The Sinner Read Free Page A

tense. “I don’t like the way my father looks.”
    “How does he look to ye?” Alex asked.
    “Hopeful.”
     
    *  *  *
    Alex and Duncan slept on the floor of the hall with a score of snoring MacNeils. At dawn, Alex awoke to the sound of soft footfalls crossing the floor. He rolled to the side and leaped to his feet, leaving his host kicking the empty space where Alex had been lying.
    “You’re quick,” the MacNeil said, with an approving nod. “I only meant to wake ye.”
    “That could have gotten ye killed,” Alex said, as he slipped his dirk back into his belt. “And then I’d have no end of trouble leaving your fine home.”
    Duncan was feigning sleep, but his hand was on the hilt of his dagger. If Alex gave the signal, Duncan would slit their host’s throat, and the two of them would be halfway to their boat before anyone else in the hall knew what had happened.
    “Come for a stroll with me,” the MacNeil said. “I’ve something to show ye.”
    “I could use some fresh air after all the whiskey ye gave me last night.”
    Because it was difficult to discover a man’s true intentions when he was sober, Alex had matched the MacNeil drink for drink far into the night. No doubt his host had the same goal in mind.
    “No one forced it down your throat,” the MacNeil said, as they left the hall.
    “Ah, but ye knew I am a MacDonald,” Alex said. “We don’t like to lose, whether it be drinking games or battles.”
    The MacNeil cocked an eyebrow. “Or women?”
    Alex didn’t take the bait. His problem had never been losing women, but finding a graceful way to end it when the time came—which it always did.
    Alex followed the MacNeil out the gate and onto the narrow causeway that connected the castle to the main island.
    The MacNeil halted and pointed down the beach. “My daughter Glynis is there.”
    Alex’s gaze was riveted to the slender figure walking barefoot along the shore with her back to them. Her long hair was blowing in the wind, and every few feet she stopped and leaned over to pick up something from the beach. Ach, she made a lovely sight. Alex had a weakness for a woman who liked to get her feet wet.
    “Ye strike me as a curious man,” the MacNeil said. “Don’t ye want to know what she truly looks like?”
    Alex did want to know. He narrowed his eyes at the MacNeil. He was more accustomed to having fathers hide their daughters from him. “Are ye not fond of your daughter?”
    “Glynis is my only child by my first wife. She’s verra much like her mother, who was as difficult a woman as was ever born.” The MacNeil sighed. “God, how I loved her.”
    More proof if Alex needed it—which he didn’t—that love led to misery.
    “The other girls are sweet, biddable lasses who will tell their husbands they are wise and clever and always in the right, whether they are or no,” the chieftain continued. “But not Glynis.”
    The younger sisters sounded too dull by half.
    “I didn’t raise Glynis any different, she just is,” the MacNeil said. “If we were attacked and I was killed, the other girls would weep and wail, helpless creatures that they are. But Glynis would pick up a sword and fight like a she-wolf to protect the others.”
    “So why are ye so anxious to see Glynis wed?” Alex asked. She seemed the only one worth keeping to him.
    “She and her stepmother are like dry kindling and a lit torch. Glynis needs her own home. She doesn’t like being under the thumb of another woman.”
    “Or a man’s,” Alex said. “Judging from what I heard she did to her former husband.”
    “Ach, he was a fool to tell the tale,” the MacNeil said with a wave of his hand. “What man with any pride would admit his wife got her blade into his hip? Ye know what she was aiming for, of course.”
    Alex winced. He’d had women weep and occasionally toss things at him, but none had ever tried to cut off his manly parts.
    But then, Alex had never married.

CHAPTER 3
     
     
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