Two weeks later.

Cailyn McDougall clutched the reins, ignoring the pain of her inner thighs from hours of riding. Her gaze remained transfixed straight ahead as her horse raced to the seaside village, a day's ride from her Highland home. Urgency pounded through her veins. The sooner she found the infamous sea captain, the better her hopes of deterring him from bringing war to the McDougall clan.

Four escorts rode close, beside and behind her. The four clansmen, who would gladly die for her, were also childhood friends she trusted implicitly.

On the outskirts of the village, she slowed down and spoke to her cousin, Dugan, who came up alongside. "We'll stable the horses at Uncle Kiel's."

It began to rain and Cailyn frowned at the damp bag of clothes she'd tied to the horse's saddle. She'd have to pay one of the maids at the inn to dry her garments for the next day.

Once they arrived at the inn, a boy ambled toward them with an expectant look on his face. "Master Kiel sent me to see about your horses," he told them, grabbing at the reins.

Cailyn dismounted and followed behind the lad. "Do you know where the captain of those ships is lodging?" She pointed to the large vessels off shore.

"Here at this inn, Miss," the boy replied, his eyes wide. "The Red Pirate arrived just last night."

Infamous for sailing the seas, selling arms and munitions while remaining neutral during the English-Scottish war, Jamie Westcott would be a challenge, but somehow she had to deter him from going in search of his sister. The last thing she wanted was more bloodshed because of what happened to her at the hands of the British man.

Cailyn handed the boy a coin and went back to the men. "Dugan, walk inside with me." She looked at the others. "Go about the village and find out what you can from his men. I’m sure they will be at the pubs asking their own questions. We must know what his plans are." She tugged at one of the men's plaid. "Do not wear clan colors while we are here. They already know a McDougall is involved in Victoria's taking."

Inside the Harbor Inn's pub, Jamie Westcott placed the mug of ale down on the table and leaned back. Sitting in the corner with his back to the wall, he had the perfect view of everything that transpired. The inn belonged to a McDougall, which was why he came to be there.

A serving girl walked over, with an exaggerated sway to her hips. He ignored her, did not have time for the familiar invitation. Jamie barely nodded in acknowledgment when she placed his plate of food before him. Moments later with lips pursed in disappointment, the girl left.

With dispassionate eyes, he focused on the people in the bar. His sister Victoria needed him. To find her, was his singular focus. He'd just arrived at McDougall lands, and already the largest obstacle he'd come across since becoming a privateer loomed over him. He was English.

Anxious to find Victoria, he'd made a huge mistake. The show of force with the two battle ships anchored just offshore made for wariness from the village people. And rightly so, his wildly exaggerated reputation did little to help. The villagers avoided eye contact and crossed the street when he or his men walked along the front of the local establishments. Holding any type of conversation was out of the question.

The McDougall clan was one of the largest in the Highlands. Trying to single out the man who attacked Turner would not be an easy feat. He'd learned that within the huge clan, there were three separate entities, which at times didn't get along with each other. But against an outside force, they'd join forces.

It would be difficult to find out which McDougalls attacked his sister's home, much less who killed Victoria's husband, Lord Turner.

No matter, he'd bring war to the entire clan if he had to, but he'd not leave without his sister.

The door opened and a man of impressive size entered. The sword strapped to his back and wariness in his gaze, told of battle experience. Behind him walked a smaller figure. Jamie didn't catch the gender at first but when the light caught the curves and delicate features, there was no mistaking it was a woman.

Dressed in men's breeches topped by a flowing blouse, the woman's wet, dark hair hung in waves down her back. Shorter curls framed her angelic face. She stopped and with narrowed bright blue eyes scanned the room before landing on him but for a moment. She made her way to the empty table just over from his, along the wall. The escort at her back lifted his hand in greeting to the husky Kiel, who hustled over to greet them.

Jamie did not have to strain to hear their conversation, as they did not make an effort to keep their voices down.

"Dugan," the innkeeper slapped at the man's chest. "Ave'nt seen the likes of you in a while, finding yerself in need of a wench?" the robust man laughed. He abruptly stopped and coughed and looked to the woman at the table. "I beg your pardon, Cailyn lass."

"Cailyn, the angel had a name which suited her”, thought Jamie

"Not a problem, I'm used to men's lack of manners," she replied with a tingle of laughter in her voice. "It's a good thing I love your cooking." The woman reached for the jolly man and cupped his jaw. "How fair you uncle?"

"Well, Lass, well," the man preened at her attention. He called over his shoulder to the serving girl. "Mary, choicest pieces of meat and fresh bread." He turned back to the duo who'd settled at the table. "Ye must stay, the weather is about to turn for the worse. I will have rooms prepared."

Jamie ate his food, which proved to be quite flavorful. He pondered at such a place where women could travel with only a male escort and remain the night at an inn without a handmaid. Surely the Scots gave their women much more liberties than the English.

Although he was English-born, his mother was Scottish. While maintaining the rules of the elite, Elsie Westcott managed the household with a strong hand. The fine-looking woman also managed his father quite well, although the old man would never admit it. She'd often tell them about the freedom she'd been afforded in Scotland.

Jamie's attention went back to the duo. Cailyn kept a steady conversation with the oversized man across the table from her. They seemed more like siblings than lovers by their mannerisms. When the male eyed a bar maid who walked by the woman didn't seem discomfited by it.

Jamie had gotten both names. If he could find out which McDougall clan their affiliations lay, then perhaps they could lead him to Victoria.

"Pardon," he got the woman's attention. "Are you from these parts?"

She nodded and looked to her table partner before replying. "Aye, just a day's ride away, why do you ask?"

"I find myself at a loss in finding land to purchase here, in Scotland. Would you know of where a half-born could find out about such things?"

Bright cobalt eyes met his before sliding to her companion again. She shrugged, an elegant gesture, and put a piece of bread down before speaking. "McDougall lands are not for sale. I wouldn't know about other clans."

When she didn't elaborate, he finally spoke again. "Would you know who I could speak to, then?”

This time the man spoke, his tone less inviting. "Why would an Englishman wish to buy land?"

"My mother is Scottish and brought to me the love of this country. I wish to settle here," he lied.

"Interesting." Cailyn pushed damp curls behind her shoulder, fingers sliding across the skin at her neck. The unaware, yet sensuous gesture brought him to lock eyes on the spot where they'd trailed. "I'd say you should go further south to the lowlands. Lowlanders are much more attuned to the ways of the English. Otherwise, you could find yourself in the middle of a clan clash or two up here."

"I see," he replied. "Is your clan in battle?"

The man scowled at him, eyes narrow with mistrust. "Not yet."

"Point taken,” replied Jamie

Jamie went back to his meal, not hurrying, in hopes of learning more from their continued conversation.

Unfortunately, they rose too soon from the table. The woman headed for the stairs, and the male moved to a table closer to the kitchen.

Jamie had not found out much in almost two days. His men had not faired any better. The Scots were a mistrustful people when it came to anyone not part of their clan. Made sense, the war so newly ended. Tomorrow he'd ride to the closest of McDougall lands, and begin his search openly.

He waved the barmaid over and paid for his food. Afterward Jamie made his way up the stairs to his room.

At the top of the stairway, Cailyn stood with a serving woman. She handed a bundle to the maid. "Please see about getting these dried out by morning." She looked up at Jamie, but did not acknowledge him. "Thank you, Eileen."

The maid started at his presence, her eyes darting between them. "Will you be all right, Miss?"

Cailyn's lips curved into a lazy smile, her eyes meeting his. "Of course I will. Good night, Eileen."

The maid scurried away. As Cailyn turned to leave, Jamie stopped her. "Are you sure of your safety, Miss? Most people fear me," he mocked.

She looked at him over her shoulder, straight in the eye. "Ah, yes, the infamous Red Pirate. I've heard you kill babies and throw them overboard to feed the sharks, afterwards pushing the mothers in, as well." The laughter in her voice caught him off guard, and he found himself at a loss for words.

A smile curved her lips. "Already losing at the battle of wits, Captain?"

"You shouldn't be alone with me, Miss," He warned, leaning closer with a menacing look. He expected her to back away. Instead, she laughed.

"I can take care of myself, Captain Westcott. Raised by warrior brothers who are well-known for their battle skills, no Highlander would dare lay a hand on me."

His eyes raked over her figure. "Not laying hands on you, I find it a pity," he murmured glad to see her color deepen. "I'm sure many have dreamt of doing such a thing."

Her blue eyes lifted to him. Daring him. "Would you?"

Intrigued, Jamie could not hold back a smile. "Only... if you allowed it."

"Hmm." She cocked her head to the side, as if trying to decide what to say next. "I think I would. Allow it." She closed the distance between them and placed her arms around his neck, then drew him down closer, her eyes on his the entire time. "Would you like to kiss me, Captain Westcott?"