The calmness of the loch had provided a brief respite, but as he made his way back to the castle, Aiden was acutely aware that the unresolved conflict with Katie and the burdensome expectations of his family were far from over.
“Ah, there you are…” came a familiar voice—a voice he didn’t know he’d needed to hear at exactly that moment.
“Aye, Malcolm, perfect timing…”
“Nae so perfect, I’m afraid,” his friend admitted, sitting on a nearby rock. “Ye’ve been fightin’ just as much on land as you were at sea, Braither. What is the trouble?”
“Where do I even begin?”
CHAPTER 9
As the sundipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, Aiden sat by the edge of the loch, still dripping from his swim. He was mostly naked, save for the thin linen shirt clinging to his damp skin. The cool breeze chilled him, but it did little to slow his racing thoughts.
Malcolm sat beside Aiden, their legs dangling over the rocky shore, and passed him a flask. “What’s really botherin’ ye, Aiden?” His voice was casual, but his eyes were sharp with concern.
Aiden took a swig from the flask, feeling the burn of the whisky warm him from the inside. He exhaled deeply, staring out at the still waters of the loch. “’Tis complicated, Mal.”
Malcolm chuckled, giving Aiden a playful shove. “Complicated, ye say? We’ve faced storms at sea, pirates, and God kens what else. Ye faced those head-on. This cannae be that bad.”
Aiden shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Ye’re too smart for yer own good, sometimes.”
“Nay, I’m just yer braither. And ye cannae fool me.” Malcolm grinned, his gaze steady. “So, out with it.”
Aiden hesitated, then stood up and slipped his breeches and boots back on. The damp fabric clung to his legs as he moved, but the whisky eased the discomfort. He took another long sip before handing the flask back to Malcolm.
“I dinnae like her,” he finally admitted, his voice low.
“Who? Katie?” Malcolm’s eyebrows shot up in mock surprise, returning the flask after taking a sip. “Ye’ve never wanted anythin’ more, from what I’ve seen.”
Aiden groaned as he took the flask, rubbing a hand over his face. “’Tis nae like that. I dinnae like how desperate she is for a husband. It feels… wrong.”
Malcolm laughed, a hearty sound that echoed across the loch. “That’s how women are, Aiden. They’re raised to find husbands.”
Aiden’s expression darkened, his voice taking on a sharper edge. “Katie’s nae like that. She’s in a precarious position. Her choices are limited.”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow, leaning back on his hands as he considered Aiden’s words. “Then send her away. Let her faither marry her off to someone else.”
Aiden’s grip tightened on the flask before he thrust it back into Malcolm’s hand with more force than necessary. “And ye think that’d solve everythin’? The thought of her with someone else… it drives me mad.”
Malcolm’s grin faded as he studied his brother’s face, instantly grasping the depth of Aiden’s feelings. “Aiden,” he said quietly, “ye care more than ye want to admit.”
Aiden sighed heavily and ran a hand through his damp hair as he tried to find the right words. “Mayhap. But the thought of Katie… of her bein’ bound to someone else… it twists somethin’ inside me soul.”
Malcolm nodded slowly, the seriousness of the situation settling between them. “So what’s the real problem, then?”
Aiden’s face hardened again, his expression closing off. “The problem,” he muttered darkly, “is that I dinnae deserve her. And the fact that I want her as much as I do… it only makes things worse.”
Malcolm studied his brother-in-arms and sensed the burden Aiden carried, but he knew better than to push him further. The sun had nearly disappeared below the horizon, casting long shadows over the loch as the two men sat in silence, each lost in their shared past.
The ship’s timbers creaked and groaned under the relentless waves as Aiden stood at its bow, the salty sea spray stinging his face. The wind whipped through his hair, carrying the acrid scent of brine and sweat. The Caribbean sun beat down on the deck, turning the wooden planks beneath his feet into a searing griddle. TheStormbreakerhad been his home for nearly two years. It was a floating hell he had learned to endure.
Aiden’s mind drifted back to when he had first earned the favor of Captain McTavish, a seasoned mariner with a scarred face and a heart as hard as the iron cannons that lined the ship’s deck. The captain had recognized something in Aiden, a cold efficiency that made him invaluable during the brutal raids along the African coast.
Aiden had proven himself time and again, capturing slaves and dealing with them with a detachment that chilled even him. It was a dark stain on his soul, a memory that haunted him, especially now when he thought about how it had shaped the man he had become.
It was during those raids that Aiden met Malcolm. The younger man had been hired as a deckhand, barely old enough to shave, but with a spirit that had not yet been broken by the sea. Captain McTavish had ordered Aiden to train the boy, a task Aiden took on with reluctance. He was quite aware that he was disliked by many of the crew. He had risen through the ranks quickly, tooquickly for some, and there were murmurs of resentment among the men.
Their first meeting had been far from friendly. Malcolm had been nervous, green and eager to prove himself. Aiden, cold and distant, had pushed him hard, harder than any of the others. He saw too much foolishness and recklessness—an innocence that was better crushed quickly before the sea did it for him.
