Page 4 of Transporting a Ruthless Highlander
Struan closed his father’s staring eyes and drew the bloody sheet over his face. Then, with nothing else to do but worry, he wrapped his arms around himself and waited. Everything suddenly felt wrong, as if he had stepped out of his own world and into a nightmare.
He did not have to wait long. After a short while, Kevin came in, brandishing Struan’s nightshirt, which was smeared with blood. Kevin’s look was one of disgust and triumph. “Well, Brother? What do you say now? There are more marks on the sheets. Do you still say you are innocent?”
“Yes! But I also say that you are guilty!” Struan roared. “I say thatyoudid this terrible crime so that you can put the blame on me! Why, Brother?”
“You are not my brother!” Kevin spat. “You are the bastard son of a maid. We share a father, but that does not make us brothers.”
Struan stared at him, mouth agape. This was Kevin, his best friend in the whole world. He must be having a nightmare, surely? “Kevin, what is wrong?” he asked in disbelief. “Have I done something to offend you?”
“Yes. You are breathing. That offends me,” Kevin said viciously. “You were always our father’s favorite. He loved you more than Dougall and me, and now you have murdered him! Was it my turn next?” He faced his brother nose to nose, his gaze thunderous. “Then you could lay your grubby hands on my father’s estate and all the wealth he worked so hard for!”
“I will not dignify that with an answer,” Struan growled. He looked around and began to kick and struggle as a guard took each one of his arms and began to drag him away.
“Have you ever seen the dungeons?” Kevin asked smugly. “No? Do not worry. You will soon come to know them well.”
2
And he did. Struan stayed in the dungeons for two months, bored, embittered, and lonely, but he was astonished one day when, out of the blue, Kevin came to see him.
“Have you come to set me free?” he asked bitterly. “Or have you just come to gloat?”
Kevin smiled, his blue eyes glinting with spite. “It had crossed my mind to set you free, but I fear you are too much of a danger to everyone you come into contact with, so for the sake of the community, no. I have come to tell you your fate.” He took a deep breath and smiled again, his eyes glinting with malice. “You have been tried in absentia—because you were too ill to come to court, of course—and found guilty.”
“And what was this mysterious illness I was suffering from?” Struan asked, his voice loaded with sarcasm.
“You had a temporary spell of madness,” Kevin informed him, “and you would have been hanged, but my wife pleaded for your life. She said that you could not be held responsible for what you did when you were insane.”
“Your wife?” Struan asked, then he laughed scornfully. “Which woman in her right mind would marry you?”
“May,” Kevin replied at once. “Your betrothed, or should I sayformerbetrothed. I married her out of charity. She was so bitter when she realized that there was no hope of you ever leading a normal life that I felt sorry for her. I offered to wed her, and she accepted.”
Struan stared at him for a few moments in disbelief, then he said: “We both know who the real murderer is here,Brother!But no one will ever be able to prove it, I suppose. You are married to May now, and there is nothing I can do about it. But treat her well, please. She does not deserve a miserable life.”
“And if I don’t?” Kevin laughed. “What are you going to do about it? Kill me too? Do not fret, Struan; she is quite safe with me, and she likely had a lucky escape. Who knows what fate would have befallen her in your hands?”
Struan looked into Kevin’s eyes with his own, which were almost black with anger. His voice was throbbing with menace as he said: “Keep looking behind you, Kevin, because there is a target on your back…and one day, I am going to fire an arrow right into the bullseye.”
“Callum!” the tall red-haired woman called. “What are ye daein’, ye eejit? I havenae got a’ day tae wait for ye!”
“Sorry, Captain!” the first mate called as he ran to catch up with her. He was half a head smaller than she and had to look up to her in every way, for Gavina McCartney inspired respect in all her crewmen. “Wee Alec just tripped over a bucket o’ water, an’ it spilled a’ over the place. I slid on it an’ bumped my heid.” He was rubbing the sore spot and grimacing painfully.
“Hmmm…” Gavina rapped his head with her knuckles, smiling. “Knocked some sense intae ye, has it?”
Callum grinned. “Too late for that, Captain,” he said ruefully. “I am too auld an’ too daft.”
“Anybody that makes their livin’ on a ship is daft, Callum,” she said, sighing.
“How did a woman come tae be captain o’ a ship?” he asked curiously. “I know the old captain left it tae ye when he got too old tae sail, but I thought ye would have sold it an’ bought yerself a house or met a nice lad an’ married him.”
She shrugged. “Captain Hunter was a father tae me, Callum, an’ a much better father than my own was. He taught me tae read an’ write, how tae dae the accounts an’ suchlike, as well as how tae handle the sails an’ steer the ship. He even taught me how tae defend myself.” She laughed, then her face grew sad.
“I was the daughter he never had, ye see, an’ I grew tae love him like a daughter, even though he made me work very, very hard. He taught me tae love the sea, an’ I could never imagine wantin’ tae live on land. As for marryin’? A man hasnae been born that would marry me—I am far too wild!” She looked down at her breeches, which she had taken to wearing almost as soon as she joined the crew since dresses were extremely impractical on a ship.
They laughed and moved down the corridor to check on the men they were carrying. “Can ye imagine me in a bonny wee frock walkin’ intae church wi’ a husband an’ a couple o’ bairns? No, this is my life. I own a nice solid ship that earns me good money an’ gives me no surprises because I go tae America every trip. I have a good crew, an’ we a’ get on well.”
“Would ye no’ prefer carryin’ a different cargo, though?” Callum asked doubtfully.
“Well…” Gavina considered it for a moment. “There is no shame in carryin’ prisoners, Callum. If they hadnae broken the law, they wouldnae be here. We are earnin’ an honest livin’ an’ these convicts can still look forward tae a good life after they serve their sentences. They can even come back tae Scotland if they want tae. ’Tis much better than hangin’.”
