Page 46 of Devil’s Highlander (Clan MacAlpin #1)

She’d told him no. Marjorie had refused his proposal, and he’d seen the surety in her eyes.

Cormac upped his pace, thinking of Gregor’s fine chestnut gelding, stabled at the Broad Street mews. He’d make it to the docks faster on horseback. But it was the horse of a wealthy man, and galloping through the darkness, he’d summon every eye in Aberdeen.

Wealth. He’d told Marjorie she deserved a wealthy lord. Was that why she’d balked at marriage? Was the prospect of life with a fisherman not so appealing after all? He frowned. He’d not give the notion a moment’s credit.

She’d been so angry when he’d told her he couldn’t destroy the Oliphant . Surely it was simple anger that drove her refusal.

Because surely Marjorie loved him. She’d told him before that she loved him. God help his cursed soul if she didn’t.

He cursed his soul, wondering why he hadn’t said the words to her sooner. He loved Marjorie more than life, so why hadn’t he told her when he’d first had the chance?

But even as he speculated, he knew why. He was a coward. Losing his brother and then his mother had almost destroyed him, and he’d been afraid he’d get hurt again. So he hadn’t told her of his love—as though, by not saying the words, it might not exist.

Furious with himself, he ran harder through the streets. He might be a fool, but he’d be a coward no more.

He’d convince Marjorie of his love. Sacrificing his blackened soul, if need be—his devil’s soul—to do her bidding. He’d failed those he loved before. He’d not fail now. He would find Aidan. He’d make his brother stop whatever mischief he might be about. For Ree.

And then he’d stop Archie and Jack and whomever in hell else he had to stop to make her happy.

He stood, panting, at the head of the quay, ready to confront a brother stolen from him thirteen years ago.

The moon was bright, and the modest sloop bobbed in a shaft of white light. The Journeyman. Cormac imagined he felt his brother’s presence close by.

“Cormac,” someone said from the shadows along the edge of the pier.

He tensed. The voice was new to him, but something in its timbre struck a chord in his heart. It was Aidan’s voice.

Cormac turned, wondering how it was he hadn’t noticed the figure seated along the dock, feet dangling over the water. Aidan had always been the only one able to sneak past him.

“Is it truly you?” Cormac’s chest tightened with emotion.

Aidan stood, stepping into the moonlight. Even in the dark of night, Cormac could see that his brother’s skin had grown weathered, his tone duskier, with lines about his eyes and mouth. The years had hardened him.

Cormac went to embrace him but stopped. Gone was the playful scamp of their youth. Instead, the man who stood before him had a body scored with the muscle of hard labor, his rigid stance speaking to rage barely contained beneath the surface. “Aidan . . .”

“There’s a name I’ve not heard in some time.” He gave Cormac a hard smile.

It was a type of vertigo, meeting this brother, whom he’d loved above all, as though they were strangers. “What are you called, then?”

“For years, I was simply Boy .” He tilted his head, examining Cormac through slitted eyes. “I thought I’d seen you, you know. Earlier on the dock. But then you were gone, and I thought mayhap you were just a ghost. I live among many ghosts.”

Cormac didn’t know what gulf his twin needed to cross, but he did know that he wanted Aidan back among them, and he’d help him across this final stretch. “I felt like I died when they took you.”

“Funny that,” Aidan said, his tone brittle. “I just about died in truth.”

Cormac swallowed. What had his brother endured, who had he become? He appealed to a different tack. “How long have you been back in Scotland? Why didn’t you try to find us? Why did you not come home?”

“Home? I’ve no home. Scotland is your home.”

Deep inside Cormac, a ten-year-old boy fumed, and he fought the urge to cuff his brother. “Are you angry with me ?”

Aidan shrugged. “You’re right, of course. I have much anger. None of it for you, Cormac.” He stretched out his hand. “Come, let’s meet as brothers.”

As they clasped hands, Aidan attempted a smile, but Cormac could see the uneasy strain of it. His brother cut a quick glance at the Oliphant , and Cormac wondered what he might be hiding.

“Let’s walk from here. We can walk, and you can tell me news of our esteemed family,” he said sardonically. “I imagine Mother didn’t take the whole kidnap nonsense very well.”

Cormac bristled. “Mother died within the year.”

Aidan blinked slowly. It was a simple movement, but a brother knew , and in it Cormac saw a lifetime of pain, of hopes dashed.

“I’m sorry,” Cormac told him. “She loved you too much. We all did. We all do.”

Aidan looked away, casting his face in shadow. “And the rest of them?”

“Father died, too. At the Battle of Dunbar.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, brother mine,” he said with a bitter laugh. “My knowledge of Scottish history isn’t what it should be.”

“Of course. It was 1650 when Da died. A few years after you’d been taken. The others are alive. Anya is wed, and is with her husband in the west. The rest live in Dunnottar.”

“Dunnottar?” Aidan stopped for a moment in astonishment.

“Aye, in the castle there.”

“You jest. Who exactly did Anya wed to win the family such a prize?”

Cormac allowed a grudging smile. “No, ’tis not like that. There’s a jest to be found, but it’s the castle itself. It was nearly destroyed in the wars and tumbles about our ears. I keep waiting for the villagers to kick us out, but nobody seems to have the heart.”

“Dunnottar,” Aidan mumbled again, and then there was a protracted silence.

Cormac was growing impatient with their act. It was too much to make sense of, too overwhelming. But there was one thing he could wrap his mind around, and it was Marjorie, and his sole desire to help her. Thoughts of his goal focused him.

“What are you doing here?” Cormac nodded back to the Oliphant . “Please tell me you have naught to do with those men.”

“I do and I don’t,” Aidan said, a snide grin cocking the corner of his mouth. He stopped walking. “And now I’m afraid I’ll need to cut this reunion short. I’ve got business, and my . . . associates would not take kindly to me having such an extensive parley with a stranger.”

“Wait, Aidan. I need you to stop whatever this business is. For Marjorie.”

Hearing her name, a strange look flashed in Aidan’s eyes. It wasn’t pleasure. “So you finally married that brat, is it?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then how’s it like?” Aidan enunciated each word with disdain.

“We’re not married. Ree’s grown into a good woman.”

Aidan rolled his eyes. “I’ll bet she has.”

Cormac stepped close. “You’ll mind your tone where Marjorie is concerned.”

Aidan exploded into laughter. “Some things never change. Last I saw you, you were in my face about Marjorie. And here you are now, thirteen years later, in my face.”

Cormac panicked. He’d fantasized for years how their reunion might be, and it was not this.

He didn’t understand why it was going so awry.

“Please, Aid. Let’s just start this over.

Marjorie works with the poor now. With young boys.

She felt your kidnap quite keenly. And now she’s come unhinged at the thought that more will be stolen from our shores.

That Jack you deal with . . . he’s a smuggler of children. ”

Cormac waited, hoping for an outraged reaction at that last revelation.

“Aye,” Aidan replied instead. “I know it.”

Cormac scowled. He didn’t know the extent of what his brother had endured these past years.

He thought of all that’d transpired in his own life, knowing he was not one to pass judgment.

He could only try to make Aidan understand.

And if he refused to understand, Cormac would make certain his brother didn’t stand in his way.

“Marjorie wants these men stopped. I plan on being the one to stop them. And I’d ask that you’re far from the Oliphant when that comes to pass. ”

“Still saving Marjie, eh?” Aidan sneered. “I’ve my own objectives to attend, Cormac. My own ghosts to chase. And they don’t have to do with you, or your Ree , or any of your callow concerns.”

Conflicting emotions roiled within Cormac. Reuniting with his brother should’ve been a joyful event. And yet he couldn’t help but feel he wasn’t entirely happy to see Aidan, particularly under these circumstances.

Aidan turned, hunched from the cold and with hands in pockets. Cormac watched as his twin walked away from him and back into the night.