And he was tired of waiting for it. He would go up there now, and they would settle this trouble between them. He marched up the stairs to their bedchamber door and lifted the latch. But when he pushed, the door did not open. He shook the handle, not believing she would do it.
Glynis had barred the goddamned door.
“Glynis!” he shouted as he beat his fist against it. “Open this door to your husband. Now.”
“Go away.” Her voice came faintly through the door.
“Ye will regret this, I swear it.”
Alex never got upset, but he was upset now. Anger pounded through every bone and muscle as he stormed down the stairs, grabbed an axe from the wall, and stomped back up with it.
“Stand back from the door!” he shouted.
Crack! He swung the axe so hard that it reverberated up his arms. Glynis did not scream, proving his wife had ice in her veins.
Crack! Crack! Crack! His violence against the door felt good. When the boards gave way with a satisfying crunch, he reached his arm through the hole and slid the bar back. Then he kicked the door with such force that it swung open and banged against the wall.
And there, sitting on her trunk with her arms crossed, was his wife. He was a wronged husband, an angry man with an axe in his hands, and Glynis glared at him as if she had nothing to fear. She didn’t, of course—but she should have had the good sense to look frightened. Did she not respect him at all?
He crossed the room and stood over her. His chest was heaving, his ears rang. The only sign that an enraged Highland warrior concerned Glynis one whit was a slight twitch in her left eye.
“Ye will not lock our bedchamber door to me again,” he said.
“I told ye,” she said, calm as could be, “I wouldn’t share a bed with ye if ye took another woman.”
“I promised ye I wouldn’t take another woman,” he said, “and I haven’t done so.”
“Ye expect me to believe that?” She stood up, clenching her fists at her sides. “A man like you will say anything.”
“A man like me?” Anger tightened his throat, stretching out his words. “Just what do ye mean by that, Glynis MacNeil?”
“I mean a man whose word means nothing,” she said. “I should have married Lord D’Arcy. He was an honorable man. He would have kept his vows.”
Alex felt as if his head were exploding. Until now, he had believed D’Arcy had told her of his true intentions.
“Perhaps I’ll take D’Arcy up on his offer now,” she said.
“What, and be his whore?” Alex said. “Because that is what D’Arcy was offering ye. He would not have said vows to ye, as I did.”
Upset as Alex was with her, he would not have told Glynis of D’Arcy’s insult even now, except that he couldn’t trust her not to go traipsing off across the breadth of Scotland to find the Frenchman.
“Nay, D’Arcy’s intentions were good,” Glynis said.
“Ye are a fool, woman,” Alex said. “D’Arcy has a wife in France.”
Glynis’s lips parted, and she blinked several times. In a whisper, she said, “That cannot be true.”
Her obvious disappointment cut Alex to the core.
“Aye, your white knight has a wife—probably one who came with a title,” he spat out. “And when she joins him in Scotland, that sense of honor that ye so esteem would require D’Arcy to send ye away. Ye see, he would think it cruel to upset his wife by keeping his whore in his home while she was there.”
Glynis sat down on the trunk with a thump.
“The French don’t treat their bastard children like Highland men do,” Alex continued. “Though D’Arcy might feel honor-bound to provide for any bairns ye had by him, he would never claim your children or allow them to set foot in his home and contaminate his legitimate heirs.”
Alex saw the shock in her eyes, but it was nothing to the well of pain in his chest.
“I have much to answer for in this life,” he said, “but ye are the one who has been unfaithful in this marriage.”
“Me?” she said, slapping her hand against her chest. “I am not the sinner here.”
“Ye kept another man in your heart, Glynis.” He could see that now.
“I didn’t—”
Alex cut her off—he didn’t want to hear her excuses. “My promise was that I would not take another woman so long as ye shared my bed,” he said. “I have needs like any man, and if ye won’t have me…”
He let that hang in the air before he spelled it out for her.
“I know how to please a lass under the blankets,” he said, leaning down close to her. “I’ll have no trouble finding replacements for ye.”
Alex wanted Glynis to lie awake thinking of him with another woman, making her scream with pleasure. He wanted her to regret what she’d done and call him back.
He turned on his heel and left her.
The axe was still in his hand.
CHAPTER 45
After dark, Alex went to the cottage to see how Seamus and Ùna fared. So far as he could tell, they were holding up better than he was. He did not want to sleep in the hall with all his men pretending not to notice that his wife had kicked him out of their bedchamber. So, instead of returning to the castle, he went down to the beach to make his cold bed in the war galley.
As he lay looking up at the stars, Alex could not help thinking about all the nights he and Glynis had slept together outdoors on their journey to Edinburgh. Ach, how had it come to this? He thought his threat to take other women to bed would bring Glynis around. It hurt more than his pride that it hadn’t.
When he awoke in the morning, he sat on the beach staring out at the sea. He had worked hard every day for the last two months, rebuilding the castle, training the men, chasing pirates away from these shores. But he didn’t feel like doing a damned thing today.
He heard a giggle and turned to see his daughter running toward him with her hair flying out behind her. When she crashed into him and flung her arms around his neck, he closed his eyes. At least he still had her. God, he loved this child.
Bessie was breathless when she caught up to her charge. “Sorcha, go to the kitchen and bring your father back some breakfast.”
Sorcha appeared pleased to be entrusted with the task. When she had scampered off, Bessie remained with her feet planted in front of him.
“Do ye want to accuse me of something as well?” Alex asked.
“Nay.” Bessie bit her lip, looking uneasy. “Mistress Glynis would no be pleased to have me tell ye this, but I think ye have a right to know.”
The back of Alex’s neck prickled. “What is it that I have a right to know?”
The woman fidgeted with her hands for a time before she finally spoke again. “Your wife is with child.”
Pain seared through him, blinding him with its force. Glynis was carrying his child, and she had not seen fit to tell him. How long had she kept this from him—and why? Had she been planning to leave him all along?
* * *
“Have ye seen your father?” Glynis asked Sorcha when she came barreling up the steps of the keep.
Sorcha pointed in the direction of the beach.
“Don’t run inside,” she said, and touched Sorcha’s cheek.
Glynis found Alex sitting alone on the beach. When she stood beside him, he did not acknowledge her.
“I am going home,” she said.
“This is your home.”
“I’m returning to my father’s,” she said. “Ye can supply a boat, or I’ll steal one.”
Alex continued staring off at the horizon as he spoke. “Did ye plan to leave and never tell me about the child?”
Glynis sucked in her breath. How did he know about the babe? Although he still did not look at her, she could feel the anger and hurt vibrating off him. Ach, it had been a mistake not to tell him.
“I haven’t known long,” she said in a soft voice. “My fluxes have always been irregular, and I thought I was barren, so I didn’t believe it at first. I wanted to be certain before I told ye.”