A Pirate's Wife for Me Read Online Free PDF Page B

well-guarded."
    "How … glorious … for her." Cate laughed again, more quietly, and to herself, she said, "What a relief this is for me. Yes. A relief."
    "I'm glad that you are taking this so well." Sibeol didn't seem convinced Cate was taking it well at all.
    "Yes. I am. Taran's fiancée is what I should remember as we go forward with this mission. Isn't she?" Cate didn't wait for an answer. "Remembering her place in his life will strengthen me and keep me from having to put another bullet into your son."
    "That would be pleasant." Obviously, Sibeol had stayed behind to give Cate that piece of information. Now that she had done so, she rose and moved toward the door. Opening it, she turned, steely-eyed, to deliver another message. "The mission is all important. Our personal feelings and desires are nothing compared to taking Cenorina back from Maddox Davies, and returning it to the caring arms of its rulers. Let us all remember that, and proceed with that goal in mind." Sweeping from the room, she shut the door behind her.
    Cate rushed to turn the key in the lock. "Yes. Let us all remember that." She tried to concentrate on that. But her heart ached too much for such wisdom. Leaning her hot cheek against the rough wood, she said, "I only wish I could forget why Taran once meant so much to me."
     
    The Isle of Mull, Scotland, 1831
     
    Clutching her best glass marble, thirteen-year-old Caitlin knelt on the hard-packed dirt and lowered her cheek until it rested on the ground. She sighted along a straight line, right at Graeme MacQuarrie's blue-swirled marble, and with an expert flick of her fingers sent his spinning out of the circle. The lads gathered around gave a groan. Graeme fell backward, clutching his head in pitiful despair. Sitting up, Caitlin flung out her arms, and gave a shout. "Ha! I told you I would beat you, Graeme. I told you. Now give me that marble!"
    Her brother's warm, laughing voice intruded on the moment. "Such overweening conceit isn't pretty in a girl."
    She twisted around to see Kiernan, standing by the edge of the stable, with a slight youth slouching beside him, eyes on the ground, lips sulky. "The lads would behave the same toward me."
    "So they would." Kiernan moved forward, the youth straggling after him. "The more fools, they." He nodded at the boys, then with his hand on the strange youth's shoulder, he said, "I'd like you all to welcome Taran Tamson to Castle MacLean. He's come here to complete his education and learn how to be a warrior. Taran, this is our neighbor, Graeme MacQuarrie, his cousin, Will, our own cousin, Jimmy MacGillivray, the Buchanan twins, Morgan and Gunn, and Douglas Ross, another lad like yourself I'm pleased to foster." The boys stood up as he introduced them, nodded their heads, and scrutinized the young man.
    Taran stared back, examining them with a cool interest that seemed at odds with his shoddy demeanor. He was shorter than her, and so thin his chest was almost concave. His shirtsleeves were too short for his arms and his ankles shone beneath the hems of his trousers. Kiernan always said the way to judge how a lad would grow was to measure the size of his hands. Well, Kiernan topped six-foot-two, and Taran's hands were as huge and raw-boned as Kiernan's own.
    Kiernan smiled down at her. "And, Taran, this unpleasantly victorious girl with the dirt on her cheek is my sister, Caitlin."
    Taran scarcely flicked her a glance. "I'm pleased to meet all of you, and I look forward to furthering our acquaintance."
    Caitlin tilted her head and studied him. He spoke with a slight accent, one that wasn't quite Scottish and certainly not English. "You sound funny," she said.
    For the first time, he looked down at her.
    She almost fell backward from the shock. His broad, bony face was austere, unsmiling. His nose was thin and too long. His black hair was shorn, and his ears stuck out. But his bleak gray eyes were rimmed with the most beautiful fringe of black lashes, and the rage