The Hawk: A Highland Guard Novel Read online

  Her gaze returned to the dark horizon before her, watching and waiting for any sign. When the opportunity for escape came, she intended to be ready.

  His conversation with the lass bothered Erik more than he wanted to acknowledge. It wasn’t that she thought him a pirate—he’d been called worse, and undoubtedly there was some truth to the characterization. In fact, her belief probably helped. If she thought him a pirate, she would not connect him with Bruce.

  Nor was it her initial fear of him, which under the circumstances he both understood and thought warranted.

  Nay, what bothered him was her reaction to him—or perhaps he should say her lack of reaction to him. She’d been maddeningly immune to his attempts to put her at ease. He’d done what he’d always done from the first time he’d bounced on his mother’s knee, when his smiles and grins had elicited delighted coos from his adoring mother and five older sisters.

  There were three things Erik knew for certain: how to sail a boat, how to fight, and how to please the lasses. It was something he could count on, like fish in the sea and birds in the sky. As much as he loved women, they loved him. It was just the way it was.

  So he’d given her a smile intended to melt through any resistance, talked to her kindly, and patiently answered her questions. Yet she’d barely seemed to notice his efforts in what should have been—and usually was—effortless.

  He frowned. It wasn’t often that he went to such great lengths to charm a lass, and to have it fail so miserably was vaguely unsettling.

  Perhaps it was some strange affliction peculiar to nursemaids. Learning her occupation didn’t surprise him at all. It went with the brisk, matter-of-fact confidence he’d noticed earlier. And when she’d looked down her nose at him and given him that patronizing smile, it had conjured up distinct memories of Ada—the old battle-axe.

  Something about the lass set him on edge, and he’d be glad when he could be rid of her. A point he’d been trying to make clear to Randolph. “I will take her back when it is safe,” Erik repeated in a low voice. They might be clear of Dunluce, but they weren’t out of danger by any means. De Monthermer’s men could be all over this place. “Which isn’t now,” he added, pointing out what should be obvious.

  Randolph set his jaw mulishly. “It’s not right. Abducting innocent lasses isn’t what I joined my uncle for. This makes us look like the pirate barbarians the English call us.”

  Erik gave him a piercing look. “You’d rather I’d left her to McQuillan and his men?”

  The young knight bristled. “Of course not. I would have insisted—”

  Erik laughed at his naivety. “You could have insisted all you like, but the lass would have had her throat cut the moment we pulled out of the cave. I got her out of there the only way I could.”

  Randolph flushed. “If we can’t take her back, why not drop her ashore somewhere else? Let her find her way home.”

  “Believe me, if I could I would. I’ve no more interest in dragging a lass around with us than you do. But I’m not willing to jeopardize our mission and your uncle’s chance to reclaim what has been stolen from him for the sake of one lass. Are you?”

  “She said she didn’t hear—”

  “I know what she said, but what if she is lying?” Erik let the question hang, then shook his head. “I won’t risk it.”

  “So what do you plan to do with her?”

  Hell if he knew. He was supposed to meet Bruce and the others at Finlaggan, his cousin’s castle on Islay, report on his meeting, and begin to prepare for the attack. But if the lass was truly ignorant of their plan, she wouldn’t be the moment she saw Bruce. On the other hand, if he took her to the king, Erik could get her off his hands all that much sooner, and right now that sounded very appealing.

  He scanned the seascape ahead of him, seeing nothing but mist and darkness. It was quiet. Almost too quiet. The English boats were out there somewhere. “Right now all I’m thinking about is keeping us out of the path of the English patrol. Then, I’ll worry about the lass.”

  “I don’t like it,” Randolph said stubbornly.

  Erik glanced over at his unwelcome passenger, her slender form completely enveloped in the fur brat he’d given her. Her appearance hadn’t improved much on further study. Not plain, but not beautiful either—somewhere in between. Definitely not the type of woman to usually get a rise out of him. That she had, he supposed, was only natural with her half-naked body pressed against his. For such a skinny thing, she’d been surprisingly soft.

  Looking at her, he felt a strange tingling down his spine and prickling of his skin. He frowned, realizing the same thing had happened when he’d held her against him.

  And perhaps that was the reaction that bothered him most of all. He didn’t like it.

  For once, he and Bruce’s young nephew were in agreement. “Neither do I, lad, neither do I.”

  He liked it even less a short while later.

  Erik had just given the order to turn east toward Islay, having decided to blindfold the lass and leave her aboard the birlinn until he could report to Bruce, when he caught sight of a sail behind them.

  But that didn’t worry him. With their sail lowered, his boat was nearly invisible in the heavy cloak of darkness and mist. If the other boat did happen to catch sight of them, Erik could always raise the sail and outrun them.

  Nay, the single sail behind them didn’t worry him at all. But the three white dots that sprang out of the night ahead of them, running parallel to shore and barreling down hard toward them—that he couldn’t ignore.

  He groaned. This long night was about to get even longer. Did the blasted English never sleep? A damned hornet’s nest, he thought again. Despite the promising beginning, this “wee” trip to Dunluce was turning into a real pain in his backside.

  With three boats ahead of him, one behind him, and the Irish coast to his right, he had no choice but to turn due north—straight into the wind—if he was going to avoid them.

  He eyed the sails just visible ahead. There was still time. As long as they stayed quiet, they would slip away—

  Quiet. Oh, hell. His gaze shot to the lass one second too late. He heard Domnall’s startled oath, followed by a soft splash.

  Erik didn’t think, just reacted, and dove in after her—fully clothed and armed. He didn’t fight against the hard drag downward as the water took hold of his armor, instead waiting a few seconds for it to balance out. He barely noticed the shock of cold water that cut through him like icy spikes, penetrating to the bone. His only thought was to reach her before she could cry out and alert the English to their presence.

  He followed the path where she’d gone in. When he didn’t find her right away, he shot back to the surface. The waves bobbed up and down, but he couldn’t see any sign of her. Where in Hades was she?

  The troublesome lass was quickly making him regret his spurious act of gallantry in saving her skinny neck. He just might have to wring it himself when he caught up with her.

  He looked at his men hanging over the boat, peering into the darkness also trying to find her. “See anything?” he whispered.

  They shook their heads.

  He swore and dove back under. The fool lass was going to drown herself. Why hadn’t she listened to him?

  Because she’s scared.

  Of me.

  The realization bothered him. Having a lass run away from him wasn’t something he was used to.

  He reached around in the watery darkness, hoping to find a leg, arm, or thick clump of hair. Nothing. He came back up, knowing she couldn’t have held her breath this long.

  She hadn’t.

  A surprisingly loud cry pierced the dark night air. “Help!” she shouted in English, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Over here, please help me. I’ve been abducted by pirates.”

  Not a fool at all. He’d underestimated her. Instead of diving forward as most people would have done, she’d dropped under the boat and emerged on the other side, where no one wa