Free Scandal in Scotland by Karen Hawkins Page B

speechlessness.
    Never underestimate the power of a bossy woman.

          C HAPTER 7

    T he gangplank from the Agile Witch was organized mayhem. Men were lined on one side passing up full buckets of water, and empty buckets back down the other. Another line of seamen hurried off the ship carrying casks and crates. The rest of the crew stacked them away from the dock and the smoldering ship.
    William made his way up the gangplank and stepped onto the deck.
    MacDougal, who’d been barking orders left and right, his gaze moving ceaselessly over the ship, caught sight of him and hurried forward.
    “There ye be, Cap’n!” The first mate’s face was black and grimy, and he had holes burned into his once white shirt.
    “What happened?” William snapped.
    “I dinna know yet. I was on the foredeck settin’ the watch fer the night, and the next thing I knew, smoke was boilin’ from the hold.”
    William frowned. “The fire started below deck?”
    “Aye, in the storage hold, which was odd, fer there was no lantern aboot—nothin’ t’ spark a flame.” The first mate rubbed his forehead, leaving a new streak of black. “But tha’ is no’ all of it, Cap’n. Whilst we were fightin’ the fire in the hold, the deck went ablaze.”
    William shot his first mate a sharp look. “You’re certain the fire on deck wasn’t caused by the one in the hold?”
    “They was on opposite ends o’ the ship.”
    William balled his hands into fists. “Damn it.”
    “I said the same thing meself. One fire was enou’, but two?” The first mate’s gaze watched the scurrying crew. “In me forty years at sailin’, I’ve never seen such.”
    “Neither have I. What caused the explosion?”
    MacDougal’s sooty white eyebrows snapped together. “Gunpowder, Cap’n. Two barrels hidden behind the main rail head. ’Twas a wonder no one was injured by the blast.”
    “Bloody hell, we’ve been sabotaged.”
    “Aye, Cap’n. Fer ye know I’d never allow gunpowder stored on deck, especially whilst we was at dock.”
    “I know you did all you could, MacDougal.” William glanced around at the crew. “Is everyone accounted for?”
    “Aye. Every last one.”
    “Injuries?”
    “A few burns here and there, but no’ so bad that a good pint won’t set things to rights. And Jamie MacTosh broke his ankle jumpin’ out o’ the way o’ a flamin’ barrel when the kegs exploded. ’Tis a miracle, but no one else was seriously injured.”
    William scowled. “One is too many. Damn it, I wish I knew why someone set this fire.”
    MacDougal nodded to where some men surrounded the main mast. “I asked the bos’n t’ drop the mizzenmast t’ keep it from fallin’ whilst we’re working on deck. ’Twas torched well an’ good, and could go down at any minute.”
    All around them, madness boiled. The smoldering sails had been tossed into the ocean, where they sizzled upon the waves. Water soaked the entire ship, making the wood wet and slick. Part of the mizzen deck was missing, broken timbers smoldering in place, while above, the blackened main mast stood like a grim warning.
    Despite the severity of the situation, the fire was slowly being brought under control. There was a general cry of warning as, with a loud crack and a great shower of flames and sparks, the damaged mizzenmast was felled into the ocean, the flames instantly replaced with hissing smoke and steam.
    So much damage and all from a small fire and a few barrels of gunpowder. Why would someone do such a thing?
    He frowned. Whatever reason his invisible enemy had, he or she was deadly serious in their intent. He glanced around the deck, his gaze resting on the various places yet more gun powder might be hidden. There were several places, too many to safely search in a short period of time.
    William made an instant decision. “MacDougal, get the men off the ship.”
    “But, Cap’n, the fire could flame back to life and—”
    “It’s too dangerous. If there was