The Wicked Ways of Alexander Kidd (The MacGregors: Highland Heirs) (8 page)

Trina wasn’t sure if he was speaking to Gustaaf or to her.

“Where are ye taking me?” she asked, careful not to struggle, lest Kyle feel the need to come to her rescue. It seemed her cousin didn’t care that he was aboard a ship filled with pirates. He would still be a knight.

“Away from hungry gazes. Really, Miss Grant, how do ya manage to remain ignorant to the dangers of men?”

“Men were no danger to me in Camlochlin.”

He turned to look at her, reminding her by the way his eyes traced the contours of her face that he was the most dangerous man of all. “Well, ya’re not in Camlochlin. And while ya’re on me ship, ya’ll use more caution.”

He was correct. The men did peer at her like they had just seen a succulent doe traipsing into their den. But if he were going to dump them in France, she wouldn’t have to use caution much longer. Now that her kin would know
she was safe, she wished she could travel a bit more with the captain. Och, she could taste the adventure. For years she’d dreamed of sailing away from the safety of Camlochlin. She’d come aboard to see the ship, to imagine a different life. But actually being on
Poseidon’s Adventure
, smelling the sea, feeling the roiling pitch of the vast ocean beneath her feet, and the powerful pull of sails above her, well, it was just too hard to give up. She wouldn’t be a bother. She could cook, and clean, and if anyone came against them, she could lend her sword. She and Kyle had much to offer. If he would only let them stay until… say Spain. She would be in his debt.

“Ehm, Captain,” she said while they came upon, and then passed, a small group of his men lifting Jacques off the wet floor. “Speaking of my time on yer ship…”

I
didn’t know she was yars, Cap’n!”

Alex leaned over the deck and shook his head at the man dangling by his ankles from the foremast, high above the waves. “What matter of difference is there if she be mine or not, Jacques? We don’t rape women on the ship. Ya broke Article Eighteen and now ya’re bein’ punished. Be a man about it and don’t shame the crew.”

He stepped away, leaving Jacques to face his sentence alone. Alex didn’t care if the offense of actual rape had been committed or not. Now the others knew what they would face for laying a hand on her. She was a temptation to all, mostly him. Another reason she had to go.

Leading her to his cabin, he wondered if this possessive streak he felt for Caitrina Grant would get him into trouble. He understood why he might be suffering the madness of being attracted to a woman who wanted to steal from him. She was beautiful, with grace and innocence and fire all mixed together. Of course he wanted her, just looking at the tumble of her sable hair, the curve of her waist, the sway of her hips, made him ache to bed
her in every way possible. But why he would be plagued with worry for her well-being, he didn’t know. Hell, he’d even insisted she wear his tricorn to keep the sun off her wounded scalp. His tricorn! He must be going mad. He guessed one reason he might think he gave a damn about her was because he’d spent more hours with her already, talking and even sharing laughter, than any other woman he knew. And, if the damned truth be known, he liked her. Hell, he was in trouble.

“How long will he hang?” Kyle asked him, coming up behind.

Caitrina had invited her cousin to dine with them in his cabin. Alex had agreed because of all the prior requests she’d put to him that he’d refused. One of them being to let her and her cousin sail a se’nnight or two longer with him. She was mad. The last thing he wanted was a woman on his ship for a day longer than she needed to be there. He didn’t need the skills she offered in the galley or with a sword. He might consider keeping her for a bit longer if she offered him a more pleasurable means of repayment. But he couldn’t negotiate terms with her now with her cousin present.

“He’ll be lowered in three turns of the sandglass.” Alex turned to the Highlander. “Why do ya ask?” He didn’t trust this young ruffian not to pull his dagger on his men, and his men not to subsequently kill him. His duty as captain, one he shared with Sam, was to keep fighting to a bare minimum. The crew, including MacGregor, had to respect his authority or mayhem and mutiny would ensue.

“If ya start trouble that I’ve already ended, I’ll throw ya overboard meself. Savvy?”

The Highlander nodded, looking none too pleased
about the order. “Seeing his punishment, I trust ye to keep my cousin safe.”

“I dinna’ need either one of ye to keep me safe,” Caitrina huffed over her shoulder, presenting her profile beneath the brim of his hat. “I’m perfectly capable of defending myself.”

Behind her, Alex and Kyle exchanged knowing glances. They both knew she couldn’t fight a group of men if she had to, but neither corrected her.

“I appreciate ye both trying to protect me, but—”

“I’m simply keepin’ order on me ship,” Alex was quick to let her know. “I don’t want me men fightin’ over ya.”

She turned around to face him fully. He smiled at her, not giving a damn who saw or what they thought. “Pardon my initial assessment, Captain,” she said. “I hope ye dinna’ think me a foolish twit fer believing ye a man of honor.”

His smile widened while his skin grew tight around his bones. The slight arch of her brow and subtle flare of her nostrils made him ache to tame the hellcat lurking beneath her practiced smiles. But he didn’t want her tame for too long. He craved the fight she’d give him. He would never rape her. He simply wanted her surrender.

“I would not think ya a twit, Miss Grant. But why would ya ever think me a man of honor? If I gave ya that impression, I will do me best to correct it.”

His quick eyes noted her hands balled at her sides but she smiled as easily as if she just saw a school of dolphins when she spoke. “Dinna’ burden yerself with the needless task. I was being polite. I know what ye are.”

“Do ya, then?” he asked, amused, though he really wasn’t. A small part of him didn’t like that she thought she knew him. An even smaller part didn’t like the way she saw him. “Then ya know to expect little from me.”

He stepped around her and opened the door to his cabin. Why the hell did he just say that? Because he didn’t want to deceive her, though he was certain she was very masterfully deceiving him. She might be a thief or a spy but along with her fire she possessed an innocence the likes of which he’d never seen. Perhaps it was her huge blue eyes or the guileless curl of her dimpled smile that he thought innocent. He should be keeping his distance from her. But he found himself thinking of her after she’d left him at the helm, following her like a predator on the trail of its prey, but instead of devouring her, he attacked one of his own men…

That didn’t mean, when she moved past him through the door, that he didn’t want to kick out her cousin and devour her now.

He waited patiently for Kyle to enter and shut the door behind him. Alex was no good for her, not even for a night. He turned in time to watch her remove his hat. She winced and something inside him almost pulled him back to the deck to cut the ropes holding Jacques’s ankles.

“Take rest,” he told them both and crossed the room to a grand chest against the wall. He opened it and took out a jug of rum from Madagascar. “Robbie or Cooper will deliver our food soon. Hopefully, ’twill be free of bugs.” He winked at her and clapped Kyle on the back when the lad clutched his belly. “We may have to pierce yar other ear,” he said quietly, then, “Let’s share a drink while we wait on our supper.”

Caitrina let him pour the golden nectar into her cup but Kyle put his hand over it.

“None fer us, thank ye, Captain.”

“Why not, MacGregor?”

“Because I dinna’ want my cousin to be alone and
drunk with ye while I try to prove my skill against yer first mate—and fail because I, too, am drunk. If that’s yer plan then I must confess I canna’ trust ye to be fair and honorable between yer men and me.” Kyle stared up at him from across the table, surveying him, watching his reaction. “I will have to remain defensive.”

Alex wanted to laugh… or clap the lad on the back a second time for showing such bravery in his honesty. Finally, he gave in and laughed, softly. Men of honor, eh? Honorable men could be trusted. He sealed the jug after pouring himself a cup, and put the rest back from whence it came. Who the hell raised these two to be so confident, and rash, and fearless?

“If I wanted ya rendered helpless from a spirit, I’d be offerin’ ya some of me special gunpowder rum.” He smiled when both his guests’ faces paled. “Tell me, MacGregor, should I be concerned fer Mr. Bonnet?” He sat between them at the small candlelit table. “How well do ya fight, Highlander?”

“Verra’ well, Captain. But this is only a show of skill to gain worth and trust among yer men. I dinna’ wish to harm Mr. Bonnet.”

The lad was a fool! Why would he give away his plan? Their plan? “Why do ya want to gain worth and trust among them, MacGregor?” So that when he stole the map, some of the crew might turn to his side?

“Because fer as long as I travel with ye, my sword is at yer service. ’Tis a good aid in battle.”

Hell, Alex almost believed him. His candor was as fresh and convincingly honest as his cousin’s. They were likable, these two. Dangerous, but likable. Alex downed his rum. “Have ya been to battle then?”

“Aye, my uncles and cousins made all their sons fight
every day. My faither, ye met him in Camlochlin, Colin MacGregor?”

Alex nodded.

“He was once a general in King James’s army. He oversaw our mock battles, sometimes twenty lads on both sides. At first we practiced with wooden swords and then we moved on to metal. We all swung hard and with purpose, preparing for a day when true enemies came to Skye.”

Alex listened, understanding a little more about the place where Caitrina grew up, and the people who shaped her. “Who be yar true enemies?”

The lad shrugged his plaid-draped shoulders. “The English, and those who persecute us.”

“Aye.” Alex remembered the proscription. He would like to hear about it, but not now. Now he wanted to learn more about Caitrina.

“Did ya fight in these mock battles, too?” he asked her.

“When other duties allowed me time,” she told him. “We live in a peaceful vale in the midst of a cold, harsh world. I’ve never wanted to be helpless in it.”

He nodded, smiling at her because he understood and appreciated her spirit.

“But archery is my specialty,” she continued, emboldened by his smile. “Taught to me by my cousin, Will MacGregor, the most skilled archer in all of Skye, in all of Scotland, mayhap. And speaking of my skill, when may I have my bow and quiver returned to me?”

“When we get to France.”

He winked at her, ignoring her obvious ire, then returned his attention to MacGregor. “I will have a word with Mr. Bonnet before the competition to let him know ya don’t intend a fight to the death. If ya deceive me and
he is harmed, I’ll have a blade through yar heart before ya finish him off.”

“Ye can trust me, Captain,” Kyle countered with a wry smile. “But if it is I who is betrayed, I will not go down as easily as ye think. I promise, I will take as many as I can with me to the hereafter.”

“Ya have balls,” Alex told him, wondering if the Highlander had ever considered a pirate’s life.

Robbie arrived with their food, which consisted mostly of overripe apples, dried figs, some dried fish, and water. No bugs.

“Food goes bad and grows scarce fast here, but we should have enough to get us to France,” Alex told them.

While they ate, Alex questioned them some more about their home life. They told him about Camlochlin’s history and how their grandfather Callum MacGregor had built his fortress after escaping Liam Campbell’s dungeon and the war he declared on the Campbells after that.

“And yet he wed a Campbell?” Alex asked while he ate. “She must be an exceptional woman.”

“She is,” both Trina and Kyle answered.

“She was raised on tales of honor and glory,” Kyle told him. “And she passed those ideals down to her grandchildren.”

Alex arched a brow and turned the smirk curling the edges of his mouth toward Caitrina. “Was it honor or glory that night we met on the beach that made ya suggest to yar cousins that they shoot me or set the dogs on me after I surrendered?”

When she set her full attention on him and smiled, he sat back in his seat to enjoy the view and ready his head for what she was about to bring him. Here was the thing that attracted him to her more than any other: that
wide-eyed cherubic look changing into something far more threatening with a subtle tightening of her lips, a challenging spark in her eyes that promised a blazing fire if further passions were exposed.

He’d never wanted to kiss a woman more than he wanted to kiss her right now.

“’Twas honor, Captain,” she confessed with a hint of arrogance squaring her shoulders. “If ye knew anything aboot it, ye would understand that I was trying to protect my kin from an uninvited intruder. Ye would recognize what I did as loyalty, one of honor’s many codes. But since ye are a man who robs from others—”

“Plunders,” he corrected her. “I loot and pillage and plunder. Robbin’ is more civilized. A bit like boardin’ a ship to rob in secret and hopin’ to escape unscathed.”

Her smile cooled, proving she was trying to rile him and angry that she was failing. “There is nothing on this ship I want, Captain.”

“That will help me sleep tonight, Miss Grant.”

“Good. Now, as I was saying, since ye are a man who plunders, loots…”

She must have seen in his gaze his dark desire to do those things to her, for her words faded and a scarlet tinge crept across her cheeks.

She blinked her glorious eyes toward Kyle. Her cousin was busy eating and looking around the cabin and didn’t notice the silent exchange. He did, however, pick up the conversation between them.

“So, Trina,” Kyle teased, “ye did read a few of the books, then.”

“A few.”

“A few doesn’t make ya an authority, lass,” Alex pointed out to her.

“True.” She returned her attention to him, recovered. “But the little I know would take years to teach
ye
, pirate.”

“Neptune take me”—he laughed and rose from his seat when Sam entered the cabin—“if I ever find interest in learnin’ such useless values.”

“Cap’n?”

“Aye, Mr. Pierce?” Alex was reluctant to look away from her and miss the lightning shooting from her eyes.

She spoke about honor with some conviction, but judging from what he knew of her already, honor, with all its rigid codes—and he did know a few of them—had probably grown dull to her years ago. He doubted she cared one bit about propriety and custom.

Whatever she was doing on his ship, whether to rob him or to fulfill her sense of adventure, the fact remained that she had found a way to board in the middle of a loch. Once found, she never truly appeared overly frightened. And finally, the most telling thing of all that proved she wasn’t looking for a man of high moral standards was that knowing they were pirates, she’d asked him to let her stay with them beyond France.