The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(16)

He gave her another one of those smiles that was clearly meant to dazzle, but it barely even registered. Frustration boiled up inside her. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t know anything. Why wouldn’t he believe her? “And I’m supposed to trust the word of a Norse pirate?”

He lifted his brow in surprise at the accusation, then smiled as if she’d said something to amuse him. “Only part Norse.”

An Isleman. She should have realized it when she’d heard him speak. He was Gall-Gaedhil: part-Norse and part Gael Islander. But all pirate. The Islemen were just as notorious as their Norse forebears for their piracy. She noticed he hadn’t disagreed with her about his occupation.

“And as mine is the only word you have,” he added, “I’m afraid you’ll have to take it.”

She fumed silently, knowing he was right.

“What is your name, lass? Do you have a husband waiting for you?”

The question startled her. She eyed him carefully, wondering at his reason for asking. Did he wish to see if he could ransom her or—God forbid!—force her to marry him?

“Ellie,” she said carefully. Surely he must have heard Matty call for her. “I’m not married. As I said, I was with the group at the beach for the Maiden’s Plunge.”

His gaze flickered, and she wondered if he’d been trying to trick her.

“So you are from the village?”

The blood of Ireland’s most powerful noble ran through her veins, and it was almost reflexive to lift her chin and give him a disdainful “of course not.” But she knew she had to be careful. She didn’t want to reveal who she was, but she also knew that her rank afforded her some protection by encouraging the ruffians to keep their distance.

Suddenly, the answer came to her. “I’m a nursemaid to the earl’s children.” A position of respect, and more or less the truth, she thought wryly. Every man loved his nursemaid, didn’t he?

A strange grimace crossed his features, and he nodded, accepting her explanation with appalling ease. But wrapped in a plaid and gowned in a plain chemise, bereft of her expensive gowns and fine jewelry, she looked no more noble than a … pirate.

She knew the thought should make her laugh, but it struck her that there was indeed something noble about him. Something in the proud set of his shoulders, the air of command, and the arrogant glint in his eye.

She shook off the mental lapse. What a ridiculous thought to have about the scourge who’d just abducted her. Obviously it had been a long night.

He unfastened the brooch at his neck and removed the heavy fur-lined brat from his shoulders. “Here,” he said. “You must be freezing.”

She was, but his thoughtfulness surprised her. Apparently, she’d been abducted by a charming and gallant pirate.

Ellie was proud but not a fool. She accepted the brat with a curt nod and snuggled into its deep folds. It felt like heaven. Though she was still wet, it was surprisingly warm. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of a sigh.

“Can I trust you to keep quiet, or should I have Domnall tie you up?” The wicked gleam in his eyes made her think he was hoping for the latter.

Ellie masked her outrage and met his naughty grin with the same look of bored tedium that she gave her brothers when they tried to get a rise out of her. She looked down her nose at him, returning the challenge. “Can I trust you?”

One side of his mouth curved up in a cocky grin. “We shall see.” He gave her a mocking bow and said, “My lady,” before returning to his post at the stern of the boat. He even swaggered when he walked.

Ellie was dragged back down on the uncomfortable chest beside the older warrior he’d called Domnall. No longer in danger of turning into a human icicle and warm for the first time in what seemed like hours, she stared out into the soupy black mist, watching as with each plunge of the oars the boat pulled farther and farther away from her home.

Some of the terror had fled, but none of the despair.

Could she believe him? Did he really mean not to harm her? Would he return her to her family? He seemed in earnest, and she desperately wanted to believe him.

She watched him surreptitiously from under the veil of her lashes. He appeared to be arguing with a dark-haired young warrior who she thought had meant to come to her rescue in the cave. Something about the young warrior was different from the others. It wasn’t just his dark coloring; he was the only one wearing a shirt of mail and not the lighter-weight cotun war coat favored by the Gaels.

Every now and then the young warrior’s gaze shifted in her direction, making it clear that they were arguing over her—which couldn’t be good. Who knew what kind of nefarious plan the pirate captain had in store for her?

She straightened, resolve hardening her spine. A handsome face and devilish charm would not fool her. Her captor was a pirate and obviously involved in something untoward. Of course, she could not trust him.

Her gaze returned to the dark horizon before her, watching and waiting for any sign. When the opportunity for escape came, she intended to be ready.

His conversation with the lass bothered Erik more than he wanted to acknowledge. It wasn’t that she thought him a pirate—he’d been called worse, and undoubtedly there was some truth to the characterization. In fact, her belief probably helped. If she thought him a pirate, she would not connect him with Bruce.