“Teàrlag did say to remind ye that she was correct about the three women,” Ilysa said, “and about the gift being special and bright as a moonbeam.”
Alex glanced over his shoulder at his wee daughter, whose hair was the color of moonbeams and whose name meant “radiant.” “Aye, she is a special gift.”
“And the three women?” Ilysa asked.
“Three did require my help, though I can’t say any of them gave me a choice about giving it,” he said. “Glynis threatened me, Sorcha’s mother sailed off without her, and I couldn’t very well let the other one drown.”
Ilysa laughed. “I suppose not.”
“As Teàrlag predicted, one brought deceit and another danger,” he said, and his heart missed a beat as he thought of how he could have lost Sorcha. Attempting to regain his light tone, he said, “And I’m hoping my new bride will fulfill a few of my deepest desires tonight.”
Ilysa gave him a soft smile and touched his arm. “Open your heart to Glynis.”
“And why should I take advice from Duncan’s baby sister?” Alex asked.
“Because, while some say ye got a better woman than ye deserve,” Ilysa said, “I believe ye can be as good a man as ye want to be, Alexander Bàn MacDonald.”
* * *
Sorcha leaned against her father and waved good-bye to Dunscaith Castle as they sailed away. She missed the little red-haired girls already. Though they made lots of funny sounds, they had only one word between them. Sorcha didn’t mind that they screamed it over and over—Da! Da!—because it made them so happy.
But she was disappointed she did not get to see the warrior queen her father told her about.
Unless her new mother was the warrior queen. Glynis dressed like the other women, but Sorcha could imagine her fighting with a great sword.
She felt safe with Glynis.
CHAPTER 38
Glynis intended to stay angry with Alex for a very long time.
Of course, having her husband sleep through their wedding night was a vast improvement over her first wedding night. Ach, Magnus was a disgusting, selfish pig both in and out of bed.
Glynis felt herself softening toward Alex as she watched him at the rudder, with Sorcha on his lap, pointing out landmarks on the shore and the small islands they passed. Alex had such an easy, generous nature. As her curiosity overcame her stubbornness, she inched her way along the rail until she was close enough to hear what Alex was saying.
“That is where your grandmother lives,” Alex said, pointing to a two-story house on an offshore island to their right. Then he pointed to an older, larger fortified house a short distance up the coast on their left. “And that is your grandfather’s, which is where we’ll be staying.”
Sorcha tugged at his arm and held up two fingers.
“Why do they have two houses?” Alex paused for a long moment before he answered. “They needed room for all their friends.”
Glynis should have taken that as a warning.
Alex’s mother and father had an earlier start from Dunscaith and were both waiting in the hall for them. As the serving women came in and out with drinks and platters of food, they gave Alex overly friendly greetings. Not one of them was old or unattractive.
This household was altogether too much like Clanranald’s. It made Glynis physically ill to be here. Although Alex’s jokes and laughing remarks were not as blatant as Magnus’s pinches and squeezes, his relationship with several of the women was clear, nonetheless.
Glynis was rapidly losing her appreciation for her new husband’s generous nature.
“Hello, Anna,” Alex called out to a buxom redhead, who winked at him. “You’re looking well, Brigid,” he said to the dark-haired beauty who made a point of brushing up against his shoulder when she brought him a cup of ale.
Sweat broke out on Glynis’s palms as she fought another wave of nausea. She fixed her gaze on the far wall and held on to the table as she got to her feet.
“I’d like to get settled in my chamber, if someone will show me where it is.”
* * *
“Here we are,” Alex said, as he opened the door for Glynis and Sorcha.
It felt strange to be in his old bedchamber, and stranger still to be settling his new family in it. From the time he was old enough to sail on his own, he had spent as little time here as possible. He was always off having adventures—or getting into trouble, depending on your point of view—with Connor, Ian, and Duncan. He’d made himself a regular guest at both Dunscaith and Ian’s house.
Sorcha went to the window to look out, and Glynis looked everywhere but at him. Alex glanced at the small bed. His feet would hang off the end, but Glynis could not avoid him in a bed that size. He was desperate to have some time alone with her—both in and out of bed. He would ask his mother to take Sorcha to sleep with her.
He was pleased then when his mother appeared in the doorway.
“Do ye have what ye need?” she asked.
Though his mother had moved out years ago, she always assumed the role of hostess the moment she stepped foot into his father’s house. Before Alex could ask her about changing the sleeping arrangements, his mother forged ahead with what she had come to tell them.
“Our clansmen on this side of Skye didn’t get word in time to come to the wedding feast at Dunscaith.” She clasped her hands together and beamed at them. “So I’ve invited them all here tonight for another wedding feast!”
Alex was furious with his mother. The last thing he needed tonight was a second wedding feast.
“That was kind of ye,” Glynis said, but she had gone pale as death. “I’m a wee bit tired from all the…excitement…of last night. So if ye don’t mind taking Sorcha, I’d like to take a rest.”
“I could use a lie down myself,” Alex said, feeling hopeful.
“I’m sure ye can find a bed somewhere,” Glynis said, giving him a look that would sour milk.
“What in the hell have ye done, Mother?” Alex demanded, as they went down the stairs. “Ye should have asked me before inviting everyone.”
“I wanted to make your wife and daughter feel welcome,” his mother said, smiling down at Sorcha.
Alex was not appeased by his mother’s professed good intensions. Both his parents always did precisely as they wanted with no thought to anyone else. The deed was done, however, so tonight would be spent entertaining every man, woman, and child within a half day’s journey of his father’s house.
A short while later, he was sitting in the hall contemplating his grim future with a cup of ale when his parents’ voices pierced his thoughts. When he turned, he saw his daughter squeezing the life out of her old doll as she looked back and forth between his parents.
“I don’t care what ye say,” his mother said, leaning forward with her hands on her hips. “I’m taking Sorcha home with me tonight.”
“Ye will no take my granddaughter out of this house,” his father shouted.
His parents were far too engrossed in their argument to notice Sorcha was watching them with eyes as big as platters. Alex stormed over and picked up his daughter. When she leaned against him with her thumb in her mouth, he brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead.
“I won’t have this,” he said to his parents, who had paused long enough to look at him. “The two of ye will get along in my daughter’s presence, or ye will not see her.”
His parents spoke over each other. “But she is my only grandchild!” “You’ve no right!”
“I do have the right,” Alex said, fixing his gaze on each of his parents in turn. “And I will no allow ye to fight over her the way ye did with me.”
Alex had never voiced his feelings about their fighting before, and they were both—for once—too shocked to speak. He supposed that was often the way of it with families. The obvious truths were never spoken aloud, as if that somehow made them less true.