His jaw set in the way Mari was familiar with, and she braced herself for a round of arguments, but Jamie surprised her by saying nothing. The captain grinned at him.
“’Tis a good thing I’m nae needing help with the sails,” he said. “Ye seem to have yer hands full with the Sassenach.”
Jamie nodded grimly. “Ye have no idea.”
The captain’s grin widened, and he escorted Effie to the open hatch and ladder that led down. The maid cast a doubtful look at Mari and then, as a gust of wind sprayed water across the deck, she disappeared below.
“Ye really should follow yer maid’s lead.”
Mari lifted her chin, mainly to keep her teeth from chattering. “I…I…like…it on deck.”
Jamie shook his head and unwrapped his plaid from his shoulders and put it around Mari’s. “Ye are more stubborn than my sister, Bridget. I hate to see what happens if the two of ye butt heads.”
“I am sure we will not,” Mari said and then frowned. “I cannot take your plaid. You will freeze.”
“I am used to the weather.”
“That may be, but with this mist, you will be soaking wet. Ian will throttle me if you catch your death of cold.”
“Ye could do me the favor of going down below then.”
“I will be ill down there.” Mari hesitated and then she sighed. “I suppose we couldsharethe plaid.”
Jamie grinned, his dimple showing. “Do ye regard me as the lesser of two evils, lass?”
“That is not—” she retorted hotly and then stopped. He was teasing her again—the rogue—when she was just trying to be kind. Mari would have stamped her foot in frustration except her footing was chancy at best, and she certainly did not need to plummet to the deck. “Oh, hush,” she said grumpily and extended an arm, holding the plaid out. “Do you want to share or not?”
Jamie’s eyes darkened to amber and he slipped behind Mari, pulling the plaid around them, encircling his arms around her waist while he tugged her against him. “If ye insist,” he said, his breath warm against her ear.
Mari was instantly warm all over. How strange—what a difference a plaid could make.
By the time the boat docked in the shallower water in the estuary off Loch Linnhe, Mari was beginning to feel quite the accomplished sailor—not that she’d had anything to do with handling sails, but she hadn’t slipped and fallen flat on the rolling deck, nor had she cast up her accounts when Jamie finally persuaded her to go below since the wind had sharpened and the captain needed every available hand on the sheets. Mari had even managed to nibble on some hardtack that tasted surprisingly good in the salt air, but that might have been because the bowls of broth Jamie had sent down contained another wee drop of his brandy.
Even Effie’s color returned by the time they were helped down the gangplank, although she mumbled something about how being on a boat was near as bad as being close to a horse.
“’Tis nae far now,” Jamie said as one of the wharf workers led a horse and sleigh out from the small building that served as a boarding stable for those who travelled by sea and back. “Ye might find this a bit more to yer liking,” he said to Effie as he helped her and Mari into the rear of the sleigh where furs were heaped in a pile. In no time, he had both of them covered to their chins. To Mari’s delight, warm bricks lined the bottom of the sleigh and she sighed in bliss. Her toes felt half-frozen since the thin leather half-boots had been little protection from the water that sluiced over the decks.
Jamie climbed onto the driver’s seat and Mari frowned. Why wasn’t he sitting beside her? There was room, and he would be much warmer. Sharing the plaid on board ship had proved how important it was to share body heat. Really, he could catch a quite a chill up there exposed to the wind and mist that seemed to hang like a veil over the water’s edge. “Would you not be more comfortable back here?” she blurted as Effie gave her a poke.
Jamie turned to look down at her, his eyes changing from gold to amber. “Aye, lass, I would, but this is Ian’s sled. He left it here so we will nae be needing a mon to drive us home.” With that, he tapped the reins to the horse’s rump and the animal took off at a trot. Mari thought it probably knew it was headed for its own warm stable and a good portion of oats.
Home. For Jamie, though his own isle was even farther north, this was home. Mari looked at the passing landscape covered in white velvet with crystal icicles hanging from brown branches. To their left, the slate-colored water of the estuary shone silver in the weak, wintery sunlight, while to the right Ben Nevis rose majestically, green conifers gracing its steep hillside, its summit lost in the misty clouds.
This was also Jillian’s home now. She had written about how much she loved the mountains and glens and ruggedness of the Highlands, and how she looked forward to spring and seeing the heather on the moors. Mari took a deep breath.
Did Jillian still live to enjoy the spring?
