Kennan grasped her shoulders and held her firm. “Can you keep out of danger?”

“Och nay! I just found ye.” She took a cutlass from the ground. “I’m not leaving your side for a single moment.”

She grabbed his arm and tugged. Bloody hell, if he left her alone, she’d most likely end up at the wrong end of a pirate’s dagger.

“Come, men,” Kennan shouted, taking Divana’s hand, running for the shore. “Charge your muskets!”

The lass pointed her sword. “They’re heading for the carrack.”

A handful of his men barreled ahead, muskets in hand.

As they neared, Kennan pulled Divana behind him to keep her from being hurt. “Shoot to kill, men!”

The first man to reach the shore kneeled and took aim.

Crack!

Claude Dubois clutched his heart and crashed into the water.

The oarsmen quickened their rowing as two more men took aim.

“I call quarter!” bellowed Captain Finnes, throwing up his hands.

Kennan pointed to the skiff. “Bind and gag them all.” He turned full circle. “Where is Vane?”

Runner came out of a hut, leading a woman at knifepoint. Bless the dog, Bannock was growling at her heels. “He’s gone, sir. This woman said he ran off with two of his men.”

“Yellow blackguards, the lot of ’em,” cackled the wench. “Cap’n always makes everyone do the work whilst he sits back and enjoys the spoils.”

The Cameron men led Finnes and his crew onto the beach.

“Hold them here.” Kennan took Divana to the skiff. Damn it all, now that he’d found her, he wasn’t about to let her out of his sight for a second. “’Tis time to board that carrack and unload her cargo. Mr. MacNeil, come with us.”

By the time they boarded the slaver, Lachie Mor had already moved the Lady Heather alongside her and had what was left of her crew under arrest. No surprises, they were a downtrodden lot, most likely men who’d come from the jails and had accepted a pittance for pay.

“Are ye aiming to hang Cap’n Finnes?” asked one.

Kennan ignored him. He headed straight for the hold and threw back the hatches.

“Beg your pardon, sir,” said one of the crew. “The ’old’s empty.”

Thank heavens for small mercies. Though he would have freed any captives, it was a blessing to have none aboard.

Still, he eyed the man. “Then why is she sitting so low in the water?”

The man didn’t answer.

There was treasure hidden below decks for certain. “Mr. MacNeil, select your crew and sail this heap of worthless timber to Scotland.”

“Me, sir?”

“Aye, you. If you’re willing.”

“Absolutely, sir. Straightaway.”