ye while ye’re in my care,” he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted him.

“Humph!” She shifted her fists to her hips and leaned forward. “Fine words from a liar. Ye need not act the gentleman now. By protecting me on this ship, ye’re protecting yer interests. Ye want me fine and healthy when it comes time to exchange me for yer mither. I am not as gullible as ye think.”

“Lauren, by purchasing yer passage on this ship, I saved ye from being thrown into the hold with all the other indentured servants who have sold themselves to pay for their passage to the colonies. I could have used the money to buy Carleen back and still exchange ye for Mither.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice to a dangerous pitch. Her heart thumped against her ribs. “That way I would get both of them back. I am not as bad as ye like to think.”

“Is that supposed to comfort me?” She lifted an eyebrow, her tone sarcastic and biting. He wanted to confuse her, to melt her defenses against him, but she wouldn’t allow it—she couldn’t. Not if she wanted to keep her heart safe. The man had betrayed her and would do it again if he thought the means justified it. She needed to find a balance, to forgive him the way Christ wanted without risking her heart and giving him trust he did not deserve.

“It should. Half of them will not survive the journey.” He gripped her shoulders and shook her. “Listen to me. They will be given rationed food of less quality than what we receive. They have no cabins or beds. Not even hammocks. They have a space no bigger than two by six feet to sleep on the floor with the rats. The only time they will be allowed to come up on deck is once a day for a short hour. Aye, yer paid passage should be a comfort to ye, even if it came about the way it did.”

Lauren’s head tingled as the blood drained from her face. “If what ye say is true, then ’tis no comfort to me at all.” A shiver raced up her spine. “How can I enjoy the comfort of my situation when so many are suffering below—dying even?”

Malcolm sighed, stepping back and rubbing his face. “I did not tell ye this to make ye feel guilty, but to help ye understand that I did the best I could.” He dropped his head and rubbed his neck. “In spite of what ye think of me.”

“I will not say what I think of ye.” She looked away, unable to meet his hazel eyes. How could the man who wanted to protect her from the vile conditions in the hold be the same as the man who wanted to sell her into indentured service? It didn’t make sense. In contrast, why hadn’t she even given the people in the hold more thought? When she first came aboard, there were many more people. It was as if half of them disappeared. “I should have wondered what happened to all the people I saw boarding.” She shook her head, now disgusted with herself. “I was so caught up in what was happening to me that I did not pay attention . . . I did not think about it.”

“I am afraid there is more.” Malcolm ran a hand through his russet-colored hair. In the mixture of the light from the moon and the nearby lantern, it almost looked like the color of a pumpkin.

“I do not wish to hear more,” she said.

“Well, ye must. It concerns ye.” He took a deep breath. “Mr. MacKinnon said ye’re at risk on board with no protection of a kinsman. Be careful around the sailors. I do not want ye goin’ anywhere on this ship by yerself. Take one of yer friends with ye at all times.”

“I see.” She nodded, feeling a sudden discomfort. Lauren slid off the barrel, ready to go back to her cabin and rest. She wrung her hands at the distressing news.

“And, Lauren, be wary of Mr. MacKinnon himself. I dislike the way he was talking ’bout ye when he warned me.”

“What do ye mean?” She paused, her heart pounding. Was she in trouble? Did he suspect her story to be false? She scratched the side of her neck, hating the nervous itch.

“He implied he might not be above indecent behavior with a bonny lass such as yerself. Just be careful.” He held out his elbow. “I know I am not a proper gentleman, but I shall walk ye back to the cabin just the same.”

Darkness claimed the cabin as Malcolm lay in his hammock swinging back and forth. The ship sailed over the swelling sea, and his thoughts kept returning to Lauren. Malcolm had always resented her visiting and bringing them food. He was too proud to admit they needed it. Instead of being thankful and gracious, he had kept to the fields or prowled the village to avoid her.

His mother and sister always looked forward to Lauren’s visits. She told them news of the outside world, and his mother shared her wisdom and faith. The few times he managed to witness their discussions, Lauren sat on a wooden chair with her chin propped in her hand at the table like a doting child. Her cousin Keith always lounged in a corner or paced outside.

Malcolm wondered whether his mother survived the trip. She and Carleen would have been dumped in the hold and left to suffer like criminals caged in the dark. His heart ached at the thought. An image of Graham’s battered face came to mind. He hoped Thomas would get him safely to Glenstrae and to their uncle before the Campbells returned.

Sleep evaded him, but he forced himself to relax as the hammock swayed. It was better than being tossed to and fro on a hard bed or dealing with bed bugs. Aye, a hammock would be better for Lauren whether or not she realized it. Her blue eyes taunted him like a burning torch in his soul. She confused, irritated, and gnawed at his insides with guilt until he wanted to protect her and amend his ways, but it was too late. The MacGregors had already stolen her and infuriated the Campbells. They would seek revenge, and he needed to save his mother and sister.

His cabinmates stirred. One of them lit a dim lantern. Other than Logan, Malcolm met Archibald Clark and Patrick Stewart when he returned to his cabin after dealing with Lauren. Archie swung in the hammock beside him, scratching his red head. The lad was young at ten and eight, but he had lots of energy.

“Good mornin’, lads.” Patrick’s wispy voice floated across the room, still filled with sleep. He rubbed his eyes and blinked.

“Lads? I am five years yer senior,” Malcolm said. “And who lit that lantern so early?”

“Aye.” Logan groaned. “If I do not have to be up to plow a field afore dawn, I might as well sleep in a wee bit.”

“I set it on dim. Stop yer complainin’. Ye sound like a bunch o’ lasses, ye do.” Archie leapt out of his hammock and stood, stretching his arms. “I am starvin’. Ye had better get up if ye wanna break yer fast.”

“I like yer spunk, my friend,” Patrick said, yawning. “I think I shall grab a bite to eat and write my journal for yesterday. I plan to keep an account of the trip and sell my articles to the newspapers when I arrive in the colonies.”

“Just as long as it does not contain any of our personal lives.” Malcolm lifted a finger, pointing in his direction. The last thing he needed was the Campbells reading about them. He had no doubt that Duncan would find him, but he wanted the man to work at it as he wondered about Lauren’s fate.

“I will not use names if that bothers ye.” Patrick sighed, running his fingers through his blond locks. “Malcolm MacGregor, ye can be a testy one, I see.”

“Aye.” Malcolm stretched his cramped legs and arms. “An’ do not be forgettin’ it either.”

“Go on with the lot o’ ye. I am tryin’ to get some sleep.” Logan threw his plaid over his head.

“I shall break my fast as well. No tellin’ what kind of mischief Miss Lauren Campbell has waiting for me today.” Malcolm grinned as he swung his legs over the hammock. His bare feet hit the cold wooden floor. He winced in distaste.

“Ye had better make yerself more presentable than ye are right now.” Patrick chuckled. “In fact, I am looking forward to meeting the lass. Yer sister, too, Logan.”

“Argh!” came the response from the beneath the plaid.

“Never mind him.” Malcolm stood and raised his arms above his head. His joints popped, loosening his muscles. Now he felt better. “I shall introduce ye to them. Just mind yer manners.”

Up on deck a few people leaned over the rails. Sailors were busy with various tasks, but they didn’t miss whistling as Lauren and her cabinmates appeared. Malcolm’s stomach tightened in knots as he remembered Mr. MacKinnon’s warning. Lauren’s golden hair coiled and lifted in the wind, striking a bright contrast to her red cloak. Her high cheekbones and pearl white skin gave her a regal beauty he should have seen before. At least her blue eyes looked well rested as she scanned the deck. He wondered if she looked for him or if she surveyed her surroundings out of general curiosity.

Her gaze landed on him. She paused. He took a deep breath, wishing things could have been different between them. Their births into opposing clans had always separated them. Her wealth and his poverty created an even deeper divide. Before, only circumstances were against them, but now, he made it personal. Lauren Campbell had every reason to hate him, and the knowledge didn’t sit well with him.

“Come, lads, I shall make the introductions.” Malcolm strode toward the women. Deidra twisted her lips into a sour expression but forced a smile when acknowledging his cabinmates. Kathleen’s greeting turned out to be more welcoming.

Once the introductions were over, Archie drew Lauren into conversation with his animated chatter. Patrick and Kathleen seemed to find common ground regarding their studies. As an aspiring writer, he approved her goal to be a teacher.

“Where is my brother?” Deidra asked, stepping in line beside Malcolm where they waited for a cup of black coffee and a biscuit.

“If he does not have to get up to plow a field afore sunrise, he would just as soon sleep,” Malcolm said.

“Sounds like him.” Deidra grinned. “I shall save half my biscuit for ’im.”

“Ye do not like me, do ye?” Malcolm asked, determined to air their grievances. He preferred to know his enemies, not guess at them.

“On the contrary, I am sure I would like ye fine if I had met ye under better circumstances.” Deidra turned a green-eyed gaze at him. “I dislike what ye’re doing to Lauren.”

“I am not happy ’bout it either, but I shall do what I must to save my mither an’ sister. At least her family can afford to buy her back. My family does not have that luxury.”

When her cabinmates went below, Lauren stayed on deck where she could enjoy the fresh sea air and the bright sunshine. She missed her long walks around the estate of Kilchurn Manor as well as the long talks with Blair. The breeze lifting off the ocean’s surface gave her chills, but it was just what she needed after spending the night in a stuffy cabin.