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

Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

A ileen seized Finn in a giant hug, their arms holding tight, while Seamus stood watching, his smile ever-widening. Pulling back to gaze at these two who’d been lost to her for so long, a million questions were spinning in her mind.

“I cannae believe ye’re here. How did ye find me? How did ye escape from Sutherland?” She frowned. “Ye’re nae hurt?”

Finn’s eyes sparkled. “Nae lass, we’re nae hurt and now all the better fer seeing ye so well.”

A serving-maid appeared in the passageway with a tray of sweetmeats and flagons of mead and the four adjourned to the comfortable chairs by the fire.

Once they were seated Maxwell raised a hand. “I ken ye have much tae discuss, but there are pressing matters that we need to learn from Finn and Seamus.” He turned to Aileen. “If ye can curb yer curiosity fer a wee while, and if ye can hold off wi’ yer story, me braither Everard and Arne are waiting to hear it. And…” He offered a wry grin. “…tae learn from ye what we can of Sutherland’s plans.”

Seamus folded his arms wearily. “There is much tae tell ye, but I ken that, as War Chief, ye need tae hear of Sutherland’s plans.” He looked at Finn and she gave a tiny nod. “There is much tae discuss.”

“Aye I can curb me curiosity fer a wee bit longer except fer one thing.”

“I ken. Ye wish tae hear how yer faither fares.”

Aileen turned to Finn. “Daes me faither still live?”

Finn nodded. “He lives. He is now a prisoner on the island of Canna at Sutherland’s disposal.”

Aileen took a steadying breath. Me faither is alive. Thank the Lord. She lifted her head, straightening her spine. “Then let us meet the laird and converse on the subject of war.”

Everard, Arne, Raven and Ranald Dunbar were gathered in Everard’s study, seated at his big table when Maxwell and the others entered.

Everard rose as they took their seats. “Flying the Sutherland flag as ye were, ye were fortunate we didnae dispense wi’ ye as soon as ye entered Chaisteill Bagh. “

Ranald Dunbar got to his feet. “Our scouts had spied the birlinn approaching and we made ready tae fight. As it was only one, we waited without attacking. When me men went alongside, this lass…” He indicated Finn who was sitting quietly, her hands on her lap, taking in every word. “…convinced us she was a friend of milord Maxwell, and that they, and all the crew, were loyal tae their captain, Aileen MacLeod and wished nay association with Sutherland. All weapons were handed over. The oarsmen put up their oars and each one pledged unswerving loyalty tae Captain MacAlpin.” He searched their faces finding only approval. “So, I brought them tae ye.”

“Ye did what was right. Thanks tae ye and yer men, Dunbar.” Once Dunbar was seated again Everard turned to Finn and Seamus. “Now we are ready tae hear yer story. Our War Chief, Maxwell MacNeil, is eager tae find out what ye ken of Sutherland’s plans.”

Seamus spoke first. “I can give yer War Chief numbers of men and ships, but Finn can give ye more detail about his plans. The Laird Sutherland is gathering his troops and has already amassed a mighty army. He has most of his fleet moored at the Isle of Canna, and there are more yet tae come, delayed by the harsh weather.” He nodded to Finn. “She will give ye more insight intae what he has planned.”

Finn rose, brushed an auburn strand behind her ear, eased the collar of her shirt, and began. “Since ye two escaped from Dunrobin, Sutherland has been a crazed man. His only thought is tae capture ye both. He wishes torture and death upon ye. He thought Aileen was taken against her will but nae fer long.”

At this there was a hush in the room, the sound of indrawn breath followed by slow exhales. Finn’s matter-of-fact-words sent a chill through Maxwell’s heart. “He kens ye are here, and now his vengeance has expanded to the entire MacNeil clan, women and bairns as well as yer farmers and crofters. His men have been instructed tae spare nay one.” She looked around as her terrible words sank in. This was indeed even more dire than Maxwell had been prepared for.

Finn continued. “Word has come tae him that his old enemies, the MacLeods, are planning tae assist the MacNeils with reinforcements of men and ships and he will sail as soon as the tides are favorable tae besiege the castle afore ye can be reinforced.”

Arne bristled at this. “And what of me Clan’s reinforcements?” He gave an indignant huff.

“Sutherland has enough men to meet the MacLeods at sea. His is arrogant and confident he will be yer master.” She glanced at Maxwell. “When ye’re ready, I’ll make ye a map.”

Everard thanked both Finn and Seamus for their words. “Our housekeeper has been instructed tae find ye a bedchamber.” He glanced at them both. “I cannae offer ye two chambers, this is a small castle as ye can see.” A grin passed between the two lovers, which made Maxwell give Aileen a knowing glance and he felt warmth seeping into his bones, replacing the chill, remembering the Flying Fish tavern.

“One chamber will dae us fine,” Seamus, nodded, getting to his feet and joining Finn at the door. He bowed as Finn curtseyed low and they left the study.

Raven was trembling and could scarcely hold her mug. Aileen reached over and clasped Raven’s hand. “Dinnae be afraid. Yer braither Maxwell is a fearsome warrior and a canny war chief. He, the laird and yer husband will nae be defeated by a coward such as Sutherland.”

Raven turned her pale face to Aileen. “I pray ye are right and we will prevail against this evil man.”

Everard, seemingly aware of Raven’s distress addressed her. “Sister, it seems we will be in great need of yer skills. Are the preparations well in hand fer a possible siege of Kiessimul Castle?”

“Orders have been given. I will go now if ye will excuse me and discover what preparations have been made and make sure we are ready if Sutherland should attack and besiege Kiessimul and attack the Clan lands on Barra.”

Once she had left there was further discussion. Maxwell wished to talk further with both Finn and Seamus once they had settled in. They had a great deal of information concerning where on the island Sutherland had set up his camp, where the different vessels were moored, and where the men were camped.

The day wore on as plans were mooted and discarded, each of them adding to the strategies and tactics Maxwell was considering.

“One thing is certain, we mustnae waste any time in choosing our path of action. While the castle can withstand a siege as it has in the past, our people have little protection. Sutherland’s men would be able to hunt them down in the hills. We ken the MacLeods willnae be here fer many days and we cannae wait fer them. We must act now.” Maxwell turned to Ranald Dunbar. “The tides?”

Dunbar shook his head. “There’s nay joy there. The moon is almost full and the tide will be at its highest in less than two days.”

There was a groan from Maxwell. “If Sutherland plans to ride on the tide, we must act quickly before he has the chance to sail. Once he is at sea with his fleet, we have only faint hope we can prevail. I say we sail before midnight this night.”

All of them, including Aileen, nodded gravely.

Throughout the afternoon a bold plan took shape. Arne, Aileen, Everard and Maxwell would sail a fisherman’s wee boat to the Isle of Canna. Counting on surprise to aid them, they would seize Sutherland and take him prisoner.

After a brief rest, Finn and Séamus rejoined the group. With guidance provided by Séamus, they worked out the place they would land. This was some distance from the ship moorings, where they were unlikely to be discovered. From there they would make their way stealthily to Sutherland’s camp. Finn was able to advise on the least guarded pathway and Séamus was able to give details of exactly how many men were encamped and the number they would find along the track.

The familiar sensations crawled through Maxwell’s body. The inner preparation for a battle that was looming. His senses sharpened and at once he smelled smoke from the fire, the faint aroma of mice in the corners, the mead in the pewter vessels, and the sweaty, musty, scent of men mixed with the delicate feminine scent of wildflowers. His ears pricked at the sound of the crackling fire and, outside, the cawing of gulls and crows, the gentle waves lapping at the castle walls.

The blood pounded in his ears and he felt his heart lifting at the prospect of dealing with Andrew Sutherland at last. His fingers tingled to hold his claymore, dirk and axe.

They were served a hearty supper in the great hall. While the men ate heartily, Raven and Aileen could hardly stomach the meal of roast fowl, parsnips and beets, followed by almond custard and jellies.

Arne offered comforting words to Raven, “Dinnae fear lass, we’ll be silent as the night, nae body will track our sail and we’ll overcome Sutherland in a trice, bound and gag him and set him on our wee boat. We’ll be back tae ye by morning, safe and sound.”

He could not fool Raven, however. “Ye talk nonsense, Arne. I wish wi’ all me heart it was so, but even tae sail tae Canna is nae without its perils. Fer all ye ken, the Sutherlands are lining the waves across.”

Maxwell intervened. “Sister, yer man wishes tae set yer mind at ease. We’re all fine soldiers who can be light of foot when the situation calls fer it. We’re warriors, we will win as we have all of ye in our hearts tae strengthen us. We will return.” He glanced at Arne. “Mayhap nae before dawn.”

Raven nodded her head, dashing away a tear with the back of her hand. “Of course,” she managed a watery smile. “Ye will triumph. I have nay doubt.”

Aileen, who knew too well the perils they faced, pasted on a brave smile and nodded her agreement. It was not long before both she and Raven took their leave.

They parted company in the passageway outside Aileen and Maxwell’s bedchamber. Raven leaned over and planted a kiss on Aileen’s cheek. “Me and me wean-tae-come wish ye and the others god’s speed.” She sniffed, and the tears rolled down her cheeks.

Aileen patted her arm. “We’ll take good care of yer husband.”

Raven shook her head. “’Tis all of ye I care fer. Ye, me braithers and me husband. Me heart will be travelling wi’ ye.”

After she’d bade goodnight to Raven, Aileen changed into her nightshift and took a seat by the fire, dozing, waking, dreaming, wishing Maxwell was beside her. Shivering, she placed another log on the already blazing fire.

She gave a deep sigh. After all their desperate running and hiding and at last finding sanctuary at Kiessimul, it had come to this. An almost hopeless quest into the perilous depths of Sutherland’s territory. Yet there was no other way. A siege would put them all in grave danger and risk the lives of all who dwelled along the shore and across the Island of Barra.

Sutherland would never rest until he’d made them all pay the highest price for their defiance.

Her heart lightened at the thought of her father on the Isle of Canna. His home. Mayhap he’d already sent a message to his brother and his nephews and they would come to his aid if need be. She longed to see him again and to take his frail hand in hers.

She was wakened from a dreamy sleep by a soft kiss on her lips. Opening her eyes, her heart bounced at the sight of Maxwell standing before her in the firelight, his hair to his shoulders, his hands gripping his claymore, a smile dancing across his lips as he looked on her.

“Come tae bed lass. We’ve a few hours yet before we set sail.”

She sat up. “I’ll nae be lying wi’ ye in a soft feather bed until ye put down that wicked claymore of yers, MacNeil.”

He laughed, replacing the sword in its scabbard and leaving it on the table beside his buckler. He divested himself of his dirk in his leather belt and another smaller dagger from the top of his boot. His battle-axe he’d left propped against the wall by the door.

With that, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed, where he laid her on the covers. He unlaced his shirt and pulled it over his head and off, treating her to the sight of his muscular torso with its myriad inked stories. He unbuckled his kilt and let it drop to the floor.

Aileen looked at him. “Ye’re a tall, fearsome warrior, with those ink markings across yer broad chest and arms.” Her gaze travelled down to his granite-hard shaft. “Truly fearsome milord.”

He leaned over her placing his hands on either side of her head. “Are ye afeared?”

She chuckled. “Terrified.”

He snorted, disbelievingly.

She reached a hand to toy with the smattering of black hair on his chest. “Terrified that ye might find a lass ye like better than me.”

His face grew serious for a moment. “Nay, Aileen. That will never be.” He smiled. “Now, take off that wee smock ye’re wearing and let me gaze on her beauty.”

That night, there was a special tenderness in their lovemaking. Regardless of all the teasing, the giggles and the sighs, Aileen was all too aware that this could be their last time.

The poignancy in every kiss and every touch went straight to her heart. Her body reacted to his touch in ways she’d never experienced. It was almost as if she wanted to take all of him inside her. Not merely his tongue and his lips, his glorious hard shaft and his, calloused, clever fingers, but all of him, so that he was a part of her and they could never be separated.

He moaned and stroked her hair back from her face. “Ye’re all gold in the firelight Aileen MacAlpin. Are ye a real woman, or something I’ve dreamed? A fairy creature that will disappear under the waves when me back is turned? A selkie from the sea?”

“I am naught but flesh and blood as well ye ken. Flesh and blood that aches fer ye.”

She wound herself into his arms, opening herself to him, calling his name over and over as the joy and wonder of what they shared took her to heights of bliss she’d never known a mere mortal could experience.

At last, they slept, and when the rough hammering on the door and Arne’s shouts of “Wake up ye lazy pillocks,” brought them to a startled waking, it felt as if they’d not slept a wink.

Her stomach somersaulted, and an icy stone settled in her chest.

It was time.