Chapter 12

"M'Laird?"

Alex jerked awake in an instant, finding his hand gripping the dirk beneath his pillow tightly. As he came to full consciousness, he heard another sharp rap on his bedroom door.

"Aye," he grunted, his voice thick with sleep. "Enter."

He stowed the knife quickly back beneath his pillow as his servants entered to prepare the room.

He glanced at the window. The storm had died down, revealing bright blue skies and fluffy white clouds.

He felt well-rested and refreshed—something that he had not experienced for many years.

He was still unaccustomed to waking up in a bed that was not rocked by the ocean, and as he listened to the servants stoking the fire and filling the basin with water, he thought back to the events of the night before.

Isobel seemed to be almost as stubborn as him. He wondered how they would ever live in harmony, given their tendency to argue at every given opportunity.

I am a husband,yet I woke up alone.

As he dressed, he contemplated going through the passageway and knocking on Isobel's door to ask her how she was faring. He could not remember his sleep being so undisturbed in months.

His nights were always plagued by terrible dreams—images of his time at sea, faces of foes he had defeated and bitter battles he had won.

Yet, the night before, they had not taken their usual hold. He could not even recall waking up in the early hours of the morning, as he was accustomed to.

He frowned, feeling a tingling sensation in his palm as he recalled something. The creaking of a floorboard and a hand holding his own, lulling him back to sleep.

He shook his head.

Wishful thinking, that is all. Was most likely a spirit of the castle come to claim me soul.

He buckled his belt and made his way down to the main banqueting hall, following his nose as the smell of eggs wafted through the corridors, making his stomach grumble loudly.

Laird MacRoss was just entering the hall from the opposite door. Isobel's sisters and their families had stayed overnight, and it had been quite a challenge to find them rooms that were habitable.

Behind Laird MacRoss came his wife, Emma, and she gave Alex a long look as she entered, as though to assess whether he had been able to corrupt her little sister in the space of a single evening.

Behind them came Laird Buckhan and Isobel's eldest sister, Nora, with their son in her arms. Lydia, the youngest of the Knox sisters, trailed behind, her bonnie face turning pale as she laid eyes on him. Alex frowned, attempting to look as friendly as possible.

"Good mornin'," he said quickly, feeling Emma's glare burning a hole into his neck, so sharp that it might have cut through his skin.

"Laird Rothach." Hunter nodded, seemingly rather more friendly than his wife and the rest of the party.

At that moment, the servants entered the hall, carrying many plates of food, and they all took their seats.

Alex sat at the head, with Hunter on his right, and the rest of them took up chairs on both sides of the long table. It was one of the few items of furniture that he had brought from the original castle. It was a beautiful piece, ornate and carved with the crest of his mother's house.

He hoped it would survive the weight of the multiple plates of food that were being placed before them.

As he was contemplating a fairly deep crack that stretched from his elbow all the way down the length of the table, Isobel entered the room. She looked beautiful in a dress of deep mauve, her hair tied back from her face. His eyes raked over her figure, and he felt an ache in his chest that they were so at odds.

Isobel would not meet his eyes, taking a seat opposite her sisters, a silent conversation passing between them in a series of looks as he helped himself to a huge portion of eggs.

He did not remember ever being so hungry. Marriage had clearly given him an appetite.

"What news?" Alex asked Hunter as Gavin entered, taking his place directly behind him, his hand on his sword.

His man-at-arms looked a little worse for wear, and Alex smirked at him, receiving a withering look in response.

"Have me men begun to get settled in Clan Clyde?" he continued, turning back to Hunter.

Laird MacRoss nodded while chewing on a small chunk of bread dripping with butter. "They have," he replied. "One of yer men is managin' their movements."

"Rory Darrow. He is a good man," Alex replied.

"Indeed. He has been a great help in finding them accommodation. Of the twenty men, nearly fifteen have their quarters marked out across the villages. Many of them are happy with the land, too. The lagoon is plentiful throughout the year, and they have everything they require."

"That is good," Alex murmured, happy to hear his men were being cared for.

Maybe no one in Clan Clyde would ever truly accept them, but at least they were able to live peaceably once more.

He glanced over at Isobel, who was still not looking at him. Had his wife become shy overnight? Perhaps she was thinking about that moment by the fireplace and the sharp heat between them. Alex certainly hadn't been able to put it out of his mind as he tried to fall asleep.

At that moment, Lydia leaned forward in her chair, finally looking in his direction. She certainly seemed to be the least confident of the Knox sisters, lacking Isobel's fire.

"I hope that the men from yer ship feel at home in Clan Clyde," she said, her expression earnest, although she did not meet his eyes. "It must be awful to be away for so long and have nowhere and nay one to return to."

Alex felt a brief warmth spread through his chest at her compassionate words, before it was quickly doused as he heard Isobel scoff from her seat further down the table.

"These are the consequences of living a life at sea, hurting others, and stealin' from those more worthy than themselves. If they have lived a hard life, it is of their own choosin', nae others."

Alex placed his knife and fork down with a clatter, and Emma stiffened, giving him a wary look.

Isobel turned her face toward him, defiant fury in her gaze. She was baiting him, he knew it, and yet he was powerless to prevent his reaction. He was all the more furious that she had chosen to say such a thing in front of her entire family, who already thought so little of him.

He was reminded, yet again, that he had no family to defend him or praise his character. All he had were the rumors and beliefs of people who did not know him. It was galling for him to recognize that Isobel was among their number.

"Is that what ye think?" he asked coldly, his temper rising, even as those clear blue eyes stared him down.

"Is it nae true?' Isobel asked angrily.

Alex took a deep breath, looking down at his breakfast, his appetite gone.

He stood up abruptly, bowing to them without a word, and stormed out of the room, slamming the doors behind him with a resounding thud.

* * *

Isobel could feel all three of her sisters watching her as her temper cooled again. Gavin followed swiftly after his master as the room fell utterly silent.

She would not apologize for pointing out the truth of a pirate's life, not to anyone.

"That wasnae a very kind thing to say, Izzy," Lydia said carefully.

Emma cleared her throat, giving Isobel a long look over her glass. "It is true," she agreed. "He cannae imagine his people will ever be accepted here. Nay one would trust a pirate crew walkin' through our lands any more than they would trust a group of thieves released from gaol."

Isobel glanced irritably at her sister, whose knowing gaze was still fixed on her.

"Ye are certainly agitated this mornin'," Emma noted kindly. "What has ye so shaken?"

Isobel tutted at her sister's infuriating ability to read her like a book. "I heard him talkin' in his sleep," she admitted softly.

"What do ye mean?" Nora asked.

"He was havin' a nightmare."

Isobel thought back to the night before, the sweat covering Alex's skin, the timbre of his voice as he shouted into the night.

"I believe it to be true, what he said," she continued, "asleep or nae. I think Lydia is right. He murdered his faither to take up the position of Laird."

To suspect it was one thing, but to say it aloud to her family and see the looks of concern flash across their faces was quite another.

"Do ye think ye are in danger?" Hunter asked darkly, his eyes flicking to the door Alex had walked through.

Isobel could almost feel his hand moving to his blade as he asked the question.

"I dinnae ken what to think. I dinnae ken why he hasnae told me the truth."

Nora sat back in her chair, her hand on her swollen belly as Leo helped their son cut up the meat on his plate. Leo glanced back at her with a warm smile, making her eyes light up.

"Sometimes the easiest thing to do in a marriage is to ask the question," Nora said thoughtfully. "He willnae offer it, I'd wager. He willnae ken how ye'd react, after all."

"He may suspect ye wouldnae react favorably," Lydia muttered as she kept her eyes averted from Isobel's gaze.

"Nae good startin' a marriage on the wrong foot," Emma chipped in.

Isobel watched as Hunter's hand reached for her sister's and they intertwined their fingers.

Her sisters were so in love with their husbands. It was a state Isobel could never imagine for her future.

"It's nae as though we care for each other," she said bitterly, feeling her sadness at the truth of those words.

"That doesnae mean ye cannae find a way to live peacefully together," Emma pointed out softly, her hand still entwined with Hunter's.

"Peace is a relative term," Leo chimed in with a chuckle, and Nora hit him lightly over the head. "Ye cannae marry a will-o'-the-wisp and expect her to bow to yer whims."

Isobel snorted in a most unladylike manner. Her brothers-in-law knew of her willful nature better than anyone.

She glanced back at Lydia, who was staring at the table, a furrow deep between her eyebrows. Isobel knew how much her sister worried for her safety, and she could accept that her well-meaning words were merely due to their fear for her.

She thought of the night before, as she had stood before the fire, looking up into Alex's dark gaze, his piercing eyes cutting through to her very soul. She had lain awake, tossing and turning all night, wishing that he would come to her, and cursing herself for her weakness as she did so.

"Very well," she conceded, clearing her throat hurriedly as she felt a blush bloom in her cheekbones. "I shall go and find me husband and make the only peace I ken how."

"Did ye leave yer arrows in yer rooms, this time?" Hunter asked, prompting a loud laugh from Leo.

Isobel rolled her eyes at them as she headed out. She needed to find her husband. Now.