“Are you certain I can’t help?”
Elsie, eyes still closed, could only manage a faint moan.
Selene slid quietly outside to join Kenneth at the railing. He tucked an arm around her, bringing her close. “Are ye all right lass? Nae seasickness fer ye?”
Selene nodded, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I am well enough.” She turned her gaze to the surging waves, clinging tightly to the rail with her free hand. “Thank you for your kindness to my sister.”
Keeping Selene in his embrace, Kenneth breathed in the scent of flowers in her hair.
“I am happy tae care fer yer sister. She is yer kin and is dear tae me also.” He gave a low chuckle, recalling Elsie’s determination to journey with them. “And she is more match for the Savage Laird than I’d ever imagined.”
Serene nestled close, her warmth joining with his against the biting chill of the wind. “Why do you call him the Savage Laird?”
He chuckled again. “He earned the name, just as I am kenned as the Brute of Sleat.”
Selene pressed closer. “And that, my darling Kenneth, is a mis-naming if ever there was.”
“There would be many who would argue that it is so.”
He leaned down to plant soft kisses in her hair and brush wind-tossed curls behind her ear.
“All that matters tae me is that ye dinnae think of me that way.”
She looked up and met his gaze, her cheeks and nose rosy from the cold, her eyes sparkling. He found it impossible to resist placing a soft kiss on her forehead.
But she reached up boldly and pressed his head down, closing her eyes, her soft ruby lips parting invitingly. She was altogether irresistible.
Leaning against the rail to steady them, he wound his arms around her, and took her lips with his. His kiss was flooded with the exhilaration and elation of the homecoming that was soon to be theirs. And the wedding that was to follow.
His heart thrilled as she returned his kiss with a fervor that matched his own, her lips lush and seeking beneath his, her body soft against him. She tasted of salt and smelled of sweet flowers as he lost himself in her, oblivious to the wind-tossed sea and the deck that tipped and swayed beneath their feet.
Slowly they drew themselves apart, catching their breath, breathing their fill of the salt air, Selene resting her head on his chest, his arm spread protectively across her shoulders.
Once they were across the wild, open stretch of the sound, the water quietened and the ship steadied, and they continued their northerly course.
Elsie appeared at the entrance to the cabin, color returning to her wan cheeks. “I am well again,” she said, as Selene stepped forward.
At the helm Kenneth kept them close to the shoreline of Skye as they headed north at an uninterrupted pace. The land rose sharp and wild from the sea, its edges gnawed and shaped by centuries of weather. Great slabs of dark rock thrust upward, while narrow inlets like the one where they’d found shelter on the voyage out, cut into the coast like deep scars. Here and there, small villages clung to what shelter they could find – a scattering of low stone cottages, smoke curling from chimneys, fishing boats drawn up onto shingle beaches.
Selene watched the land that from now on would be her home.
The birlinn labored under its burden. With cattle penned in the prow and extra men on board, she rode low in the water, her belly sluggish in the swell. Each larger wave caused her timbers to complain loudly at the load she carried.
As Kenneth steered them into the familiar cove below Duntulm, Selene appeared beside him, nestling close as he folded her into his embrace. The castle rose above them, dark stone etched against a winter sky, banners snapping briskly in the cold wind.
“We’re home,” she said simply, her words lightly touching his soul. Moments later, Elsie was with them, smiling as she gazed up at the magnificent spectacle of Castle Duntulm.
He had barely nudged the birlinn into the shallows before the trouble began.
The cattle, scenting land and freedom, shifted restlessly, pushing toward the side of the ship, their lowing turning deeper and more desperate. The deck lurched under the sudden movement, timbers groaning in protest as hooves stamped and the ropes holding them strained.
“Easy!” Kenneth barked, already moving. “Easy, damn ye!”
One of the younger beasts reared, eyes rolling white, and for a breath it seemed she might break the rope holding her. Water slopped over the gunwale as the birlinn wallowed, sending a cold wash across the deck.
A lad watching from the shore took one look and bolted uphill, legs pumping as he sprinted for the village.
“Get Donnachaidh!” Kenneth shouted after him. “Tell him we’ve need of him now.”
