Jaime opened her eyes and looked around sleepily as the sound of the men shouting above made Malcolm sit up in bed. He touched her cheek and pushed aside the covers.
“Wait for me,” he said. Donning his kilt and his shirt, the Highlander yanked on his boots, grabbed his sword, and reached the door just as Jaime pulled her chemise quickly over her head.
She knew it was only a short time that he was gone from the cabin, for she had barely gotten herself dressed, but to her it seemed like an eternity.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, as he knocked and pushed open the cabin door.
“They have a small fire on deck. Some cannon powder had sparked.” He picked up his tartan and draped it from one shoulder across his chest, and buckled on his sword. “I’m going on deck.”
“Is the ship in danger of burnin
