Page 4 of Highland Hero (Scottish Knights #2)

M arsi, having accepted Hetty’s assurance that she would get Jamie settled sooner without her help, had left the two of them to sort their things. Since then, she had been enjoying the fresh sea air and a cheerful

conversation with the man at the helm, who was kindly explaining his duties to her.

To talk with such a man, an expert at his job, and have him talk to her with the ease of one conversing with an equal had

been an unusual and fascinating experience. Then she saw Hawk step out of the cabin at the front or what her new friend called

the stem of the boat. At the same time, Jamie emerged from their cabin.

“Ye’d better come, Marsi,” the boy said. “I told ye she’d be sick. Sakes, she got sick once in a wee rowboat on Loch Leven.”

“Good lack,” Marsi exclaimed, hurrying toward him.

Jamie turned and pushed the door open for her. But as she moved to pass him, she heard Hawk say, “One moment, lass.”

Turning back as he stepped down from the central gangway, she was reminded again of his muscular body and height.

Ignoring his frown, she said, “Did you want me, sir? Hetty is… that is, Mistress Henrietta is sick. So unless you need something impor—”

It is important,” he said. “You should not be out here alone like this.”

“I wanted fresh air. That cabin is tiny. And with three of us inside—”

“Never mind your excuses, lass. It is enough that I tell you not to come out alone. I will tell Mistress Henrietta as well,

because—”

“I just told you, Hetty is sick. So it would be better—”

“Do not interrupt me again,” Hawk said.

Indignantly, she opened her mouth to point out that he had just as rudely cut her off but shut her mouth again when she remembered

her role. “I beg pardon, sir. I be that worried about her that I forgot me place. I ken fine that she would say I must mind

my manners, even so. Jamie, do ye get back inside, too, now.”

“Nay, then,” Jamie said. “It smells bad in there. I was nearly sick, too, so Hetty said tae hie m’self outside.”

“You go and look after her,” Hawk told Marsi. “I’ll look after the lad.”

“Is aught amiss here?”

Shifting her gaze past Hawk, Marsi saw the captain at the near end of the gangplank. When he grinned, she grinned back.

Hawk, turning toward him, said, “Mistress Henrietta is sick, Wolf. The lad wants nowt to do with that wee cabin now.”

“I don’t blame him,” the captain said. “If he plays chess, I keep an old set in the forecastle cabin. Or I can show you both

more of the boat whilst the lass looks after Mistress Henrietta. How sick is she?”

Jamie said, “She threw up in that pail that sits in the corner.”

“Then fetch it out here, lass, and we’ll empty and rinse it for you,” the captain said. “You won’t want to keep it in there.

Come to that, if your mistress will not object to my presence, I’ll go in and open the portholes to freshen the air.”

“I wanted tae do that,” Jamie said. “But Hetty said we must wait and ask ye. Nae one did though. Then, after she threw up,

I felt too sick tae do it.”

“Go on in, lass,” the captain said when Marsi hesitated. “Fetch out the pail and ask her if I should open the ports. If she

objects, I’ll tell you how to do it.”

“Aye, sir,” Marsi said. Avoiding Hawk’s grim gaze, she went into the cabin, only to find that Jamie had been right about the

stench. Her stomach roiled in protest, and she had all she could do not to turn and rush back out.

Hetty was leaning against the wall by the washstand, still holding the pail and its odious contents. Her face was ashen.

“Let me take that, Hetty,” Marsi said gently. “You must sit down.”

“I’m having all I can do to stand still so I don’t jar any more loose from inside,” Hetty said weakly. “I fear that if I move,

this dreadful floor may heave up again and I’ll fall.”

“I could help you to the lower bed or to the table, where you can sit down.”

“Nay, I’m too heavy for ye, my la—”

“Hush, Hetty! What if they should hear you?”

“Ye should tell them who ye be,” Hetty said, her voice stronger.

“Aye, perhaps later,” Marsi said. “Captain Wolf and Hawk are just outside, and the captain bade me fetch the pail so someone

can rinse it out. He also offered to open those windows if you do not object to his presence. Doubtless he or Hawk would also

help you to a seat.”

“One dislikes imposing on them, especially as I could be sick all over—”

“Don’t be daft, Hetty,” Marsi said curtly, not wanting to hear where she might be sick. “It will do Hawk good to help you.

Sithee, he has just been scolding me for going out on deck alone. As if any of the men would bother me aboard this ship with

their captain just a step away.”

“Don’t expect sympathy from me,” Hetty said in much her usual way. “Ye should no be on this boat, so dinna be complaining about your lot whilst ye pretend to be someone ye’re not.”

“But, Hetty, if I had stayed, Albany would have got me. And you ken fine that he will force me to marry Lord Redmyre. I don’t

like Redmyre, Hetty. He said he looked forward to reforming my character and controlling my estates.”

“Even so…” But with a click of her tongue, Hetty paused, then said, “If the captain told ye to fetch this pail, ye’d better

do it if ye dinna want to suffer his scolds as well as Hawk’s. But, prithee, hurry back with the pail!”

“Aye, sure,” Marsi said, gingerly removing it from Hetty’s grip. She tried to ignore its contents and hoped Hetty would not

be sick again before she could return. Outside, she looked from Hawk to Captain Wolf, wondering what to do with the pail.

Before she had to ask, the captain summoned an oarsman to take it away.

Relieved, she savored a few refreshing breaths of sea air before she said to Wolf, “Hetty does not mind if you go in, sir.

In troth, if one of you could help her to the bed or to that wee table, where she can sit, she will be more comfortable.”

“You should have helped her before you brought out the pail,” Hawk said.

“She wouldna let me, sir,” she said, remembering to speak as a maid would and fearing that she had forgotten with Wolf. “She

said that did she fall, she’d be gey like tae take me wi’ her. ’Twas Hetty herself did say tae ask ye tae do it.”

“I’ll do it before I open the ports,” Wolf said. “I doubt she will thank me for encouraging her to move about, but she’ll

be fain to have fresh air.”

“Take the pail, sir,” Marsi said. “She do still be queasy.”

He grinned. “Aye, sure, mistress. That floor do be the devil and all tae clean, too. I ken that fine, m’self, for I ha’ cleaned

it many a time.”

His tone, not to mention his sudden use of less than noble accents, startled her, making her fear that her slip, if indeed

she had made one, had given her away.

He said no more but took the pail from the man who had emptied it and went inside. Marsi held her breath, listening for sounds

from within. She realized only then that she should have taken the pail in to Hetty herself. Aware that she ought never to

have suggested that the captain do it, she waited for Hawk to say so.

He stood behind her, and she knew that she could not stand there indefinitely. But neither could she walk away without knowing

if Hawk also suspected something.

Unable to think of a better tactic, she turned and said, “Be ye still vexed wi’ me, sir? I dinna ken the ways o’ this ship,

but I’d liefer no vex ye or the captain.”

He seemed to study her face until she stopped speaking. Then he said, “I am not vexed with you, nor is it my place to scold

or correct you unless your behavior jeopardizes our undertaking. Whether you should have told Wolf to take the pail—”

“I ken fine that I should not,” she said. Then, belatedly recalling his stricture against interruptions, she caught her lower

lip between her teeth.

Again, he kept silent until she looked at him. Then, with a slight smile, he said, “I see that you do remember some of the things I say to you.”

“Aye, sure I do,” she said, smiling back, albeit warily. “D’ye think he’s vexed wi’ me? It seemed as if he did mock the way I talk.”

“Nay, lass, ’tis more likely that he reverted to his own long-ago ways. When I first met him, his accent made him unintelligible

to me at times. I come from the Highlands, where we speak the Gaelic. He had learned Gaelic, too, but he’d learned first to

speak Scots. Even so, if we tried to speak Scots to each other, it was as if we spoke two different languages. Sakes, but

I could understand his Gaelic better.”

“Where did ye meet, if not at your home? Did ye foster wi’ his family?”

“We were schooled together. But we can talk of such things another time. I want you to look after Mistress Henrietta now.

I’ll keep James with me.”

Reminded of Jamie and realizing that he had vanished and was unlikely to have gone back into the cabin, she looked around

for him.

Hawk said, “He’s by the forecastle cabin, watching the oarsmen.”

She saw him then, sitting with his knees hunched up, his arms around them.

“How did you know that? You did not even look!”

Hawk shrugged. “I saw him when he went. You were talking to Wolf.”

“Is that really his name… Captain Wolf?”

“Go back inside now, lass. Tend to your duties.”

“I’ll go, sir,” she said, stifling a sigh. “I do have one more question, though.”

“What?”

“Do you think that Albany will follow us?”

“I do, but that should not concern you. He takes no interest in maidservants.”

Feeling guilty heat fire her cheeks, knowing that Albany would take interest in her as soon as he learned that she was missing,

Marsi thanked him and hurried into the cabin. There, she found the air much fresher but noted that Captain Wolf was eyeing

her in a speculative and anything but flirtatious way.

Turnberry Castle

“What do you mean, James is away at present ?”

Robert, Duke of Albany, wearing his usual black velvet with a collar of gold medallions befitting his royal status, fixed

a stare as cold as the ice in his tone on his older brother and waited for an answer. They were in the royal audience chamber.

Albany was attended there by a muscular-looking, dark-haired gentleman some ten years his junior, richly dressed in wine-red,

silver-laced velvet.

Two minions hovered nearby to attend the King.

His grace, looking frailer than ever, shifted uneasily in his chair. “Now, Robbie,” he said. “Dinna be wroth wi’ me. Ye ken

fine that ye scared Annabella. Sakes, but ye terrified her so on her deathbed that she made me promise I’d no let ye take

charge of our Jamie. I have but kept my word to my lass.”

“Then you need only have said as much to me, your grace. This… this sneaking about, hiding James, is behavior that should

be beneath you.”

“I agree, aye,” the King said with a sigh. “But ye ken, too, that ye can nearly always persuade me to your way of thinking.

Sakes, but when I go against ye, ye cut up all my peace. In the past, ye used your position as Governor of the Realm, pointing

out—and rightly, I’d agree—that if I do not rule for myself, I should no gainsay your doings in my stead. But now, ’tis my

son Davy who governs for me. So ’tis Davy who must decide if I have done right or wrong by our Jamie.”

“Aye, perhaps,” Albany said, suppressing his fury. He knew that to vent it would gain him naught. That his grace had named

Davy, Duke of Rothesay, to govern the realm three years before was a slight that Albany had not forgiven. Nor would he. Although

Davy was heir to the crown, Albany knew himself to be a better ruler. And soon, if all went as planned, he would be Governor

again.

To that end, he had come to Turnberry with a purpose of even greater import than seizing custody of the younger prince. Therefore,

he would not tax the King further for news of James’s whereabouts. He could easily find him on his own. He just needed to

do so before any other powerful noble won control of James.

“I have documents for your signature, your grace,” he said instead, casually.

With visible relief, the King nodded and said, “Aye, sure, Robbie, I warrant they must pertain to Stirling Castle, since ye

do be still our constable there.”

Gesturing to the man who had accompanied him to the chamber, Albany said, “Lindsay of Redmyre has them. You’ve heard me speak

of Redmyre, I think.”

“I have, aye.” Nodding to the duke’s companion, the King said, “You are welcome at Turnberry, sir. Forbye, I suspect that

you have come to pay your respects to the lady Marsaili Drummond Cargill.”

“I have, aye, your grace,” the man said, making his bow.

Albany said bluntly, “Redmyre has come to claim his bride, your grace. One must hope that you have not misplaced her as well.”

Ivor joined James by the forecastle cabin. When the boy looked up at him, making no move to stand, Ivor sat beside him.

“If the captain should approach you, as I just did,” he said, “you must get up, lad. That is what he would expect of any man

on his boat, let alone a lad of seven.”

“Ye’ll have tae remind me of such things,” James said, staring over his knees at the backs of the oarsmen as they rowed. Although

the air was cold, a number of them had removed the baggy shirts that they called their sarks.

Ivor thought for a moment, then said, “I believe that if you consider how you expect lesser folks to behave toward you, you

will ken how to act. People expect a lad your age to make mistakes, but few such lads would get away with behaving as if everyone

else must bow to them. Those who see you behaving so will think that you either are mad or are pretending to be what you are not. Then they will

talk. Your uncle has ways of hearing such talk, so you must take care.”

“Aye, sure, but I dinna like deception.”

“Nor do I,” Ivor replied. “I loathe deception and usually punish deceivers. I punish liars most severely when I catch them

at it, so I am glad to know that you agree with me on that subject.”

“Then why did ye undertake a task that requires such deception?”

“Because his grace, your father, asked me to. This task is not about me or my opinions. It is about the future of Scotland,

James. You may well be Scotland’s future if you manage to survive long enough. Mayhap I should not say such a thing to you at your tender age. I

do not want to frighten you, lad. But—”

“You relieve my mind by saying it, sir,” James said with a direct look. “I may be gey young, but I have eyes and ears, and

I use them. I ken fine that my brother Davy angers many powerful men, including our uncle. And he covets his old position as Governor of the Realm and means to steal it back from Davy. I ken, too, that when his grace dies,

Davy will be King. And if Davy dies without issue before I die, I will be King. So I hope Davy lives for a hundred years or

at least long enough for me to grow up and learn how to be a king.”

Ivor said, “I hope so, too, lad,” and felt a shiver race up his spine.

Shrugging it off, he saw Wolf coming toward them and stood to meet him.

Without urging, James stood, too.

Wolf’s grin flashed as usual when he drew near. He said to James, “Would you like to learn how one steers this ship, laddie?”

“Aye, sure,” James said, his eyes alight with boyish pleasure.

“Then go and tell Coll, my helmsman yonder, that I said he is to show you how he does it. But if he should tell you to come

back here, you come at once and without questioning him or trying to cozen him into letting you stay.”

James nodded, glanced at Ivor, and said, “I’ll do as ye say, sir.”

“Good lad,” Jake said, clapping him on the shoulder.

As James turned away, Ivor said to him, “After Wolf and I have talked, you may come back. I’ll show you how to play chess

then… unless you already know.”

“His grace, my father, has shown me how the pieces should move,” James replied. “But I do not know how to play well, and I

would like to learn.”

“Good enough,” Ivor said, touching his shoulder. “You may go aft now.”

As they watched the boy hurry along the gangway, Jake said, “He already has his sea legs. The lad learns quickly.”

“Aye, so quickly that one suspects sometimes that he is seventy rather than half past seven,” Ivor said.

“He does display the regal manner. But he is not the one that concerns me, Hawk.” When Ivor raised his eyebrows, Jake shrugged.

“I do think we should keep to Hawk and Wolf for now. I trust my men to keep mum about aught that I do but not enough to tell

them who the lad is—or who you are, come to that.”

“Aye, then,” Ivor said. “But if the lad does not concern you, who does?”

“The lass, Marsi. I thought at first that she was from the Borders. But she slides in and out of most un-Borders-like accents.

D’ye ken aught about her?”

“I don’t. Is it important?”

“I doubt it. I just wondered. Likely, she has served members of the royal court long enough to have picked up various manners

of speech—even noble ones—and simply tries out a new one now and now. I did that myself as a lad. But I did wonder, because

she looked taken aback when I spoke to her earlier.”

“She thought you were mocking her manner of speech. I told her that when we met as lads, I could scarcely understand you when

you spoke.”

Jake grinned. “Sakes, that was the only thing that separated Highlanders from the rest of us at St. Andrews,” he said. “Even

that wasn’t certain, since all of us quickly acquired both tongues. I spent my early life in Galloway but learned the Gaelic

from the MacLennans. You spoke both languages well when we met.”

“Aye, sure, because my father and grandfather did,” Ivor said. “Show me where that chessboard is now. I promised to keep James

entertained whilst the lass looks after Mistress Henrietta.”

“I don’t know how long Mistress Henrietta will let the lass hover over her. She was already muttering when I left. The wind

is stronger, though, and the lads have stopped rowing. That should ease what ails her.”

Ivor smiled. “I don’t like hovering nursemaids, either, when I’m sick. But I told the lass to stay in the cabin. I’d liefer

that passersby see no women aboard.”

Marsi was at her wits’ end. She had never so closely looked after anyone else before, let alone a seasick person. And she

had not given a thought to that fact even when Jamie had declared that Hetty would be seasick. She realized now that she had

stupidly assumed that Hetty would insist on looking after herself.

But Hetty could not. She had been sick in the pail three more times, making Marsi wonder how much more could come up. The

captain had rapped on the door once to give her a jug of water and to tell her where she would find a mug.

“Make her drink some every now and now,” he had said.

“Sakes, sir, she will only throw it up again.”

“Aye, perhaps,” he said. “But it will become more painful for her if she has nowt to bring up.”

So Marsi had tried, but Hetty did not want to drink. Nor did she want a pillow or anything else that Marsi suggested for her

comfort.

At least, the breeze coming through one porthole and passing through to the other kept the noxious odors at bay. Also, the

ship had steadied its motion, and Hetty was lying down on the lower bed with a damp cloth on her forehead.

Marsi had done what she could to tidy the cabin and had washed her own face. She felt better after that. But when she took

the cloth from Hetty’s forehead to dampen it again, Hetty said, “I’ll rest now, my lady. Ye’ve done enough.”

“But you need someone with you. You are too weak—”

“Ye’re doing nowt but fretting me,” Hetty murmured.

“Sakes, I’m sorry! But I don’t know what to do. If you would tell me—”

“I did tell ye. Go away and let me be.”

“What if you get sick again?”

“The boat has steadied. I dinna feel the sea so much anymore.”

“But what if—”

“Good lack, my lady! Ye’ve put the pail on the floor by this bed, so I’ll do well enough. By my troth, I’ll do better without

ye.”

“Well, I like that!” Marsi pressed her lips together, instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, Hetty,” she said. “I know you are sick,

and I’ve no right to be losing my temper. But truly… art sure you don’t want—”

“Nay, now, just leave me in peace. If the good Lord be kind, I’ll sleep till we make landfall. Try to keep Jamie from annoying

the men, and dinna flirt with anyone. I’d wager that was what put Hawk at outs with ye afore.”

“I was not flirting.”

“Sakes, dearling, ye flirt as easy as ye breathe when ye speak to any man. Ye be too quick with your smiles. Now, keep to

yourself and let me sleep.”

Marsi nearly reminded her that Hawk had said she was not to go on deck. But she felt confined, and when Hetty slept, it would

be worse. Moreover, she was as sure as she could be that none of the men would take liberties.

Not under their captain’s gimlet eye, they wouldn’t.

Accordingly, having looked to be sure that all was in order, or as orderly as it could be under the circumstances, she went

outside and shut the door.

The sail was up, the oars shipped, and the oarsmen were resting. The door to the forecastle cabin was shut. Neither Hawk nor Jamie sat before it.

“What d’ye need, lass?” Captain Wolf asked, startling her into whirling about. He leaned against the high stern beside his

helmsman.

“Mistress Hetty wants tae sleep, sir, and she said I were a-fidgeting her,” Marsi said. “But Hawk bade me stay inside. I think

he fears that one o’ your men—”

“Nae one will trouble ye.” Then, with a twinkle, he added, “Hawk did say he’d liefer we not reveal that we have women aboard.

Mayhap it would be better if ye join him and the lad in the forecastle cabin. Hawk is teaching him to play chess.”

Tempted to ask if Jamie was teaching Hawk or Hawk teaching Jamie, Marsi restrained herself, recalling his shrewd looks earlier.

She decided she would do better to say as little to Captain Wolf as possible. Accordingly, she nodded submissively and said,

“I’ll go tae them, then, sir.”

“Good lass,” he said, nodding.

Without further comment, Marsi headed for the gangway.