Rogue of the High Seas (9 page)

“Ah…Owen. Why are ye here?”

He tossed his coat onto a wall peg. “I came to help you.”

“With what? I am filing.”

“I can see that.”

“Does Shane ken ye came?”

Owen grinned. “He is the one who suggested you might need help.”

Shauna would have cheerfully given Shane a kick to his shin, except he wasn't here. Why did he think she'd want help from Owen? She suspected the little interchange with Robert at dinner last night had not gone unnoticed by her cousin, and this was his way of making sure Owen had a fair chance.

“I was about to go over the bill of lading from the Kirkcaldy shipment,” Shauna said, sitting down at the desk and picking up the paperwork. “That's all I really have left to do today.”

Owen came around the counter, dragged a stool over to the desk and sat down beside her. “As it happens, I wanted to go over that shipment as well.”

Shauna furrowed her brows. “Why?”

“Because I am interested in harvesting kelp out of Loch Shiel and maybe even Loch Linnhe if I can establish a good profit margin.”

“I dinnae ken ye had a head for business.”

One dark brow rose. “Do you think me a simpleton?”

Shauna felt her cheeks heat. “Nae. I dinnae mean it like that.”

“One of the reasons I stayed in England for seven years was because I had the opportunity to clerk for Nathan Rothschild. I learned how the financial world operates.”

Shauna recalled Shane mentioning the name once in regard to financing the Duke of Wellington's troops in the Napoleonic war. Rothschild was building his own dynasty, Shane had said. Did her cousin know Owen had worked for the man? Was that part of the reason Shane wanted her to give Owen a chance?

“And ye plan to use that knowledge to help your da?”

“In a way. My thoughts were more in finding a way to bring back the crofters who were forced out of their homes during the Clearances.”

Shauna widened her eyes. “Ye heard about that?”

“Of course. The Countess of Sutherland rather liked to brag about getting rich off raising sheep after she got rid of the farmers.”

“The woman is nae fit to be called a Scot.” Shauna had trouble keeping the bitterness out of her voice. “Burning two hundred homes in one day and driving the families into the cold to freeze or starve.”

“I agree. But since the countess prefers London society, I doubt she will venture to Scotland any time soon.”

“She almost did last year,” Shauna said. “My uncle, Duncan, and his brother hatched a plan to waylay her, but she turned back.”

Owen gave her a thoughtful look. “I had not heard of a plot.”

“Because Ian and Jamie put a stop to it.”

“Good. The countess has influence with the prince regent. Striking out against her would be akin to attacking the English. Ian could lose his lands.”

“He kens that.”

“Good,” Owen said again and held out his hand for the bill of lading. “If these profits are good, I can bring many of the families back from the coast and put them to work for the MacLeans—if they're willing to switch allegiances, that is.”

“I think Clan Sutherland may have left a wee bitter taste in the mouths of the survivors,” Shauna said.

Owen nodded. “That is what I am hoping for, because I have plans.”

Chapter Ten

“Did ye send Owen MacLean to the office to see me on Monday?” Shauna asked Shane two days later when she'd finally cornered him in the library. He'd been helping Mr. Frazier with interviews as well as tending to his usual shipments, which meant he didn't get home until the dinner hour. He spent his evenings with Abigail, and Shauna hadn't wanted to interfere with that, but she wanted some answers.

Shane paused in flipping through some papers. “I dinnae order him to see ye.”

“I dinnae ask if ye ordered him.” Her cousin could be evasive when he chose. “Did ye tell him I needed help?”

“I thought ye might since Abigail will be staying home.”

“Abigail agreed to stay home?”

“'Tis best,” Shane said. “I willnae have her risk harming the bairn.”

Shauna narrowed her eyes. “Why do I get the idea ye are manipulating Abigail and me like pieces on a chessboard?”

“I am nae doing that.”

“I doona agree, but 'tis nae why I came here.”

Shane eyed her warily. “I am a fool for asking, but does Owen have something to do with this visit?”

Shauna nodded. “What do ye ken about his plans?”

She'd been unsettled by the conversation with Owen. He'd refused to discuss his plans with her, saying she didn't need to worry her pretty little head, which annoyed her not only because she didn't consider herself a pretty piece of fluff, but also because she had a mind that worked. Beyond her usual irritation with the man, though was the fact that he wanted to bring the crofters back and provide a decent living for them. She couldn't find fault him for that.

“What plans do ye mean?”

She told him as much as she knew. When she finished, he shrugged.

“I doona see a problem in harvesting kelp from Loch Shiel,” Shane said.

“Aye, but what of his other plans? The ones he wouldnae tell me about?”

“Why should he? Ye are nae his wife or his betrothed—yet.”

Shauna snapped her mouth shut. She had no intention of becoming Owen's betrothed, but this was not the time to announce that. Her cousin had a point, although she doubted Owen would even consider consulting his wife like Shane did with Abigail.

“This could be a blessing for all,” Shane said. ‘Harvesting kelp provides income to displaced crofters and strengthens Clan MacLean. I have ships in Glasgow that can take the kelp ash to Ireland for glassmaking, and Henderson might even take shipments to the States.”

“I doona think Robert and Owen would care to work with each other.”

“'Tis business. They doona have to like each other.”

“But—”

“Perhaps ye should nae dwell on the matter,” Shane said. “Whatever ye might think of Owen, he has good business sense. Ian had hoped he would return to Scotland one day.”

Shauna looked at Shane suspiciously. “Did ye and Ian ken that Owen worked with Mr. Rothschild in London?”

“'Twas nae a secret.”

“So that is why Ian wants me to marry him?”

“'Twould be a good alliance, lass, that would benefit a lot of people.” Shane hesitated. “Ye are two-and-twenty. 'Tis time ye wed. Since Jamie is in London and Fiona in Ireland, Ian would like ye to stay close to home.”

“That is nae fair. I should be able to choose my own husband.”

Shane gave her a sympathetic look. “And ye think Robert Henderson is the mon for ye?”

Shauna felt herself blush furiously. “I dinnae say that.”

“Ye doona have to say it, lass. 'Tis in your eyes when ye look at him.”

Drat Shane for his observations. Growing up, he'd always caught on to things that Ian and Jamie had no inkling of. She thought she'd been so careful… Shauna lifted her chin. “Well, what if I do think Captain Henderson is the right mon? 'Tis nae a sin to marry an American.”

Shane studied her. “Has Henderson asked ye to marry him?”

She felt her face heat again. “Nae.”

“And he probably willnae.”

Shauna frowned. “Why? I ken I am nae a beauty like Fiona—”

“Stop. Doona belittle yourself.” Shane smiled. “Ye have beauty of your own. I suspect Henderson kens it too.”

She felt confused. “Then why…?”

Shane shook his head. “Something troubles the mon. I doona ken what it is, but I can sense it weighs heavy.”

Colette had said something similar. Shauna had no idea what either of them were talking about. Sometimes she wished she had some of the faerie magic said to belong to the MacLeods, but she had only logic. “I have nae noticed anything.”

“Well, whatever it is, the mon still lives a world away from us. Our family is close, and that is important. Ye need to think on it.”

Shauna nodded, not trusting her voice as she stood. As she left, she had the depressing feeling that it might be more difficult to reject Owen MacLean than she had first thought.

Even though she tried to put her visit with Shane aside, Mr. Adler noticed when she went to visit him the following day.

“Something is still troubling you,” he said as she took the chair opposite his in the small room off the entry that served as a day room. “Is it that young man you spoke of last time? Has he done something to upset you?”

She really shouldn't be talking about her personal life. Mrs. Tate had made it quite clear that visitors, and especially volunteers, were not to upset any of the patients. But Mr. Adler was so kind and he seemed to be truly concerned. “No, not really. It's just…it's really nothing.”

“Nonsense. You look sad, and I do not wish for you to be sad. Please tell me about it, my dear,” Mr. Adler said. “If I remember correctly, last time you said the young man used to annoy and tease you. Otis, I think you called him.”

“Owen.” Shauna looked around. Except for Mr. James napping in his favorite chair by the door, the room was empty. Maybe it would help to get an objective opinion from someone not connected to her. She turned back to Mr. Adler. “Owen told me he clerked for a Mr. Rothschild in London and has ideas on how to improve his father's lands. He also wants to bring the crofters back who were burned out with the Clearances, so he is nae a bad mon…”

“But you are unhappy?”

Shauna sighed. “It's just that he will nae tell me what his ideas are. He acts as if I am nae capable of understanding anything beyond preparing a meal or mending a shirt.”

“What a pity.” Mr. Adler shook his head. “It is quite obvious to me that you are a highly intelligent young lady.”

“Thank ye.” At least
someone
valued intelligence. She tapped the book she'd brought along. “I enjoy reading, but I also like working with numbers and using my mind to figure things out. Owen does nae agree.”

“More's the pity, if he cannot appreciate that.” Mr. Adler paused. “What does your family think about the situation?”

“My brother Ian and my cousin, Shane, think the match a good one. They would like to see me wed.” Just not to Robert, she almost added. Shane had made that clear earlier and then driven the point home by reminding her that America was a world away. “I ken 'tis a woman's place to marry, but…” She just wanted to marry someone who made her tingle all over. Not that she was going to tell Mr. Adler about her reaction to Robert or even mention him.

“But you feel this man does not value you?” Mr. Adler finished for her.

“Aye. I ken I should nae expect—”

“Of course you should expect to be valued,” Mr. Adler said. “A man who cannot do that is a fool.”

“Who is a fool?” a voice asked from the doorway. “Hopefully, not me.”

Startled, Shauna shifted in her chair. A dark-haired gentleman dressed in black entered the room, lithely avoiding Mr. James's outstretched legs and maneuvering around the sharp edge of a table with equal grace. His eyes were green, but a different shade than Robert's—more yellowish—and slanted up at the corners, making Shauna think of a panther moving toward them.

Mr. Adler smiled. “Miss MacLeod, meet my son, Neal.”

The younger man bowed. “A pleasure, I am sure,” he said with a slight accent she couldn't quite place. “My father has spoken quite highly of you.”

“Thank ye,” Shauna said as she rose, pleased that the elderly man had complimented her to his son. Mr. Adler must enjoy conversing with her. “I will leave ye to visit with your father.”

“You do not have to leave on my account,” Neal said.

“Mrs. Tate, the matron, prefers we let family visit in private,” Shauna answered.

“Then perhaps next time, we will go for a carriage ride when Neal visits,” Mr. Adler said, “and be gone from here. That is, if you have no objections, Miss MacLeod.”

“I doona want to interrupt family time.”

“You would do me an honor to show me the sights,” Neal said. “I am not familiar with Edinburgh and my father could use the fresh air.”

“Well, if ye put it like that, aye. I would be glad to go with ye.”

“Good. Then it is settled,” Mr. Adler said. “Shall we say next Thursday?”

Shauna nodded. “Next Thursday.”

“I will be looking forward to it as well,” Neal said and walked her to the hall, “and I thank you for visiting my father. It means so much.”

“I am happy to do it,” Shauna replied when he opened the door. She went down the steps, feeling glad Mr. Adler had such a caring son. Too many elderly people were forgotten by their grown children, but nice Mr. Adler wasn't one of them.

“How did I do?” Nicholas asked as he returned to his father.

Wesley laughed. “You are almost as good an actor as me.”

Nicolas grimaced. “Trying to sound British is damned hard.”

“It gets easier as time goes by.”

“Just remember, time is limited. Every day you stay here—that I stay in this God-forsaken country—becomes riskier. Let us not wear out the welcome.”

Wesley glanced at the snoring old man near the door. “We may not be in Paris at the Hotel Meurice, but I have a mission to accomplish.”

“One that is foolhardy.”

Wesley narrowed his eyes at his son. “That is for me to decide.”

Nicholas sighed and sat down. “So what do you want me to do this time? Rape the chit?”

“No. Given how naïve she is, I am sure she is a virgin.”

Nicholas grinned. “That would make it more enjoyable, given she's not much to look at. Not much to grab onto either.”

“Forget that. She is British.”

Nicholas looked puzzled. “Granted, I prefer hot-blooded, swarthy women, but—”

“Sultans like that pale, white skin.”

“Sultans?”

“Yes,
sultans
.” Wesley sometimes wondered if Nicholas were truly daft. His mother had been stupid. Maybe he had inherited that trait. “Turkish sultans pay well, especially if the bitch is also a virgin.”

Nicholas leaned back on the sofa. “You plan to sell her?”

“
Oui
.”

“
Comment
…how do you plan to do that? We tried abduction before. It did not turn out so well.”

“That is where the carriage rides come in. We will start taking those rides—” Wesley smiled, “—for my
health
, of course. You will also gain her trust by asking questions, letting her know you think she is intelligent—”

“An intelligent woman?” Nicholas interrupted. “Deceitful, cunning, experienced perhaps, but intelligent?”

“
She
thinks she is. That is all that matters.” Wesley sighed, wishing he didn't have to spell everything out for Nicholas. “Each time we will ride a little farther away, until finally, one day, we reach a place I have already picked out.”

“What good would that do? If you plan to have another carriage waiting, it would be a long ride, days on the road before we could reach London and take a ship. There would be too many opportunities for her to escape. Not to mention MacLeods hunting us.”

“I agree. There is an inlet near Leith, deep enough for a ship to anchor.”

Nicholas shot up straight. “A
ship
? Have you taken total leave of your senses? Shane MacLeod knows every ship that sails in and out of here.”

“MacLeod only knows ships that are
scheduled
to arrive or leave. This one will not be carrying cargo or be put into port.”

Nicholas shook his head. “MacLeod probably knows every captain that sails the Channel and the North Sea.”

“He will not know this one.”

“Why not?”

Wesley gave a disgusted snort. How could a son of his be so dense? “Because your brother, Richard, will be at the helm.”