‘Well, I am not most folk, and so I shall not be bringing up my breakfast,’ she said. ‘Though if you command me to, I suppose, I could try.’
‘Aye, grit your teeth and do it to appease me,’ he snarled.
The rhythmic motion of the ship all too clearly recalled that other sinful rhythm - of Cullen’s muscular hips sliding into her, in and out, circling, teasing. Better she was seasick – it would take her mind off lustful thoughts about wretched Cullen Macaulay.
‘Why must you be so angry?’ she said.
‘How can I not be? You let me have you, and I’d wager you liked it, and then you reject me for no good reason.’
‘Don’t pretend your feelings are hurt. You have none.’
Cullen stared out to sea in surly silence, so Lowri continued. ‘Perhaps I am as changeable as Maeve. Perhaps you cannot trust me. We are just like your cousin and his wife.’
‘At least Maeve wants to share his bed.’
‘Well, I don’t, so best you leave me be.’
‘I can’t.’ He grabbed her arm. ‘We have an arrangement to bring forth a Macaulay heir, remember. One you agreed to.’
She tried to shake him off.
‘I tried to be gentle with you. I tried to be kind. But you are too prideful to ever soften your heart to anyone. All you can do is bite the hand that feeds you, Lowri Strachan, and you are determined to take no joy from this world.’
‘I won’t be your slave, in bed or out of it. I am not like the other weak women you are used to.’
He turned on his heel and walked away, shouting, ‘No. I am beginning to realise that.’
As Cullen had warned, it got colder, and they did sail into dusk, eventually mooring offshore against an island of jagged rocks, barren, except for shrieking flocks of gulls. A strip of grey on the far horizon heralded what could be Ireland.
Lowri refused to go below, and Cullen eventually threw a blanket at her. ‘You may cling to your pride and stay up here and freeze, if you like. It’s not as if you can go anywhere.’
He disappeared into the ship’s bowels after that, and Lowri huddled into her blanket, with the sea wind stinging her face, until a fitful sleep claimed her.
***
A steely dawn brought the ship into land, fighting an offshore wind that forced the ship to veer back and forth to make any headway. From its prow, Lowri could see a village spread out along the shoreline, ribbons of smoke rising from its chimneys. The crew seemed to be in a state of controlled panic, shouting, trimming sails and heaving several little row boats over the side. Cullen came beside her and handed her a hunk of bread.
‘What is that place?’ asked Lowri.
‘Larne. But we are not docking there. Rabham will set us down somewhere quieter.’
‘Why quieter?’ she asked.
‘So as not to be noticed, lass.’
‘Whose notice are you trying to avoid?’
‘You will find out soon enough. Now eat something. You are cold to the bone, and I can hear your stomach growling over the swell.’
Lowri chewed on the bread. It almost broke her teeth.
Cullen gripped the handrail, fingers digging in like claws. ‘I think, maybe, I should not have brought you with me to Ireland,’ he said.
‘Why?’
Cullen stared down at her. But she looked away so as not to see the wind ruffling his hair, the light reflecting off the water, which mirrored the grey of his eyes, and his sensual mouth, which had been all over her body. He sighed and walked away without answering, and Lowri was left to wonder what fresh horrors awaited her on that grey shore.
Chapter Fifteen
