The Highlander’s Pirate Bride (Sparks and Tartans #10)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

H e dipped his head with grace and certainty and took her lips in a tender kiss. Aileen lost herself, sinking into the warmth of his body in an embrace that was at once wistful and dreamy, yet compelling and profound. Her senses reeled at the touch of his hands on her skin, the sound of his soft breath, his taste of honey and whisky and his rugged scent of peat and the earth.

It was as if a spell was being woven around them.

All the bristling antagonism, the sparring and testing they’d been dealing with since that first meeting floated away, lost somewhere at sea or in the clouds. It was a longed-for moment of heartfelt surrender to whatever possibilities existed between them.

They opened slowly to each other, their tongues joining in a delicate exploration of exquisite, slow-burning intimacy.

This was not a kiss of passion – although rivers of heat surged and rushed beneath it – but a melding of souls, a generous coming together that warmed Aileen’s heart. Feeling Maxwell’s lips on hers and his arms around her, all the hurt and shame that had whispered to her for so long and kept her bound in servitude to Andrew Sutherland, faded from her consciousness. What replaced them was a sense of being cherished, of being held dear, of being placed in high esteem.

When at last the kiss came to an end, she felt precious, almost shy as she looked up him, marveling in his beauty and what she glimpsed in his blue eyes. They were no longer ice-cold, but dark as a midnight sky.

She traced his perfect lips with her finger.

“I’ve never been kissed like that before.” Her voice came out low and husky in wonderment

He gave a soft chuckle. “Those are me words ye speak. That was a kiss like nay other.”

She joined him with a breathy chuckle of her own and nestled deeper into his arms. “I cannae believe that. How many lasses have ye bedded?”

“Nay idea.” He threw up a hand. “Too many tae count. The lasses were falling out of the trees as I walked in the woods and washing up on the waves as I sauntered on the beach.”

“Well, then,” she teased, “ye must have had many kisses as fine as ours.”

He laughed, looked to the ceiling, as if searching his memory. “Now that ye mention it, there was Morag. Or was it, Ellen? Or Sheonagh?”

It was impossible not to be impressed with the way his eyes crinkled with humor as he looked at her.

“Pshaw. Ye cannae forget such a kiss.”

His eyes grew serious. “Ye’re right, Aileen. There’s never been such a kiss. That’s the reason I cannae forget it.”

She was no good at this kind of soft talk. Teasing and sparring she could do with no problem, but when it came to words of love and romance, she grew afraid. She dared not give her heart to any man. The pain of loss would be too great. Besides, tomorrow they’d be in Dunrobin, where God alone knew what their fate would be.

“So, when was it ye left yer family?” She asked, striving to move away from matters of the heart to safer territory. And she was curious about this man. Now that she’d opened up to him – at least part of her had done so – she wished to know more.

There was a long pause before he answered. As she looked deep into his eyes, she glimpsed the hurt in them.

She took his hand. “I’ve nay wish tae cause ye tae revisit painful memories.”.

“Nae lass. Dinnae fash. Whose life is without sadness at times? I will tell ye a little about mine.” He kept her hand in his and squeezed it gently. “I was twelve years old when me Mam died. I remember well the day I was called from me lessons by Friar Gospatrick and given the news.” His brow was furrowed as the memory took over. “I thought I was in trouble fer sure. But it was worse than anything I could have thought of as punishment. Me Mam was lovely. There are times, even now, when I smell her scent. Sometimes she smelled like roses and at other times like lavender. She was a kind soul who always thought well of me.”

“And then ye were sent away?”

“Aye. After Mam was gone, Faither was broken, and a young lad was more than he wished to deal with. Everard was a little older at sixteen, and he’d been away as a squire, so he was brought home.”

“Was it hard?”

“It was an honor to be sent to the Laird MacAulay as a squire.” He laughed. “I didnae take kindly to it then, and it was far from Barra. But I learned ten times more with the hard men at MacAulay’s castle than I’d have ever learned at me home.” He pulled aside his shirt, exposing a fine white scar that ran in a diagonal line across his chest. “That was how I was trained to use me claymore.”

She traced the line, her fingers brushing the thicket of dark hair on his chest. “And how…”

He shook his head when she went to speak. “Nay more questions lass. Ye ken the rest of me story. Years on the battlefield fighting fer the French and then fer Wallace. I returned to Barra when me faither met his fate and Everard became the Laird. Me sister was married by then, so it was just me and Everard.”

A shadow came over his face and she placed her hand on his broad forearm. “I didnae wish tae arouse sad memories. I was only curious about how it was that ye left Barra all those years ago.”

He gave a wry nod. “And now ye ken it.” He cupped her chin in one big hand. “And what of ye? What is yer story? I only ken ye were raised a pirate along with the ruffians on the Small Isle.”

“So ye think me a ruffian, dae ye?”

Laughing, he tousled her hair. “Aye, the Ruffian Queen of the Pirates.”

She shook her head. “I was never allowed to spend time with the smugglers and the pirates on the island. Me faither didnae think they were good company fer his lass and lad, me dear braither Gregory. We had a fine house.” Her eyes grew misty as her thoughts took her back. “Sadly, me faither fell on hard times. He had debts. I didnae ken he owed his fortune tae Sutherland.”

“And now Laird Sutherland holds yer faither to keep ye in thrall tae him.” He grew thoughtful at that. “’Tis time this fine laird of yers learned that the world doesnae belong tae him.”

“We’ll be in the clutches of that man soon enough.” She looked up, brightening with a smile. “Let us nae waste our precious moments with further talk of him.” A shudder rippled through her and she snuggled closer to Maxwell.

Mayhap with Maxwell wi’ us, I can dare hope things may change.

“I’m thinking it will be morning soon and we could be cozy together under the covers until dawn.”

He planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “’Tis a bonny idea. Will ye let me hold ye?”

“Mmm.” Her eyes were already closing as she moved into his encircling embrace.

The day dawned grey and clear. When Maxwell and Aileen forced themselves out of the warm feather bed they had shared, the tavern was already buzzing.

Tam was serving porridge and oatcakes with jam to the crew, with a mug of hot mead to wash it down. At the sight of their captain in the company of Maxwell, the hubbub of voices hushed, and one or two of the men looked up, eyes wide, but they quickly regained their interest in breaking their fast and the voices started up again.

They joined Finn and Séamus at the table they’d dined at the previous night. Finn shot Aileen a knowing look, but her only response to her friend’s curiosity was a noncommittal shrug. It would be fine to let Finn wonder what had passed between herself and Maxwell. For, whatever it was, she had no words for it.

Finn’s eyes were on Aileen’s arms, partly hidden by the long sleeves of her blouse.

She leaned in, whispering. “Ye’re nae wearing yer gloves.”

Aileen shook her head. “They’ve gone from me life. I dinnae wish tae wear them any longer.”

Séamus looked up, a smile spreading over his rugged features. “Aileen, that is good tae hear. Ye’re daeing the brave and good thing. There’s naught fer ye tae hide. Ye came by each of yer scars honorably and ye can wear them with pride and hold yer head up.”

Maxwell, hearing the comment, joined in. “Aye,” he said softly, “I’ve told her they are beautiful. Each scar tells us of her courage in standing up against Sutherland’s evil cruelty. What ye say is true”. He turned to Aileen. “Wear the scars without shame, lass.”

Tears sprang to Aileen’s eyes at the kindness the three showed her. She acknowledged their words with a nod. The scars spoke of her defiance, yet the gloves had become a symbol of her submission. She could only wonder what Sutherland’s response would be when he saw her bare arms.

They turned their attention to their porridge and oatcakes. Although it was tempting to tarry over their meal, it would do no good to delay their departure. She preferred sailing in daylight. And the days were short enough this time of year. No matter what the weather had in store, they’d make Dunrobin today.

“I’ve filled a barrel wi’ hot water fer those of ye who wish tae wash.” Tam said, keeping his voice low. Opportunities for bathing were rare and for most of the crew they’d not done more than splash their hands and faces since the cold weather had closed in. As many of them were sewn into their undergarments fer the winter, a full-body wash was only to be dreamed of.

“That’s an opportunity too good to miss,” Aileen said. Beside her, Finn nodded. “I relish the thought of warm water.” She got to her feet, followed by Finn.

Maxwell also rose. “I’d welcome a splash meself, I’m tired of all this salt drying on me skin.

“Well, ye’re nay sailor or else ye’d favor the salt.” Finn put up a hand. “Ye must wait yer turn.” Then she turned and scurried after Aileen who was already walking toward the door. “Ye’ll get yer chance before the other men.”

With Finn holding up her cloak for privacy, Aileen stripped naked and stepped into the barrel. The water came up almost to her shoulders and for a few moments she reveled in the warmth, allowing the water to flow like silk over her skin.

Tam had provided them with a sliver of precious rosewater soap and she stepped out of the water, lathered all over and stepped back in to the water to rinse. Once she was done, she dried herself on the linen towel Tam had left them. Already shivering in the icy air, she speedily donned her clothes, before holding Finn’s cloak so she could do the same.

As Finn re-entered the inn, Maxwell hurried out.

“The water willnae be warm fer long so ye’d best make haste,” Aileen said.

He draped his cloak over a nearby branch of a tree. Then, undoing the tie at his throat and unlacing his shirt he pulled it over his head and tossed it over to her. Without thinking, she caught it. Then he undid his belt and unwound his kilt and tossed the length of plaid to her. Now he stood by the tub naked, save for his woolen socks and his boots, which he then removed.

It was impossible to turn her gaze away from him. Hardly able to breathe at the sight of his powerful body as he ladled himself with the water, she was suddenly seized with an urge to run her hands over his slick, wet, shoulders, his wide back and the firm curve of his buttocks. Her fingers tingled as she gazed upon the eagle now fully revealed, wings spread, covering his shoulder and neck and, as he turned, the MacNeil coat of arms became fully visible on his chest. There were sigils and symbols there she did not understand. Mayhap one day she’d take the time to ask him about them.

He turned to face her fully and she gasped at the sight of his powerful shaft, half erect as he looked back at her, a bold grin on his face.

She huffed, averting her eyes as she handed him his plaid and shirt.

“Hasten to put on yer clothes MacNeil, if ye’re nae aboard when we’re ready to sail, ye’ll be spending yer days and nights here wi’ Tam.” Pulling her cloak around her she turned to go.

He laughed. “I dinnae think ye’ll sail without me, lass. I’m far too precious tae ye.”