Rogue of the High Seas (15 page)

“Ye surprise me,” Shauna said.

An amused expression crossed Robert's face. “Do I?”

“Aye.” Shauna became aware that, for the first time in several weeks, he was actually close enough that she caught the clean, soapy scent of him. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes to savor the moment. When she opened them, Robert's gaze had gone darker. Everyone else was looking at her as well. Good heavens, what had she done? Shauna hoped she hadn't made any kind of moaning sound.

“Ah…I was savoring the gumbo. I dinnae ken ye were such a good cook.”

He grinned. “There are a lot of things I'm pretty good at.”

Shauna felt her face heat as her imagination flew to
things
that didn't have to do with kitchens. But of course, that wasn't what he'd intended. She swept a sideways glance at him. Was it? He was still grinning. “I meant, I dinnae ken ye knew how to cook.”

As soon as she said the words, she wanted to take them back. “What I mean—”

“Is that the gumbo is excellent,” Abigail said. “It was kind of you, Captain, to give Kyla a reprieve from making the meal.”

Bless Abigail. Shauna picked up her spoon, deciding the best thing to do was eat. It would keep her from making more insulting remarks.

“Mayhap ye could give me cooking lessons?” Kyla asked, her eyes big and round.

Shauna took another spoonful of gumbo before she could tell Kyla what she thought of that idea. As if things weren't bad enough with Colette hovering in the office…

“I really need to help at the docks until Shane returns,” Robert said, “and then finish fixing the rudder on the
New Orleans,
but I'll be glad to leave the recipe for Janet.”

“Please do,” Abigail replied.

As Shauna scraped her bowl clean, Robert leaned toward her, and she could feel his body heat, causing warmth to surge through her as well.

“Would you like more?” he asked.

She stared at him, every inch of her aware of his closeness. “More?”

A corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Gumbo.”

“Gumbo.”
Gumbo
. Robert was asking if she wanted more gumbo, not… Good God, she needed to stop this fantasizing. “Aye. Please.”

“Good.” He refilled her bowl and set it down. “I like a woman with a good appetite.”

Appetite. If only he knew what kind of an appetite she really had.

Chapter Sixteen

The dinner with Robert last night had been nearly perfect, although Kyla had managed to linger afterwards asking questions about cooking. In today's harsh light, Shauna was faced with Owen coming to call.

She hated the thought of Colette fluttering around the office while Robert manned the counter by himself this afternoon, but she'd already made one excuse not to see Owen, and he'd stayed away for several days. A second excuse would be seen as a true insult.

Thankfully, Abigail kept her word to chaperone such visits. Owen had no sooner arrived and been seated in the parlor when Abigail made an appearance with the tea tray, followed by Kyla carrying plates of spiced, baked apple slices and a small crock of clotted cream.

Owen inhaled appreciatively at the aroma. “Has Janet returned to the kitchen?”

Kyla gave him a baleful look. “I warmed these up myself.”

Shauna suppressed a smile. Kyla had warmed the apples, but they were left over from the dessert Robert had made. Perhaps it was just as well that Kyla claimed credit since Shauna didn't want to explain about the dinner.

Owen looked skeptical. Shauna remembered the meal Kyla had attempted last Saturday night and that Owen had excused himself early, probably to go to a public house to eat. Maybe that was why he had not been back since. Kyla's—and her own—lack of cooking skills was a gift-horse Shauna wasn't going to look in the mouth.

Owen eyed his plate somewhat warily and then took a tentative bite. His eyes widened. “These are delicious. They rival anything I have had at the Adelphi Hotel in London.”

Shauna hid another smile. Owen probably wouldn't be so complimentary if he knew Robert had baked the apples.

“I am glad you like them,” Abigail said before Kyla could reply. “Please enjoy.”

“I met an acquaintance of yours at the Edinburgh Commercial Company on Monday,” Owen said to Shauna around a mouthful of apple. “A man named Neal Austin. He said you visit his father.”

“Aye. On Thursdays at the charitable home,” Shauna replied. “What was Mr. Austin doing at the Commercial Company?”

Owen gave her a studied look before he replied. “He trades in textiles. Do you not want to know what I was doing there as well?”

She probably should have asked that question first. Abigail would have done so to be polite. Shauna bit her lip. Drat it. Why did Owen always manage to make her feel defensive? Abigail would apologize nicely, but Shauna was a stubborn Scot, at least where Owen was concerned. “Ye were probably doing something financial.”

“I was. I would like to see Edinburgh have a stock exchange similar to London's. It would make sense to regulate Scotland's commerce from here. Woolens and textiles are already in demand, and if I am going to establish a kelp trade, I would rather eliminate as many middle men as I can.” Owen chewed the last bite of apple. “I intend to become very wealthy. You should be grateful to be getting such a resourceful husband.”

Grateful? Shauna managed not to grind her teeth. Owen assumed she was going to marry him, the saints preserve her. She threw Abigail a desperate glance.

Abigail poured more tea for Owen. “If the betrothal becomes official you should discuss your financial plans and arrangements with Shauna.”

Owen nearly choked on a swallow. “Why in the world would I do that? Business is a man's world.”

“Shane has always admired Shauna's ability to make good decisions.” Abigail gave him an innocent look and smiled. “I am sure he will expect her future husband to find that trait admirable.”

“My brothers would agree,” Shauna added.

“Certain traits are admirable in a woman,” Owen said noncommittally and stood. “If you will excuse me, I just remembered I have a contract to look over.”

Kyla blinked at Shauna as Owen left. Then she shook her head and muttered something about how a smart woman could be so daft as she removed the plates from the parlor. Shauna paid her no mind. She felt like she had finally won a round.

Bless Abigail.

Neal Austin was waiting on the steps of the charitable home the next day when Shauna approached for her visit with Mr. Adler. A barouche also waited.

“My father is already inside,” Neal said. “I hope you remembered we planned to go for a carriage ride this afternoon.”

She'd forgotten, but now she recalled that Mr. Adler had asked to see more of Edinburgh. “Are ye sure your father's well enough?”

Mr. Adler stuck his head out the window. “I am indeed. Please join me.”

“After you,” Neal said as he opened the carriage door, pushed down the steps and offered his hand.

Shauna hesitated for the briefest of moments and then chided herself. Normally, she wouldn't get into a carriage with two men who weren't her relatives, but Mr. Adler was a
patient
at the home and could use some fresh air. His son had been nothing but polite and definitely solicitous of his father. There really was nothing to be wary of. The rented hack had a driver as well. Besides, it was broad daylight and the streets were busy.

She took Neal's offered hand, thinking how cool it was it comparison to Robert's warm ones and then berated herself for such silliness. The air definitely had a nip to it since the storms had passed through. Of course Mr. Austin's hands would be cold.
Although
, a voice inside her head reminded her,
the night Robert fastened his cloak around me was cold too…
Stop it!
Shauna stepped up and sat on the seat opposite Mr. Adler. To her relief, his son sat beside him.

“I asked the driver to take us around the city, but perhaps you could point out some of the historic spots?” Neal asked.

“I doona ken the whole of it since I am a Highlander,” Shauna said as the carriage lurched forward. “But the city is divided by Princes Street. Shane's townhouse is in the New City. The Old City runs from Castle Rock to Holyrood. Do ye want to see the Castle? None have lived there since '45, but 'tis open for visits.”

“Not today, my dear,” Mr. Adler said. “I was thinking perhaps we could go near the water—not the port, of course—but somewhere a bit more quiet. I have been told sea air is invigorating.”

“Aye. 'Tis, but it's a chill wind that blows off the Firth today.” Shauna thought for a moment. “We might go to Dene Village on River Leith. There are some old watermills in a deep gorge there. 'Tis somewhat protected from the wind as well.”

“An excellent choice,” Mr. Adler said.

Neal tapped the roof, signaling the driver to stop so he could give new directions. Once the carriage moved on again, he turned to Shauna. “I believe I met your fiancé several days ago”

Shauna schooled her face not to show her irritation. Was Owen going around town telling people they were betrothed? Good Lord, she had to put a stop to that. “I have accepted no man's troth,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.

Neal looked perplexed. “Perhaps I misunderstood. Mr. MacLean indicated he had come to Edinburgh to pay you court.”

Shauna forced a smile. “He has mentioned that.”

“Is this the young man you told me about?” Mr. Adler asked.

“Aye.”

“I am so sorry. He still persists then?”

“Aye,” Shauna said again. Mr. Adler looked so sympathetic she was tempted to tell him how arrogant she thought Owen was, but there wasn't anything Mr. Adler could do, so she kept her thoughts to herself. She would have to figure a way to handle this.

“One can hardly blame the man for being persistent,” Neal said smoothly. “After all, not only are you attractive, but intelligent as well—if you do not think me too forward for saying such.”

“Owen doesnae think me smart,” Shauna said before she could stop herself.

“Why do you say that?” Neal asked.

Shauna shook her head. She'd already blurted out too much. She didn't need to be airing her dirty laundry in front of strangers. Besides, as Abigail had reminded her, most men didn't value women for their brains. “I just like to use my mind more than most women do,” she said and then pointed out the window to change the subject. “Ye can see the river from here. It shouldnae be too long before we are there.”

“I think we have to be careful not to underestimate Shauna MacLeod,” Nicholas told his father after they'd returned from their afternoon outing and dropped Shauna off in front of Shane's townhouse.

Wesley snorted and sank into a chair by the window of his room. “You are not falling for the bitch, are you?”

Nicholas poured both of them a brandy from the flask he carried and smiled, but his eyes were cold. “Hardly. But it seems to me the reason you were not successful in your previous revengeful endeavors is because you failed—”

“I did not fail!”

Nicholas lifted both brows. “
Non
? Not only did the MacLeod men remain unscathed, they married the women you tried to molest, and their younger sister has a big, hulking protector as well.”

Wesley glared at Nicholas, not needing to be reminded of the missed opportunities for revenge—opportunities that his
sons
had bungled, not him. He should have been awarded ownership of his father's estate. He should be reveling in the wealth and comfort afforded him as the Marquis of Newburn. Most of all, he should be indulging himself by plundering his young stepmother in bed, teaching Jillian the pleasures of pain and increasing the amount she could bear on a regular basis. That's what he should be doing. Instead, Ian MacLeod was enjoying everything that should be his. And if he couldn't get directly to that son of a bitch…

“Shauna MacLeod will pay for the sins of her family.”

“As long as you do not underestimate her,” Nicholas said.

“I did quite well today,
non
? The stupid chit believes salt air is healthy for me. It won't be hard to convince her to take us a little farther toward the Firth next time and then on to the outlet.”

“She may fall for your ruse. How much time do we have? Do you have any idea when Richard is supposed to arrive?”

“The last post he sent said he planned to set sail the end of February if weather conditions allow. That should bring him here in about two weeks.”

Nicholas looked skeptical. “Even if Richard is waiting with a ship soon and things do not go afoul this time, how do you propose to get her on board with a full crew watching? You do not expect her simply to walk on by invitation, do you?”

“Of course not. I expect you to carry her onboard.”

“
Que? C'est fou!
Are you insane?” Nicholas stared at him. “She will fight like a hellcat. Need I remind you my hands are those of an
artiste
? I cannot risk my fingers being injured.”

Wesley tossed his brandy back and slammed the glass on the table. “You are worried about your fingers when so much else is at stake?”

“These fingers—” Nicholas held up his hands, “—are what supported you while we were in Dublin, remember? I make quite a good living with them.”

A muscle ticked in Wesley's jaw. “
Oui
, do not worry about your precious hands. The bitch will be in a stupor.”

Nicholas stopped with his glass halfway to his lips and set it down. “How—”

“Laudanum. You will ask the confectioner to put it in chocolate truffles like you did that time in London.”

Nicholas smiled. “For my poor, ailing father to relieve him of his terrible pain?”

“
Oui
. You can manage that,
non
?”

“I did before, did I not?” Nicholas looked thoughtful. “But what if the crew asks questions?”

Wesley sighed. Nicholas was just as stupid as his bitch mother had been. “I doubt the men Richard will procure for crew will ask questions.”

Nicholas widened his eyes. “Pirates?”

Wesley shrugged. “I left that up to Richard, but if the pirates are going to be paid for the bitch in Constantinople, they have a vested interest in making sure she gets there.”

“So that is why you were not worried about Shane MacLeod knowing any of them. Still, there is a possibility—”

“Will you give me credit for some intelligence?” Wesley demanded. “I am not going to fail this time. Now…” he poured himself another brandy, “…tell me what you found out about Owen MacLean. I have a feeling he is going to be very useful to us.”