The Accidental Highland Hero Read Online Free Page B

he couldn’t deal with her at the moment.
    Early this morn, she’d overheard Wynda speaking with the personal guard, poised to protect Eilis, when in truth he  served as a spy for her uncle to ensure she did as she was told. Agnes’s maid accompanied Eilis for the same purpose. To instruct her, to keep her in line, to monitor her every move.
    At sometime or another Eilis feared she must have offended God, although she did not know when. It had to be the reason her life was in such dire straits. Yet she wondered, mayhap Dunbarton would not be as bad as she dreaded.
    She shook her head and fought being dragged from the railing. Dunbarton was ancient and had buried two wives already, both who had died in childbirth and their bairns along with them. She would be next.
    She caught a glimpse of a wave rising like a mountain, growing higher and higher. Her mouth dropped open, and the cry she would have made, died on her lips. Cresting, the wall of seawater buried the ship as if it were dunking a small wooden toy.
    Crushing cold water, no air, total darkness, cries of alarm, the cracking and splitting of wood filled her with mute terror. Swept off her feet, she slid across the deck. Something struck her shoulder, her head, her legs, the sharp pains cutting through to the bone.
    Then silence.
    Eilis knew she’d died until men’s ragged shouts brought her to full consciousness. Clinging to bits of ship that floated up and down the massive waves, she held on tight. Her head pained her something fierce, and the chill from the water seeped into her bones. She was only vaguely aware she was no longer on the ship. Although in the dark she could not see any signs of it.
    Even more frighteningly, the men’s shouts died away. Rain splattered across the top of the sea, thunder grumbled, waves splashed into each other, and the wind cried in the darkness. But no sound of a human soul penetrated the black night, and sheer panic rose in her breast. ‘Twould be easy to let go and end the misery she was sure to face, but she couldn’t do it. Coward, she chided herself. No, not a coward. Somehow, she had to save her little brother.
    Left to shiver endlessly, she gritted her teeth to prevent them from clattering, the ship’s remnant keeping her afloat. Fervently, she listened for any human groan or cry, but there was none but the storm and the sea’s harsh melody.
    They had left her behind, she fathomed. When would they discover she was missing?  Too late, she suspected.
    The waves settled into a choppy rhythm, up, down, up, down, with no long lulls in between, making her head ache and her stomach roil with new upset.
    Near morn, the rain and wind died down to a gentle patter and whisper.
    Worrisome thoughts plagued her. Would her appearance anger the Dunbarton chief?  Aye. Would the sailors be able to salvage her wedding gown?  Her other gowns?
    She would not look like the MacBurness’s precious daughter but her half-drowned cousin. She lifted her head. The motion sent streaks of pain across her skull while she attempted to observe any signs of land. Still too dark to see anything but the cold, black water.
    How far out to sea was she?
    It didn’t matter that it was the middle of summer, except that the sun would rise early. The water was as frigid as a loch in winter. Watching the sky for the beginning of light, her eyelids grew heavy. Worse, she could no longer feel her fingers or toes, but better, she was not feeling so cold. In fact, she was feeling rather warm.
    And for the moment, she was free of Agnes’s nagging maid. But waves crashing on a beach quickly quashed her weary relief. The tide yanked her perilous perch into the rocks farther out, but she couldn’t avoid them, nor leave the safety of her floating home. Her energy spent, she clung to the ragged piece of wood with as much strength as she could manage, her arms aching.
    Men shouted in Gaelic from the direction of the beach, and she lifted her head to look. Thinking