Duncan watched from a clump of trees near the road when Balloch, Kenna and two guards passed him. After he had made quick work of the three men that laid in wait for the wagon, he had taken one of the horses and sent the women on with the other. After what they had been through, one woman claimed that traveling unprotected into the night in a heavy wagon pulled by only one horse seemed like a picnic to her, as long as they were putting time and distance between themselves and Carlisle Folly.
He could not fight three men on his current mount, so all he could do was follow and hope for an opportunity. He almost laughed out loud at how many times Balloch looked over his shoulder, afraid of shadows. But that meant he had to allow the bastard a bigger lead. After all, there were not many places the man could be headed.
If the landscape and his horse would have allowed it, he would have ridden ahead to wait at the shoreline. He knew Balloch had a ship, The Temptress, and when the harbor came in sight, so did Balloch’s vessel.
The only shipin the harbor was poised to depart. Its supplies had already been loaded and her crew stood ready. A tall man, whose hair and gray clothing fairly glowed in the moonlight, stood at the end of the gangplank with his arms crossed.
Kenna’s heart sank when she realized Balloch was about to take her out of Duncan’s reach, but the ship had yet to sail, and no one should ever underestimate the knight.
Balloch did not slow his pace as he headed for the water.
“We’re being followed!” he yelled to the gray man. He slid off his saddle and pulled Kenna roughly from hers.
“Cast off!” the gray man shouted to the crew, then turned to wave her and Balloch up the narrow walkway. They did not take the time to pull the plank aboard and did not seem to care when it slid off the dock and plunged into the water.
Kenna watched as the other two men rode back up the road with their swords drawn. She tried to ignore Balloch at her side while she watched for Duncan. She hoped now that he was wise enough to give up and head for home.
The ship moved quickly, thanks to a stiff breeze, and she could see no more. But a loud, unintelligible war cry carried eerily across the water. Beside her, Balloch shivered.
When the large boat was picked up by the tide, Kenna felt the pull beneath her feet. This was her first time on a ship, and she was distracted by the new sensation, like riding in a carriage on a smooth road of glass. After a while, she looked up to find a crew of unscrupulous looking men. Pirates no doubt.
The wind blew clouds away from the moon and a dozen men in rags paused to gape at her. She clutched her cloak tighter.
The tall one appeared at her side and barked, “That will do!” He was amused, not outraged by the lewd comments the men cast over their shoulders as they turned back to their work. “Take her below, Balloch,” he commanded and turned without ever looking her way.
Balloch led her past some men who teasingly reached out to pluck at her cloak. She kept her eyes on his back as he led her like an errant child down a short corridor and into a large chamber at the rear. She was relieved when he did not follow her inside. When the door closed behind her, she exhaled violently and sank onto an uncomfortable chair.
She had no idea the direction they were taking, but it hardly mattered. No one could follow. No one could save her, least of all, Tearloch MacPherson.
MacPherson. MacPherson. How could she have been so gullible?
The only honest clansman at Lochahearn was a child of four! And for ten long days, they had all been laughing behind her back, lying to her face, or glaring at her for wanting their laird dead.
Her memories hadn’t faded! With Tearloch’s own face, it must have been his father who took Sander away, then allowed him to die. And Leith MacPherson was now dead, and Tearloch was The MacPherson.
They’d tried to convince her she was mad.
When she had tried to kill him for the deed, he had denied it. ‘A lad of twelve, he’d said. For all she knew, he might have been there as part of his father’s company, when they left her standing in the yard, wailing, begging.
“On the soul of John Chattan, I swear it,”he’d said, because he couldn’t swear on the soul of his true father. Because ithadbeen him.
Now that she had time to think, she allowed her anger to replace any lingering sadness hiding in her heart. She would lay no blame at Duncan’s feet, however. He’d just saved the lives of five women, and possibly her own. He was absolved in all this. A loyal soldier, that was all.
There were so many things she could not make sense of. Why would they not take her along with her brother, only to come back for her eighteen long years later? She was no one.
The sound of her name seemed to be important to everyone involved, however, even the women in Agatha’s dungeon. Whether she was Kenna or Fia seemed to have made a great difference to Tearloch. And why would Balloch need her aliveand not the others? Had he grown obsessed with her since he’d failed to seduce her four years ago?
His need, though, had at least helped to get Duncan and the others to safety. And even if the cause eluded her, she would use her name as what it was, the only weapon she seemed to have left.
It was at least an hour later, just when she felt safe to sleep, when a man knocked on the door and hollered that she was wanted on deck. She was suddenly wide awake as he led her out of the corridor to face a cold wind. She stood in the midst of the leering crew once more until Balloch shouted from behind her.
“Up here!”
Kenna walked to the short stairs that took her to the rear deck where Balloch stood behind the ship’s wheel. There were two other men there as well—the grey man, now missing his matching tricorn, and another man who steered the ship between glances stolen in her direction. The former held a parchment in his hands. A map, perhaps? Were they lost?
“Captain Mac, this is Lady Kenna. Lady Kenna, Captain Mac.”
“Captain,” Kenna nodded, aware that the man still avoided looking at her. She had heard that some men viewed a woman aboard ship as bad luck, and she suspected he was one.
