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“It’s a quick sail,” Cormac said as they caught up to him. “She’s slower than your sloop—”
“But all the better to navigate the harbor,” Aidan finished, knowing how tight the Aberdeen slips were. “You’ll just drop us. Even if you did have warrant to dock, since the trouble you caused—”
“We caused,” Cormac corrected.
“Aye. ” Aidan shot him a grin. “Since the trouble we caused, I think you’d best make haste away from port before we’re recognized. ”
As they neared their destination, Aidan’s heart went to his throat. There was a gaping stretch where the Endeavor had been docked. “They’re gone. ”
“You don’t know that,” Cormac said, rowing to an empty patch of harbor.
Angus scowled. “He’s a sailor too? I thought this Fraser was a knit merchant. ”
“He doesn’t have a boat. ” Aidan leaped onto the pier, followed by Angus. “His partner does. A ship. ”
The ship that’d stolen him away, so many years ago. And now it was out there somewhere, stealing his Elspeth away. He shook off the feeling, thinking he needed to gather himself, battening down emotion as he’d furl a boat’s sail.
“Good luck,” Cormac told him. “Whoever this pirate is, I couldn’t save you from him. But I know you can save Elspeth now. ”
Aidan reached down to clasp Cormac’s hand. “Thank you. ”
When he turned to Angus, the man was watching him with startlingly sharp eyes. It gave him the unsettling sensation that the farmer could read him like a book. Aidan had completely mistaken him—he was no dullard at all. He gave him a grim smile, eyeing the man’s farm tools. “Your weapons?”
Hefting the awkward tools in his hands, Angus headed up the pier, an answering grin spreading slowly across his face. “There are weapons all around. The best are the ones least likely. ”
Aidan shook his head with a quick laugh. “So it is, farmer. ”
As Angus’s smile faded, it struck Aidan how that’d been the first glimpse of humor he’d ever seen on the man’s face. He wondered if it would be the last. Trying to get a bead on him, Aidan watched as he tucked the reaping hook in the belt of his breacan feile and strolled on, using the shepherd’s crook as a walking stick.
An errant thought struck him, carried on a surge of irrational jealousy. “What’s an oat farmer doing with a tool suited for sheep?”
“I don’t want your woman, MacAlpin. ” Angus didn’t break his stride. “Don’t be a fool. She doesn’t want me, or my gifts. Never has. I was going to find something to trade her for it. ”
“Why?” he asked, skeptical. Lately, he was of the mind that all men would surely fall in love with Elspeth, if they’d but open their eyes to her.
“I’ve seen how Farquharson treats the lass, as I’m sure you have. And, like you, I don’t much like it. ”
Elspeth had told him of Angus and Anya’s thwarted affair, and remembering it, he gave the farmer a grudging nod. The man had known Elspeth for years before Aidan had even met her.
Somebody stood at the head of the pier, leaning casually against one of its rotted wooden piles. Though his back was to them, Aidan could tell by his broad shoulders and soiled overcoat that he was the sort of lowlife who knew the goings-on dockside.
“When’d the Endeavor cast off?” Too late Aidan recognized him as the yeoman with the shining bald head he’d met in a tavern weeks ago. He was Fraser’s man, and the one who’d led Aidan to the merchant in the first place. “I’m looking for the Bishop,” he added, hoping the casual use of Fraser’s dockside identity would win him the information he wanted.
“The Bishop’s off to Arbroath,” the yeoman said, turning around. “And what business is it of yours?” He pinned Aidan with a squint. “Do I know you?”
Aidan felt bodies gathering behind him. He was grateful to sense Angus too, coming to stand at his shoulder.
Recognition dawned, and the yeoman’s squint turned to a glare. “I do know you. We was told to keep an eye out for you. ”
“For me?” Though Aidan pretended bemused innocence, his hand migrated closer to his sword hilt. How would Fraser know to look out for him?
“Aye, we was told a man would come round, chasing after Bishop’s ship like a fox on a rabbit’s tail. So, chasing the Bishop’s rabbit, are ye?”
The men behind him laughed, sidling closer.
There was no more pretending. Standing tall, Aidan wrapped his hand around his sword hilt, wondering what the farmer planned to do with a damned shepherd’s crook and hoping it’d be a better weapon than it looked. “Maybe I am. Did he leave with her?”
“Aye, ’twas his bride. And we was told to stop any who tried to interfere. ” The yeoman popped his knuckles. His fingers were fat, like sausages, to match his thick neck.
