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mouth. She reined in the Arabian and shielded her eyes against the setting sun,
searching for the ship s standard.
And there it flew, billowing against the fierce winds-- the red, white and blue
banner of the Sea Mistress.
* * * *
Lucian pulled the thick blanket around his shoulders and leaned back against
the wall. For over a week now he d languished in this damp and decaying prison
without so much as an explanation from Dreya Macgregor. What the devil had he
said or done to deserve such treatment?
I dared kiss a Scottish hellfire.
And had been promptly burned. Whether Dreya admitted it or not, at the time
she had bloody well enjoyed it. Perhaps therein lay the cause of his current
predicament.
He stared into the darkness, the mattress beneath him so thin and rotted the
feathers poked through. He expected this sort of treatment the very moment he
admitted he was Lucian Adams, so why had she delayed his punishment?
Because she s a bloody conniving woman, he muttered aloud. If I get my
hands on her again
The door at the top of the stairs unbolted and creaked open. A stream of light
infiltrated the dungeon.
Lucian got to his feet.
Edwina, ye ken Ah m nae allowed tae open his cell, declared a man s rough
voice.
Aye, cease yer belly achin . Ah ve heard it afore.
At the bottom of the stairs, the guard s attention shot to Lucian. Step back,
pirate.
He obeyed.
The man knelt. He raised the slot beside the door and slid a food tray through
the narrow opening. Ye see? He said to Edwina. This be so oor prisoner
doesnae huv th chance tae escape.
Ah m neither daft nor blind, lad, she snapped. Go oan wi ye noo. She
smiled at Lucian. Urr ye weel, Captain Adams?
Splendid, madam. He waited until the guard trudged back up the stairs and
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The Macgregor s Daughter
closed the door before adding, Am I to be given a reason for this treatment?
In due time, Ah expect. Tis guid yer sense o humor hasnae failed ye.
I have little else to keep me company.
She reached inside a pocket of her dress and produced a thin key.
Lucian grinned. Madam Edwina, you are a resourceful woman.
She chuckled. Some o th men folk oan this island believe Ah m auld an
feebleminded, sae Ah dinnae wish tae disappoint em. She unlocked the cell and
pulled open the door. Whit a fine deed ye done savin Bastian. Ah expect th lass
will nae forgit such bravery.
Nor does she reward it. Lucian picked up the tray and set it on the cot.
What do we have here?
Thir s beef stew, fresh baked breid, an sweet cakes wi a pot o fresh brewed
tea.
Merci, but at the moment, I ve not much of an appetite. Unless you care to
explain why your mistress imprisoned me.
Ah wish it wur that simple, lad, but ye ll come tae na harm. Ah swear it. Noo,
whit o yer eyes? Any pain?
No, this dungeon is quite suitable in that respect. In fact, it blocks all light,
and I ve no use for the blindfold. On the other hand, your lantern s glow distorts
my vision.
She turned down the wick. Yer sight will clear as yer eyes grow stronger. But
sit doon. Ah ve somethin fur ye.
I heard the warning from the tower. Has the Macgregor returned?
Na, twas th Sea Mistress. She tilted his head back. Close yer eyes.
The name sounds familiar. Who captains her?
Captain Derek Reed frae th colonies, but Ah expect ye v met afore.
Why do you say that?
Urr ye nae a French privateer?
I am, but...are you implying the Macgregor is involved with smuggling
weapons to the colonies? That would be
Treason. Aye. But th laird s business is his ain, an Ah ll nae stick mah nose
in whit doesnae concern me. She placed something metal across the bridge of his
nose and hooked wired ends around his ears.
Madam Edwina, am I wearing spectacles?
Aye, Captain Adams. Noo then. Open yer eyes.
Lucian obeyed. A sinking feeling crawled into the hollow of his gut. My vision
has worsened.
Na, tis merely a trick o th mind, Edwina assured him. She turned up the
lantern s wick. Th lens in yer spectacles wur replaced wi dark -colored gless.
Lucian slid them up and down his nose while he focused on the lantern. Oui,
I see the difference.
He readjusted the spectacles to a better fit before scrutinizing the woman
before him. Except for her round face, shadows hid most of her features. She d
coifed her white hair into a tidy bun at the nape of her neck, and dark, somber
clothing covered her small body.
Weel? she insisted. Will thay dae?
They certainly will, madam. That is, if I ever glimpse the light of day again.
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The Macgregor s Daughter
Ye ll be free afore long.
Lucian remained skeptical. You re not only an extraordinary healer, but an
exceptional inventor as well.
Na, Ah cannae accept praise fur this. Twas th blacksmith s youngest son
wha came tae me wi th idea some time ago. She rummaged through her
pockets. Born wi an affliction o th eyes, he saw weel enough by nicht, but th
licht o day caused him pain. Twas by mere chance he learned that by lookin
through tinted gless, his pain eased fair enough.
What led him to this discovery?
Edwina fished something from her pocket and placed it in the palm of his
hand. Drops fur yer eyes, she explained before continuing her story. Efter a
nicht o drinkin , th lad awoke in his da s stables wi th harsh light o th sun
burnin his eyes. He rolled o er an found a bottle o th Macgregor s finest lyin
neist tae him.
So his spectacles and mine, a faint grin tugged at the corner of Lucian s
mouth, both were fashioned from a whiskey bottle?
Aye, an Ah wid huv ne er believed it if Ah hud nae watched th lad s faither
craft em mah-sel.
Makes you feel rather special, doesn t it? asked a masculine voice from the
top of the stairs.
Lucian turned. A slender gentleman headed down the stairs.
And you must be an exceptional gent, the man added in a lazy drawl.
Otherwise Dreya never would ve given you my bedroom.
Lucian stood. This horrible place is your bedroom?
On occasion. The man strolled through the cell door. But that s not the
room I meant.
Lucian studied the uniform. You must be Captain Reed.
I am indeed. He turned to the healer. Hello, Edwina, my love. Have you
missed me?
Lik a sore tooth, lad, but tis guid ye r back. She patted Lucian s arm. Ah ll
lea th lantern fur ye.
Will you not need it to find your way back?
Nothin wrong wi mah eyes, she replied with a chuckle.
After Edwina left the dungeon, Reed inquired, What kind of spectacles are
those?
An ingenious invention. They were fashioned from a whiskey bottle.
Amazing, but your sight will eventually return, will it not?
So I ve been told. Forgive me, Captain Reed, but...have we met?
Met? Hell, Lucian, we ve drunk enough Scottish whiskey to sink a British
man-of-war. Dreya warned me of your condition, but I never expected your
memory would have so many holes in it.
Lucian sensed he d shared more with this man than just whiskey, but it would
be foolish to trust a friendship he didn t remember.
Captain Reed
Forget the formalities. Call me Derek.
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