Chapter 20

There, ye wanted her gone, and now she will never come back.

Alex held in the bellow of rage he wanted to let out. He was aware of the pirates and the villagers all around them. Somewhere in their midst was the person who wished Isobel harm. He had to ensure that they only saw indifference from him toward her, at least until he caught the culprit.

Speaking to her in such a way had made a sharp pain bloom in his chest, but it was her muted response that made guilt roil in his gut like nothing he had ever felt before.

Where was his fiery warrior? She had listened to his cruel words as though it was the most natural thing in the world, and accepted them without a word of protest.

Alex looked about him, noting the curious glances from the surrounding onlookers, and clenched his jaw in determination.

"I'll tell ye when ye have permission to return," he shouted after her, watching her shoulders hunch over the saddle as she rode out of the village at full speed.

He was glad to see it. When he had heard she had returned, it was not anger he had felt, but fear.

He had watched her enter the village, unarmed and without any protection, and it had sent a bolt of panic through his chest.

She wasn't safe here, and it was clear that whoever had targeted them wasn't finished yet. He'd had to get her to leave, by any means necessary, but he still felt sickened by the words he had chosen to do it.

Alex glanced over at Gavin, who stood on the brow of the hill, frowning at him. He approached, raising an eyebrow at him in a challenge.

"One fight wasnae enough for ye, is that it?" Alex growled, squaring up to his man-at-arms, willing him to throw the first punch.

He longed for a brawl. If he could have hit himself for his conduct, he would have done so.

Gavin did turn toward him, but his expression was one of pity, not anger. "Ye're a stubborn fool, Cap'n," he murmured, shaking his head as he backed away. "Ye think havin' her miles away from ye can protect her better than havin' her by yer side?"

"I'll thank ye to keep yer thoughts to yerself, lad," Alex growled back at him.

Gavin shook his head, turning away from him and retreating to the village without another word.

Alex watched him go, feeling the frustration and rage grow to an impossible level within him. He raised a closed fist and punched the wall of Rory's cottage so hard that his skin split open, sending shockwaves of pain up his forearm. He grimaced, looking down at the sharp shards of stone that were lodged between his knuckles.

He pulled out a long shard, looking down at the blood dripping down his fingers. Then he looked up at the village, watching everyone go about their business without a care in the world. Everything looked so calm and peaceful. He wondered again who in a quiet village such as this would have the nerve to launch an attack.

They wouldnae.One of me men is behind this, I'm sure of it.

He looked at Gavin's back as he wandered into the village. He didn't want to believe that his loyal man-at-arms could be responsible. Not only had he been his friend for longer than he could remember, but Gavin seemed to truly respect and care for Isobel.

Alex looked around at the many villagers going about their day. Some would not meet his eye, but many nodded to him in greeting and seemed unaffected by his presence. Isobel was right, he had to give them time to adjust, and being amongst them for the past few days had certainly improved their attitude toward him.

He thought back to the tears welling up in his wife's eyes as he had rejected her yet again. He cursed, shaking the grit from his hand, and walked purposefully back toward Jock, grabbing his reins and hauling himself into the saddle. He untied the loop of rope from the fence with a flick of his wrist, backed up, and then spurred his horse out of the village.

A little time later, he was standing on the edge of the beach, breathing in the salty air.

He swallowed, wishing that Isobel was with him, aggravated that her presence in his life had become such a calming force. Who had ever heard of a pirate not being able to walk toward the sea?

He stared out at the waves with quiet hatred, listening to the accursed tide going out.

Perhaps we can make some new memories…

Her kind words echoed in his mind, and he realized that she had been right about that, too. Looking at the shallow water before him brought back memories of her beautiful body, her face carefree and happy. It seemed, day by day, that Isobel was erasing his old life without even trying.

He walked slowly onto the beach, trying to quell the many memories that always threatened to surface. He focused on her long hair washed by the tide, her smiling face as she emerged like a mermaid from the water.

As he reached the edge of the sea, he felt himself centered once more, and he began to look around himself. To his right, something glinted in the sand, and he walked toward it.

Embedded in the sand was an arrow from when they had been attacked. He pulled it out, brushing away the sparkling grains and examining the tip. He felt fresh fury as he touched the sharp point, felt the weight of it. This was a weapon for killing, and someone had fired it at his wife.

He examined it with a heavy heart. He recognized it well, for he had been using it for years.

The arrow was pirate-made.

* * *

By the time Isobel returned to the castle, she had her emotions under control. She left Heather with the groomsmen and walked swiftly inside.

Lydia was sitting on the steps outside, waiting for her, and as Isobel approached, she got to her feet and followed her inside.

"Away with ye," Isobel said half-heartedly as Lydia fell into step with her.

"Is everythin' resolved?" Lydia asked.

"Nay, it isnae. Leave me be."

Isobel pushed the large oak door of the main hall open to find Nora and Emma inside. Hunter was there too, standing by the fire, holding the bairn and speaking in a low voice to Emma. He took one look at Isobel's face and gave his wife a swift kiss on the cheek before departing.

"Ye've been crying," Emma noted unhappily. "I havenae seen ye cry in years."

Isobel sniffed, shaking her head. "And ye willnae now. It is the wind, that is all. It's grown cold."

Lydia took Isobel's hand in hers. Isobel wanted to wrench it free, but one look at her sister's innocent face put paid to that. She sighed as Lydia led her to the fireplace, and she sat in the warmth, with her sisters surrounding her.

"What happened that made ye return so soon?" Nora asked softly.

Isobel felt a lump form in her throat, but she swallowed past it, sitting up straighter in her chair. "What was inevitable. He laid down the law, told me nae to come to the village without his permission, and said if I didnae want an heir, there was nay use for me to be there at all."

Emma's expression was stony as she listened to her sister, her fingers gripping the arm of her chair tightly. "How dare he," she hissed.

"It's all right, Emma," Isobel said wearily.

"Ye keep saying those words, and it never is. This isnae a way to treat anyone, least of all his wife."

Isobel shook her head. "It is just further proof that I am better off alone. I never wished for a husband, or for anythin' more than to serve me people. I can do that without him. He can forget the heir. I willnae let him touch me again."

She felt the certainty of her words envelop her like armor. She could not believe how Alex could have been so cruel. His dismissive attitude toward her, speaking to her as though she had simply come to the village to lie with him, made her feel sick to her stomach.

I will never let any man rule me. In one breath he says he willnae force me to endure what I cannae, and in the next he dismisses me like a stranger.

Her sisters seemed to be waiting for her to say more, but Isobel slumped down in her chair, staring at the flames, unable to speak.

Lydia read to them all for a little while, her eyes continually flicking to Isobel and then back to the pages of her book. Isobel could feel the worry permeating the air between them, but she could not bring herself to speak any words of comfort. She did not feel like giving comfort when none was forthcoming to her.

Despite their best efforts, nothing could pull her from her melancholy, and after some time, Emma and Nora retired for the night. Lydia continued to read until the end of the chapter and then closed the book quietly. She stood up, coming over to her and giving her a soft kiss on the head before retiring.

Isobel knew her maids would be waiting to undress her, but she couldn't face going up to her room yet. She stared into the flames, replaying the events of the last few days in her mind.

Although she tried to focus on her anger, her thoughts constantly returned to Alex's wide smile as he stood with her in the ocean. It was such a rare and beautiful thing. When he smiled, a slight dimple appeared on his cheek.

She wished she could make him smile more, but it seemed her presence only caused him anger and pain.

She stood up, throwing a few more logs into the fire and watching them catch as the heat intensified.

She didn't understand what had brought on such a change of mood. Alex had been so unkind to her, so unlike the man she had believed him to be.

"The only time I backed down from a kill was for a rabbit, and it got me where I am today."

She had not been able to get those words out of her head—they squatted in the back of her mind like a toad. What had he meant?

She thought back to his reaction to the baby deer in the forest, the look of surprise on his face as she had not allowed him to kill it. She had seen the tension drain from him while he watched her tend to the fawn from the shadows, a small smile playing on his lips.

She thought of the little she knew of his life. He had divulged such a small amount, even with her gentle probing.

If he had backed away from killing a rabbit, was that at the behest of his father? She could not imagine how it could have been from anyone else.

Alex had told her he had been at sea for twenty years, that he had only been ten years old when he had been forced to kill a member of the crew. What ten-year-old boy ended up on a pirate ship alone to fend for himself? She shuddered at the idea of Alex amongst such villains in his youth.

Why had he ended up on the ship? Isobel thought of her own confinement at Geoffrey's hands, of her utter lack of agency, with no freedom of choice. As a small boy, Alex would never have been able to choose that life. It made sense that his father had placed him aboard the ship. But for what reason, she could not fathom.

Nay wonder he hated his faither. And I believed Geoffrey was the worst of men.

She shivered as a chilly breeze blew into the room, and she finally rose from her position by the fire and walked back up to her room. Her mind whirled with possibilities as she thought through everything he had told her about his life before. Her heart ached for the man he might have been, had he never set foot on a pirate ship.

Perhaps they might have met later in life as different people. Alex would have been a strong laird, tutored by his father. Isobel would not have fled her lands, living out her days in a gentle world without Geoffrey. She imagined them meeting under happier circumstances and felt fresh tears roll down her cheeks, as she wished their lives could have been so pure.

Alex was battered and broken, just as he had appeared to her when she had first seen him at the tournament. He was a mountain of a man, cold and unmoving, yet there were cracks inside him that might never be repaired.

She reached the top of the long stairway, the light of the candles bathing the steps in a soft glow as she looked outside at the darkened landscape.

Despite her bluster with her sisters, she realized with a dawning sense of sadness that she missed him.

If only we could strengthen one another and find a way to fight our demons together.