Page 2 of Beguiled By the Highlander
Hugh gave a brief nod, his attention fixed on the roiling sea ahead. “Watch yerself.”
Through the slashing rain and shadows that obscured his vision, William counted the men who were busy keeping the ship seaworthy.
Shit.
There was one missing. He couldn’t tell who, but that was of no consequence. He would not lose any man under his command. With a muttered curse he braced his weight into the howling wind and headed towards the stern.
He couldn’t see anyone. With a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, he grasped the gunwale and peered into the churning sea. Not that he expected to see anyone in this weather. If a man had fallen overboard, there was no hope for him.
A muffled creak behind him sent trepidation spiking through his blood. Although God knew why. The ship groaned like a living thing against the battering of the storm. And yet—
Something heavy smashed against his temple, and the world turned black.
Chapter One
Isle of Eigg
Isolde MacDonald stealthilyeased herself out of the bed, so as not to wake her two younger sisters, who snuggled beneath the covers with barely their noses showing. She wrapped her thick shawl around her shoulders and shivered, even though the fire still glowed in the grate, staving off the worst of the chill in the air.
Grear, their young serving girl, lay wrapped in a great sheepskin at the foot of the bed, but Isolde did not wake her, either. She was well able to ready herself for the day without help, and besides, Grear’s assistance would inevitably awaken her sisters, and her plan to slip out of the castle unhindered would dissolve.
And despite how much she loved her home, the castle of her foremothers, she dearly needed to escape it this morn. There was nothing she loved more than breathing in the sharp tang of sea and earth after a fierce storm, or marveling at the ancient power of the elements that lingered in the crisp air.
She went to the fire and dipped her finger into the pitcher of water that stood by the hearth. It was cold, but at least it wasn’t covered with a crust of ice, and, bracing herself, she hastily washed before pulling on a fresh woolen kirtle and leine.
Her precious dagger, in its worn leather sheath, lay on the table beside the hearth, and she secured it within the folds of hergown, the way she had for the last five years since her beloved grandmother had given it to her on the seventeenth anniversary of her birth.
With a quick glance at the bed, she picked up her boots and left the chamber.
As soon as she closed the door, three small bodies charged across the antechamber towards her.
“Hush, lads,” she whispered, before any of them could start their barking, and they obediently fell back, tails wagging. She dropped her boots to the floor and gave them each a hug, stifling laughter when they enthusiastically tried to lick her face off. “Enough, now.”
She pulled on her boots, found her gloves and hood, and then eyed the three terriers who gazed at her expectantly. They were littermates, and although each dog belonged to one sister, it was unthinkable that she take sweet Sjor with her and leave the other two behind.
The three dogs were at her heels as she opened the antechamber door and made her way to the stairs that led down to the ground floor. The servants were already at their tasks, and she crossed the great hall to the kitchens to find something to break her fast.
Grabbing a satchel, she gathered some oatcakes and warm bannocks before tossing the dogs three slices of choice, fresh meat.
“Come,” she called to the dogs as she picked up a lantern and left the castle. It was still dark, and the heavy clouds allowed no glimpse of the moon or stars. The air was damp, and as she made her way across the courtyard a dark shadow emerged from the stables and tailed her.
She sighed. Even without turning, she knew who he was. “There’s no need to accompany me, Patric. I’ll only venture as far as Sgur beach.”
“No swordplay this morn, then?” His voice was grim, but she heard the hint of amusement in his voice. After her father’s untimely death ten years ago, his faithful warrior and lifelong friend had stepped in as a surrogate father and continued her unconventional lessons, a fact for which she loved him dearly.
But it didn’t mean she wanted him to shadow her every time she stepped foot outside the castle ramparts.
“Not until after the sun rises. I prefer to see my opponent.”
“Where’s the challenge in that?”
She shook her head. Clearly, he had no intention of allowing her to escape his watchful eye. “I’m ready for any challenge, as ye well know, Patric.” She slung him a glance over her shoulder. “Sundown, then. And I will have ye eat yer words, make no mistake.”
His low laugh warmed her as she picked her way down the mighty hill and headed to the beach with Patric following in her wake. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks grew louder with every passing moment and the scent of salt and seaweed drenched the air.
In the distance, lightning flashed, illuminating the heavy clouds and stormy sea. She paused and held her lantern higher as she gazed at the breathtaking sight. The tempest raged, yet here, on her beloved Isle, an illusory cocoon of calm settled across the land.
Either the storm would blow itself out over the sea or it would sweep around and return to the Isle. As though confirming her thoughts, the wind picked up and pinpricks of frost spattered her face in welcoming familiarity.
