Rebel Kiss: A Historical Romance Novel (Scottish Rebels Book 1) Page 3

“I’m fine, you oaf! Let me go!” she protested, kicking in an effort to free herself from Rowan’s embrace.

  “I’m not going tae let ye drown, sae ye might as well give up fightin.’ I’m a fair bit stronger than ye!”

  “We’ll see about that!” she challenged, using her arms to try to wriggle out of Rowan’s grasp.

  “Alright, drown if that’s what ye want. I’m sorry about yer bracelet,” Rowan said sincerely as he relented and let her go. Rowan’s eyes scanned the water. The waves had almost died down completely as the storm had continued its path up the coast. Perhaps now that the swelling waves had subsided, the young woman would stand a chance at survival.

  “I’m still mad at you for that,” she said, stopping and facing Rowan. “You have no idea of how much that bracelet meant to me,” she said, eyes welling up with tears.

  “Mayhap I can make it up tae ye?” Rowan offered tentatively. He hated it when a woman started to cry. “Perhaps ye could come with me over tae where my brothers are? Mayhap we can help ye.”

  The girl stared at him, her hazel eyes red from crying or the salt water. Rowan could see her defenses melting. From the look on her face, he knew that she was alone.

  She pondered his suggestion as if she had all the time in the world to make a decision. A look of surrender or possibly defeat spread across her face. “Alright, I’ll go with you,” she said begrudgingly, bobbing up and down with the rhythm of the ocean. “Will you help me swim?” she gritted out between clenched teeth.

  “Aye,” Rowan said, offering his hand. She placed her hand in his and he pulled her against his chest. She settled herself against him trustingly and allowed him to pull her towards his brothers. The seas had calmed significantly and Rowan was thankful that it was now easier to navigate the waves. Rowan deftly swam up to his brothers, still holding the lass tightly against his chest. Still not trusting her ability to swim by herself, Rowan unwrapped her arms from around his shoulders and fitted her hands around the security of the mast. He waited for her to take a firm hold on the mast, only releasing his grip on her waist when he was sure that she had a hold of the slippery mast.

  Rowan grabbed onto the mast and let his head fall forward against the safety of the floating wood. It was slick and cold against his forehead. He closed his eyes and forced his breathing to return to normal. His muscles burned fiercely. Rowan allowed his legs to hang slack beneath the security of the mast. Going after the girl had been risky and fool-hearted.

  He could have been killed.

  Waves lapped lazily at the side of the mast.

  “Are ye alright, Malcolm?” Rowan asked his little brother, his cheek still pressed against the mast. The look of panic was still fresh on the Malcolm’s face.

  “Aye. Just wishin’ that we were on dry land,” Malcolm said, chuckling slightly as his head bobbed above the gentle waves.

  “This is…” Rowan trailed off as he tried to introduce the young lady to his brothers. He realized that he didn’t even know her name.

  “Anna,” the young woman interjected, reaching out to hold on to Rowan’s shoulder for support as she tightened her arm about the mast. “Anna Stanton.”

  Anna rested her cheek against the wet mast and held onto the slippery beam for dear life. The swim had exhausted her. Her legs burned from exertion, her muscles trembling beneath the surface of the cool water.

  “Nice tae meet ye, Anna. I’m Malcolm, and this is my brother Quinn,” Malcolm said, nodding towards his oldest brother. “He wanted tae go down with the ship, sae doona expect much conversation out of him.”

  Anna’s eyes darted between the brothers, a look of concern flashing across her face. She wondered why Quinn would have wanted to go down with the ship. Quinn looked angry and made no effort at casual niceties.

  “And who is he?” Anna asked as she craned her neck towards her savior, her hand still wrapped tightly around his biceps.

  “Why that’s Rowan,” explained Malcolm. “Was he sae rude as no tae introduce himself?”

  “I was busy trying tae save her from drowning. There was no time for introductions,” Rowan said, annoyance thick in his voice.

  “Mam would be most displeased with ye brother, I ken that she taught ye how tae behave around womenfolk,” Malcolm chided, some of the fear dissipating from his green eyes. He rested his chin atop the mast and smiled slightly as he goaded his brother.

  “It’s quite alright, Malcolm. I can see that your brother needs to learn some manners. He already forced me to strip out of my dress.”

  “He what?” Malcolm and Quinn asked in simultaneous disbelief, eyes focused now intently on their brother.

  “Aye…I did ask her to strip out of her dress, but only because she was drowning in it. She was all tangled in the skirts and I thought that she might be able tae swim better without it…” Rowan trailed off, seeing that his reasoning was falling upon deaf ears.

  Malcolm shook his head in dismay. “Ye really asked her tae take off her dress?”

  “Aye, I had to!” Rowan exclaimed in defense.

  “Anna, I’d like tae apologize for my brother’s rudeness,” Quinn offered with a hint of a smile. “I’m sure that the stress of this adventure has caused him to lose all rational thought.”

  “It’s quite alright. I mean, I can swim better without it,” Anna said, eyes darting back towards Rowan.

  “Still, it’s absolutely deplorable that Rowan would disgrace ye in such a way, askin’ ye tae take yer clothes off. This being a life or death situation and all Rowan could think of was how tae get ye out of yer gown!” Malcolm exclaimed in mock disbelief, eyes taunting his brother.

  Anna looked over her shoulder at Rowan, who shrugged in a gesture of innocence. Surely he had not just been thinking about how to get her out of her gown and had been truly seeking to help her chances of surviving this ordeal.

  Having grown up in England, Anna had been taught to be wary of their Scottish neighbors to the north. She had heard of their brutal ways and their heathen nature. English forces were at war with the Scots now and from what Anna had heard the English were in the final stages of quelling the Scottish uprising against the Crown.

  Despite all of this, there was something about these brothers, Rowan included, that caused Anna to trust them.

  “We should start moving towards the shore. Ye can see it in the distance if ye look,” Rowan said, seeking to change the subject and remove some of the heat that his brothers had been placing on him.

  “Aye, the storm has died down. We might be able tae make it before nightfall if the current is strong,” Quinn surmised, hoping to use the swells from the last waves of the storm to propel them towards the shore.

  “If we make it tae shore, will we be free?” Malcolm asked, raising a hand to his brow as he looked towards the land far in the distance.

  “Aye, we will. This has worked out better than we might have hoped,” Rowan said. Anna glanced at him and he looked away, setting his eyes on the shoreline. He slipped a protective arm around Anna’s waist and began kicking towards land.

  Anna’s heart sank because she knew that freedom was not an option for herself. Her next thought was about her safety. She felt Rowan’s arm strong about her waist as his powerful legs kicked them towards the shore. A feeling of dread settled in her stomach.

  What were these Scotsmen running from?

  Chapter Three

  The setting sun loomed low in the sky as Malcolm and Quinn reached the shore. Hues of orange and red stained the evening sky, taking the warmth of the sun beneath the far away horizon.

  Rowan helped Anna from the water and set her onto her feet.

  “Ye can lean against me if ye need tae,” he whispered against her wet hair.

  Anna’s knees wobbled from the exertion of the long swim to shore. She licked her lips experimentally, tasting residual salt that the ocean had left upon her skin. Her throat was dry and ached for fresh water. Anna threaded her arm through Rowan’s proffered elbow and reluctantly
let him guide her to the sanctuary of the beach. She was not used to accepting help from chivalrous strangers.

  Rowan’s exhausted muscles trembled as his waterlogged boots trudged through the sand. He forced his body to remain strong for a few more paces, willing himself not to let Anna fall.

  “We made it! We’re alive and we’re free!” Malcolm screamed at the top of his lungs as he rolled in the sand.

  Quinn crawled from the water and sat in the sand, brushing his shoulder length chestnut hair back from his face and resting his head wearily on his knees. Rowan and Anna walked slowly over to Quinn and sat down beside him in the sand.

  “Do you think that we are the only ones who survived?” Anna asked, her voice raspy and dry from the salt water. She rung out her wet hair and tied it in a knot at the nape of her neck, looking out over the ocean at the setting sun. A breeze rose up from the cool water, sending gooseflesh rippling over Anna’s wet skin.

  “Surely not,” replied Rowan as he squinted into the last light of the sun before it dropped below the horizon. He scanned the waves, looking for movement in the sea. “All good sailors ken how tae swim. Mayhap the current took them further down the beach.” Rowan glanced over at Anna. She sat rigid as a board staring blankly out at the ocean. Her feet were tucked demurely beneath the shredded fabric of her chemise.

  As if feeling his gaze burn over her skin, Anna looked at him, her hazel eyes bright beneath her thick black. She blushed and looked back at the ocean.

  “Were ye traveling with someone?” Rowan ventured cautiously, suddenly feeling insensitive for assuming that the lass had been traveling alone. Mayhap she had lost someone in the shipwreck and he had not found the common decency to ask until now.

  “No,” Anna whispered, eyes still fixed on the calm, rolling waves of the Atlantic.

  Rowan returned his gaze to the waves crashing against the beach, expecting Anna to elaborate on her situation. The air was humid in a way that he had never experienced, making him feel as though his tattered clothes would never dry. Anna’s eyes were fixed on the horizon. A look of longing had overtaken her pretty face. She chewed on her lower lip absentmindedly but remained silent.

  Rowan toyed with the coarse sand of the beach, making a small pile of it between his legs. He threaded his fingers through the sand and stole another glance at Anna. She was perplexing indeed. She was so small and fragile, but with such an air of confidence about her that Rowan knew there was more to Anna Stanton than what met the eye. His gaze flashed over her body, which was thin and lithe. He couldn’t help but notice how the thin fabric of her chemise clung to her full breasts and flat stomach.

  “Do ye have any notion of where we might be?” Quinn broke the silence as he looked over at his brother, who he caught in the act of blatantly appraising Anna. “I ken that we were supposed tae arrive in Williamsburg, but I think that the storm took us off course.”

  “I do not think this is Williamsburg,” replied Anna. “From what I have been told, Williamsburg is much colder than this. Look at these trees,” she said, eyes drifting upwards towards the unfamiliar palm trees.

  “I believe we’re further south,” added Rowan. “Perhaps this is not even the mainland. Could be an island, ken?”

  “Wherever we are, we need tae find shelter for the night. It’s getting dark,” said Quinn, ever the practical one of the three brothers. “Malcolm!” he shouted down the beach at his brother who was already exploring in the last light of the day.

  Malcolm trotted obediently back up the beach and joined his companions as they stood up, brushing the remnants of sand from their clothes. Anna was suddenly aware of just how little the thin linen of her shift left to the imagination. The ocean breeze had chilled her damp body to the bone and not only was her body covered with gooseflesh, her nipples stood in erect peaks from the chill. Anna crossed her arms defensively across her breasts and felt the flush of color stain her face.

  Seeing her anxiousness, Rowan rucked his damp shirt up over his head and tossed it at Anna. “There’s my penance for askin’ ye tae strip out of yer gown,” he said as he trudged towards the trees, leaving Anna standing alone in the twilight on the beach.

  ..ooOoo..

  “What’s a lass like yerself doing all alone on a ship tae the New World?” Malcolm asked, breaking the silence as full darkness shrouded the beach. The sounds of insects and creatures of the night thrummed in the forest behind him and Malcolm pulled his sodden shirt tighter about his body.

  “How do you know that I was traveling alone?” Anna asked, knowing that Malcolm had not been privy to her earlier confession.

  “I doona ken. If ye had been traveling with someone, ye would probably be upset that they hadna survived the shipwreck,” Malcolm said, toying with some sea grass to keep his fingers occupied.

  “I was traveling to Williamsburg,” Anna revealed, smiling nervously as she wrapped Rowan’s shirt more closely about herself and then crossed her arms over her chest. She had answered Malcolm’s question, but her eyes were focused upon Rowan, who sat with his back to the dense growth of trees. Anna dared not speak the truth aloud. She was coming to America to marry a man that she had never met.

  A chill was rising in the humid air and Anna wondered how Rowan sat across from her shirtless, seemingly unfazed by the cold. She noticed just how muscular his tan, work hardened body was. His trousers were slung low on his hips, accentuating his toned abdominal muscles. Rowan was no doubt a handsome man; his angular jaw was now dusted with a day’s growth of stubble, lending him a rugged look. His jaw length chestnut hair had curled slightly from the ocean and fell in loose masses about his shoulders.

  As Anna watched Rowan, she was intrigued by how his movements combined grace and controlled power. He sat reclined against the base of a tree, toying with a pile of sand that he had built next to his leg. His fingers were masculine and yet somehow graceful. Anna felt a dull ache growing inside of her. It was a feeling that she had never experienced before, as if a fire was kindling deep within her. In proper London society, she had never seen a man with his shirt off, not even her own father. Anna marveled at how Rowan’s muscles moved fluidly beneath his tanned skin and how comfortable he seemed with his nakedness. She wondered what it would feel like to touch him.

  “What brings ye tae Williamsburg?” Malcolm prodded, snapping Anna’s focus back to the conversation.

  Anna smiled shyly, hoping that Malcolm had not noticed her frank appraisal of his brother.

  “It is quite complicated,” Anna said bashfully. Being a practical young woman, the folly of her impending nuptials was not lost upon her. Having not even told her mother of the foolhardy plan to come to America and marry Lieutenant Jonathan Arbor, Anna was certainly not prepared to tell the Murray brothers about her betrothal. “I have family in Williamsburg,” Anna lied, shifting her gaze from Rowan back to Malcolm, her fingers playing in the sand in an effort to hide both her nervousness about the topic and her embarrassment at the feelings that watching Rowan had stirred within her.

  “Have ye any plans once ye reunite with yer family?” Malcolm asked, leaning back against a fallen tree.

  “I suppose that I wish for a fresh start,” Anna said hopefully. “I want to build a life here. Perhaps I shall marry and eventually start a family of my own.” Fear welled up inside of Anna and she quickly pushed the unwelcome feelings away. It was true that she had dreamed of marrying, but never had she imagined that the truth of her nuptials would be so bleak. She knew very little about Jonathan Arbor. When Meriwether Murdock had brokered her betrothal to Arbor, he had told her only that her betrothed was a wealthy lieutenant in the King’s army. Anna knew that Arbor was a few years her senior and that he resided in Williamsburg. But beyond that, she knew nothing of the man that she would soon marry.

  Anna chewed on her bottom lip. She brought her knees up to her chest and rested her chin atop them as she hugged her legs close to her body. Anna had tried not to think of Jonathan Arbor. As of yet, he did not see
m real. It was as if he was a figment of her imagination, a character in some alternate reality.

  All too soon, Jonathan Arbor would become real. And that fact terrified Anna. Was she truly ready to marry a man, to give herself bodily to a man that had purchased her like a brood mare?

  Pushing her troublesome thoughts aside, Anna glanced towards Malcolm. The boy’s eyelids were heavy as he looked up into the night sky. A full moon lit up the night sky, casting shadows of light over the empty beach. Anna watched quietly as sleep overtook the boy’s face. Malcolm’s eyes bobbed closed and his breathing slowed as he drifted off into peaceful slumber.

  “Anna?” Rowan whispered from where he sat reclined against the base of a palm tree.

  “Yes?” Anna responded, lifting her head from her knees and turning towards the sound of Rowan’s voice.

  “I have something that I’d like tae show ye,” Rowan said into the darkness. “Will ye come here a moment?”

  Without responding, Anna rose from her position next to Malcolm and walked over towards where Rowan sat. The light from the full moon lit her path, causing the sand to appear a very subtle shade of blue.

  Anna settled down on her knees next to Rowan. “Malcolm has lost his fight,” she whispered quietly, shrouding her voice so as not to wake Malcolm. “I do believe that this is the first time that I have heard him be quiet,” Anna snickered as she looked at Malcolm’s sleeping form. She had a soft spot for the youngest Murray already.

  “Aye,” Rowan smiled as he watched his little brother in the moonlight. “He’s a good lad. Mam always said that Malcolm was blessed with the gift of mindless chatter,” Rowan chuckled. “The lad has a good heart.”

  Turning his attention back to Anna, Rowan smiled lopsidedly and took her hand in his.

  Anna was startled by Rowan’s touch but did not move to retract her hand. Rowan’s hand was warm upon her skin, calloused from years of manual labor. His touch was gentle and made the cadence of Anna’s heartbeat increase. She had never held hands with a man.