And getting upset was not good for her baby.
Having finally talked herself into seeing reason, Glynis left the beach. She started up the path to the castle. But when she stopped and turned to take in the view, she saw Alex. He was walking with his back to her, but with his fair hair, tall frame, and long, easy stride, he could not be mistaken for anyone else.
Glynis ran to catch up with him. As she came closer, she saw that Alex had gathered flowers for her. Ach, her warrior had a soft heart. Glynis called to him, but he did not hear her over the wind. She smiled to herself as she decided to suggest they be truly wicked and make love outdoors in the middle of the day. They had not done that once since their journey to Edinburgh.
Glynis put her hand up to shield her eyes as Alex approached a small cottage. All the fears that she had spent the morning pushing away now slammed into her like a crashing wave. She waited, every muscle tense, to see who would greet her husband at this lowly fisherman’s cottage.
When the door opened, Glynis recognized Ùna’s dark golden hair. Dread clawed at her belly like a sea monster. When Alex held the flowers out to Ùna, Glynis sank to her knees in the tall grass. She felt as if a jagged blade was piercing her chest as her husband rested his hand on Ùna’s shoulder, ducked under the low doorway, and shut the cottage door behind him.
Glynis was so light-headed that she dropped her head to her knees to keep from fainting. All the pieces fell into place. Alex’s reluctance to arrange the marriage for Peiter. Ùna’s daily visits to the castle. The lass did not avoid looking at other men because she was shy, but because she belonged to the warrior who was the keeper of Dunfaileag Castle.
Glynis covered her face with hands. The lass was so young!
Although Glynis had been lulled into trusting Alex, down deep she knew that she would never be enough for him. Eventually, Alex’s desire for her would fade, and he would take another. And then another. But Glynis thought he would go to a woman like Catherine Campbell or that Mary back on Skye.
Ùna was just a poor fisherman’s daughter. Glynis never, ever thought Alex would take advantage of an inexperienced young lass who was in no position to refuse him.
How had she been so mistaken about what kind of man her husband was?
Glynis vomited into the grass until there was nothing left inside her. Then she sat on the ground with her head between her knees. When she had the strength to stand, she rose on shaky legs.
Nothing in her life would be as hard as what she had to do now.
She did not allow herself to look back at the cottage where her husband was sinning with a sweet, golden-haired lass. Instead, Glynis balled her hands into fists, stiffened her back, and started back up the path to the castle to pack her things.
She would leave this very day.
CHAPTER 44
Alex sensed there was a bad wind blowing his way as soon as he entered the gate. The men avoided his gaze, and the women sent him accusatory glances from the corners of their eyes. Surely, the body could not have been found already. Alex went over in his mind how he’d tied the rock to it.
He looked for Glynis in the hall. When he did not find her there, he went up to their bedchamber, taking the steps two at a time, and flung the door open. Glynis was on her knees before an open chest, surrounded by gowns. When she looked up, he saw that she had been weeping.
“Glynis, what happened?”
“Perhaps ye should tell me,” she said in a strained voice. She picked up a gown and folded it into a neat rectangle with swift, sharp movements.
“Why are ye angry?” he asked. “And what are ye doing with your clothes?”
“I am leaving.”
Panic rose in Alex’s throat. “I thought we were past this, Glynis. Why would ye leave me? How can ye?”
When she looked up, her eyes were wet but sharp as daggers. “I told ye I would leave if ye took another woman.”
“But I haven’t!” Alex said. “I gave ye a promise, and I swear I haven’t broken it.”
“Another wife might not be troubled by it,” she said, as she folded another gown into a perfect square. “But I told ye I would leave if ye were unfaithful, and I am.”
“Who said something to make ye believe this?” he demanded. “Ye accuse me without even asking me for the truth.”
“So I’ll ask ye,” she said, glaring up at him. “Where were ye last night?”
Ach, the one thing he could not tell her. He had given his word. Besides, Alex was not entirely certain Glynis would think any better of him for covering up a murder and dropping the body at sea. He scratched his neck as he tried to think how best to answer her. It crossed his mind to make up a good story, but he’d promised never to lie to her.
“I can’t say now, but I will tell ye as soon as I can.”
“I thought ye would be quicker with a lie, being such a good storyteller,” she said. “But ye must be tired.”
“I don’t take well to being called a liar.” Alex was starting to get angry himself. “And stop folding your damned clothes.”
“Ye are a liar,” she said, her voice breaking. “I saw ye myself this afternoon.”
“Then your eyes deceive ye.”
“Ye brought flowers to her cottage.”
Alex could not believe what she was accusing him of. “Ye think I’ve taken Ùna to bed?” he said, spreading out his arms. “Why, she’s just a child!”
“Seventeen is no child.” Glynis pressed her lips together and resumed her methodical folding.
It felt like a blow to the chest to learn that Glynis believed he would lure a young lass to his bed who was so fearful of men she could not look one in the eye. After knowing him this long—after living with him as his wife—how could Glynis think so little of him?
“I won’t be here when Ùna brings your child to the castle,” Glynis said, as she slammed a pair of shoes into the chest. “Did ye think I would be happy to care for all your bastards?”
The blood in Alex’s veins went as cold as January ice. “Is that how ye feel about my daughter?”
“Not Sorcha,” Glynis said quickly. “But that doesn’t mean I want a houseful of children reminding me of your infidelities.”
Alex banged the lid of the chest shut with his fist and picked Glynis up by her arms. “I have done nothing wrong, so ye will not leave.”
* * *
Alex sat in the hall drinking. From here, he could see the stairs and be sure his wife did not leave the castle without his knowledge. When Bessie started into the hall with Sorcha, she took one look at him and hurried Sorcha outside. The rest of the household showed the good sense to leave him alone as well.
Outrage pounded through Alex’s head, blocking out all else. He had complied with Glynis’s rules, done nothing to merit her accusations and ill regard. If she came down the stairs looking for a servant to carry her trunk to the nearest boat, they were going to have one hell of a fight.
All Alex had wanted was a peaceful home for his daughter. Was that too much to ask? No shouting matches, just a steady woman who wouldn’t throw crockery—and who wouldn’t abandon them. Instead, he had gotten exactly what he did not want: thrown out of his wife’s bed, fighting and shouting, and his wife packing to leave him. He had spent his entire life trying to avoid living as his parents had, only to end up the same.
Hours went by. Alex heard noise coming from down below and suspected the entire household was crowded in the kitchen between the spits and the worktables eating their supper. And still, Glynis did not show her face. At least she had not attempted to leave.
Alex poured the last of his jug of whiskey into his cup and drank it down. Perhaps Glynis regretted her harsh judgment of him—as well she should. She was a prideful woman. Likely, she was stewing up there, gathering herself to apologize to him.
He deserved an apology.