Devils Highlander (Clan MacAlpin 1)

She imagined that hand stroking her hair, cupping the back of her head.

“Yes, that's it. ” She cursed the breathy sound of her voice. “Now simply push the comb down, securing it… “ She tapered off, feeling the gentle touch of his fingers.

It was such a novel thing, his touch. New and unfamiliar, yet she imagined she'd somehow recognize the feel of his hands anywhere.

She realized he'd finished and experienced a peculiar moment of loss.

“And there!” she exclaimed overly brightly. She gave herself one last look in the mirror. “I am a wealthy lady. ” She turned to face him, but Cormac was already halfway across the room. She felt her shoulders slump. Strange, surly, incomprehensible man. So much for her dutiful husband.

Husband. Marjorie's eyes narrowed. The man avoided her gaze and instead bustled about their tiny room as if suddenly plagued by a battery of menial tasks.

A slow smile dawned on her face. Husband indeed.

If Cormac wanted her to play a part, a part is exactly what he would get.

Chapter 16

“Oh, Hughie,” Marjorie cooed, “I couldn't possibly set foot on such a filthy boat. ”

“Hughie?” Cormac muttered. He began to pull away, so she leaned in, gripping his arm more tightly. He scanned the harbor and its bustle of people, and then shot her a wicked look. “'Tis known as a ship, Gormelia, not a boat. ” He hadn't bothered to pitch his voice lower.

She frowned. Cormac would be harder to bait than she'd thought.

Shielding her eyes from the glare, Marjorie took in the massive vessel at the end of the pier. Of the ships newly docked in Justice Port, only two were large enough to accommodate a hold full of slaves: the Oliphant and the Venture.

She'd thought the Venture had sounded the likelier of the two for nefarious dealings, but subtle inquiries and a few strolls nearby had turned up nothing more suspect than a gaggle of missionaries bound for the tropics.

They wandered toward the Oliphant instead, and as they approached, she stared, goggle-eyed. As a resident of Aberdeen, Marjorie had seen ships before, but as a gently bred woman, never had she dreamed of seeing one this close. It was vast, with three masts, a battery of cannons, and a belly easily broad enough to accommodate a cargo full of slaves.

A shiver ran up her spine. Davie.

The Oliphant was grand indeed, and she felt sure Davie was on board. She stared, trying to imagine where he might be and how they might get on board to save him. They were close now, and the thrill of it was exhilarating.

The ship buzzed with activity, an entire world unto itself. Sailors busily loaded supplies, wheeling carts and rolling barrels aboard, preparing for what appeared to be a long voyage. There was so much hustle and bustle, if their initial plan pretending to buy slaves failed, surely there was some way she and Cormac could simply sneak onto the ship and find him.

On deck, sea-weathered men shouted orders, cleaning, scurrying, and most staitling of all, climbing. “Look!” she exclaimed, pointing to the men clambering up amid the sails. “There are men up high. They look so tiny and faraway, like wee birds flying up the ropes. ”

She tightened her grip on his arm. “I'm certain Davie is on board. I can just feel it. How I wish we could just storm aboard this instant and get him. ”

She glanced up at Cormac, and the blank look on his face squelched her excitement.

“They're called lines,” he told her flatly. “Not ropes. Lines. 'Tis the ship's rigging. ”

“Oh. ” They continued to stare, quiet for a moment, and then she sighed, “Rigging. ” Marjorie shook her head as though dumbfounded. “Oh, Lord Brodie, you are so very wise. Indeed, the cleverest of all men. I thank you for enlightening your dimwitted bride. ”

His lip twitched. A smile?

She appreciated the gravity with which Cormac approached their mission, but they were so close now, there was no reason it couldn't be an adventure they shared. Last night's laughter over his Bridget story had been too great a pleasure — she wanted more. Marjorie decided she'd get her ill-tempered Lord Brodie to smile before the day was through.

“But what a name,” she said, turning her attention back to the ship. “Oliphant?”

“Aye, like that comb in your hair. ”

She gave him a quizzical look.

“Ivory, lass. Tusks… ivory. Oliphant, as in… “ His voice petered out, and she felt as much as heard his distraction.

“You mean ele-?”