Rogue of the High Seas (3 page)

“You ladies might as well enjoy the view while you can,” Robert said as the
Sea Lassie
cast off and one of the foresails was raised to help maneuver down the Thames.

“From the water, London looks entirely different.” Shauna kept a hand on the rail as Shane had instructed her to do whenever she was on deck although the river was smooth. She didn't want a reprimand from Captain Henderson, who she thought would be equally adamant about safety. “Do ye really think it will storm?”

“Probably. The prevailing wind has calmed. That usually indicates a shift. This time of year, anything blowing in from the North Sea will mean rough water.”

Shauna frowned. “Then why didn't Shane wait?”

“Because it's January,” Robert replied. “From what Shane told me, these storms follow each other pretty regularly. There's not a real good window to sail.”

“Besides, Shane needs to get back. Albert has had to take care of everything while we have been gone,” Abigail said. “Now that the sun is up, it feels warm.”

“For now.” Robert pointed toward the northeast as the ship steered around a bend in the Isle of Dogs. “Those light-colored clouds will be dark before long. Hopefully, we will be in the Channel when the winds pick up.”

“I have never really understood why open water is better,” Abigail admitted, “but Shane always says it is.”

“Open water allows the ship to maneuver,” Robert answered, “although out in the Atlantic, that doesn't always help. Not when the waves are thirty or forty feet high.”

Abigail's eyes rounded. “I had not thought about that. Shane generally sails to Ireland or the continent.”

“Is that the kind of weather ye will be facing when ye return to America?” Shauna asked.

“Perhaps. I have a broken rudder to fix before the
New Orleans
is going anywhere though.”

He wouldn't be leaving right away? Shauna tried to keep the excitement out of her voice. “How long will that take?”

“It depends on the extent of the damage once I get her hauled to dry dock,” Robert replied, “but I am thinking of staying over until the spring when the shipping routes are a bit smoother.”

“Oh!” The word came out a surprised squeak. Not even in her wildest imaginings had she anticipated
months.

Robert gave her a quizzical look. “Was that approval or disapproval?”

“Aye, I mean, nae. Ah…” She was still squeaking. Shauna cleared her throat. “I mean, approval.” Her voice sounded more normal. “I would nae want ye to put yourself in danger.”

A corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “Thank you. I offered to help Shane run his ships while mine is out of commission. He took me up on it.”

Shauna's breath caught. Captain Henderson was going to be helping Shane? That meant she'd probably see him at the dock's office… She started to smile. So that was why Jamie had been so adamant she not come to Scotland right now. Shane must have told him about Captain Henderson's plans. Her smile grew. And Jamie wasn't here to hover over her.

The happy feeling stayed with her until mid-afternoon when the winds picked up, the sea built to a chop, and Shane ordered her and Abigail below decks. While the women might very well argue with Shane on land, the captain's word was law at sea.

Unfortunately, the pitching and rolling of the ship was more pronounced when confined to a cabin, and it didn't take long for Abigail to be reminded of her condition. She was soon in bed, clutching a tin basin while her stomach heaved. When Shauna went up on deck to inform Shane, his first impulse was to turn the boat around and head back to London, but Abigail would have none of it. She said she wanted to go home to Edinburgh. Shane wanted to turn over command of the helm to Robert so he could sit with his wife, but she would hear none of that either. She didn't want him watching her casting up her accounts.

The storm continued to rage, like a sulky child building to a mighty tantrum. By evening, knowing the cook would not even attempt a hot meal, Shauna left the captain's quarters in the stern to make her way to the galley located by the forecastle in the bow. A number of looped leather handholds suspended from the underbelly of the deck kept her from being tossed against the tied-down crates as she passed through the cargo hold, but the ship's yaw caused her to weave back and forth like someone who'd imbibed in too much
uisge beatha
. Which she wished she had right now. Never had seventy feet of boat seemed so long.

The galley was unattended when she finally made her way to it, but all hands were probably needed on deck. Shauna took a tin of hard salt biscuits and broke off a hunk of cheese, not wanting to attempt using a knife in such rough sea conditions. She contemplated trying to take some food on deck for the men but knew Shane would be furious if she even popped her head above the hatch.

Since she had only one hand available for the straps on her return, by the time she reached the stern cabin, she'd bounced against too many hard objects to count—already the bruises were beginning to hurt. She practically fell through the stateroom door as the ship lurched sideways, catching a rogue wave.

Abigail lay clutching the rails of the bunk, her face eerily green.

“Try to sit up and nibble on a salt biscuit,” Shauna said as she opened the tin and set the food on the fiddled table attached to the wall. “It will help settle your stomach.”

Instead, Abigail rolled to lean over the rail, grabbed the basin and began retching again. “The cheese,” she managed to say when her stomach delivered no contents. “The smell…”

Shauna grabbed a drying cloth off the dresser that had a built-in basin, wrapped the offending cheese in it and then stashed the lump inside a drawer. “I am sorry. I should have thought about that.”

“It is not your fault,” Abigail said and then moaned as the boat pitched and dropped into a trough.

“Try and get some sleep,” Shauna urged. “Things will be better tomorrow.”

But they weren't. By morning, the wind had turned into a howling fury and Shauna could hear it screeching through the rigging even in the stern cabin. Shane made an appearance as Shauna was attempting to get Abigail to try a biscuit. He looked as tired and worn as Shauna had ever seen him. His face became more drawn as he saw Abigail and rushed to her to cradle her in his arms.

“Has she been sick this whole time?” he asked.

“Aye.”

“Good God. I kenned I should nae have taken the two of ye—”

“I want to go home,” Abigail said weakly.

“Ye could have taken a carriage. I should nae have allowed—”

“Hush, husband.”

To Shauna's surprise, he did, but a helpless look crossed his face. “How bad is the storm?” she asked to take his mind off Abigail.

“The barometer dropped faster than I thought. 'Tis a confused sea. We hauled down most of the sails.” He gave his wife an apologetic look. “'Tis why the boat is pitching and rolling so.”

Abigail moaned and buried her face in his shoulder. Shane tightened his hold, a muscle twitching in his jaw and he muttered something under his breath.

“When do ye think the storm will let up?” Shauna asked.

“'Tis hard to say. With the glass falling so fast, Robert thinks we may be having two or three following each other.”

“Does Robert have the helm?”

“Aye, for now.”

Abigail raised her head. “Then you should get some sleep.”

“I cannae,” Shane said, gently sliding her from him as he stood. “All hands are needed on deck.”

“But you need sleep.”

“I will sleep on deck. Robert and I will switch the watches.” Shane went to the door. “Try to rest if ye can.”

“'Tis what I told her,” Shauna said and went over to the dresser to remove the cheese. “Here. Take this and the biscuits. The two of ye will need to eat.”

Shane nodded. “I'll be sending the men down one at a time to eat. There's a few who still doona like women aboard, so keep the cabin door locked.”

“Aye, I will,” Shauna replied. As if they needed more trouble. She didn't think any of Shane's crew would be bold enough to defy him, but bad storms were seen as omens, and women aboard were considered bad luck.

Toward the end of the second day, the winds lessened, but only slightly. Through the closed door, Shauna could hear the sailors muttering about being cursed. Robert and Shane took to sleeping on the floor in front of the cabin when either was off-watch just in case anyone took a notion to mutiny.

Shauna did the best she could the next few days getting Abigail comfortable and insisting she take broth. Gradually, Abigail was able to keep the biscuits down, but by the time they finally reached port in Edinburgh, Shauna didn't think she'd ever been so glad to see
terra firma
.

Shane carried Abigail off the ship even though she insisted just feeling the fresh air on her face made her feel better. Robert was waiting at the gangplank when Shauna emerged from below.

“It has been a pretty miserable trip for you, hasn't it?” he asked as he escorted her to the waiting carriage.

“All I can say is 'tis glad I am it is over.”

“I would wager you are,” Robert said.

“Thank ye for guarding our door. 'Twas appreciated.” She wasn't about to admit how sorely tempted she had been to open that door and invite him inside the cabin. They would have had Abigail as chaperone, after all.

“It was our duty to protect the two of you.”

Duty wasn't exactly the word Shauna wanted to hear, but what did she expect him to say? That he wanted or desired her? She'd always been clearheaded about men. She should never have listened to Abigail and read that book
Pride and Prejudice
. Captain Henderson was not Mr. Darcy, although Shauna did recall that Miss Bennet had some trouble in getting the man interested as well. She shook her head to clear it. Enough silliness. “I want a nice hot cup of steeped tea. Albert's wife, Janet, makes the best.”

Robert grinned. “You might want to put a drop of brandy in it after your ordeal.”

Shauna smiled up at him. “'Tis whisky we use here.”

His grin widened. “Even better. Perhaps I can join you later. Shane has invited me to dinner.”

“That would be wonderful.” To her relief, she didn't squeak this time. “Ye will find Janet is a grand cook as well.”

“I will look forward to it,” Robert said as he opened the door to the carriage and helped her with the step. “Until later then.”

The glow of anticipation stayed with Shauna throughout the short ride to Moray Place. Abigail looked at her questioningly, but Shauna wanted to relish the thought of having dinner with Robert later. Luckily, Abigail didn't press her.

“Welcome home!” Janet hurried out of the kitchen as Shauna opened the front door. She stopped when she saw Shane carrying Abigail toward the parlor. “Oh, my goodness! Is she ill?”

“We were hit with a storm the entire trip,” Shauna said she followed them. “Abigail's condition dinnae tolerate it well.”

“Her condition?” The housekeeper's eyes widened. “Oh! A babe is on the way? What wonderful news,” she said when Shauna nodded. “The house has been so quiet since Caitlin and Caylin went back to Glenfinnan.”

Shauna didn't think she'd ever hear Janet say she missed Shane's thirteen-year-old twin sisters, since they were a handful. “Well, it will only be quiet for a few more months.”

“Oh, my. There is so much to do,” Janet said. “Clothes to be sewed, a nursery to prepare—”

“We have some time.” Abigail smiled at Janet. “Right now, I think Shauna and I could really use some tea.”

“Aye, I already have water hot.” Janet bustled out while Shane fussed over arranging pillows for Abigail.

“Will you stop?” Abigail asked. “Really, I am fine now that the world is not moving around me. You need to get back to your ship.”

“Are ye sure ye will be all right?”

“Quite. A spot of tea will be just the thing. Now go.”

Shane looked reluctant to leave until Shauna reminded him his crew would want to get paid. “I will be back as soon as I can,” he said and turned so swiftly he almost ran into Janet bringing the tea.

Shauna and Abigail both laughed once he was gone. “If this is the way my cousin is going to wait on ye—”

“I just might let him,” Abigail said with a giggle.

“And I doona blame ye, lass,” Janet said as she poured their tea. “Let your husband spoil ye a wee bit.”

Abigail took a sip of tea and inhaled deeply. “This is delicious, Janet.”

“Thank ye.” The housekeeper beamed and then slipped a hand into her apron pocket and pulled out a letter, which she handed to Shauna. “This came from your brother a few days ago.”

Jamie? Shauna took the envelope and saw Ian's bold writing on it. Since Jillian was about to give birth to their second child, he hadn't made the trip to London for Fiona's wedding, but why would Ian be writing Shauna?

She opened it and read the short message and then felt the blood drain from her face. The letter fell from her hands.

“What is it?” Abigail asked in alarm, setting her cup down.

“Is something wrong with your brother's wife?” Janet asked.

Shauna shook her head. “No…” She tried to gain composure of her voice, which squeaked again, only this time not with excitement. “Ian says Owen MacLean, our neighbor, has asked for my hand in marriage. He is coming to Edinburgh to court me.”

She looked around, wondering where Shane might keep his whisky.

Chapter Three

“You have never mentioned Owen MacLean,” Abigail said. “I did not know you had a suitor—”

“I doona. I have nae idea what this is about.” Shauna remembered that Abigail kept a bottle of sherry in the cabinet by the parlor's window. She'd said it was an English tradition since men would retire to the library for cigars and brandy after dinner. Shauna got up and retrieved the bottle. It wasn't whisky—certainly not the
uisge beatha
her brothers favored—but it would do. She drained her tea and poured a healthy dram into the delicate china cup and then added another one, causing the sherry to spill over into the saucer. Abigail lifted an eyebrow, but Janet grinned.

“I've a feelin' ye are nae pleased.”

Shauna took a healthy swallow before she answered. “I doona ken what to say.”

Abigail picked up her tea. “Why not start by telling us who this man is?”

“He is a neighbor.”

“You have already said that,” Abigail said patiently. “Could you give us a bit more detail?”

“Aye.” Shauna took another swallow and set the cup down. “Owen is the nephew of Hector MacLean, the clan chieftain.”

Abigail wrinkled her brow. “I thought clans were banned after Culloden.”

Shauna shrugged. “Banned by an
English
king. 'Tis true the kilt couldnae be worn or the pipes blown for a while, but it dinnae stop the clans from choosing their lairds. Even now that the English are more lenient, Scots prefer to settle accounts amongst themselves.”

“But surely a chieftain cannot order you to marry someone.” Abigail paused. “Can he?”

“I doona think so.”

“Well, then you have nothing to be concerned about. You will simply decline the man's suit in a ladylike manner.”

“'Tis nae so simple.”

Abigail lifted both brows. “Why ever not?”

“Owen is also the firstborn son of John MacLean, whose lands border Ian's. The MacLeod holdings near Glenfinnan are isolated from the MacLeods of the Isles. Keeping an alliance with the MacLean is important.”

“But Ian would not want you to marry someone you do not love,” Abigail said.

“Owen and I were playmates as children.”

“Did you like him?”

“I think I spent more time angry with him than anything else.” Shauna remembered the young boy who could goad her into losing her temper, which was something she prided herself on not doing, even as a child. “He teased me horribly.”

Abigail gave her a smile. “Children do grow out of those habits. What was he like as an adult?”

“I doona ken. Owen was sent to school in England at fifteen. I have nae seen him in seven years, although I ken he fought with the English against Napoleon.”

“But he is returning to Scotland?”

“Ian dinnae say, but it stands to reason. His father has nae been well the past two years. He probably wants Owen home to take over since the land will pass on to him.” Shauna hesitated. “Ian must think Owen a good match.”

“Aye, he could verra well be,” Janet spoke up for the first time. “My Albert and I were childhood friends. Perhaps ye should give the mon a chance.”

“That is true,” Abigail said. “You might find you like him.”

Shauna stared at her friend. Did Abigail not realize that the man she wanted was Captain Henderson? She turned her gaze away. The thought was more than foolish. Even if the captain were staying in Edinburgh for now, he would be sailing back to America in the spring. She didn't know what kind of a future she could have with him, not that he had even hinted at such a thing. But Shauna didn't want to be married off to someone who was only a
good match
either. She would rather be a spinster.

“We shall see,” she said to end the conversation and then stood. “I think I will go take a bath.”

“Aye. I'll get hot water for ye,” Janet said as she rose.

“Thank ye. I will help.”

“Do not fret, Shauna,” Abigail said. “Everything will work out.”

Shauna paused and then nodded. As she followed the housekeeper out, she left the letter from Ian on the floor.

Robert arrived promptly at seven o'clock that evening. Jenkins, the English butler Abigail had hired, approached the door the same time Shane did and then stiffened in disapproval when Shane opened the door himself. Shauna suppressed a laugh. Abigail may have convinced her husband that a butler was needed—more likely, he'd agreed just to please her—but that didn't mean Shane was going to succumb to the formalities of an English household.

Shauna stepped back into the parlor lest she look too eager to greet Captain Henderson and bumped into Abigail's maid, Kyla. “Oh, I am sorry—”

“Lord have mercy!” Kyla exclaimed.

Shauna thought maybe she had hurt the girl, but then she saw where Kyla's eyes were riveted.

“That is one fine specimen of a man,” the maid said, putting one hand to her throat while fanning herself with the other. She stepped forward, blatantly ogling Robert, whose back was turned to them at the moment. “Indeed he is. Such nice shoulders and a fine arse as well.”

Shauna yanked her back into the room. Kyla was a flighty thing. Last fall, the three footmen had nearly come to blows because the maid had flirted with all of them. Words tended to fly out of her mouth before her brain was fully engaged. “
Shhh
. Ye ken better than to talk like that.”

Kyla blinked at her, unfazed. “Well, the man does have a fine—”

“Hush!” Even as she said it, Shauna found herself stealing a glance at Robert's backside. He had dressed casually with no cravat and only a black brocaded waistcoat over his white linen shirt. With no long frockcoat, she was rewarded with an ample view of snug doeskin breeches outlining muscular thighs and…his backside. The maid was right. Captain Henderson had a very nice arse.

“Do ye think he's married?” Kyla asked, peering over Shauna's shoulder.

Married. Shauna had not thought to ask. Shane hadn't mentioned it, but then Shane hadn't told her Captain Henderson was planning to spend several months in Edinburgh either. She knew it was childish to harbour fantasies about the captain, but it would be horribly wrong to do so if he were married.

Sometimes her cousin could be as maddening as either of her brothers. They all thought they knew what was best for her and Fiona—and even their older sister, Bridget, who always stood up to them—but they would withhold whatever information they didn't think suitable for their sisters.

Shauna frowned. Had Shane known about Owen MacLean's intentions? Was that why he hadn't objected to her returning to Scotland? To make it easier for Owen? She would find out, one way or another.

Dinner was a simple affair, given that Janet hadn't had much warning about their return, but Robert didn't seem to mind the lamb stew and freshly baked bread. To the contrary, he told Janet the flavors rivaled anything he'd eaten in New Orleans, including spicy Jambalaya and gumbo. Janet had protested she didn't believe a word of it, but Shauna saw the satisfied smile she wore when she turned away from them. Apparently, he was skilled at captivating any woman, if Kyla and the normally taciturn Janet were any clue. Shauna chided herself for also falling captive to his charm. When his green-eyed gaze met hers across the table, she had trouble finding her mouth with her spoon.

“Captain Henderson, my husband tells me you have offered to work with him,” Abigail said.

“Captain Henderson is how my crew addresses me. Please call me Robert.”

Abigail hesitated. “It really is not proper.”

He acknowledged the remark with a tilt of his head. “The States are much less formal about such things. I assure you I meant no disrespect.”

“It is not that,” Abigail said quickly and then glanced at Shane. “I suppose since we are not in London, it might be all right.”

“Thank you.” Robert smiled at Shauna. “May I call you by your Christian name also?”

A little thrill went through her even as Shane drew his brows together. “Aye,” she said quickly before her cousin could intervene. Thank God Jamie wasn't here. “Scotland is a wee bit more casual too.”

“But we are civilized,” Shane said levelly. “Good manners are expected.”

“Understood,” Robert answered. “I would not presume to address either your wife or cousin in public using their first names.”

The men exchanged a look and Shauna got the idea some kind of communication passed between them, although she didn't know exactly what since both of their faces remained neutral as a faro player's.

Abigail must have noticed as well, since she changed the subject. “Will your crew be staying in Edinburgh?”

Captain Henderson shook his head. “Most of them returned to London when I went so they could catch passage back to the States. They want to return to their families.”

Remembering Kyla's remark, Shauna seized the opportunity to find out if he were married. “What about your family?”

“My family is used to my being gone for long periods,” Robert replied.

“Is your family large?” Shauna asked, ignoring Shane's raised eyebrow.

“Actually, no. I have a younger sister and a younger brother.”

But what about a wife? Shauna wanted to ask the question, even though she knew it was highly inappropriate. However, Shane was studying her and he had a mind that solved puzzles quickly. She didn't need him thinking she was captivated by Robert Henderson. Her cousin would never let her work in his dock office if he thought that. Better to move to safer ground. “When are ye planning to haul your boat out?”

“As soon as I can make arrangements to dry dock it,” Robert replied. “I'll make inquiries tomorrow. I'll also need to purchase a longer rope ladder so I can live aboard while she's out of the water.”

“I think I have one or two that should work for ye,” Shane said.

Abigail glanced at Shauna and then gave her husband an innocent look. “If Captain Henderson—Robert—is going to work for you, it might be easier for him to stay in the small flat above the office rather than be climbing up and down ropes each day.”

Shauna wanted to hug Abigail for making that suggestion, but she kept her face carefully schooled—she'd watched her brothers do that often enough—so Shane would not get suspicious. He gave her a sharp look anyway.

“I don't want to impose,” Robert said.

“It will not be an imposition,” Abigail said. “The flat is not being used.” She turned to her husband. “Captain Henderson would have quicker access to your ships as well if he stayed there. Do you not think it a good idea?”

He gave her a steady look as though trying to read her thoughts, but he finally nodded. “Aye. It makes sense.”

Shauna breathed a sigh of relief, although she tried to hide it. Trust Abigail to appeal to Shane's common sense. He always thought logically. She would have to be careful not to reveal her delight in having Robert live above the office.

Very careful.