Page 7 of Transporting a Ruthless Highlander
“If you don’t mind my saying so,” he said softly, “I am surprised. I thought, the first time I saw you, that you were the captain’s wife.”
“I am nobody’s wife!” She almost spat out the words. “And I never will be. Now, I will not bother ye again, so is there anythin’ else ye need? Are yer wounds still hurtin’?”
“Not as much as they were, thank you,” he answered, then said, “You take care of all your convicts very well. Why?”
“It is no’ out of the goodness o’ my heart,” she replied with a grim smile. “I get a fee for every one o’ ye that I transport fae Scotland tae America, so it is in my best interests tae keep ye a’ healthy. As well as that, it is a matter o’ pride. Many o’ the other ships’ captains think I am weak because I am a woman, an’ I need tae prove them wrong.”
“I see. What can I expect when I get to the other side?” His heart was beating furiously as he stared at her.
“I dinnae know the length o’ yer sentence,” she replied, shrugging, “but if ye are a killer—”
“I am not!” he interjected.
“If ye are a killer, maybe twenty years of hard labor.” She gave him a puzzled frown. “Did they no’ tell ye at yer trial?”
He shook his head. “I was not there. I was tried in absentia, so I did not have a chance to defend myself. They told the court I was mad and could not attend.”
Gavina shook her head in commiseration. “Then I am sorry for ye, but there is nothin’ I can dae tae help.”
Struan sighed. “I know, but you have no idea just how refreshing it is to talk to a woman.” He gave a half-laugh. “We men are brutish creatures. If we are all gathered together in one place, even in the best of circumstances, a war will likely start.”
“That is true!” she agreed, laughing. “Ye are animals, the lot o’ ye!”
They talked for a few more minutes since Gavina felt strangely reluctant to leave the handsome convict, even though she knew she had spent far too much time with him already. Eventually, and very reluctantly, she stood up. “Now, if ye have everythin’ ye need, I will bid ye good day,” she said politely.
“Goodbye,” Struan replied sadly. “I have enjoyed talking to you. Will you come back?”
Gavina gave him a strange look and a shake of the head. “No,” she said simply.
Struan watched her until she was out of sight, admiring the swaying of her hips and the shape of her backside in the closely fitting breeches. It was a long time since his body had reacted to the closeness of a woman, and he had almost forgotten how good it felt.
However, there was something else in his life—orsomeone—who brought out the worst in him. He lay back on his pallet and thought of Kevin, and a wave of rage surged over him. He began to daydream, but not in a good way.
He imagined that he was outside the cell looking in at his enemy, who was cringing inside, terror written all over his face. He, Struan, was holding a long spear, poking it through the bars and forcing Kevin to dodge around the cell to avoid it. Struan felt an evil satisfaction as he watched his brother becoming more and more terrified by the moment.
Eventually, with nowhere else to go, Kevin backed into a corner, his eyes round with fear, then Struan opened the gate. He tossed aside the spear since it was too unwieldy for such a small space and took out the dagger that had killed his father. He had no idea how it had come to be in his hands, but that was of no matter now. Its lethally sharp blade was gleaming silver in the faint light of the cell, but Struan was not feeling inclined to use the weapon just yet. It was much more fun to torture his brother a little first.
“Remember this, Kev?” he asked silkily. “You should. You used it on our father.”
“I did not!” Kevin protested. “It must have been someone else!”
“Then did you have a lackey do it for you?” he asked, holding his brother by the collar and pulling his face so close that their noses were almost touching. “Too much of a coward to do it yourself? If you tell me, I may be inclined to show you a little mercy.”
Kevin was frozen with terror but jumped in fright when Struan touched the tip of the weapon to the side of his face just in front of his ear, and a trickle of blood ran down his cheek and dripped onto his shirt.
“Tell me his name!” Struan demanded, his face ugly with rage.
“There is no one!” Kevin’s voice was trembling with terror.
“Good. Then I must only punish you,” Struan snarled, then plunged the knife into Kevin’s heart.
4
Gavina went through the routine of her day as she always did, but she was distracted. The big aggressive man who was loudly protesting his innocence was constantly on her mind. What was it about him that made her want to believe him? Was it because he was the most handsome man she had ever seen? No. She was not stupid enough to be fooled by the tug of physical attraction, even though it was very real. No, it had to be something else.
Was it his obvious intelligence? That was a genuine reason to be attracted to someone since it was not something like beauty that would disappear with the passage of time. And he was certainly not stupid!
During their talk, she had given away a few nuggets of information about herself since he had seemed so interested in her. She had let down her natural reserve a little when he asked: “How do you cope with so much authority? Do you think it is easier or harder to be a woman in command?”
