Page 49 of Devil’s Highlander (Clan MacAlpin #1)

She lay there unmoving, feeling like a broken doll strewn along the wooden planks. Marjorie gave herself a moment to figure out if she’d done any permanent damage.

“Ree!” Cormac tried to jerk away from his brother, but Aidan’s fingers dug into him. Cormac had always been able to take his twin in a fight, but the gun barrel jammed at his temple held him back. “Are you all right? Speak to me, love.”

Pushing to a seated position, she gave him a nod, and it sent pain thrumming up her body. She shifted and gave a roll to her shoulders, realizing her left side had absorbed most of the damage.

“Good.” His relief flipped into anger. “Then tell me, what in hell are you doing here?”

Fingers curled hard into her upper arms as Jack snatched her from the floor. He wrenched her close, and she couldn’t help yelping with the painful shock of it.

“Get off her.” Cormac bucked against Aidan. “I swear to God, I’ll cut off your stones and feed them to the fish. If you harm her, I’ll flay you, and then I’ll—”

The click of Aidan pulling his pistol to half cock stilled him.

There was a gun at Cormac’s temple, and it made her feel outraged and helpless. How could Humphrey be involved in something like this? “What’s happening?” she demanded of her uncle. “Why are you here?”

“Och, Ree,” Cormac whispered. The look of pity on his face would’ve warmed her if it hadn’t also confirmed her suspicions. “I’m so sorry.”

She watched Cormac, saw the machinations on his face. He’d be thinking about simply turning and attacking his brother, despite the gun. “Don’t,” she whispered. Her pride and well-being meant nothing if he got himself killed.

“So touching,” a woman’s voice purred.

Marjorie’s eyes flew to the corner of the cabin, knowing already whom she’d find.

The bailie’s wife stood in the shadows, looking like a Turk in what she imagined was Adele’s lush interpretation of female sailors’ clothing.

The sight of the woman’s smirk made Marjorie ill.

“Why are you here? Would someone tell me what’s going on? ”

“Let Marjorie go,” Cormac said, his voice low with fury. “She has naught to do with this. Let her go, and you can have me.”

“I already have you, MacAlpin.” Grinning, Jack gave Marjorie a shake. “And now I have your wench as well.”

She flailed in the smuggler’s grip. The sensation of utter powerlessness infuriated her.

Humphrey’s sagging cheeks went red. “That wasn’t part of the deal. Let the girl go. You will give me what I’m owed, put us in that . . . that dilapidated craft you keep on deck, and you’ll not see either of us again.”

“ Craft? You mean my captain’s gig? Ach, but that’s the boat I use to get to shore.” Jack paused, feigning consideration. “No, I think not.”

Marjorie tried to stomp on the smuggler’s foot, but he sidestepped her with an amused laugh. She made an exasperated growl, feeling like a trapped animal. “Humphrey! Why are you even with these people?”

“Shut her up,” Aidan growled to Cormac.

“ You shut up.” Marjorie raised her chin high, as though they were ten again.

“You were to stay out of this, girl.” Humphrey’s jowls quivered with exasperation. “Whatever I do, I do for you . So you won’t die a destitute spinster. But like a fox in the henhouse, you insist on hunting for mischief. Always it’s been so.”

It was a side of her uncle she’d never seen, and she flushed red, feeling like a child put in her place. Tears stung her eyes, hurt more by his words than from any of Jack’s pawing.

“You’ll not speak to her that way,” Cormac said, his voice like frost.

“You?” Humphrey pushed his chair back and stood, moving as slowly as a barge out of harbor. “You tell me how to speak to my niece? You’re a dead man.” Even in his anger, he looked befuddled. “I never did trust you MacAlpins . . .”

“Gentlemen, please.” The bailie’s wife sauntered into the fray, going to Jack’s side.

Marjorie coughed from the thick scent of her perfume, a cloying mix of sandalwood and cloves.

Adele distractedly petted at the smuggler, giving a quick twirl to his hair.

“You overestimate your value, Humphrey. Unlike your niece here.” She tweaked Marjorie’s ear.

“I imagine she’ll fetch a fair price, even though I’d wager she’s no longer a virgin. ”

Marjorie sputtered in outrage, flinching away from the other woman’s clutch. “You . . . you wench! You’re a . . . a . . . a nasty, spiteful, hateful virago .”

“Am I indeed?” Chuckling, Adele leaned closer, taunting her. “Such fury, Lady Brodie . Perhaps a honeymoon sail to Barbados with your ‘husband’ will cool your anger.”

Cormac wrestled against his brother, but Aidan pressed the pistol even harder into his temple. The sight of it put ice in her veins.

“What about your husband, Lady Forbes ?” Marjorie asked, her voice level and cool. “Is he involved in this, too?” She shifted her glare to Jack. “I hear three’s the charm.”

Jack nuzzled Marjorie’s neck, inhaling deeply. “Don’t tempt me, luvvie.”

She recoiled with an outraged gasp. “You disgust me.”

“I warned you,” Cormac snarled through gritted teeth. “Get off her.”

Tittering with laughter, Adele traced her fingers along the smuggler’s collar. “When it comes to the finer things, my husband the bailie ”—she smirked with contempt—“is a dilettante. But Jack, here, has more of a sense for women . . . for wealth . . .”

An unearthly groan shuddered the ship’s timber underfoot. Marjorie’s heartbeat kicked up a notch.

“We’re wasting time.” Cormac began to wrestle free, but his twin kept the barrel dug into his skin. “Go to the devil, Aidan,” he sneered at his brother.

“I hear it’s you who’s the devil.” Adele turned a languid gaze Cormac’s way, giving him a sultry wink.

Marjorie jerked against Jack’s grip. His hold on her was the only reason she hadn’t already clawed the witch’s eyes out. “You’re naught but a . . . a . . . harridan , who’s lured my uncle into a web of deceit and disrepute.”

Her uncle huffed with indignation. “Relax, girl. There’s nothing disreputable about it. I’m an investor.”

“Investor?” she asked, perplexed.

“In their plantations.” Humphrey looked away, directing his words to the smuggler. “An investor who’s about to grow very angry indeed, unless I am escorted from this tub posthaste.”

“Investor?” Jack mused, echoing Marjorie. “You’re a so-called botanicals expert, who’d best start proving more obliging. The cane crops are failing. I’m beginning to doubt your competence, old man.”

“The gall of you!” Marjorie exclaimed. Hurt and confused she might be, but nobody insulted her family.

“You’re a saucy chit.” Jack tried to nip at her ear. She smelled him coming, and she ducked her head away.

“Saucy?” Marjorie wriggled an arm free and jammed her hand in her skirts. “I’ll show you sauce.”

Cormac stiffened, his single-minded focus on her, and it felt to Ree as though they were in a pot set to boil over. She decided she’d be the one to raise the heat.

She jabbed the belaying pin hard at Jack’s groin. She missed, but it caught his hip, and he grunted. But then the smuggler only laughed, snatching her weapon from her as easily as a toy from a child.

“A little she-wolf, is it?” Jack flung the pin down and scrubbed his hand up her bodice, groping her. “I enjoy a lass with backbone. Now let’s see how far it can bend.”

Marjorie thrashed like a wild thing, horrified by the unmistakable hunger on his face.

“Leave her be,” Cormac said, rage seething in his voice. “Aidan, let me go, or I swear to you, one of us dies right here, right now.”

The bailie’s wife pulled a tiny lady’s pistol from her stocking and aimed it at Marjorie. “I’ve had enough.”

“A woman’s envy,” Aidan mused. His unconcerned tone infuriated Marjorie more than Adele’s pistol. “Isn’t that one of the deadly sins?”

Adele cocked her weapon. She stood stiffly, arms outstretched in front of her. “Step away, Jack. We’ll take a loss on this one.”

Tension stilled the room. Even Aidan seemed to hold his breath at Cormac’s back.

Marjorie felt the smuggler hesitate, and Adele gestured with the barrel of her pistol. “I said move away. Now.”

Marjorie stared at the bailie’s wife in disbelief. “You won’t shoot me.”

“But I will, chit.”

“You cannot. You will not.” Humphrey stepped in. Disbelief made her uncle’s tone manic. “Jack, control your woman. Think of it. Think of what you lose if the girl gets shot.”

The girl. Marjorie was the girl , and she was about to get a bullet in her chest. The blood drained from her head. It couldn’t be happening.

“Jack can remove the loss from my take.” Adele edged away from Humphrey, getting a clearer line on Marjorie. “Let go of her, Jack. I’m doing this.”

The smuggler flung Marjorie away. As she spun to the ground, her perception of every sight, every sound, grew heightened. There was a deafening crack. Marjorie shut her eyes tight, bracing for it. She sensed Cormac tearing from his brother, leaping toward her.

She hit the ground, and her head whipped forward, hard. Warm wetness splattered on her. She waited for pain to bloom, the pistol shot reverberating in her ears with each pound of her heart. Hesitantly, she took a deep breath in, expecting the sharp stab of a bullet wound.

But nothing happened.

Footsteps stuttered before her. She looked up just as her Uncle Humphrey fell to the ground. His body hit the timber with a disturbing sound, like a rattling exhalation.

She shrieked. The wetness was Humphrey’s blood, she realized. Acid rose to her throat, and she choked it back.

Thick gray-black smoke choked the cabin.

She coughed, and smoke and bile burned her throat.

“Humphrey?” Marjorie scampered to him. She patted at his body, knowing in her head that he was dead but still somehow unable to believe it.

She pulled her hands back, and they were warm and sticky with his blood.

A high keening sound filled the cabin, and she realized it was her.

Adele was shouting now, as was Jack. Marjorie thought she discerned Cormac’s voice, too, but it was hollow, as though he called to her from a distance. “Ree!”

She made out his form just as the smoke began to clear, and then quickly looked back at Humphrey. She curled closer to her uncle. She needed to be right there in case he woke up, in case a decision was made and what had just happened might magically un-happen.

Cormac reached for her. “He’s dead, Ree.”

She looked back down, and her senses aligned, slamming back into place with shattering clarity. A puddle of blood, looking more black than red, surrounded Humphrey’s body. Dead. Her uncle was truly and irrevocably dead.

“No,” Aidan bellowed, and Marjorie gasped at the violent cry cutting through the chaos. Aidan grabbed his twin, snatching Cormac away from her. “I’ve got this one, Jack. You mind the women.”

Caught. Humphrey was dead. Aidan held Cormac at gunpoint. Captured.

Jack had won.

In that moment she knew perfect hatred.