Page 65 of Rose
She winced a little thinking of her brothers who, she suddenly realized, were likely scouring the isles for her. “Nay, they do not know I am here, but we are due to set sail for home very soon.”
“We? Oh, aye,” Ian said, narrowing his eyes on Tristan. “The husband. How is it that ye and Rose have come to be married?” Ian asked, his voice raising louder with every word.
Ramsay stepped in then. “Ye need to calm down, Ian.”
Ian whirled on Ramsay with flashing blue eyes.
Ramsay thrust his hands out. “Don’t be getting all hot with me. I’m just trying to help. No good can come from ye losing yer temper again.”
Ian took a deep breath and sat down. He laced his fingers together on the table. “Tell me,” he said, calmly.
“Well—” Tristan started to say, but Ian interrupted him.
“Rose!” Ian snapped. “Tell me, Rose.”
She thrust a finger in Ian’s face. “Don’t snap at him. Your anger is with me, but ‘tis misguided. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I only did what ye told me to do. I made my own destiny.Ichose to set out from Colonsay, andIchose this man,” she said, redirecting her finger to point at Tristan. “Ye could not find a finer man were ye to scour all of Scotland. Aye, he’s a sassenach, but his birth mother was Scottish. He bears no love for Edward, or any noble for that matter, English or Scottish.”
Ian stood up, his hands pressing flat on the table. “What I want to know is how ye came to be married.”
Rose threw her hands up. “I told ye, I set sail on my own.”
“And?” Ian pressed her.
“And I was surprised by a sudden storm. The wind split the mast, rendering me unconscious. When I awoke, I was onboard the Messenger.”
“Stop right there,” Ian said to Rose before turning to Tristan. “Now, ye may speak.”
Tristan’s face was composed as he began. “I am a merchant. Having finished my route through the Isles, my crew set our course for Cardiff, when we happened upon your sister drifting on the remains of a boat. She was feverish, near death, in fact. After three days, her fever broke, and she awoke.”
“Did ye wait a day until ye married her?” Ian barked.
“Ian, he’s telling ye how he saved my life and ye’re yelling at him,” Rose interjected.
“Ye could only have known each other a few days. And now ye’re married.”
Tristan cleared his throat. “In a manner of speaking.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Ian snapped.
Rose put her hand in Tristan’s. “We fell in love, Ian. ‘Tis as simple as that. Now stop being such an arse. Tristan Thatcher is a good man.
Ian stiffened, his eyes wide. “Are ye Commodore Thatcher?”
Tristan nodded. “Now that my father has retired, I am Commodore Thatcher, but I still prefer the title of captain.”
Ian smiled. “Why didn’t ye say so in the first place. I’m acquainted with Captain Bellerose. My brother, Quinn, sailed several voyages with the good captain. He advised me to seek ye out, if ever I wanted my own contract. He speaks very highly of ye and yer family. In fact, I believe ye know our very dear friend, Abbot Matthew.”
“I am indeed acquainted with the good abbot. I had the pleasure of meeting him in Berwick some years ago. Nearly ten now that I think on it. He had several messages for me to deliver in London.” Tristan offered Ian his hand, which he accepted straightaway.
As they shook hands, Tristan continued, “Rose has spoken of your interest in becoming a merchant.”
Ian nodded. “Indeed. We MacVies have long been sailors and fisherman. I am saving for a ship.”
“You will be happy to know that I already promised to replace the ship Rose lost—the one you built for her.”
Ian smiled. “That must please her, no doubt. Rose has always loved the sea. A wee skiff is just the—”
“He’s giving me the Messenger, Ian,” Rose said, interrupting. “’Tis a cog, the best in his fleet.”
