Page 98 of The Sinner
He picked Sorcha up and rubbed her head with his knuckles. “Where’s your mother?”
Sorcha pointed in the direction of the beach.
“She must have lost track of time,” Alex said. “She does love her walks.”
The others were waiting to eat, and the men had work to do, so Alex sat down and signaled for the meal to begin. He missed having Glynis beside him at the table, but it was just as well. He was anxious to see how Seamus and Ùna were faring. As soon as he had seen them, he would find Glynis and explain the situation to her.
Poor Ùna. Alex hoped the lass was strong enough to recover from this horror. As he crossed the meadow to their cottage, he picked a few wildflowers for her. Most of the flowers were gone, but there were still some knapweed and devil’s bit blooming. When he reached the cottage and knocked, Ùna opened the door. She looked at the flowers he held out to her as if they were some strange gift from a fairy hill.
“Thank ye,” she finally said in a soft voice and took them.
Tears were streaming down her face. God help him, had the lass seen so little kindness in her young life that a handful of flowers could touch her so? Alex laid a hand on her shoulder and stepped inside.
“The cottage looks good,” he said. “Shame about the table and chairs. I’ll bring tools next time and fix them for ye.”
“’Tis no the first time they’ve been broken,” Seamus said.
“For now, the two of ye must act as if nothing unusual has happened,” he reminded them. “Seamus should come up to the castle as usual. Then, after a few days, ye can ask the other fishermen if they’ve seen your father’s boat. Do ye think ye can do that?”
“I can’t ask anyone about him,” Ùna said, shaking her head violently.
Seamus took his sister’s hand. “I’ll do the asking.”
Alex was starting to worry that the lass would give them away.
“I need to tell my wife the truth about what happened,” he said. “I can’t have secrets between us.”
“Don’t! Please!” Ùna said and backed away from him.
“Hush now, it’s all right,” Alex said, trying to calm her.
“I hate that ye know about it.” Her voice was shaking, and she was wringing her hands. “I can’t bear to have anyone else know. I can’t, I can’t!”
Alex could not risk having the lass fall apart—she might end up telling everyone about murdering her father, and then he’d have an even worse mess to clean up. And Glynis couldn’t lie to save her life. If he told her, the truth would be all over her face every time she looked at Seamus or his sister.
“All right, I won’t tell my wife just yet,” Alex said. “I’ll give ye a day to think on it, and then we’ll talk again.”
* * *
As Glynis paced the beach, she reminded herself that Alex had given her no cause to doubt him until now. His friendly, easy manner had deceived her at first, but beneath the charm and humor was a reliable man who took his responsibilities seriously. That was the reason his chieftain, who knew Alex as well as anyone, entrusted Dunfaileag Castle and the safety of their clansman on this island to him.
Of course, a man could be loyal to his chieftain and not to his wife.
Glynis pushed that thought aside. Alex had shown no signs he was tired of her yet—in bed or out of it. He would have a good explanation for where he was last night, and she’d be annoyed with herself for getting upset over nothing.
And getting upset was not good for her baby.
Having finally talked herself into seeing reason, Glynis left the beach. She started up the path to the castle. But when she stopped and turned to take in the view, she saw Alex. He was walking with his back to her, but with his fair hair, tall frame, and long, easy stride, he could not be mistaken for anyone else.
Glynis ran to catch up with him. As she came closer, she saw that Alex had gathered flowers for her. Ach, her warrior had a soft heart. Glynis called to him, but he did not hear her over the wind. She smiled to herself as she decided to suggest they be truly wicked and make love outdoors in the middle of the day. They had not done that once since their journey to Edinburgh.
Glynis put her hand up to shield her eyes as Alex approached a small cottage. All the fears that she had spent the morning pushing away now slammed into her like a crashing wave. She waited, every muscle tense, to see who would greet her husband at this lowly fisherman’s cottage.
When the door opened, Glynis recognized Ùna’s dark golden hair. Dread clawed at her belly like a sea monster. When Alex held the flowers out to Ùna, Glynis sank to her knees in the tall grass. She felt as if a jagged blade was piercing her chest as her husband rested his hand on Ùna’s shoulder, ducked under the low doorway, and shut the cottage door behind him.
Glynis was so light-headed that she dropped her head to her knees to keep from fainting. All the pieces fell into place. Alex’s reluctance to arrange the marriage for Peiter. Ùna’s daily visits to the castle. The lass did not avoid looking at other men because she was shy, but because she belonged to the warrior who was the keeper of Dunfaileag Castle.
Glynis covered her face with hands. The lass was so young!
