Page 17 of The Highlander's Pirate Bride

Aileen groaned. “If only it could be. But Finn, I’m tired enough. I cannae dwell on this now. Mayhap tomorrow or the next day I’ll be able tae think on it.”

Finn took a deep breath. “Och, Captain. I ken ye’re worked tae the bone. I’ll leave ye and seek out Sea. Mind now, that ye rest. Our journey is long.”

She stepped through the door leaving Aileen, eyes closed, slumped on her elbows on the table. A vision of Maxwell’s chiseled features swam before her. From the moment she’d first caught a glimpse of him in the tavern at Loch, something had passed between them. It was as if there was some special knowing they shared, something that touched her soul and made her wish to be in his presence.

Her eyes sprang open. This was naught but foolishness. Thoughts that would addle her brain and cause rashness, impulsiveness, mistakes of judgment. This was a time when sheneeded all her wits about her if she was to somehow find a way to release them all from Sutherland’s will.

Rising to her feet she reached for her fur cloak and pulled it tight around her. She strode to the door. A walk on deck with the cold wind swirling about her would clear her head.

Outside, the wind still howled, although the little birlinn rode at anchor in calm waters. They had made it through the turmoil of the storm, and there was relief in the knowledge that they were safe enough now. Yet her heart mirrored the turbulence of the wind.

She paced the deck bidding goodnight to the few crewmen on watch. Mayhap tomorrow the repairs would be complete and they’d be ready to continue the journey.

As she neared the prow, she became aware of a dark figure leaning on the railing, contemplating the night.

It was Maxwell.

He turned to her as she drew near, his deep voice rumbling. “So ye dinnae wish fer sleep, Captain?”

“I may say the same tae ye, MacNeil.”

“Aye,” he murmured. “On nights such as this, when the wind seethes and there’s snow in the air I tend toward contemplation and me own company.”

She grunted and went to pass by him. “Then I should leave ye tae yerself.”

“Nay, lass. Dinnae leave on me account. ‘Tis yer ship, and ye are entitled tae walk wherever ye care tae.” He reached a hand and gently brushed her arm and her heart kicked up a beat at his touch. “If ye wish it, I’d be pleased tae have yer company.”

She leaned into the rail. Her hope had been to distract her thoughts from Maxwell, yet here he was, suddenly taking up every scrap of available physical space as well as making it impossible to eject him from her thoughts.

“I’d be happy tae share yer solitude,” she said, surrendering.

Their eyes gazing into the darkness, they stood together in silence for several minutes, the boat rocking gently beneath them, the only sound the lapping of waves and the endlessly shrieking wind. For the briefest of moments, the movement of the ship caused her to move against him.

Perhaps it was her tiredness, bordering as it was on exhaustion, or something else, but there was an ease between them as they stood together that she’d not experienced before. In the darkness it was easy to let her guard down and allow a newfound calm wash over her.

It was some time before Maxwell finally spoke. To her surprise, rather than the brittle remarks she had come to expect from him, there was a quietude about him that was soothing.

“The sea is a creature of moods,” he said, his deep voice softer than she’d heard it. “We think of her as a woman, sometimes flighty and fun, frolicking and amusing, at other times dark and vicious as she was last night.” He paused and she felt his gaze on her. “And like a woman, she may be a giver of life on one hand, but one who robs life on the other.”

His pointed remark tugged at her heartstrings.

Is that how he sees me? Daes he ken I am taking him tae certain death?

She huffed, covering the confusion and despair his words wrought. “I’d nay have taken ye fer a philosopher afore this, MacNeil.”

Now it was his turn to give a soft chuckle. “Lass, ye dinnae ken me at all. There’s way more tae me than fighting battles and drinking in a tavern.” She felt rather than saw him turn his head to the darkness. “I’m a lad who can appreciate a lass who has as much courage as a warrior and is beautiful on top of it.”

“And where, pray, would ye find such a lass?”

Again, he laughed. “I dinnae ken. There are times when I believe I’ve found her, but then she slips through me fingers and I’m left in wonderment. I can only say that I’m nae sure about her.”

Unsettled by his words she made no response. This moment of intimacy only served to increase her agitation and confusion,bringing her no closer to any kind of resolution as to what she should do.

She rubbed her arms. “I’m feeling this cold wind in me bones, MacNeil.” She turned away from the rail. Any further conversation with him risked tearing away her heart’s barrier. It would never do to have softer feelings for MacNeil. If she was to continue to do her duty to Sutherland, she would be undone if she began to see this warrior as a lad with a deep soul. Sheneededhim to be no more than a sturdy plank in the ship, helping to sail them safely back to Dunrobin.

“Aye. There’s sleet coming down. Ye’d best hasten tae the warmth of yer wee lean-to.” He was already stamping his feet with the cold and rubbing his big hands together.

For an instant Aileen toyed with the idea of inviting him to join her. There was still a drop of that fine French claret left in the carafe. But she steeled her mind. She must do her best to avoid his presence for the remainder of the voyage.

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