The Beauty of the Mist by May McGoldrick Read Free Book Online

snoring.
    “Your name?”
    “Maria,” she whispered.
    “Maria...” He waited.
    She paused. “Maria. My family name is of no importance to you.”
    In spite of the note of defiance in her answer, John could read the hesitation and fear in her visage and in her stance. He had to put her mind at ease. No doubt she thought he would try to ransom her back to her family. That was not an uncommon practice with shipwrecked survivors. But that was not his intention.
    “Well...Maria. I assume you must be curious about this ship and our destination.”
    She nodded slowly as she considered her best course of action. It definitely would not do to let him know what she and Isabel already had surmised. She raised her eyes expectantly to his face.
    “You are on the Scottish ship, the Great Michael , heading for Antwerp. As soon as this fog lifts, we are only perhaps three days from port, depending on the wind. Once we arrive, you should have no trouble finding passage on another ship...to wherever you were originally going. Unless, of course, your original destination was Antwerp.” He paused deliberately, waiting for her reaction. “I want you to know you are safe on this boat, lass. You should harbor no fears concerning any treatment you’ll receive from me or from any of my men.”
    “Thank you.” She turned her gaze back to him, nodding in acknowledgment.
    “Now, if you’d allow me, I would like to see to your hands.”
    Maria instinctively hid them in the folds of her skirt, her face reddening. “But they are fine.”
    “They are not.” He came closer. “The dressing on them is already soaked with blood. If they are not tended to right now, the wounds will likely become inflamed. You could end up being in much graver danger than your sleeping companion.”
    “There’s no need, I tell you,” she protested. “I can change the dressing.”
    “Nay, lass, you can’t. But that’s not the only thing that needs to be done.” Seeing her retreat, he stopped. “Of course, if you don’t trust me, I could ask my surgeon to come back and see to them. He has a tried and true remedy that he uses on the sailors whenever they encounter such injuries. And it is quite effective. I’m surprised he didn’t use it on your companion.”
    “I would like that, if you don’t mind,” Maria responded. Having the old surgeon look at her hands was the answer. After all, he’d done some good for Isabel. And honestly, though she would do her best to ignore the pain, the throbbing seemed to be getting worse. As tired as she was after the day long ordeal, somehow she couldn’t imagine getting much sleep with such discomfort. “Perhaps, if it isn’t too late to ask him—”
    “Nay, that suits me, as well,” John lied. “But he cannot tend you here. Perhaps we could take you below to the galley. There is far less chance there of you waking up your friend with your screaming.”
    “Screaming!”
    John kept a straight face as he nodded in response. Her eyes were wide, her complexion paler than before.
    “What does he use?” she asked at last. “Your surgeon, I mean.”
    “To be truthful, lass, you’d be better off not knowing,” he said gravely. He took a half step toward the door. “I’ll just call and let him get started.”
    “Wait!” she said, a note of command in her tone.
    John turned and looked at her expectantly.
    Her voice was softer when she spoke. “What is it that he’ll do?”
    The Highlander hesitated...for effect. “He’ll seal the wound with boiling oil.”
    Maria shuddered in disgust and backed up. “That is barbaric.”
    “Aye. But it works. In fact,” he said, glancing over at Isabel, “It has been the standard treatment for gun wounds for…oh, thirty years. But perhaps he didn’t want to listen to your companion’s screams.”
    She shook her head in disgust. “Never. I won’t let him touch me.”
    John watched as she pressed her back solidly against the wall. “Then you’ll allow me to