The Jezebel (Taskill Witches 3)

Not only did Gregor’s news startle and amuse him, but Roderick was astonished to find that his cohort was many, many miles from here in the far north. He had to read the letter again to be sure he’d got it right.

By the second reading the laughter on his lips faded as his attention was caught by the woman’s name. Taskill. Jessie Taskill. He clutched the letter tightly, reading the name over and over.

Maisie had confided her family name to him. It had to be her sister. Hadn’t she mentioned a twin, and talked about returning to the Highlands to find her? It had to be one and the same.

Memories crowded in on him, other odd things that Maisie had said. She’d quizzed him about carrying another woman aboard the Libertas, stating that she felt an odd connection with the name Gregor Ramsay. If that was true, was it her witchcraft that had made her sense the link between him and Gregor, and his new bride? Roderick marveled at the very idea.

Whatever the cause, he knew there was destiny in it. He also knew that Maisie had to find her kin. Regardless of his own needs, his sense of justice and honesty demanded that he supply her with this vital piece of information she had spent her life longing for.

Foreign emotions erupted within Roderick. He needed to find her, to tell her. To see her. How the hell would he ever find her again, though? Futile, fledgling hopes were quickly shattered when he considered that problem.

Thanking the bookkeeper, he took his leave.

“Are we to wait for Ramsay?” Clyde asked when he emerged.

Roderick forced himself to slow his pace when he noticed the old man struggling to keep up with him, having trouble managing his limp on dry land. Clyde was born to be aboard ship. Some men had sworn allegiance to the sea and would never give it up for a woman. Others could be swayed. Gregor had. Could he be swayed, as well? Roderick wondered.

He shook his head. His immediate concern was to find Maisie and tell her about her sister’s whereabouts, not because he must know if she wanted him or not. At least, that’s what he convinced himself of in his frustration.

“Gregor Ramsay will not be rejoining us. He’s decided to wed and stay on dry land.”

Clyde nearly keeled over in shock.

“And you must be off to the ship, for I have business to attend to that will keep me in Dundee for at least a day.”

The old man drew to a halt.

Roderick kept walking, but then stopped. The demand for an explanation was beating against his back as surely as if Clyde had been pounding his fists there. Roderick turned back. “Women, they are nothing but trouble,” he declared.

Clyde pondered a moment, then broke into a wide, toothless grin. “I knew you would see sense and go after the lass. You can’t let a woman like that roam free. She’s born to be with you.”

“You’ve changed your tune.”

“Just because I am wary doesn’t mean I cannot see the truth. That Jezebel is a courageous woman, and a clever one.” He narrowed his eyes. “And if I am not mistaken she has looked after you well.”

“You talk in riddles.” Roderick didn’t want to hear any of it. He felt a duty to alert Maisie to her sister’s whereabouts, but that was all he was going to allow himself to feel.

Clyde chortled. “I see your shoulder does not bother you so much this morning.” He nodded at Roderick’s coat, darkly stained with dried blood.

Roderick was about to respond when he realized Clyde had a point. Gingerly, he rotated his shoulder and found it perfectly mended.

The old man reached over, poked about inside Roderick’s coat and tugged back his shirt. “No blood upon the bandage, she healed you while you rested in the rowboat. You were too busy thinking about the Libertas to even notice.”

His eyes twinkled.

Roderick grasped his clothing and pulled it back, tearing off the makeshift bandage that had been applied to him in the rowboat. There was not a mark upon him. And yes, now that he thought on it his shoulder had not even bothered him while he climbed the nets onto the ship the night before. She’d healed him, just as earlier she’d healed Adam, and from a distance, too. It shocked Roderick to the marrow. He’d seen her magic that night in the hold of the ship, but this made his heartbeat falter. “Witchcraft.”

“Aye, but it is not so frightening when the witch is fighting in your corner.”

Roderick peered at the old man. Clyde might talk in riddles, yet quite frequently he talked sense, too. Could it really be true, that she had taken the gun in order to save him, knowing that she could heal him?

His mood shifted, a weight lifting from him. He couldn’t assume it was true, but he must seek her out with the information he had for her, and get to the truth of it. It was his way.

“Go and fetch her back. It was you she wanted to be with. I caught her looking at you all the while when she was above deck, and you the same, like two young sweethearts.”

Roderick stared at Clyde in dismay. He’d always known the old man was a watchful, canny sort, but hadn’t realized that he himself had been scrutinized alongside Maisie.

“Captain, she went quietly only because I told her your life would be spared if she did.”