The Sinner

Alex wanted her so much that he could almost have agreed to a life in chains just to have her this once. But when Glynis’s eyes went wide with panic, he came to his senses. Slowly, he straightened and forced himself to release her.

Glynis swayed on her feet, as if her legs might not hold her. When Alex started to reach for her, her father gave him a quelling look and put a firm arm around her shoulders.

Alex glanced left and right, taking in the circle of men around them. What madness had taken hold of him to kiss the chieftain’s daughter—and to kiss her like that—in front of all of her father’s warriors? Alex hadn’t given a thought to the other men on the beach. Nay, he hadn’t even seen them.

Stealing a kiss from a willing lass was no grave offense, so the MacNeil probably wouldn’t kill him. On the other hand, his timing was verra poor, and any fool could see that he hadn’t meant to stop with the kiss.

“What do ye have to say for yourself, Alex Ban MacDonald?” the MacNeil chieftain demanded.

“If I said I was sorry for kissing your daughter, we’d both know I was lying,” Alex said. Then he turned to Glynis, who looked as dazed as he felt. “I am sorry, lass, if I embarrassed ye.”

Alex wished he could speak with her without all the others watching, so he could ask her if she was all right. But if he did have Glynis MacNeil alone now, he knew damned well they wouldn’t waste the opportunity talking.

CHAPTER 4

DUNSCAITH CASTLE, ISLE OF SKYE

TWO MONTHS LATER

Alex waved to his cousin, the chieftain of the MacDonalds of Sleat, who was making his way down to the shore from Dunscaith Castle to meet him. Connor’s shoulder-length black hair blew behind him as he jumped from rock to rock.

“Have ye started to regret taking the chieftainship yet?” Alex asked, as Connor helped haul the boat up onto the beach.

“Every day,” Connor said with a dry laugh. “How do our clansmen on North Uist fare?”

“They’ve lost a good deal to the raiders, but they won’t starve,” Alex said. “The fishing is good, and the other supplies I delivered should see them through until the next harvest.”

After climbing up the hill, he and Connor crossed the narrow bridge to the castle, which was built on a rock off the headland.

“Ian and Duncan are here as well,” Connor said. “We have clan business to discuss.”

Inside, the hall had clean rushes, and the servants were sober. This was a far cry from the condition the castle had been in when they took it from Connor’s uncle Hugh. The cleanliness and order were the work of Duncan’s sister, Ilysa. Though they weren’t actually related, Ilysa was the closest thing Connor had to a female relative to perform the castle duties in place of a wife.

Their cousin Ian, who looked so much like Connor they could pass as brothers, was sitting at the chieftain’s high table with Duncan.

“Ian, ye look like shite,” Alex greeted him.

Ian grinned. “The twins are keeping Sileas and me up most nights. They’re getting more new teeth.”

Ach, no. The last time Alex had seen Ian’s bairns, one of them crawled up his leg, sank her teeth into his knee, and held on like a limpet.

“’Tis only the start of the trouble those pretty babes are going to cause ye,” Alex said. “Ye know that, don’t ye?”

“I do,” Ian said with a weary smile. “They are beauties, aren’t they?”

The thought of raising daughters gave Alex the shudders, but Ian’s eyes shone when he spoke of his wee, red- haired devils.

At Connor’s signal, the other men in the hall moved away to allow the four of them to speak in private. Connor had a formal council of senior clansmen, as was expected, but everyone knew that Ian, Alex, and Duncan were his closest advisers.

“We need to forge strong alliances to survive these troubled times,” Connor said, taking the seat across the table from Alex. “Our clan is still weak after losing my father and so many other men at the Battle of Flodden.”

The four of them had been in France when they received the news of the Scots’ disastrous loss to Henry VIII’s forces at Flodden. They had returned home to find their king and their chieftain among the dead and their clan in a dire state.

“We succeeded in throwing Hugh out of the chieftain’s castle,” Alex said.

He did not mention that Connor’s uncle was still a source of dissention within the clan. Some of their clansmen mistook Hugh’s brutality for strength and, if given the chance, would support him as chieftain.

“We have much to do yet,” Connor said, his voice hard. “We cannot rest until we have control over all of the lands that rightfully belong to our clan.”

“Aye!” Duncan said, and they all raised their cups.

They had secured their base here on the Isle of Skye, with Connor holding Dunscaith Castle on one side of the Sleat Peninsula and Ian holding Knock Castle on the other. It pained them all, however, that the MacLeods had stolen the Trotternish Peninsula while the four of them were still in France. And now, Hugh and his pirates were ravaging their lands on the island of North Uist.

“We don’t yet have the strength to fight the MacLeods for the rest of our lands here on Skye,” Ian said. “That will be a bloody battle when it comes.”

“Our first task should be to protect our kin on North Uist,” Alex said. “Our clansmen there live at the mercy of these pirates.” Seeing how his kinsmen were preyed upon had eaten a hole in his stomach.

“I agree,” Connor said. “Before the fall harvest, I want one of ye to rebuild our castle on North Uist and remain there to protect our clansmen.”