20 A BED OF NAILS
ALEC’S CREW WAS waiting for him on the shore. And as he approached, he marked the scowls on their faces. Behind them, The Reiver was a phantom shape in the mist. The sun was burning the fog off though; it wouldn’t be long before the sky was clear.
No, his men weren’t happy, and he didn’t blame them.
Right now, he wanted nothing more than to return to his ship, raise the anchor, and set sail.
But he wouldn’t be leaving. He’d made a promise—not only to the new laird of Moy, but to the Maclean clan-chief as well. He wouldn’t go back on it.
Nonetheless, after that encounter in the armory, things would be awkward between him and Liza now.
Had he taken leave of his wits? What had possessed him to approach her like that, to rub himself up against her like an animal? His groin still ached, and his rod was as hard as wood in his braies. Walking had chafed him, yet he’d clenched his jaw and willed his erection to subside.
Heat washed over him as he recalled the things he’d said to her—things he hadn’t even admitted to himself. That he’d been pleased she defended him, and that he’d been jealous when she touched Loch.
Understandably, she hadn’t responded well, and humiliation now burned like a lump of peat in his gut.
“Lads,” he greeted his crew.
Grunts and glowers answered him.
Stopping before the group of hard men dressed in salt-stained braies, lèines, and worn leather vests, he surveyed them. A pressure rose under his breastbone then. He couldn’t believe he was abandoning them. “I’m sorry to let ye down,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.
Cory frowned. “So, ye haven’t changed yer mind then?”
Alec shook his head.
Next to him, Gunn cracked his scarred knuckles. “Ye’ll regret this.”
I already do.
“ The Reiver is yers, Cory,” he said, focusing on his first mate once more. “May she bear ye as fast and safely as she has me all these years.” Christ’s blood, the pressure in his chest had turned to an ache now. Trying to ignore it, he let his gaze travel over the faces of the rest of the crew. “Yesterday, I asked if any of ye would remain at Moy with me … to take up a new role as a warrior in my Guard.” He paused then, raising an eyebrow. “Do I have any takers?”
Silence followed.
A stone settled on Alec’s chest, even as he forced a smile. “I thought as much,” he said, careful to keep his voice emotionless. “Ye are all sea dogs through and through … I’d expect no less from ye.”
“Ye used to be just like us,” Cory replied, stroking his wispy beard as he eyed him. “It’s her , isn’t it?”
Alec stilled.
“Ye don’t even know if Elizabetta Maclean will remain laird here.” Cory shook his head, huffing a deep sigh. “She’s bewitched ye.”
“Ye shouldn’t have made that deal with the woman,” Gunn said then, scowling. “The coin would have been enough.”
“Aye, ye shouldn’t have stuck yer prick in her,” Egan growled from behind Gunn, his round face florid with anger. “Ye haven’t been yerself ever since.”
“Careful,” Alec murmured, his voice lowering in warning. “Mind yer tongue, Egan.”
The pirate glared back yet heeded him.
Meanwhile, despite the mild morning, a chill enveloped Alec, seeping deep into his bones. He’d played a high-stakes game, believing he was in control of the outcome, but he wasn’t. Not any longer.
It was time to be honest with them.
“It was all mummery, lads,” he said after a heavy pause. “As soon as I was alone with Liza, I assured her I wouldn’t touch her.” They stared back at him, their faces stiffening with surprise as Alec added firmly. “I still draw the line at rape … and I always will.”
Egan snorted. “But ye plowed the woman … we all heard!” This comment brought nods and mutters from some of the other crewmates.
Alec’s gaze narrowed. “Whatever happened between Lady Maclean and me … it’s our business … not yers.”
Glowers followed this comment, yet none of them argued with him.
“Why did ye lie to us?” Gunn asked roughly. Next to him, Cory remained silent, his gaze shuttered.
“It matters not,” Alec replied. Gunn wasn’t the brightest of men, although judging from the glint in the eyes of the other crewmates, most of them had guessed the reason. They’d fill him in later. And of course, Cory had always known. Alec wouldn’t betray him though.
A brittle silence fell then. Alec let it lie. He had nothing else to say.
Eventually, Gunn growled a curse, spun on his heel, and lumbered down to one of the two boats waiting on the tideline.
The others departed moments later, although not without muttered oaths and dark looks. Alec watched them cramming themselves into the boats. They then rowed out to the cog, the splash of oars carrying through the still morning.
He lingered on the pebbly beach. He should really return to the castle, for he had more men to recruit and green warriors to train. However, his feet wouldn’t move.
The pirates were climbing up the cog’s rigging now and preparing for departure.
Christ’s bones, he longed to go with them. He was a fool to think he could live any other life. His soul was only ever at peace at sea, yet he’d just turned his back on it.
Out of a misguided protective streak, restlessness, and a desire to make his life count for something.
“Well, that’s it,” he murmured. “Ye have made yer bed, now ye’ll just have to lie in it.” He grimaced then. Pity it was a bed of nails.
“When is Da coming home?”
Craeg’s question made Liza freeze. She’d been about to take a spoonful of mutton stew, yet her appetite now deserted her.
Her son was watching her from across the table, worry shadowing his dark eyes.
Aye, he was young, too wee to fully understand death, but he knew something unpleasant had befallen his father.
They sat in the laird’s solar having supper together. On this, her first evening of officially being the laird of Moy—since the clan-chief had given her his temporary blessing—Liza had wanted to enjoy a meal alone with her son. She was still shaken from her encounter with Rankin in the armory and just wanted to end the day peacefully and retire early.
But her son, as young as he was, wanted an answer.
She drew in a deep breath. Initially, she’d told him that there had been a fight, and his Da had gone away afterward. But under Craeg’s disarming gaze, she couldn’t lie to him again.
“He won’t be,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“Because” —Liza swallowed hard— “he’s dead.”
Craeg stiffened, confusion clouding his face. “Has he gone to live with the angels now?”
Liza nodded. More like in the fiery pits of hell. “He’s buried in Lochbuie kirkyard … I shall take ye to see his grave tomorrow,” she replied gently. Hades, she wasn’t any good at this—but there was no way to say such things easily.
Craeg’s eyes filled with tears, and Liza’s heart lurched. Rising from her seat, she circled the table and lowered herself into a crouch next to him. “I’m so sorry, love.”
Lord forgive her, she wasn’t, but for him, she’d pretend. His father had shown his son little softness or warmth, although Craeg was too young to resent him for it. Maybe he would one day. For now, though, his love for his father was unconditional. His heart was still pure, still untainted by disappointment and bitterness.
Unlike hers.
Aye, she’d started off hopeful, her head full of fanciful ideas, but Leod had quickly crushed her dreams underfoot. He’d made it clear early on that their union was one of convenience. He needed an heir, and she’d provide one.
She enfolded Craeg in her arms and let him weep against her shoulder. And when his sobbing had passed, and he lifted his tear-stained face to hers, her heart nearly broke. When she’d been filled with hate and vengeful fury toward her husband, she never considered what killing him might do to their son.
She’d told herself he’d be both happier and safer without Leod, and he was.
However, at that moment, she despised herself for what she’d done. And one day, when Craeg learned the truth, maybe he’d hate her too.
Vengeance came at a price, it seemed.
Her son’s gaze searched her face, looking for answers he was too young to hear.
Her own eyes filled with tears then, not for Leod—she’d never weep over the cruel bastard—but for Craeg, and for herself. For broken dreams, and the happiness that had always eluded her.