Page 16 of The Highlander's Pirate Bride

Once they were in sight of the first scattering of cottages she took his arm, holding tight, as if by her own sheer tenacity, she could keep him from fleeing.

The market was a simple affair. Farmers sat beside their produce: sacks of potatoes, carrots and neeps, trussed up chickens, eggs, bundles of nettles, a wriggling sack of eels, walnuts and blackberries, an occasional tethered pig. Beside them were their wives with their own wares. Black pudding and haggis, baked oatbread, bannocks, oatcakes, pies both sweet and savory, jars of pickles and jams, slabs of butter.

There was a general air of good humor as the local villagers mingled with the farmers, children played hide and seek or knuckle-jacks, while small dogs yapped and ran in circles. Aileen and Maxwell drew many curious glances as they filled the satchel and another sack with supplies. All the while Aileen maintained her strong grip on Maxwell’s arm.

“Lass,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “D’ye have to keep such a hold? I dinnae fancy being taken for a hen-pecked husband whose wee wifey cannae allow him out of her sight.”

She laughed at that and loosened her grip, but did not release him altogether.

He was sorely tempted to wrench his arm out of her grasp. No doubt this would lead to a tussle between them, causing no end of amusement for the watching villagers. He sighed. There was little point in drawing more attention to themselves than was necessary. He resisted the mischievous impulse and stayed docilely at her side.

It crossed his mind that she was enjoying not only this sliver of power, but also taking pleasure in holding him close.

It was only when they left the market and were on their way back to the shore that Aileen released him.

CHAPTER SIX

After stowing away her market purchases Aileen busied herself inspecting the storm damage to the ship and the repairs being carried out by the crew under Sea’s keen-eyed supervision.

One of the sails was all but ruined and would take many hours to repair. The mast was split and was being bound with hemp cloth to which hot tar would be applied.

“Will it hold fer us tae make it tae Dunrobin?” She asked Séamus.

He gave a short laugh. “As long as the Good Lord grants us fair weather. Another storm like we had last night would finish it.”

Aileen nodded. “And then the smashed railing still needing repair.” She remembered the barrel rushing toward her and the way Maxwell had pulled her out of harms’ way. Her heart skipped a beat.

While the damage to the ship was more severe than she’d counted on, a dark cloud hovering in her thoughts carried with it another desperate storm. This time, only she could battle with the turmoil it brought.

Finn’s remarks that she should break free of Sutherland’s power circled incessantly in her head.

Of course, dear, faithful Finn was right. He was a ruthless man who cared little for Aileen and even less for Finn and Sea. If she was no longer of use, he would discard her as if she was a mere piece of flotsam. Before that day came, she should free herself from his clutches.

Bile rose in her throat as she allowed her thoughts to stray. No matter what, she could never abandon her father and as long as Sutherland had him imprisoned, she was trapped. It had hurt so badly when her beloved Gregory had been murdered after disobeying one of Sutherland’s orders that she could not contemplate any disobedience toward the laird. His vengeance would be swift and it would be her father who’d bear the brunt of his rage.

She hated Andrew Sutherland with a fierce, burning hatred. Succumbing to his demands, accepting her role as his mistress had all but robbed her of any will to resist.

Yet now, she could almost consider rebelling.

“So, it seems we’ll be here fer yet another day before she’s fit to sail again,” Aileen concluded, before she made her way back tothe cabin. She found Finn there, sewing up a tear in one of the patches from the sail. She got to her feet when Aileen entered and poured a tankard of ale from the flagon. She passed the drink to Aileen’s grateful hands. No doubt Maxwell had been put to work by Ewen or Séamus.

“It’s been a long day.”

Aileen took a gulp of ale. “Aye. And an even longer night last night. I doubt any of us had more than an hour’s brief rest after we’d anchored.”

“So, tonight we’ll all sleep like the dead. Too tired tae think.” Finn looked over curiously at Aileen. “And from the looks of ye, ye’ve been doing far too much thinking today than is good fer ye.”

“Ye can read me mind, lass.”

“Aye. I ken ye well enough.” Finn’s lips quired in a knowing smile. “I ken ye’ve been spending more time in thought since the MacNeil came on board.”

“Mayhap ye’re right.”

Finn wasn’t done. “D’ye ever question yer orders?” She raised an eyebrow. “Ye ken Sutherland will end the MacNeil’s life once he captures his braither. The two MacNeil’s will die together by Andrew Sutherland’s sword.” She shivered. “I ken ye deal harshly wi’ the men who are aught but barbarians, like thoseslave traders ye sent tae Neptune’s rock. But what of the MacNeil lads? Both are innocent men who’ve done ye nae harm…”

“Ah, Finn.” Aileen shook her head so hard her braid flapped against her cheek. “Only a minute hence ye told me tae switch off me thinking. Now ye’ve faced me with the question that’s been haunting me dreams of late.”

“I’ve urged ye more than once tae consider a way fer us tae leave Sutherland. Mayhap we can bring yer faither wi’ us and run tae another land.”

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