Then, he intended to marry Fia MacLeod.
Hehadloved Jeannie. He would have done anything to save her life, but she was his cousin, his childhood friend. Dair loved Fia as a woman, his woman, the other half of his soul, and he could not live without her. Perhaps that’s why he’d survived when his crew and his cousin had perished, and why he hadn’t died here, alone on this ship in the storm. Fia was his destiny and his salvation. She was with him during the storm, in his mind and his heart, courageous, bold, and beautiful. She was the strongest, bravest person he’d ever met. He had to get back to her, tell her. True as the North Star, Dair’s love for Fia MacLeod guided him home to Carraig Brigh.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Logan looked around the hall. It was a mess of empty wine bottles, spilled whisky, and drunken men, but the castle had not seen a proper celebration in a very, very long time.
But now there was good reason to celebrate. He was chief, the witch was dead, and the madman was gone. The curse had been vanquished at last.
On the morrow, he’d ride for Edinburgh, join the great lords of Scotland—his peers now—and debate the union with England.
He’d hung Jeannie’s portrait in a place of honor above the fireplace in this room—that had been his first order. He’d had candles set around it, made it a shrine to the Holy Maid of Carraig Brigh. Father Alphonse said mass for her soul three times a day.
Beneath the portrait lay an offering—a charred MacLeod plaid and a rough pelt of bloody white fur. He smiled at the memory of how his clansmen had listened with rapt attention as he told them how he’d foiled the witch’s escape, pierced her through the heart as she rose to curse him, and killed the devil cat along with her. Let Tormod Pyper sing of that!
Logan gazed up at Jeannie’s painted face. How proud she would have been. He imagined the admiration in her eyes, just for him—all the love she only gave to Dair, leaving none for him. He smiled at her, winked at her the way Dair used to, and stood to raise another toast to his beloved sister.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
“Can we sail a ship with only four men?” Niall asked Angus as they gathered supplies on the beach. “What if they catch us? Logan will be watching for trouble.”
Angus looked out across the bay at theLileas,the one remaining Sinclair ship, and dropped a coil of rope into the bottom of the launch, already half loaded with gear. “No he won’t. He’s drunk, and half the clan with him. By the time the whisky’s gone, we’ll be far away from here. They won’t bother to chase us.” He noted the doubt in Niall’s eyes. “Are ye scared?”
Niall straightened his shoulders. “Of course not—just wondering if this is the right way to do things.”
“D’ye want Logan as your chief?” Angus asked. “The lad’s a fool.”
Ruari looked up. “But what if Dair’s truly mad? Is that any better?”
Angus tossed a cask of fresh water into the boat. “He’s not mad. It’s remorse and grief. Ye all saw him the night the chief died. He was clearheaded then, when it mattered. Dair saw things in Coldburn Keep that would crush any decent man’s heart, and Fia MacLeod—” He couldn’t go on.
“She saved him,” Jock murmured. He looked away, blinking back tears. “She didn’t deserve to be branded a witch, or to die the way she did.”
“Nay,” Angus muttered, his chest clenching with sorrow yet again. “I for one will not stay here and do the bidding of bloody Logan Sinclair. I’m going to go and find Dair, if he’s still alive, and bring him back to Carraig Brigh. It was Padraig’s choice that he be our chief.”
“What if he’s dead?” Ruari asked. “Or lost?”
“Or truly mad?” Jock added.
Angus slung another bundle into the boat. “Then I’ll send for my family, keep sailing, and not come back.”
“Da!” Wee Alex’s cry was as high and sharp as a gull’s. Angus shaded his eyes and looked up. His son’s head poked over the edge of the cliff where he was serving as lookout while the men prepared to sail. “There’s a ship!”
Angus turned to look. He saw nothing. He grabbed a telescope and scrambled up the cliff to his son’s side. “There,” Alex said, pointing.
Angus peered through the glass. “What is it?” Ruari asked, panting from the climb. Jock and Niall joined him.
Angus’s breath caught in his throat. He laughed, then he shouted, then he did a wee dance on the edge of the cliff.
“There, lads! I know that ship like I know my Annie’s sweet face. It’s theMaiden. Now I ask ye, could a madman sail out into a storm and back again all alone?”
“Would anyone but a madman even try?” Ruari asked, but he was grinning.
They all linked arms and danced, then Angus rushed down to the boat and rowed out to meet the ship as it came into the bay.
“Ye’re back!” Angus slapped Dair on the back hard enough to knock the breath out of him. “I knew ye weren’t dead. We were just heading out to fetch ye home, but ye’ve saved us the trouble.”
“Where’s Logan?” Dair demanded, leaping out onto the pebble beach, just the way he’d done after a hundred other voyages. He’d always loved returning home, but this time, he was certain he wouldn’t be welcome.
