The Devil of Clan Sinclair (31 page)

She pushed a bobbing crate out of her way, treaded water for a few moments to get a second breath. The chloroform was making her light-headed, or maybe it was the sudden, exhilarating freedom she felt.

Still, she had to pace herself. She was out in the middle of the harbor and had to swim to the pier. Pausing a moment, she thought she heard her name being called and started swimming again. She wasn’t out of reach of the ship. Someone could lower a boat and Paul could come after her.

Debris floated in the harbor: oranges and pieces of something green, shards of wood not yet waterlogged. A tankard floated by, as if a sailor had simply finished his measure of grog and pitched it into the sea. She didn’t like seeing the hulls of the ships coated with barnacles and green slime disappearing into the murky water. Nor could she abide the smell of fish.

Her legs cramping, she rested again, floating on her back. The distance hadn’t seemed so far before. Now it looked almost unattainable. She told herself she could reach the dock. All she had to do was concentrate on swimming, then resting, then swimming again.

At the closest pier, fishing boats clustered like nursing puppies suckling at their mother. All except one ship, larger than most, nearly the size of the one she’d escaped.

The teak figurehead caught her attention. A woman emerged triumphant from the waves, arms thrust behind her, her smile joyous and free, the face a duplicate of her own.

She started to cry.

He’d said the figurehead resembled her. He hadn’t said how magnificent it was.

Something was coming in her direction, splashing furiously. Not a something after all, she then realized, but a person, someone who knew her name. Was the chloroform giving her hallucinations? Suddenly, she saw it was Macrath, fully clothed and swimming toward her.

When he reached her, she stretched out her hand to cup his jaw, then pressed her fingers against the frown on his forehead.

“Are you really here?” she asked.

“I’m really here, but I might ask the same of you.”

Macrath turned, shouted something at the ship looming nearby, and a rope slapped into the water. Pressing her hands around it, he moved behind her, guiding her toward the hull. She didn’t like ships. She didn’t like the ocean, either. Did he know that?

It seemed like he did.

“You can swim,” he said. “You would have saved me some bad moments there if I’d known. Why do you hate the ocean yet know how to swim?”

“My father insisted I learn,” she said, “since we lived so near the Hudson.”

“Well, thank God for your father, then, and I’d never thought to say that.”

What a foolish reason to weep again. Truly, it was the chloroform.

“There’s a ladder,” he said. “Can you manage it? If not, I can carry you on board.”

She turned to face him, still treading water.

The sight of Macrath, hair slicked back, his blue eyes intent, was the most stirring thing she’d ever seen.

“You’re very handsome,” she said. “Have I ever told you that?”

“You might have. Shall I return the compliment? Or concentrate on getting out of the harbor?”

“How did you know I’d be here?” she asked. “Hannah told you,” she said before he could speak. “How is she? You really must arrange to have Paul Henderson arrested. He struck her viciously.”

His fingers traced her bottom lip and she winced. “Did he strike you, too?”

“Can we stop the ship? Or send word to America? He can’t be allowed to go around doing awful things to women.”

He didn’t answer, but his face changed, became the stern Macrath she’d heard about but rarely seen.

“You’re very fierce with your expression. I’m not afraid of you, though. I never was.”

“Good. I don’t want you to be. Henderson’s another matter.”

She contemplated the thought of Macrath pummeling Paul again, and realized the idea didn’t disturb her at all. When she said as much to him, he smiled.

“Can we continue this conversation once we’re on deck?”

She looked up at the ship, and didn’t like the fluttery feeling in her stomach when she saw how far up she’d have to climb.

She could reach out now and touch the hull, but would much rather have just swam to the pier.

What a pity she couldn’t simply decide to be courageous and everything might be magically easier. She would have to work on overcoming her fears, starting right now.

She turned, kissed his mouth softly, given her swollen lip, then forced herself to face the rope ladder stretching straight up into the sky.

As she gripped the first rung, it occurred to her that she was already brave. She’d given birth nearly alone, stood up to Enid, come after Elliot, descended a cliff, stood her ground with Macrath, and jumped from a ship.

What was a silly ladder?

“You have to look away,” she said. “I’m nearly naked. I’ve only my shift on.”

There was that severe look again. She had the feeling Paul Henderson should go somewhere very far away, where Macrath couldn’t find him.

Chapter 33

V
irginia stood at the ship railing, staring at the
Oregon
as the vessel entered Moray Firth.

Macrath studied her silently. Even here, hair slicked back and drying in the warm salty breeze and wrapped in a blanket, she was the most captivating woman he’d ever known.

And perhaps the most troubled.

He wanted to erase the last day from her mind, but he couldn’t. He wanted to take all the pain from her memory, but he couldn’t do that, either. All he could do—and he had every intention of doing it—was remain at her side and give her comfort and support whenever she needed it.

The crew of the
Princess
kept their gaze away from her. He wore borrowed clothing, but at least it was dry. She didn’t have that luxury, though the blanket covered her well enough. He didn’t want to think of how she’d appeared on the deck of the
Oregon,
nearly naked and fleeing from Henderson.

If he could have pummeled the man again, he would have.

“I’ve sent Jack to Drumvagen,” he said. “He’ll send the carriage back for us. As soon as I’ve spoken to the harbormaster, we’ll go home.”

She nodded but didn’t turn or look at him, and when she spoke, it was almost like she addressed the scene before her.

“Will they send a ship after the
Oregon
? Will he be arrested?”

He wished he had a good answer for her. The fact was, once the other ship was out to sea, the harbormaster had no influence. The captain was law. Boarding the ship would be tantamount to declaring war on the
Oregon.

“They’ll send word to America,” he said. “That would be the most practical thing to do.”

“But it doesn’t mean they’ll arrest him, does it?”

“No.”

She took a deep breath. “It’s a great deal of water, isn’t it? Some of it is very deep. I imagine you could drown easily there.”

“You could drown in a lake, a river, or a basin as well,” he said.

She nodded. “With the aid of a madman you could find a great many ways to die, none of which you’d expect.”

He stood beside her, his hands on the rail, so close he could move his little finger and touch her. He didn’t, however, feeling like these moments were poignant and profound in a way he didn’t completely understand.

“I was never afraid of the river near my house, isn’t that strange?”

“Had you ever seen the ocean?”

She nodded. “I had. But I hadn’t loathed it as much as when we traveled to England. Maybe it wasn’t the ocean I feared as much as a new life. Or maybe it was both. I don’t like the dark, either. Or heights.”

“I remember,” he said. “But you acquitted yourself well on a rope ladder.”

She didn’t smile or otherwise acknowledge his comment. She turned to face him, keeping one hand on the railing.

“I want to overcome all my fears. Otherwise, Alistair will be afraid as well.”

“I don’t think we teach children our fears as much as our limitations,” he said. “My father never wanted to succeed in a grand way with his newspaper and printing business. He didn’t want to have an empire.”

“But you did. I wonder why.”

He smiled, as fascinated by her questions as he’d always been. “Because doing so challenged me? Because I wanted to be someone I wasn’t?”

“I can’t get over Paul killing Lawrence,” she said, having already told him of Henderson’s confession. “I feel responsible.”

“You probably were.”

She glanced at him, her eyes widening.

“I’m certain you were there, encouraging him, helping him hold down the pillow.”

She frowned at him. “You know I did nothing of the sort.”

“However, you insist on taking responsibility for a murder you didn’t even know about until a few hours ago.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping forward. “It does sound idiotic, doesn’t it? Still, if Paul hadn’t had an obsession with me, Lawrence might still be alive.”

“But Alistair wouldn’t be, or hadn’t you considered that?”

She shook her head. “No, I hadn’t.”

“I don’t want to build our happiness on top of someone else’s misery. Or death. So don’t claim responsibility for something you didn’t do, Virginia. Henderson decided on his own to kill Lawrence. He decided, on his own, to come after you. None of those actions were your doing.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Now, let’s address you calling our son Alistair,” he said.

“It’s all your fault. He’s begun to look like an Alistair, don’t you think? All prideful and Scottish.”

“It could be his American half,” he said.

He pressed his lips against the worst of the scars on her upper cheek, near her eye. They were tangible reminders of how close he had come to losing her forever. He would never have known if he hadn’t gone to London, if he hadn’t pushed his pride down, out of the way.

Moments such as these were rare, when the world stilled around him, when it felt like he commanded time. He wanted this moment to last, to pull on each second until it stretched. Could he freeze the minutes? Could he hold them, frozen, in his hands and offer them to her?

She pulled away, staring out to sea again.

Was she thinking about what Henderson had done to Lawrence? Or what he’d done to her?

She’d been at the mercy of the man.

She’d been at his mercy, too.

“I’ve handled this all wrong,” he said, stepping back. “You should remain at Drumvagen because you want to, not because I’ve forced or charmed you into it.”

She spoke without glancing at him. “So now you’ll let me return to London, but without my son.”

“You can take Alistair with you.”

She gripped the railing tight enough he could see her knuckles whiten.

“You would let us go?”

“Yes.”

Did she realize it would nearly kill him to lose either of them?

“I want you to stay, but I can’t compel you to do so. I could tell you that you’ll learn to become a Scot. Or that Drumvagen isn’t nearly as isolated as you think. Or I’m wealthier than you realize.”

“It was never about money, Macrath. Don’t you know that?”

“Then what was it? A title?”

“A family,” she said, surprising him.

Turning, she faced him. “I didn’t have a choice about coming to England. What my father decreed was law. I was to simply acquiesce without a word spoken. I found myself married to a stranger, a man I grew to dislike intensely.”

She clasped her hands together.

“Yet he had a family. Two sisters who embraced me warmly. I grew to love Eudora and Ellice as dearly as the sisters I never had.” Her smile was barely a curve of her lips. “I feel the same about my mother-in-law, even though Enid occasionally makes me want to scream. She and my father negotiated my marriage settlement. Lawrence retaliated by beggaring us all. He spent my father’s money, all my inheritance, on properties that would go to his cousin.”

He’d learned that from Hannah, but hadn’t realized that Virginia had felt responsible for saving all of them.

“So coming to Scotland and getting yourself with child was the plan.”

She nodded. “At the time, it seemed like the only thing to do.”

“Did you never think of the consequences of your actions?” he asked. “That you brought a child into the world who would never know his father?”

She glanced away, then back at him. “No,” she said. “I thought about a child in an abstract way. I didn’t think he would be Alistair and I would care more for him than myself. I didn’t know I’d feel guilty from the day he was born.” She hesitated. “How did you know he’d been born?”

“I didn’t come to London for Alistair,” he said. “I didn’t even know about him until I reached your house.”

She bit at her bottom lip. What words did she bite back?

“Why did you come to London, then?”

“That was our destination,” he said.

There, a partially true answer, one sparing him somewhat. He needn’t confess he’d thought of her endlessly. Why tell her he saw her face when he stared at the night stars? That the surface of the ocean seemed to reflect her smile, and the sigh of the winds her gentle whisper?

“So you decided to visit me.”

“I thought of nothing else for the last year,” he said, abruptly deciding to expose himself.

Let there be nothing but the truth between them now, since there had once been an important lie.

“If we’d been destined for somewhere else, I would have come to London for you. I wanted you enough to beg. I wanted you to marry me and come back to Scotland with me.”

She didn’t look at him, concentrating instead on her clasped hands. Her head was bent, and he wanted to place a kiss on the nape of her neck, ease her back against him and hold her. Would he always feel empty without Virginia in his arms?

He had won at everything he’d touched.

He’d never won at her.

Perhaps love wasn’t about winning or losing. Perhaps it wasn’t a game or war at all. If you were lucky, you found someone who made you think and laugh, with whom you wanted to spend your hours. If you were truly fortunate, loving that person changed you, made you better, softened your rough edges and fueled your ambition even further.

Dear God, but he loved her. He loved everything about her, from the way her nose wrinkled when she was reading to her habit of touching him on the arm while speaking.

When he entered a room, she stopped what she was doing, sending him a smile that made his toes curl.

How could he live without her?

“Stay with me,” he said. “Stay at Drumvagen and make it your home. If I need to travel, you can go with me. You and Alistair.”

“They’re depending on me.”

“Your London family?”

She nodded.

“So, you intend to let the lie continue?”

She surprised him by shaking her head. “I can’t. Because you’re my family, too. More than anyone else.”

He hated the worry in her eyes.

“I have a solution,” he said. “Tell them to come to Drumvagen. Tell them all to come. They’ll be part of our clan. Anything they want, they can have.”

“You would do that?” she asked, her eyes widening.

“I would do anything for you, Virginia. Don’t you know?”

“Enid is beyond stubborn, and insists on her own way. She’s used to having her own household and it wouldn’t be an easy transition.”

“I can’t wait for her to butt heads with Brianag.”

A look of amusement lit Virginia’s face, curving her lips and banishing the sadness. “Oh, dear, it will be a war, won’t it?”

“And Ellice? What is she like?”

“Young,” she said. “Untried and unformed, like I was at her age.”

“I would have liked to have known you then,” he said.

“I’d have shown you Cliff House. All my little secrets. The place in the woods where I hid from my governess, and the attic window looking out over the Hudson.” She glanced away. “I’m sorry it was sold. It was such a lovely place. I wish Alistair could have seen it.”

He would buy it for her as a wedding present. They’d travel to America to inspect it, and while he was there, he’d make inquiries into Henderson’s whereabouts.

When he reached for her, she stepped away, shaking her head.

“Your man will have to offer Hannah marriage,” she said. “Hannah’s a good person. She’s not the type to be trifled with.”

“Jack?”

She nodded. “Jack. Nor will I stay at Drumvagen without marriage.”

He stared at her, disbelieving. “What do you think I meant? Bloody hell, Virginia, I’ve been courting you.”

She blinked at him. “Have you?”

“I gave you a book of poetry. I gave you gifts. I designed a rose garden.”

Her cheeks flushed.

He wrapped his arms around her, intent on getting this right. “I love you, Virginia Anderson. You occupy my mind. I smile, thinking of your laugh. I want you as my wife. Is it plain enough for you now?”

She glanced away. Every time she got that look on her face, he was greeted with news he didn’t like.

“I promised myself I’d always tell you the truth,” she finally said. “Even the little bits. I should have written you about Alistair. I knew what I was doing was wrong.” She stared down at the deck, then took a deep breath. “But I don’t regret those days with you. I don’t think I ever could.”

He gently turned her face up. “I would have come to you the minute I heard of your husband’s death. You came, instead.”

She smiled, a strange expression given the one solitary tear that fell down her cheek. He swiped at it with a finger, cupped her face in his palm. She held his happiness in her glance, his future in her answer.

“Will you be stay with me, Virginia Anderson Traylor? To be my wife, my love, and my friend?”

“I haven’t told you the whole of it yet,” she said. “I came to Drumvagen because I couldn’t bear staying away. A year was decades long without seeing you. A defect of my character, to be in love with one man and married to another.”

“Do you love me?” An eternity of seconds passed before she answered.

“Oh, Macrath, I love you with all my heart and parts of my soul.”

When he would have pulled her into his embrace, she shook her head, her smile fading as well as her tears. Her face was still, her lips thinned, her eyes direct.