The Sinner

by Margaret Mallory

  “There are hundreds of merchants in our grand city.” Henry got to his feet and stretched his stubby arms. “We’re bound to find one to your liking.”

  “We are delighted to have ye visit us,” her aunt said after Henry left. “But what is your plan, child, if ye don’t intend to marry?”

  Glynis had intended to be the spinster relative who grew old in the attic.

  “Surely ye didn’t come here expecting to live with us forever?” her aunt asked, pinching her brows together.

  Glynis sat up straight. In the Highlands, hospitality was a sacred duty. It was unthinkable to toss out any guest, let alone one who was also a close relation. One suffered with them as long as one had to.

  “I apologize,” Glynis said, feeling her face go hot. “I did not realize I would be imposing.”

  “All we want is for ye to be happy, but for that, a woman needs a husband,” her aunt said, giving her a sweet smile. “And the wealthier he is, the happier you’ll be.”

  “Are ye expecting this wealthy husband to help support Father Thomas’s ambitions?” Glynis asked.

  “That would be an added blessing, of course.” Her aunt patted her hand. “We don’t want to go to the moneylenders again.”

  * * *

  The bright sun hurt Claire’s eyes, but it felt good on her face. She could not remember the last time she had been outside. She was high above the people on the street, sitting on the shoulders of the man with the laughing eyes.

  S-o-r-ch-a. She practiced the name the man had given her in her head. Grandmère had only called her Claire when she was angry—her real name was ma chère. But perhaps she was wrong. When Grandmère first gave her the doll, she had called Marie by different names until she had found the right one.

  The man spoke to her in words that were familiar, and sometimes she tried to understand what he was saying. But she had grown accustomed to listening for other things in voices. She knew from the rise in the old woman’s voice when she was going to slap her.

  But the man’s big, deep voice made her happy.

  * * *

  Alex carried the child on his shoulders to keep people from stepping on the wee thing.

  “Ye see that water in the distance?” he asked, turning around and pointing. “That’s the Firth, where the boat ye came on sailed into Edinburgh. Did ye like sailing?”

  When he looked up her, she nodded. Since the child needed to learn Gaelic, he said everything to her first in French and then in Gaelic.

  “We are going to say good-bye to a friend of mine before we leave,” he said, starting up the hill again. “It won’t take long.”

  As anxious as he was to leave the city, he needed to see that Glynis was happily settled with her aunt. At least that was what he was telling himself.

  When they reached the house, he set Sorcha on her feet. It seemed much longer than a day since he had stood before this red door with Glynis. At his knock, the same maid as yesterday answered it.

  “I’ve come to speak to Mistress Glyn—”

  He stopped when he saw Glynis descending the stair, looking as fresh as a spring breeze in a pale green gown. The only sign of surprise she showed at seeing him with a wee girl holding his hand was a slight widening of her eyes.

  “Glynis, this is my daughter.”

  Alex waited for her to call him a philanderer, a sinner, or worse.

  “I can see that she is,” Glynis said with a light in her eyes. She leaned down with a warm smile and touched Sorcha’s shoulder. “What’s your name, child?”

  “She doesn’t speak,” he said.

  “She has no Gaelic?” Glynis asked, looking up at him.

  “Her mother was French, so she has no Gaelic,” he said. “But what I meant is that she has not yet said a word of any kind.”

  “Where is her mother?” Glynis asked in a soft voice.

  “On her way back to France.”

  Glynis met his gaze, and he was grateful she asked for no further explanation.

  “I thought perhaps your family here might know of a good woman I could hire to look after my daughter on the journey home,” he said. “I haven’t the slightest notion how to take care of a bairn—especially a lass.”

  “I could do it,” Glynis said in a rush.

  Alex stared at her, wondering if he had heard her correctly.

  “I have three younger sisters, so I know how,” she said, her voice unnaturally high. “And ye wouldn’t have to pay me.”

  It was one shock too many before breakfast. “What are ye saying? Have pity on a hungry man and speak plainly.”

  “I feel foolish after all the trouble I put ye to bringing me all the way here to Edinburgh,” she said.

  “I enjoyed it quite thoroughly,” he said, causing her to blush. “But ye just arrived. Why would ye be wanting to go back so soon?”

  “I didn’t know what it would be like here, with all the people and the noise and so far from the sea,” she said, worrying the skirt of her gown in her hands. “And my mother’s family is dead set on wedding me to a merchant.”

  “To a merchant? Are they mad?”

  “Nay, but they are short of money.” Glynis gripped his arm and looked up at him in a most appealing way. “I’d rather be unhappy at home than unhappy here. Please, Alex, don’t leave me in this city.”

  “Get your things,” he said.

  “Thank ye.” Glynis threw her arms around his neck. Too soon, she released him.

  “Best not tell your relatives,” he said, catching her arm before she could fly up the stairs. “We don’t want an argument.”

  He and Glynis both turned to look at the maid, who was still standing behind Glynis.

  “I’ll tell ye the same as I told your mother,” the woman said. “You’ll find no happiness in this house, so go with your handsome Highlander as quick as ye can.”

  “Bless ye, Bessie,” Glynis said, picking up her skirts and heading toward the stairs.

  “But take me with ye, mistress,” the maid said.

  The two women turned pleading eyes on Alex.

  “Can Bessie come? Please?” Glynis asked. “It won’t be proper if I don’t have a maid with me when I arrive home. We can tell my father that she traveled with us both going and coming.”

  “Aye.” God help him, he’d be traveling with three females now. He did not point out that a serving woman was what he’d asked for in the first place.

  As Alex watched the two women disappear up the stairs, he felt an unfamiliar tug on his hand and looked down. By the saints, he had forgotten his wee daughter already. What kind of a father was he going to make?

  Sorcha gave his hand another tug and pointed at the stairs, as if asking for an explanation.

  “Mistress Glynis is coming with us,” he said. “She’ll take care of ye.”

  His daughter gave him the faintest of smiles—her first—and it made his heart go all soft like butter on a hot day.

  “So ye like Mistress Glynis?” he asked her.

  Sorcha put her thumb in her mouth and gave him a solemn nod.

  Alex sighed. “I do as well.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Alex was in the stable behind the tavern getting the horses when he heard running footsteps behind him. But it was only the tavern keeper’s daughter, so he put away his dirk. She was a stout lass of seventeen or so, and it took her a moment to get her breath.

  “Were ye able to find a clean gown for the wee lass with that coin I gave ye?” he asked.

  Alex was relieved that Glynis had insisted on giving the child a bath at the tavern because he never would have attempted it himself. Sorcha was so filthy, however, that he had planned to dunk her in the first loch they came to.

  “I found a gown, but that’s not what I’ve come to tell ye,” the young woman said between gasps. “There are royal guards inside asking for ye. I told them we hadn’t seen ye since yesterday, but they won’t leave, and they’re watching the door.”

  Damn, they’d come early.
The regent was anxious to lock him away again.

  “Can ye bring my friends out the back without the guards seeing ye?” he asked. When the young woman gave him an earnest nod, he took her by the shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Thank ye. This is kind of ye.”

  The lass blushed almost purple and hurried back inside.

  A short time later, Alex and his three female charges rode out the back with the guards none the wiser.

  “See how well Sorcha sits on a horse,” Alex said, as he held his daughter in front of him on Rosebud. “She must get that from me—’tis in the blood, ye know.”

  Glynis gave him an indulgent smile. She was looking as pretty as could be on Buttercup.

  “Relax, Bessie,” Alex told the maid because she was sitting as stiff as poker behind Glynis and holding her in a death grip.

  “Ye call this enormous beast with the devil eyes Buttercup?” Bessie asked. “It tried to bite me!”

  “Ach, ye are upsetting her.” He reached over and patted Buttercup.

  Glynis covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

  “Those are D’Arcy’s men,” Alex said, pointing at the group gathered in front of the palace gate. He wished they were meeting anywhere but here, but he didn’t think the regent’s men would try to take him in front of D’Arcy.

  D’Arcy spotted him and rode toward them, his white scarf blowing in the breeze.

  “I feared you would not be joining us.” D’Arcy flashed a white-toothed smile at Glynis and Sorcha. “Are these lovely ladies here to see us off?”

  “They are traveling with me,” Alex said.

  “What a delightful surprise,” D’Arcy said, his gaze lingering on Glynis.

  Alex turned to Glynis. “I apologize for speaking in French, but I don’t know if my friend here speaks anything else.”

  “Is that Gaelic you are speaking to this lovely lady?” D’Arcy said. “I can’t speak Gaelic, but I know a bit of Scots.”

  “She doesn’t,” Alex lied. “Shame, but I fear ye won’t be able to speak to her at all.”

  “With women, it is possible to speak with only the eyes,” D’Arcy said, his gaze never leaving her face.

  Ach, Frenchmen.

  “What did he say?” Glynis asked.

  “He wants to know where the privy is,” Alex said. “He needs to take a piss before we leave.”

  Glynis’s eyebrows shot up, and she flushed a becoming shade of pink.

  “What is the lady’s name?” D’Arcy asked.

  “Glynis MacNeil.” Alex begrudged him the information. But since they would be traveling together all the way to the Campbell stronghold of Inveraray, he could not very well keep her name a secret.

  “Is she yours?” D’arcy asked.

  “Nay, she’s no mine.” Then, for no good reason, he added, “Not precisely.”

  Why was he doing this? There could be no better man for Glynis. Lord Antoine d’Arcy was a champion knight who held important titles and lands in France and was closely connected to Scotland’s new regent. In addition, he had the personal virtues of being brave, honest, and conscientious. It was those qualities—rather than that ridiculous white scarf—that had earned D’Arcy the nickname the White Knight.

  In fact, D’Arcy was so virtuous as to be a trifle dull. And he was not a Highlander, but the man could not help his birth.

  “What has he been doing in Scotland?” Glynis asked.

  Alex translated her question and groaned under his breath when he heard D’Arcy’s response.

  “D’Arcy designed the new artillery and blockhouse at Dunbar Castle, to secure it in preparation for Albany’s return.” Alex cleared his throat. “And he designed the new artillery works here at Edinburgh Castle as well.”

  Ach, being rich and titled was not enough? Must the man be brilliant as well?

  “My, that is impressive,” Glynis said, nodding at D’Arcy.

  “I suspect he also walks on water.” Alex found his friend’s list of accomplishments rather tedious.

  “Your current lady is quite unlike the ones you had in France,” D’Arcy said, drawing Alex’s attention again. “She has a subtle beauty that is far more intriguing.”

  “She is not my ‘current lady,’” Alex said between his teeth. He did not want D’Arcy thinking Glynis was that sort.

  D’Arcy took his eyes off Glynis long enough to raise his eyebrows at Alex. “Then she is available, no?”

  “Not in the way that ye are suggesting,” Alex said. “Shouldn’t ye be gathering your men? ’Tis no getting any earlier.”

  “I have an extra mule the maid can ride,” D’Arcy said. “The lady will be more comfortable riding alone.”

  When D’Arcy turned his horse to rejoin his men, Alex looked down to find that Sorcha had her face pressed against him. He could have kicked himself for letting his irritation with D’Arcy show. The child was so sensitive to his moods that he would have to be more careful.

  “Nothing to worry about, little one,” he said, patting her soft hair. “No one here will harm ye.”

  “’Tis fortunate we could join Lord d’Arcy’s group,” Glynis said, as they started off.

  “Hmmph.” Alex would have preferred to travel separately, but traveling with D’Arcy’s men would be safer. With three females in his care, Alex had no choice.

  As they rode out of the city, Alex tried desperately to think of what he would do with his daughter once they reached Skye. He could give her to his mother to raise—but he feared his parents would fight as much over a grandchild as they had over a son.

  For a mile or two, he considered leaving Sorcha with his cousin Ian and his wife, as Sabine had suggested. But those twins were going to be terrors. Having been one himself, Alex could recognize the trait. Nay, that would not do at all.

  He looked down at Sorcha, who had fallen asleep against him, and sighed. The deeper truth was that he did not want to give up his daughter. He never would have predicted that he would feel this way, but he did not question it, either. The problem was that he could not raise her alone—a girl needed a mother.

  Alex tried mightily, but there was no avoiding the obvious conclusion. To keep his daughter close, he would have to shackle himself to a wife. He had been fooling himself, in any case, to believe he could escape matrimony forever. Neither his parents nor Connor would give him any peace until he stepped off that cliff.

  He did not want a wife. But, like it or not, he had a sudden need for one.

  The image of Glynis standing in front of rearing horses with a dirk in one hand and a bloody stick in the other came into his mind. She would make a fiercely protective mother. After Sabine’s indifference, that was precisely the kind of mother his daughter needed and deserved.

  Múineann gá seift. Need teaches a plan. He could solve all his problems with one stroke—and the answer was riding right beside him.

  Glynis was at the top of Connor’s list of marriage prospects, so Alex could do his duty by his clan and provide a good mother for Sorcha at the same time. And it didn’t hurt that he had this abiding itch to bed the very woman who would suit both purposes so well.

  Glynis needed a husband, and he needed a wife. Alex was sure he could work out a sensible arrangement with her.

  He turned and gave Glynis a wide smile.

  As the saying went, get bait while the tide is out.

  * * *

  What was Alex doing, smiling and winking at her like that, for anyone to see?

  “I’d like to sneak off with ye and share a blanket under the stars tonight,” Alex said.

  Glynis glanced about her, blushing to her roots. Fortunately, the riders had strung out along the trail so that no one else was within earshot. Bessie appeared to be enjoying herself overmuch, chatting with D’Arcy’s manservant at the back of the group.

  “Ye have your daughter with ye,” she hissed.

  “I missed ye in my bed last night,” Alex said. “I couldn’t sleep at all.”

  “Alex, hush!” she said.
“I’m sure ye say that to all your women.”

  “Nay, I never tell women I miss them.”

  Glynis did not know what to make of that. Despite herself, she was flattered that Alex still wanted her. But then, they had a long journey ahead, and there were no other women, save for Bessie, who had a good twenty years on him.

  “What happened between us should not have,” she said, turning to speak to him in a low voice. “And ye know verra well it cannot happen again.”

  “Why not?”

  What a maddening man. “I only did it because no one would ever find out,” she hissed. “And because I never expected to see ye again.”

  “Ye do want to,” Alex said, giving her that smoldering look that made her chest so tight she could hardly draw breath.

  His hair brushed his shoulders, and she remembered gripping it in her fingers. And how it felt to have him deep inside her, saying her name over and over.

  Aye, she wanted to.

  “It doesn’t matter whether I want to or no,” she said. “I cannot, and I will not.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Glynis sat with Sorcha on her lap while Alex fed sticks into the fire. After four nights, they had their routine. They ate supper with D’Arcy and his men around the main campfire, and then Alex built them a separate fire several yards away from the others. He had also fashioned a tent from extra blankets for Glynis, Bessie, and Sorcha, to give them privacy from the men. Bessie, who was not accustomed to long days of riding, was already asleep inside it.

  The firelight glinted off Alex’s fair hair and the strong lines of his perfect face. Though it was growing chilly, he pushed his sleeves up, revealing his tautly muscled forearms. When he caught her staring at him, he pinned her with a sizzling look. Then he slid his gaze over her from head to toe, with pauses in between, making her feel as if he was running his fingers over her naked skin.