need the chamomile to settle her stomach or help her sleep.
It was midmorning by the time Moira finished. She gestured to Kyle that she had all that she needed, lifting the full basket. He made as if to lift it from her arms, but she shook her head. She stepped close enough to keep her voice low.
“I don’t want it in your way if you must swing your sword. If you carry it on your left arm, and I’m to your left, I’ll trip when you drop it. If I carry it, I can throw it clear of both of us and Tomas.”
“Wise, sweet one,” Kyle said. The pride in his gaze warmed Moira, and she realized she desperately wanted to bring that expression to Kyle’s eyes. They hurried across the meadow and wound their way down to the beach. Kyle lifted Moira back into the boat before he helped Tomas push it back into the surf. The men boarded, and Snake Eye spun it to face the Lady Charity.
Moira strained to listen, certain she heard voices. She looked around, but a heavy fog was gathering over the water. She had no way of knowing how far away the voices were. They might have come from land or either of the ships. She looked up at Kyle, who nodded while putting a finger to his lips. She swallowed, knowing that whoever she and Kyle heard was a foe, not a friend. She glanced at the beach again, but nothing appeared to move. She watched Snake Eye strain as he hurried to row them back to the Lady Charity. When she could no longer hear any voices, the sound of the oars dropping into the water screamed in her ears.
When they reached the ship, a ladder and a rope flew over the rail. Kyle made quick work of tying the basket to the rope. A deckhand pulled the basket up as Moira rushed to scale the ladder. Braedon helped her over the rail, Kyle and the other two men swinging over the rail moments after her.
“Go to our cabin, now,” Kyle ordered. Moira nodded and rushed toward the ladder well. Yells and the sound of steel against steel rang from the Lady Grace. Moira froze and looked in the other ship’s direction, but she could see nothing. The fog was like a white sheet draped over everything in sight. Kyle bellowed, “Go!”
Moira looked back as Kyle yelled to her, but it was too late. A grappling hook landed on the deck to her left, and she heard the scraping sound as someone pulled it back to the rail where it was embedded in the wood bulkhead. Men suddenly poured over the sides. She watched as Kyle sprinted toward her, but two men stepped in his path. His gaze flew to her before they forced him to concentrate on the fight in front of him.
“My lady, can you climb the mast?” Braedon appeared at her side. “They’ll check the cabins and the hold if they can. But they won’t think to look for you up above.”
“Who are they?” Moira asked, but she already knew the answer. Her stomach flipped when Braedon confirmed her fears.
“O’Malleys. You must hurry, my lady. Now.”
Moira dropped the basket and followed Braedon to the center mast. She looked up the pole and reminded herself of all the trees she’d climbed as a child. As she reached for the wooden post, a voice drifted toward her that made her blood run cold.
“There’s the bitch. She’ll be in my bed by tonight,” Dermot O’Malley bellowed. Moira looked over her shoulder to spot a man that made her knees clap together. Pox scars riddled his face, one of his top front teeth was jaggedly broken, and blood dripped from his sword. Moira glanced at the deck beside the ogre and saw that the O’Malley had felled one of Kyle’s crew members. The sound of feet running toward her snapped her out of her stupor. She searched for Kyle and found him battling an enormous mountain of a man, but he glanced at her several times. Close to him, Tomas fought, blood dripping from his thigh. She couldn’t see Snake Eye.
The O’Malleys were too close for Moira to attempt climbing the mainmast. She tugged at the clasp to the cloak and let it fly away from her as she sprinted to the bow. Using her small stature to her advantage, she wove among the men, forcing her pursuers to go around or