A wave hit the hull and a cold mist sprayed onto them.

"So, you regret it?"

"Nay. I don't ken how I feel about it. I only know 'tis something I cannot walk away from. 'Tis permanent."

"Like prison. I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen."

He would not liken it to prison. More, he was simply afraid he'd fail and not be very good at being a chief, earl or husband. Or that he wouldn't enjoy marriage.

"'Tis only a bit overwhelming at the moment is all. I'm sure 'twill pass. I am responsible for someone besides myself now. Not only a wife, but a whole clan. 'Tis something new to me." He pressed a fist against his aching stomach. "A wife, God's bones. What the devil will I do with a wife?"

"I wager you'll think of something." Rebbie grinned.

***

"My lady." A knock sounded at the cabin door. "I have food so you may break your fast."

Lying on the top berth, Angelique groaned, nausea roiling inside her so intensely she couldn't lift her head. With the swaying of the ship, everything spun around. She had already vomited several times and had nothing left in her stomach.

"Non. I do not want it," she called, hoping the crewman heard her through the door.

"My lady, you must be hungry."

"Non!" Damn you, go away.

The normal wood-against-wood creaking of the ship filled the silence. Thank the heavens he'd left. She drifted to sleep. What seemed only minutes later, something thundered against the door. She sat bolt upright, a pain shot through her head and her stomach rebelled at the sudden movement.

"My lady," a male voice called outside the door. "'Tis your husband. He's injured and bleedin' severely."

Cold prickles showered over her. "What? Lachlan?"

"Aye, he asks for you."

Mère de Dieu, protect him. She slid from the top berth, down in front of Camille.

"Qu'est que c'est?" she asked.

"Lachlan is injured." In her mind, Angelique only saw his smiling eyes. She missed his warm protectiveness. Holding to the table, then the chair, she made her way to the door.

She unlocked the portal and opened it. A brawny bald man waited outside. His gray eyes bore a hole through her and his expression was odd…leering for a moment, then blank. Had he never seen a woman before?

"Where is Lachlan?" she asked.

"In the galley. We were eating midday meal when a fight broke out and he was cut on the arm. He's lost a lot of blood."

"Sacrebleu. He's a free-bleeder. Take me to him."

She clasped the smelly man's elbow and allowed him to escort her from the stern and along the deck. The strong, chill wind pierced her clothing with icy needles. She wanted to run, but her skirts clung fast to her legs, hampering her movements. Shivering, she realized she had forgotten her cloak. Surely they would be below deck in a moment and away from the wind.

She had to see Lachlan. Why did she care? I do not know; I just do. He'd protected her and now she must do the same for him. "I hope he does not lose too much blood."

The man grunted and quickened his pace.

The ship tossed and she near lost her footing on the wet decking. Her stomach ached, a new bout of nausea rising.

No, go away. I cannot be sick now! She pressed a hand to her throat. The gag doubled her over and she could not stop it. Retching, she fell to her knees.

"Come!" The man jerked at her arm, dragging her up. "We got to hurry."

A pain shot through her shoulder. What the devil was he doing?

"Non." He yanked her into his arms and tossed her over his shoulder, panic clawing through her. "Mère de Dieu!" She screamed.

Running footsteps approached. "You, there! Unhand her!"

"Whoreson bastard!" someone else shouted. More running.

Upside down, she could see little. The blackguard's shoulder drove into her aching stomach. Someone else grabbed her upper body and a tug of war ensued. She kicked. The bald man released her and fled.

"Catch him!" Was that Lachlan's voice? It sounded too harsh. "Angelique?" Someone lifted her high into his arms. "What the devil happened?"

"Lachlan?" Head spinning, she looked into his eyes.

"Aye."

"Are you bleeding? How is your arm?"

"What? Nay, I'm not bleeding. Is that what he told you?"

"Oui. That you had lost a lot of blood. And you wished to see me. You are a free-bleeder."

"Och. I'm not injured." Lachlan turned with her and everything whirled around. She slammed her eyes shut against the illness. "Is he one of your crew, Captain?" Lachlan asked.

"No. Never seen him afore," a deep, rough voice said.

Yelling and curses sounded from several yards away. She opened her eyes a crack. Rebbie, Dirk and members of the crew fought the bald man and tried to restrain him.

"Who is he?" Angelique asked, shivering, trying to snuggle closer to Lachlan's body heat.

"I wager he's Kormad's man. How did he get on board?"

"I know not, my laird," the captain said.

The blackguard broke away from the other men and jumped overboard.

"God's teeth, he's getting away! Shoot him!" Lachlan yelled.

Rebbie and two other men fired pistols into the water.

"We're too far out for him to reach shore, even if he can swim," the captain said.

"I'm not taking any chances. Keep firing!" Lachlan told the men, then carried Angelique toward the captain's cabin. "What happened to the two guards I stationed by her door?" he called back.

The captain cursed and trotted away, shouting orders.

"I bet the bastard killed them or knocked them out. You must be half frozen, Angelique." Once inside the cabin, Lachlan closed the door.

She nodded, still appreciating the warmth of his skin.

"What happened to her?" Camille came forward.

"Some knave tried to throw her overboard. Kormad's man, no doubt."

"Sacreblue! Put her here." She motioned to the lower berth.

"What are you doing up, Camille?" Angelique asked. "How is your head?"

"I have pain but it improves."

"And how are you feeling?" Lachlan lay Angelique on the berth, covered her with a thick blanket, then knelt by her side.

"Terrible. So sick." She pressed a fist against her stomach, praying the nausea would diminish.

He smoothed her hair back and stroked the side of his thumb along her cheek, his gaze intense and concerned. "Did he hurt you, lass?"

"Only my shoulder a little. I shall be fine."

Frowning, he gently massaged her tender shoulder with strong, warm fingers. "That bastard. He got his just due. I'm going to see if he resurfaced." He kissed her forehead and stood. She closed her eyes and savored the lingering tingle from the kiss that did much to assuage her discomfort.

"When I leave, lock the door and don't open it for anyone save me, Rebbie or Dirk. More of his men could've slipped aboard."

Camille nodded, obeyed his orders and returned to the berth. "Pour l'amour de Dieu, Kormad is persistent is he not?"

"Oui," Angelique said. "The beast wanted to drown me, I'm sure of it. I fear Kormad will not give up until I am dead."

***

Angelique had never been so thankful in her life to set foot on solid ground in Perth. She had crossed le Manche twice before in her life and always became ill. Even more, she was thankful to be far away from that bald brute who'd tried to kill her. The men on deck had spotted him swimming for shore, but couldn't tell if he'd made it.