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

look after you?”
    “Is your treatment any better?”
    “Aye, some.”
    “Let me guess.” She looked at him doubtfully. “You’ll cut off my hands to spare me the pain before pouring boiling oil on them.”
    “Now, that’s barbaric.” He cringed, mocking her. Seeing her expression relax, the Highlander continued, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “Nay, I won’t use boiling oil. The oil may be needed for other...more important uses on the ship.”
    “I see.” Maria struggled to quell the sudden urge to laugh. The boyishness of his smile made a vast and surprising difference in the Scot’s fierce looks.
    “Since your oil is so valuable,” she continued, “Then I suppose you’ll just cut my hands off.”
    “Nay, that won’t do. Far too messy.”
    “And you expect me to trust you.” She blurted out. “After telling me what you’ll not do, but hiding what you intend to do!”
    “Aye. What else!” John took a step closer and stretched out his hand in invitation.
    “Such an answer won’t do. Not at all.” She remained where she stood. “I need to know more of what you’re planning. Who knows? Your surgeon’s remedy might be a blessing relative to what you have in mind.”
    “Trust me. It isn’t.” John smiled at last at her stubborn refusal. “I plan to apply a remedy to your hands,” he said gently. “And I promise, it won’t hurt...much.”
    “Then you must plan on knocking me unconscious, since I can’t imagine anyone touching my hand without causing me extreme agony.”
    John looked at her wide-eyed expression. “A moment ago, they were ‘mere scratches.’ Now we’re talking ‘agony’! Which is it, lass?”
    “Well, I...”
    “There are a number of folks on this ship that I’d like to knock unconscious.” He saw the confusion playing across her features. “But you aren’t among their number.”
    Maria waited a moment, looking as he gestured once again for her to respond to his outstretched hands. The giant was not going to give up. Truthfully, he’d exhibited more patience than she’d expected. Finally, she yielded with a sigh and laid her hand, palm up, in his.
    “Aye, that’s the spirit.” John turned and led her to the table. Pulling out a chair, he gestured to her to sit.
    Maria sat down apprehensively, her back straight as a longsword.
    The Highlander grabbed the lantern from the wall sconce and brought it back to the table. Then, after searching unsuccessfully for another lamp, John remembered the storage cabinets in the adjoining servant’s quarter, the one that the younger woman was now occupying. Striding wordlessly across the room, he opened the door and stepped into the darkness of the next cabin.
    Aside from the linens and other luxuries supplied for the return voyage and the future queen, the storage compartments built into the walls contained a variety of necessities, as well. Searching in the darkness of the small space, John let his fingers travel over the smooth wooden surface of the cabinet doors to where, he knew from memory, a number of wick lamps and candles would be found.
    As he lay one hand on the smooth wooden ledge beneath the cabinets, his fingers brushed against a metal object, causing it to slip off the edge before he had a chance to catch it. Whatever it was, the falling object made a clinking sound as it hit the plank decking at his feet.
    Cursing under his breath, John crouched, feeling around for it. His hands ran along a length of the polished floor until his head banged against a door. Backing up, he cursed again as the sleeve of his shirt caught on a cabinet latch.
    Grinning sardonically at himself in the darkness, he sat back on his heels. What a picture I must make, he thought. The Lord of the King’s Navy, crawling around like some bungling half-wit in the pitch black bedroom of a young woman I’ve just somehow managed to fish from the sea.
    Pushing himself to his feet, John pulled open the door into the corridor. Immediately,