The Red Drifter of the Sea (Pirates of the Isles #3) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,37
him and listened to him introduce her with a certainty in his tone that defied anyone questioning him—or her—she found the remnants of the wild girl she’d once been. The one who threw caution to the wind, riding too fast, climbing too high in trees, swimming out too far. The one her mother swore could never be tamed before she had put her wants and dreams aside to care first for her dying mother, then a clan who overlooked her.
“Lady Moira is my guest, so you will accord her the respect that demands. Any slight to her is a slight to me. Pray that all I do is set you adrift,” Kyle finished as he wrapped his hand around Moira’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. She longed to shift her focus to him, but she wouldn’t take her eyes off the crew. She wouldn’t look away, lest they think for even a moment that she depended upon Kyle as much as she did.
“Thank you, Capt’n,” Moira stated.
“Welcome aboard, my lady,” Tomas spoke up, nudging Snake Eye, who grunted and nodded.
“Begging your pardon for manhandling you that first day,” Snake Eye apologized, and Moira suspected he meant it. The man didn’t appear able to look sincere about anything but wishing death upon someone, but his voice held a note of authenticity. Moira nodded and offered a brief smile in return.
“My lady, I’m Braedon, the capt’n’s barrel man.” The adolescent boy who’d lent Moira the clothes she wore stepped forward. “If you’d care for a tour of the ship, I’d be pleased to lead you.” His gaze darted to Kyle. “Assuming the capt’n approves.”
“I think that would be nice,” Moira responded, turning her face toward Kyle. “Assuming the capt’n approves.”
“He does,” Kyle nodded before leaning to whisper to Moira. “I suspect you’ve already taken yourself on a tour, but there is still plenty that I shall show you that young Braedon can’t.” Kyle grinned as Moira’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink while she cocked an eyebrow, accepting his challenge.
Moira stepped forward, but Kyle squeezed her hand and tugged her back. Once more he leaned down to whisper to her. “I trust Braedon, Snake Eye, and Tomas with your life, but I don’t trust any of the others. Senga trained Braedon well, but he’s still no match for some of the larger men. Don’t go into any space where you and Braedon could be cornered. Promise me.”
Moira took in the gravity of Kyle’s warning, knowing Braedon would die and she would be assaulted if Kyle’s fears came true. She nodded and squeezed his hand.
“And lass,” Kyle purred, accentuating his burr. “Dinna think ye can get away with murder. If I discover you’ve disobeyed me, yer other set of cheeks will be as pink as the ones on yer face before the day is through.”
Moira nodded once more before turning back to Braedon. She struggled not to look back at Kyle to acknowledge how much she looked forward to her next spanking. Her core tightened as a tingle took root, making her want to squirm.
“Lady Moira, other than the ship we found you on, have you sailed before?” Braedon’s question drew her attention back to her tour guide. They stood below the mainsail, and Moira tilted her head back to watch the billowing canvas. She knew Kyle could order the crew to man the oars, but the breeze carried them along as they cut through the waves. They hadn’t been underway long, and they moved slowly.
Moira had spent time on Aidan’s ship, almost solely in his cabin, but she hadn’t sailed often. The most she’d done was a few trips to Rathlin Island, another MacDonnell keep. She’d also traveled overland to the clan’s keeps at Dunaneeny and Ballycastle, and to Kinbane, the MacAlisters’ stronghold. The MacDonnells and MacAlisters were allied, and she suddenly realized that she and the men helping her flee could have encountered a MacAlister ship near their coast.
“No. Only a few trips to Rathlin Castle on Rathlin, and that’s not very far at all,” Moira answered, coming back to herself.
“You have good sea legs on you for a landlubber,” Braedon grinned then quickly added, “My lady.”
“I shall take it as a compliment that you don’t think I’m a completely clumsy oaf meant only for dry land,” Moira snickered, making the boy relax.
“I didn’t mean offense, my lady.”
“I know you didn’t, Braedon, so I took none. How long have you been aboard the Lady Charity?” Moira asked.