The Beauty of the Mist Read online

  “They are many like him, David. Especially among the Douglas blood. Those of ancient blood who fear good men like you. New men, lad. Men with ability.” John stood straight. “You’ve surely put up with them in the past, or perhaps it would be better to say you’ve ably subdued your anger. But what you’ve felt has never eaten away at you, as this hostility for Sir Thomas is clearly eating away at you now.”

  David turned and moved toward the open window.

  “Could it be, I wonder,” John continued. “Could it be that because of your attraction to his daughter, the man’s place at court frustrates you all the more?”

  “Aye. Perhaps it does.” David stared out into the gray nothingness.

  There fell a silence that neither would break. John knew very well the battle that raged within the young man. A battle of insecurity at not being worthy enough. It was a battle so similar to the one Caroline had so long enjoyed seeing him fight.

  Even born noble, John Macpherson was the third son, following in the steps of two highly successful brothers. The shoes to be filled were large. So large, in fact, that John had often, as a young man, despaired of being able to fill them. Of finding his own place. Of making his own mark. The tradition of the third son joining the clergy never seemed appropriate for him, for the whole family knew John was more pirate than priest. So in a very real sense, he had become the pirate. Sailing under the banner of the Stuart king, or sailing under his own flag, John Macpherson became the most feared warrior sailing the northern seas.

  But through the years, Caroline had done nothing but tear him down. A member of the powerful Douglas clan even before her marriage, she had too often found cause to stab at his pride. To remind him of her holdings, of the wealth she had inherited at coming of age.

  But his wealth exceeded hers tenfold. His victories at sea and the treasures taken had won him power and prestige. And yet, he’d chosen to keep silent. All the while, as she continued with her display of preeminence, he’d not said a thing. He’d held back his anger and made no attempt to make her see his true self. John Macpherson had been trained for a life where one’s value was tested and proven with every cut of the blade and not by the shrewdness of a sharp tongue.

  He endured her arrogance for too long, he thought now. The passion they’d shared was not love. But later on, when Caroline eventually resorted to keeping him at bay with the hints of other wooers, John had no longer been able to stand the very thing that he’d tolerated for so many years. He’d wanted an end to it all.

  Oddly, and quite out of character, Caroline had suddenly wanted a chance to change when faced with the reality of losing him. And he would have given her the chance had she not made it conditional. Suddenly it became essential that he should marry her. She had promised to change, to stop playing him for the jealous fool. But he couldn’t. John had shaken his head and turned away. And that had been the end of it all. Or so he’d thought.

  “I’ve been too reckless.” David spoke at last. “I’ve been foolish. She is a lady and I am just a sailor. Just a common sailor.”

  “A great navigator,” John interjected. “The finest there is.”

  “Still common though. If Sir Thomas were to find out that I’ve been courting his daughter behind his back, he would skin me alive. And the Lord only knows what he would do to her.”

  “Your wooing of Janet Maule has been completely innocent—so far as I can see. And she has responded in kind. She is no bairn, Davy. So where’s the harm?” John grabbed a decanter from the sideboard and poured out a drink for his man. Though he knew David was resilient enough, he hated to see his navigator so distraught. “And I don’t think it matters much that she is as blind as a wee mouse? She’s a pretty mouse, for all that!”

  “So you think the fact that she can’t see past the length of her arm is the reason she’s taken such an interest in me?”

  “What else could it be, man?” John nodded. “If she could only see your ugly face—”

  “She happens to like my ugly face,” David chirped in. “And as far as her sight goes, there is nothing wrong with it as far as I could tell. Aye, she claims that people and things are but a shadow when she looks at them from afar, but that’s where I come in. I just place her hand in the croak of my arm and lead her to things she can’t make out for herself. That is, if her father doesn’t catch wind of it.”

  “And the chances are, lad, that Sir Thomas will never know anything about it. At least, he’ll probably not learn of it while he is aboard the Great Michael.”

  Seeing David’s uncomprehending glance, John handed him the cup and then continued. “He is too busy watching and worrying about me and his new bride meeting in secret. Little else matters to him, I believe.”

  “Aye.” The navigator nodded knowingly. “Lady Caroline may have married him, but he certainly doesn’t have the look of a man who’s secure in the match.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He seems to be spending a great deal of time in your company, m’lord.” David shook his head. “I was wondering if he would ever broach the topic with you.”

  John looked at him steadily, before answering. “He has, actually, though not directly. And I have done whatever I could to try to put his mind at ease.”

  “It wasn’t enough, though, was it?”

  “It’s difficult to tell,” John answered. “Knowing Caroline, I’d guess that she is probably playing a barrelful of games with the man—jealousy being only one. My guess is that she’s working him to her will right now.”

  The Highlander poured himself a cup and drank it at once. Seeing the look of concern creasing the face of the young navigator, John smiled as he continued. “I am just glad she has him to play with and not me, Davy. But sadly for Sir Thomas, I can see that she hasn’t learned a thing.”

  Maria placed a gentle kiss on Isabel’s brow and smoothed back the older woman’s hair. The physician’s medicine was quite effective. After quickly dropping off to sleep, her aunt hadn’t so much as moved a muscle.

  She turned toward the servant tidying the room.

  “Are you certain? I am not asking too much of you?”

  “You are not, m’lady,” the young woman blurted out, whirling to face her. “Mistress Janet gave me strict orders to remain in this cabin until she returns.”

  Maria looked in the direction of her sleeping aunt. “If she awakens, or asks for me...”

  “I’ll tell her you’ve gone to see Sir John, and you’ll be back in no time.”

  Maria nodded in approval and turned to go. But then her shaking legs and her fluttering stomach slowed her momentarily. Reaching the door, she stopped and took a deep breath. Perhaps this was not such a good idea. Isabel! How was it she let her aunt talk her into this? She turned again and glanced at the sleeping woman.

  “Is there something wrong, m’lady?” The young servant moved to her side.

  “Nay...nay.” Maria glanced down at her bandaged hands. The events of the night before were quite sketchy in her memory. Had he stayed in the cabin long? Who had carried her to her bunk? She remembered him asking so many questions. And then she’d passed out. Maria reached up with frustration and touched the latch.

  “Oh, I am sorry, m’lady. You can’t open the latch, can you?” Without another word, the woman opened the door wide and held it for her.

  With a tentative nod of appreciation to the serving woman, Maria shyly stepped across the threshold and into the corridor. She waited there for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. Looking down the narrow walkway, she could see the sailor who was standing guard at the base of a steep series of stairs, move at once in her direction.

  “Are ye needing something, m’lady?”

  “I was hoping, if you would be kind enough...” She was at a loss for words. She was not accustomed to this. Where was her entourage now? Where were the dozens of women that had been surrounding her for years, the ones who had served as her own human shield. The ones she could hide behind.r />
  The man waited patiently.

  “I need to see your commander.” She blurted at last.

  The man nodded in understanding. “If ye could wait a wee bit in your cabin, m’lady, I could send after him.”

  “I would prefer...” She tried to build her courage. “I would like to go to him. I need some fresh air, and I thought...”

  The elder man ran a gnarled hand over his grizzled face for a moment, contemplating the request.

  Maria waited, not knowing if there was any more explanation she should give. The sailor before her, though a few years older, looked like so many others who had sailed with them on their doomed journey. So much like the one who had lost his life in the escape. Pablo, who now rested at the bottom of the gray green sea.

  “Please,” she said simply. “I need your help.”

  The bowed back of the man creaked a bit straighter, and the hard edges of his sea worn face softened at the sound of her plea.

  “I can’t see Sir John having any objection to that.” The sailor looked up and down the corridor. “But before I can take ye up to him, m’lady, ye’ll need to wait here for a wee bit, until I find a mate to take over my post.”

  Maria nodded as the man scuttled down the corridor.

  So they were being watched. She’d thought the guard at the door had been posted merely for their convenience. How foolish of me, she thought. Of course, he would have them watched.

  But that was not going to stop her from asking him why. That is, if she could build the courage to ask him any of the things she was supposed to ask. Maria looked up as she heard the padding of footsteps coming down the corridor from behind her. It was the young boy. The one who had been helping the physician yesterday and again this morning. The lad came to a halt in front of her.

  Maria glanced at the curly, sandy-colored hair and the large brown eyes that were peering at her over the armful of linens. He hardly came to her shoulder, and she wondered how one so young could survive a life so rough as going to sea. He stood silently for a moment, obviously unsure of whether he should address her.

  “Are you feeling better, m’lady?” he blurted at last.

  “Aye, thank you,” she responded softly. The boy continued to stand and stare at her. “What is your name?”

  “Andrew Maxwell, m’lady. What’s yours?” The boy paled suddenly. “Oh, begging your pardon, ma’am. I’m probably not supposed to be so forward.”

  “That’s all right, Andrew,” she nodded with a smile. “My name is Maria. And how old are you?”

  “I’m nine—well, next year I will be.” He straightened his back. “But I am as strong as ten.”

  She couldn’t help but smile as the boy scuffed his foot across the planking of the deck. “And what’s your job?”

  “I do whatever needs to be done, m’lady. I am the brother to the ship’s navigator.”

  “I thought since you were helping the physician on his rounds, you must be his assistant, at least.”

  “That I’m not,” Andrew said at once, flashing a look of defiance. “The reason that I help the man is because Sir John has ordered me to. He says that by giving a hand to all who call for it, I’ll learn more than just sailing.”

  Maria nodded seriously in agreement. “That is a wise course.”

  “But when I grow up, I’m going to be a pilot, like my brother.” Andrew paused. “But it’s hard work to learn so much.”

  Maria appraised the boy, her eyes thoughtful.

  “Aye. But I’m certain you have what it takes, Andrew.”

  John Macpherson concurred with his navigator’s suggested route. They still had two weeks before their appointed audience with the Holy Roman Emperor Charles, at the end of March, but there was no way to tell when the fog would lift. Going by David’s calculations, if they remained fog bound for more than a week, then they should take their chances and try to capture some of the light breeze that occasionally sprang up and work their way eastward toward the Danish coast. From there a messenger could be sent overland through Friesland and the Netherlands to Antwerp and the Emperor’s palace with news of their whereabouts. With a fast horse, the man should be able to reach the court in less than a fortnight. The last thing John wanted was to have the upcoming marriage muddled by a bout of bad weather.

  “I guess if we need to sit tight, a week won’t ruin us,” John grumbled, rubbing his hand over his chin.

  David nodded in agreement, but John couldn’t avoid noticing the grin that tugged at the corners of his pilot’s mouth.

  “What is it now?” he snapped.

  “A week. A whole week, with not a thing to do.” The young man’s large brown eyes could not hide his mirth.

  “We’ve been stranded like this many times in the past,” John said, trying not to rise to the bait. “We’ll just have to make do.”

  “Not like this, m’lord,” David chirped. “I don’t believe you have been stranded like this before.”

  “What do you mean me? What is the difference between this fog and any—”

  “A great deal of difference, m’lord!”

  John glared threateningly at his pilot as the latter leaned over the maps.

  “Would you care to clarify that statement,” the Highlander growled. “Or are you just happy to rile my temper with riddles?”

  “I would say more, if you were not in such bad humor,” David complained wryly, busying himself with his measurements once again. “Aye. Considering the circumstances, just forget I said anything, m’lord.”

  “And you can go to hell, you mouse-eared marmoset,” John cursed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve taken too many blows to your head, drunk a wee bit too much seawater, and bedded a few too many harbor whores. But whatever’s caused it, I think you’ve lost your mind at last.”

  David’s pained expression was comic, indeed, but John kept the fearsome glower on his face.

  “Thank you for your words of support, Sir John.” The navigator grinned. “But you know I don’t drink seawater.”

  “Aye, I’ll give you that,” his commander growled. “I’ll even grant that you’re not much for the women dockside. But if you think you’re going to taunt me...”

  “Well, m’lord. It’s just that, in this fog, even a ship as vast as the Great Michael seems to grant you no more protection than a long boat.”

  “You are daft, Davy, lad! Protection from whom?”

  “Perhaps I am daft, Sir John,” David conceded, shrugging his shoulders. “But from what I can see, too many are wanting you, m’lord. Just too many. Your hard won reputation is simply to be your undoing, in the end.”

  “Wanting me...?” John snarled impatiently.

  David straightened from the table and faced his commander. “Well, m’lord, there’s that married lady below, the poor thing, sitting in her cabin, doing little else but dreaming of you and pining away her loss. That is, when she’s not tormenting her husband.”

  “I’m finding it hard to believe that Lady Caroline’s been sharing these thoughts with the likes of you.”

  “Nay, m’lord. Though I do hear a few things from her sweet-faced stepdaughter,” David answered. “The darling Mistress Janet.”

  “Ahh! Of course. And Mistress Janet shares it all with you.”

  “Of course! The poor Lady Caroline was once, as everyone in Scotland knows, an active woman. But now she sulks and sighs and flies into rages, cursing the Great Michael and all who sail on her, and putting Mistress Janet out of their cabin for no reason at all. Och, it’s a terrible fierce thing, I would imagine, newly married to one man, but wasting away for another.” David shook his head. “Truthfully, though, I feel for Mistress Janet—caught in the middle and no where to turn.”

  “Except to you.” John nodded skeptically, but he knew deep down that, aside from the badgering, David’s words contained a strong possibility of truth.

  “Aye. Who else could the lass swing her bow toward? She only began to confide in me when she decided
to find out for sure—from someone close to you—that the lady’s affections were only one sided. Janet doesn’t have the heart nor the courage to discuss any of this with her father, but still she feels an obligation to do something about it. Nay, it doesn’t look good. Only two months of wedded bliss and already second thoughts.”

  David moved over to the window and sat on a high stool, leaning back against the window casing. John knew he wasn’t finished and drummed the table with his fingers impatiently.

  “What else, pilot. Out with it.”

  “Well, m’lord,” the younger man continued seriously. “Only that you should be at ease knowing I represented you and your feelings truthfully to the lady. I assured Janet that you are not just happy for Lady Caroline, but delighted that she should have chosen as fine a warrior and as upstanding a man as Sir Thomas. I told her that you harbor no regrets, nor longings of any kind for the woman.”

  “That’s very good of you, David. Though I don’t think you need to be speaking for—”

  “It was a pleasure, m’lord,” the navigator interrupted.

  “Aye, I’m quite sure it was, all things considered. But—”

  “But there’s more still, Sir John.”

  “Oh, is there, now? Don’t tell me, you are giving up your trade and taking over the vocation of confessor on this ship?”

  “That I am not.” David paused for a moment. “Though I’d be willing to wager there’d be a fair profit to be made selling indulgences to the lot we’re carrying this—”

  “Will you continue?” John growled.

  With a nod, the younger man started again. “Well, you know the stalwart Sir Thomas is dogging you whenever you’re anywhere to be found. But did you know that you have the good gentleman spending the rest of his day stewing about on deck and trying to find crew men that he can bribe to keep him informed of your whereabouts.”

  “My whereabouts?”

  “Aye, m’lord. At all times.”

  “He doesn’t.”

  “He does,” David said matter-of-factly.