The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(18)

With three boats ahead of him, one behind him, and the Irish coast to his right, he had no choice but to turn due north—straight into the wind—if he was going to avoid them.

He eyed the sails just visible ahead. There was still time. As long as they stayed quiet, they would slip away—

Quiet. Oh, hell. His gaze shot to the lass one second too late. He heard Domnall’s startled oath, followed by a soft splash.

Erik didn’t think, just reacted, and dove in after her—fully clothed and armed. He didn’t fight against the hard drag downward as the water took hold of his armor, instead waiting a few seconds for it to balance out. He barely noticed the shock of cold water that cut through him like icy spikes, penetrating to the bone. His only thought was to reach her before she could cry out and alert the English to their presence.

He followed the path where she’d gone in. When he didn’t find her right away, he shot back to the surface. The waves bobbed up and down, but he couldn’t see any sign of her. Where in Hades was she?

The troublesome lass was quickly making him regret his spurious act of gallantry in saving her skinny neck. He just might have to wring it himself when he caught up with her.

He looked at his men hanging over the boat, peering into the darkness also trying to find her. “See anything?” he whispered.

They shook their heads.

He swore and dove back under. The fool lass was going to drown herself. Why hadn’t she listened to him?

Because she’s scared.

Of me.

The realization bothered him. Having a lass run away from him wasn’t something he was used to.

He reached around in the watery darkness, hoping to find a leg, arm, or thick clump of hair. Nothing. He came back up, knowing she couldn’t have held her breath this long.

She hadn’t.

A surprisingly loud cry pierced the dark night air. “Help!” she shouted in English, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Over here, please help me. I’ve been abducted by pirates.”

Not a fool at all. He’d underestimated her. Instead of diving forward as most people would have done, she’d dropped under the boat and emerged on the other side, where no one was looking. She was also a strong swimmer, having traveled at least a hundred feet before sounding the alarm. He might admire the effort if it wasn’t about to cause him a whole heap of trouble.

Had they heard her yet? She gave another ear-piercing shriek that made him wince. Hell, half of Ireland had probably heard her by now. But so far, the English galleys had not adjusted their course.

He dove back under and swam for her as fast as he could. If they hadn’t heard her yet, they would soon. She’d had her excitement for the night, and he was about to put an end to it.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite that easy. His wet cotun and heavy weapons dragged against the strong current and it took him longer to reach her than it should have. By then he was too late.

When Erik surfaced, he could hear shouts coming from aboard the boats to the east. All three had turned in their direction and were bearing down on them fast.

They’d been sighted.

Fun time was over. He needed to grab the lass and get back to the boat as soon as he could. The troublesome nursemaid was still a few feet out of his reach, swimming hard while trying to yell at the same time. But she’d started to fade. Hardly surprising. The cold was sapping even his strength, and he’d had plenty of training.

He was just about to go after her when he heard Domnall shout, “Captain, behind you!”

He looked around to see a head bobbing up and down in the water and frantic splashing about twenty feet behind him.

God’s wounds, would this night’s adventures never end?

Randolph, the blasted fool, had apparently decided to play knight errant and attempt to rescue the lass, but he’d neglected to factor in the currents and his heavy chain mail. A wave crashed over him, and he didn’t come back up.

Domnall had turned the boat around and was heading toward him, but Erik was closer. He did a quick check of the lass. She’d stopped swimming and shouting, and seemed to be trying to conserve her energy. Their eyes locked in the darkness. His pulse quickened strangely. He swore he could read the silent plea for help in her eyes that her stubborn mouth would not voice.

Every instinct clamored to answer that silent plea, but he forced himself to think rationally. She had time that the king’s nephew did not.

He swam harder than he ever had in his life, diving deep until he thought his lungs would burst and his ears would explode from the pressure.

Weighed down by his chain mail, Randolph was sinking like a rock. Erik barely caught up with him. Even when he did, it took every ounce of strength he had left to drag him back to the surface. The stripling knight seemed to have gained the weight of three Highland warriors.

Fortunately, by the time they emerged from the watery tomb, Domnall had brought the boat around and was able to pull Randolph’s listless body from the water. His men would knock the water out of him—and maybe some sense into him at the same time.

Erik’s gaze immediately scanned the dark, churning seas for the lass. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the English sails getting perilously close. “Where is she?” he managed between sucking in big gulps of air.

Domnall shook his head. “I lost her.”

Erik didn’t want to believe it. Rage and frustration roared inside him as he stared frantically into the darkness. Not only had she set the English on them, but the blasted chit had gone and gotten herself killed in the process.