“Will do.” Stepping backward as he left, his second grinned with a mischievous smile. “She’s a feisty lass that one. Our coming travels will surely be most interesting with her on board.”
“More than interesting.” Of that he didn’t doubt. Teeth gritted, he walked toward his men and once they’d gathered around him, he cleared his throat. “Ella Matheson will be sailing with us. The lass is of fae blood and still recovering from an illness which took her voice. She wishes to find her brother who sails with Gavin and will remain under my protection until I say otherwise.”
“If her brother sails with Gavin, does that no’ make her our enemy as well?” Ivor, his claymore glinting at his side, cast his narrowed gaze toward the inn as Ella appeared on the front step. “My laird, the compeller may have ended the battle at Dunscaith which we fought, but with her ability she could still so easily send us all to our death.”
“Hamish has seen that she seeks only to find and aid her brother in halting Gavin in his misdeeds. She desires only to seek peace, no’ war.” The need to defend Ella and ensure his men understood her true nature rose strongly within him. “Am I understood?”
“Aye, my laird.” A firm nod from Ivor and the remainder of his men around him. All followed his orders, for if they didn’t they’d instead earn his wrath.
“Take a dip and wash up. We leave immediately, the moment everyone is once again on board.”
His men dispersed and Ella stepped in beside him, a buttery-yellow leather vest now donned overtop of her tan tunic, her black leather breeches still clinging snugly to her shapely legs. Knee-high leather boots encased her calves and with her Matheson tartan tossed over one shoulder and her traveling sack over the other, she appeared a vision, one that made him catch his breath.
“I’ve informed my men that you’re joining us.”
“They may no’ appreciate having a Matheson on board, but I’d never harm them. I’d like to make that clear to them.”
“I already have.” He held out his hand for her bag and she passed it to him. He lobbed it to Ivor who’d bounded on board and the man stowed it under the rear bench seat.
She stepped into the surf and he scooped her up before the incoming waves splashed her. “Put me down.”
“Nay, there’s no need for you to get wet.” With her clasped close to his chest, he walked through the knee-deep water and swung her over the side onto his vessel.
Hands on her hips, she glared at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he boosted himself in. “Cease laughing at me, Duncan.”
“You agreed to following my orders, and you appear ready to complain about them already.”
“I agreed under duress.”
“I dinnae recall any duress, my grumpy one.”
“And cease calling me your grumpy one. That is the second time you’ve done so.”
“When was the first?”
“At William’s tavern when you attempted to dance with me.”
“Aye, well I dinnae quite have the best recollection of that night since you compelled me to forget some of it and then altered the rest.”
“I only compelled you to think of me as naught more than an annoyance. There is naught else you should truly have forgotten.” She jabbed him in the chest. “Cease toying with me.”
“I like toying with you. You make a worthy opponent.” He steered her down the center aisle, settled her on the rear bench seat beside him and shouted to his men as they boarded, “All to oars. I intend on finding Gavin MacDonald this night and ensuring he pays for his attacks against us. We shall seek our retribution.”
A hearty roar sounded from his men and they nabbed their oars, dunked them into the water while he gripped the rudder and guided them out of the bay.
“You are impossible,” Ella whispered. Arms crossed, she glared at him then stared out over the night-shrouded seas. “I truly wish I could have said that loud enough for it to have been more effective.”
“I understand that I frustrate you.” To Hamish, he called out, “Raise the sail”
His man nabbed the ropes and unfurled the sail. The wind slapped into it and sent them cruising through the inky waters of the sound, the moon hazy as it slid behind a thick layer of stormy cloud.
“You more than frustrate me.” Shivering, she tugged her tartan from over her shoulder and wrapped it around her. “’Tis getting colder.”
“I have a fur if you have need of it?”
“T-this is f-fine.” Her teeth chattered, her lips going suddenly blue.
“You should have said you were cold.” He couldn’t stand to see her so chilled. From underneath the bench, he foraged within his supplies and pulled out his fur. With the thick brown pelt in hand, he enveloped her in its warmth and tucked it in nice and tight under her chin. “Is that better?”
“Aye, but I wish I could say nay then see what you’d do next.”
“I’d offer you my body to warm you with.” Grinning, he lifted his fur higher at the back of her neck so it blocked the wind from behind.
“Do you flirt with all the lasses like this?”