The council members looked at one another, then at Moira. Eventually, they shifted their gaze to Kyle, suspicion hardening their eyes. He raised his right hand and shook his head while grinning. He was casually leaning back in his chair, but Moira knew the position was deceptive. He was ready to draw his knives and sword the moment he perceived a threat.
“Don’t look at me,” Kyle smirked. “I’m not interested in running this clan. Though for what it’s worth, you’d be eejits to turn my wife away. She’d kept the peace for years, and you were all too arrogant to notice. Now you reap what you sowed. You need her far more than she needs you. She has a home wherever she wishes to go. She has men who will defend her till their last breath. She has family who appreciate and want her. She’s more capable of leading this clan than the lot of us put together.”
“But do you intend to make your home here too?” Hogan asked.
The amusement dropped from Kyle’s face, and every man at the table leaned away. Kyle’s voice had a steeliness that reminded the men of how he earned his moniker. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I just wondered if you prefer the sea over land,” Hogan clarified.
“What I prefer is my wife,” Kyle stated.
“But you’re a…” Finnian didn’t finish.
“I was,” Kyle corrected. “I go wherever my wife wishes. If she wants to remain here, then she has a respectable merchant for a husband. If she wishes adventure upon the seas, then a pirate I remain. It’s Moira’s decision.”
“Never would I have thought the Red Drifter would take orders from a bitch in heat,” Curran sneered. There was a collective gasp from everyone in earshot. Moira shook her head and sat back. Kyle laid a dirk on the table. His hand rested beside it, but he did not touch it.
“I love my wife.” Kyle watched Curran, but everyone knew he addressed the clan. “If you think I will sail off and leave her, you can put that notion aside. If you think I will come and go to leave you to do as you please, which apparently includes bullying and ignoring my wife, I will disabuse you of that notion. If you ever speak to or about my wife like that again, I will take you aboard my ship. I will cut off your bollocks and shove them down your throat, cut off your cock and shove it up your arse, just before I cast you adrift. Do not confuse my respect and affection for my wife for weakness. And do not think I will ever turn a blind eye or a deaf ear to someone who threatens my wife and family. I will kill you and curl up beside Moira that night without a worry in the world.”
“And before any of you think my husband will suffer an unfortunate accident to make your lives easier, there is a reason my husband and I get along so well. We are cast in the same mold,” Moira said as her hand covered the handle of Kyle’s knife. “And if you still think to leave me a widow, you’d do well to remember several things.” Moira held up her other hand, putting up a finger for each point. “Where the Red Drifter sails, so does the Scarlet Blade. The Dark Heart and the Blond Devil may no longer be pirates, but they’re ever loyal to their former first mates. You should fear Senga MacNeil and Caragh MacNeil more than you do their husbands. And they are my friends.”
“If we accept your terms, you’ll stay?” Beagan asked, eager to end the conversation.
“No,” Moira said. “I will speak to my nephew, and I will inspect this keep and our clan. Then I will decide.” The decisiveness in her voice, the command that rang clear finally permeated the last of the councilmen’s minds.
“Aunty Moira?” Sean said, the child’s timing as impeccable as ever. “Did Beagan and the others tell you what happened to Mama?”
Moira cast an alarmed look at the council members before she shook her head. She dreaded hearing what the others must have said to explain Lizzie’s disappearance.
“They told me that Mama made many bad decisions for many years. Do you remember how she used to say Ruairí was my da? She also made some women angry because she used to ask their husbands to play with her.” Despite her earlier bravado, Sean’s words made Moira’s face flame red. “I know she did things that hurt you, Aunty Moira. I know Aidan loves you, but Mama says she knows things that make Aidan like her better. I don’t think he does.”
Moira shot Kyle an uneasy look. He leaned over and whispered, “I knew as soon as you came up on deck. I suspected as much when he asked me to fetch you.” Moira shook her head, unable to come to terms with what Sean said and Kyle confirmed. It was the antithesis of how Aidan had treated her since he walked away from her all those years ago.
“But Aunty Moira,” Sean placed his sweaty palms on her cheeks. “Aidan took Mama to the O’Malleys. Mama is going to marry the new O’Malley chieftain. He’s the brother of the man you were supposed to marry. Mama cried a lot when Aidan told her that she was going.”
Moira nodded, too stunned to say anything as Sean continued. She lost track of what he said until the end. She’d gotten lost in her own thoughts about Lizzie’s future, her own past with Aidan, and how much she preferred her life with Kyle. “Aunty Moira?”
“Yes, m’fhear beag?” Moira had missed the term of affection for Sean, whose serious expressions made him look like the little man she called him.
“I know my mama is my mama, but I’ve always wished that was you. I know I still have to call you Aunty Moira, but can you be my real mama?” Sean glanced at Kyle. “And can Uncle Kyle be my real da? Aidan doesn’t want to be.”
Moira nodded as she wrapped her arms around the little boy who had held her heart since the day he was born. She didn’t love him any less now that she was married with her own child on the way. Her heart had only grown larger. She looked over Sean’s head at Kyle. They both knew they’d made their decision. They would remain at Dunluce and face the future together with Moira as chieftain and Kyle by her side.
“I’m glad you’re home, Mama. And I’m glad you brought me Da,” Sean whispered as he returned Moira’s embrace and smiled at Kyle. Kyle pulled Moira into his lap and wrapped his arms around his wife and nephew.
“I’m glad we’re home, too,” Moira said as she leaned back against Kyle and kissed Sean’s temple.
Epilogue
Moira nestled closer to Kyle, their bodies still damp from their coupling. Two decades after they said farewell to their lives at sea, the couple remained as devoted to one another as the day Moira came aboard the Lady Charity. Kyle ran his fingers along Moira’s back as he closed his eyes.
“I’m getting on in years, Moira. You shall make my heart stop one of these days with all your demands. Needy wench,” Kyle teased as he squeezed Moira’s backside. Moira rolled back over onto Kyle’s chest, his large body still dwarfing hers. She straddled him and kissed his neck, working her way behind his ear. Kyle groaned as his body stirred again. “I don’t know how you can do that. I can barely catch my breath, yet my body is clamoring for another go.”
“You shouldn’t have taught me so much,” Moira teased. She propped herself on her forearms, careful not to dig her elbows into Kyle’s ribs. “Can you believe Tadhg is getting married today?”
“Not really. It seems like it was mere moments ago that the midwife said you just needed fresh air and more loving because you were with child,” Kyle said before giving Moira a peck on the lips.
“With five children, I think you’ve given me quite a lot of good loving,” Moira grinned and wriggled her hips. A stinging slap landed across her backside. Kyle saw the fire in Moira’s eyes. It was the same one that entranced him more than two decades ago. They’d made a happy life at Dunluce, both settling into their roles among the clan. While Moira led their people, Kyle took over the training of the clan’s warriors and captaining the clan’s fleet of merchant ships. Some of his men stayed on and became paid warriors, but many found other ships to sail with. They’d weathered storms that challenged them individually and as a couple, but nothing ever broke their bond.
“And I shall continue,” Kyle said as he rolled them over, pinning Moira’s arms over her head. “When we retire tonight, mo g
hràidh, you had better not be too tired. I have plans for us that involve your favorite marble phallus, silk scarves, and me. But until then, we must go belowstairs and be the proud parents of the over-eager groom.”
“I thought Ruairí was going to slice Tadhg’s head off yesterday when we found Tina and him kissing in the orchard,” Moira laughed.
“Aye, well, he and Senga haven’t set any better example of restraint than you and I have. None of us have.”
“I was worried Keith and his family wouldn’t arrive in time. It was so late when they arrived last night,” Moira stated.
“All four of our families are rather large. Thank heavens Kisimul has so many chambers. Rowan and Caragh have their five children, and Ruairí and Senga have six. We have five, and Keith—good God, my brother has too many children. Eight. I can’t believe they’ve just had another.”
“I know. Sean is lucky he’s Rowan’s captain of the guard. He already has his own chamber, or he’d be doubling and tripling up like the rest of the children.”
“They’re not really children anymore, or so they remind us,” Kyle snickered.
“Well, until they’re all married, they’re still my wee ones.”
“Tadhg and Tina will be married by tonight, and the MacLeans and MacNeils will truly be family after all these years. Are you ready for a daughter after giving birth to five sons?” Kyle wondered.
“I like our lads. I love Tina, but I’ve never felt like I was missing anything by not having a daughter,” Moira mused.
“I never imagined I could love anyone as much as I do you and our children. I wasn’t sure whether I could be the father Sean needed when we adopted him, but I have never looked back. I love you, Moira. I have since the start, and I will until the very end.”
“I love you, Kyle. I would have been adrift without you,” Moira smiled as their bodies joined once again.
Thank you for reading The Red Drifter of the Sea
Celeste Barclay, a nom de plume, lives near the Southern California coast with her husband and sons. Growing up in the Midwest, Celeste enjoyed spending as much time in and on the water as she could. Now she lives near the beach. She's an avid swimmer, a hopeful future surfer, and a former rower. When she's not writing, she's working or being a mom.
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Pirates of the Isles
The Blond Devil of the Sea BOOK 1 SNEAK PEEK
Caragh lifted her torch into the air as she made her way down the precarious Cornish cliffside. She made out the hulking shape of a ship, but the dead of night made it impossible to see who was there. She and the fishermen of Bedruthan Steps weren’t expecting any shipments that night. But her younger brother Eddie, who stood watch at the entrance to their hiding place, had spotted the ship and signaled up to the village watchman, who alerted Caragh.
As her boot slid along the dirt and sand, she cursed having to carry the torch and wished she could have sunlight to guide her. She knew these cliffs well, and it was for that reason it was better that she moved slowly than stop moving once and for all. Caragh feared the light from her torch would carry out to the boat. Despite her efforts to keep the flame small, the solitary light would be a beacon.
When Caragh came to the final twist in the path before the sand, she snuffed out her torch and started to run to the cave where the main source of the village’s income lay in hiding. She heard movement along the trail above her head and knew the local fishermen would soon join her on the beach. These men, both young and old, were strong from days spent pulling in the full trawling nets and hoisting the larger catches onto their boats. However, these men weren’t well-trained swordsmen, and the fear of pirate raids was ever-present. Caragh feared that was who the villagers would face that night.
The Dark Heart of the Sea BOOK 2 SNEAK PEEK
Ruairí MacNeil opened the door to the Three Merry Lads and tried not to curl his nose in disgust. The overpowering odor of too many bodies, stale beers, and burned food created a cloud of stench inside the tavern. Ruairí scanned the crowd as he stepped inside and immediately noticed that many members of his crew were already settled, a pint in one hand and a woman in the other. His ship, the Lady Charity, had docked an hour earlier. With their most recent bounty already stored in the nearby cave, Ruairí had granted them shore leave. He nodded his head once to his first mate, Kyle, who was the only sober one in the lot. Ruairí made another visual sweep of the room, checking whether there were any other sailors who might be less enthused to see him come ashore. When he was satisfied none of his rivals were waiting to stab him, he attempted to make his way to the bar. As he pushed through the standing-room-only main room, he noticed a tavern wench attempting to carry a tray of empty mugs to the bar. She was a sturdy sort, but short when compared to the mountainous Highlanders and Hebrideans who made up the patrons of the Lads. Ruairí couldn’t help but smile as she tried to twist and shoulder her way past men who blocked her on purpose to give themselves more time to ogle her body.
It was rare that Ruairí felt mercy, sympathy, or compassion for anyone, let alone a woman, but there was an odd twinge in his heart as he watched her try to maintain her smile as she became more frustrated. The woman swatted away a hand that dared come too close to her modest neckline. That observation caused Ruairí to quirk a brow and inspect the woman. She had on a clean white blouse–a rarity in this tavern–and it fit loosely over her entire bust. It left much to the imagination, and Ruairí found his was alive and well. Her skirts reached her ankles instead of hiked up on either side like the other women who worked in the tavern. From what Ruairí could tell, she looked more like a farmer’s wife than a tavern wench. She didn’t fit in.
Ruairí’s sense of compassion grew alongside his annoyance at not being able to make his way to the bar. He began to elbow men around him, and the crowd parted. Between his size and reputation, Ruairí MacNeil was a hard man to ignore. He grasped the top of the woman’s hips and propelled her forward. She attempted to look over her shoulder, but she couldn’t make out the man who was either her captor or her protector. When they made it to the bar, the woman set her tray down and spun around.
The Highland Ladies
Have you been reading The Highland Ladies series? Be sure to preorder the newest installment, A Hellion at the Highland Court, coming December 26, 2020!
Always a bridesmaid, never a bride…
For more than a decade, Laurel Ross has been a lady-in-waiting at Robert the Bruce’s royal court, a place where money is power. Laurel is the fourth out of five daughters, and the only one unwed. While Laurel isn’t exactly a pauper, her father, the Earl of Ross, has already paid four large dowries. Sent to court to find a husband, Laurel’s once youthful hope has turned to bitterness as one friend after another marries. Her viperous tongue has earned her the title of “hellion”. Will any man accept a bride who comes with such a small dowry?
Every man is guilty of all the good he didn’t do…
Guilt is slowly eating away at Brodie Campbell. When Brodie’s betrothed unexpectedly falls ill and dies after he refuses to escort her home in the rain, Brodie’s guilt doesn’t come from the woman’s untimely death. It comes from the relief he feels that he’s no longer bound to her. Brodie isn’t interested in a biddable and mild bride. Intrigued by the fiery Laurel Ross, Brodie wonders if this shrew can ever be tamed. Armed with wealth and charm, Brodie welcomes the challenge. Will this spitfire relent long enough to find love with a man who tests her patience?<
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When a wager puts their lives in peril, Brodie and Laurel discover trust is earned, not given.
If you love a steamy rags-to-riches romance, then you’re sure to enjoy my sizzling new Highlander romance, A Hellion at the Highland Court.
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A Spinster at the Highland Court BOOK 1 SNEAK PEEK
Elizabeth Fraser looked around the royal chapel within Stirling Castle. The ornate candlestick holders on the altar glistened and reflected the light from the ones in the wall sconces as the priest intoned the holy prayers of the Advent season. Elizabeth kept her head bowed as though in prayer, but her green eyes swept the congregation. She watched the other ladies-in-waiting, many of whom were doing the same thing. She caught the eye of Allyson Elliott. Elizabeth raised one eyebrow as Allyson’s lips twitched. Both women had been there enough times to accept they’d be kneeling for at least the next hour as the Latin service carried on. Elizabeth understood the Mass thanks to her cousin Deirdre Fraser, or rather now Deirdre Sinclair. Elizabeth’s mind flashed to the recent struggle her cousin faced as she reunited with her husband Magnus after a seven-year separation. Her aunt and uncle’s choice to keep Deirdre hidden from her husband simply because they didn’t think the Sinclairs were an advantageous enough match, and the resulting scandal, still humiliated the other Fraser clan members at court. She admired Deirdre’s husband Magnus’s pledge to remain faithful despite not knowing if he’d ever see Deirdre again.
The Red Drifter of the Sea: A Steamy Opposites Attract Pirate Romance (Pirates of the Isles Book 3) Page 30
