When Glynis snuggled closer, Alex exhaled a breath and closed his eyes. God help him, he wanted her again. Surely, this could not go on. His desire for her would eventually fade, as it did with every single woman he had ever been with.

In the meantime, he would enjoy the present, as he always did. When he tilted her head up with his finger to kiss her, Glynis’s gray eyes searched his, as if she were trying to see into the heart of a sinner.

But this sinner’s heart was buried far too deep for her to find it.

CHAPTER 17

Edinburgh

Glynis held Alex’s arm tightly as they climbed the cobblestoned High Street through the heart of the city. Bells clanked, and carts rattled by her. Edinburgh was a buzzing hive of activity with people hauling goods up and down the crowded streets.

Unlike the Lowlanders scurrying around her like rabbits, Glynis felt as if she had weights on her feet. As soon as they found her relatives’ house, she and Alex would part. She tried telling herself that she dreaded having him leave her because of the uncertainties ahead—but she was never good at lying.

The High Street followed a ridge through the city like the spine of a sitting dog. Between the buildings, Glynis caught glimpses of an enormous fortress rising from black rock above the city.

“That’s Edinburgh Castle,” Alex said, following her gaze.

“Is that where ye are going to meet the regent and your countess?” she asked.

“She’s no my countess,” Alex said in a clipped tone.

Still, Glynis wondered what it was about the Frenchwoman that could draw Alex all the way to Edinburgh to see her.

“The royals find it is too windy and cold up on the rock,” Alex said, nodding toward the castle. “They prefer the comforts of Holyrood Palace, which is behind us at the other end of the city. That’s where I expect to find the regent—and the countess.”

“Ach, it seems wasteful to have two castles in one city,” she said.

“I fear being sensible is no requirement for being royal,” Alex said, and gave her arm a squeeze. “But if the English attack, the royals will run up the hill to Edinburgh Castle, for it is an impregnable fortress. Ye don’t want to be held prisoner there.”

“Is that where they have Donald Dubh MacDonald?” she asked.

Donald Dubh was the true heir to the Lordship of the Isles. As a child, he was held captive by the Campbells, who were his mother’s family. After he escaped from them, the clans united behind him, and he led a great rebellion.

“Aye, they’ve kept Donald Dubh imprisoned in Edinburgh Castle since they caught him ten years ago,” Alex said. “If it was possible to get him out, whether by force or trickery, the rebels would have done it long ago.”

How she would miss talking with Alex and hearing his stories. At night, after they made love, he would tell her tales as enchanting as any bard’s for as long as she wanted. She would fall asleep to the sound of his voice and wake up in his arms. The memory made her eyes sting.

“What is that horrid smell?” Glynis asked, as she wiped her eye with her sleeve. “It’s so foul it makes my eyes water.”

“Too many people living close together.” Alex pointed to one of the many narrow passages off the High Street. “The buildings are ten and twelve stories high on these passageways that they call closes. Everyone living on the close empties their waste out their doors or windows, and it all flows downhill to the loch below. The loch has no outlet, so the filth of the city stagnates there.”

“That’s disgusting,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“Not so disgusting for the wealthy who live near the High Street, farthest from the loch.” Alex paused in his explanation as he guided her around a man carrying loaves of steaming bread on his head. “As ye go down the closes, those who are better off live on the upper floors, while the poorer souls live on the lower ones. The poorest of the poor live on the ground floor at the base of the hill next to the loch.”

“How do they survive it?” she asked.

“If they are born here, I suppose they are accustomed to it,” he said, “just as we islanders are accustomed to the sound of the sea and the feel of the wind in our faces.”

“Will ye be in the city long?” she couldn’t help asking.

“A couple of days. Only as long as it takes to get an audience with the regent.”

It was fortunate Alex would not be staying. Otherwise, she feared she would behave like all the other women he left wanting more. She’d be weak enough to keep watch for him, hoping to meet him in the most unlikely places. And worse, she’d pray he would miss her and seek her out.

Foolish thoughts! Even if Alex remained in the city, she could never risk continuing the affair. She had allowed herself this one wild folly before settling into her life as a spinster.

“Here is St. Giles,” Alex said, as they came to an enormous church on a square.

Alex had asked after her relatives when he boarded the horses at a tavern near the edge of the city. The tavern keeper told them that her uncle, the priest, was attached to St. Giles and lived close by with his sister.

Alex flipped a coin to a dirty boy begging across the street from the church. “Where can I find the Hume family?”

Alex spoke to the lad in Lowland Scots, which Glynis could understand if it was not spoken too quickly. She did not catch half of the lad’s reply, but he pointed down the close behind him.

“He says it’s the one with the red door, just here,” Alex said.

Glynis tightened her grip on Alex’s arm as they turned into the narrow close. The buildings rose so high on either side that only a sliver of the sky showed between them.

“They can’t see the weather coming,” she said, startled by the notion.

“I suppose they don’t need to know, since they neither farm nor sail,” Alex said.

They stood in front of the impressive red door. Instead of knocking, Alex turned and took both her hands.

“Are ye sure ye want to go in?” he asked.

In truth, she was frightened to death to go inside. But what else could she do after traveling all across Scotland to get here? Crawl home in greater shame than the last time?

When she managed a stiff nod, something flashed in Alex’s eyes that she couldn’t read. Concern? Regret? Before she could be sure, he dropped her hands and banged on the door.

*  *  *

There was nothing about the house that should make Alex uneasy, and yet he was.

Clearly, it belonged to a prosperous family, and the serving woman who answered the door was clean and respectful. After Alex stated their business, she led them upstairs to a parlor with costly furniture and tapestries.

While they waited for the serving woman to announce their presence, Alex watched Glynis. She was pale as death.

He turned as a plump, middle-aged woman with a pleasant face entered the parlor. Ach, she looked like everyone’s favorite aunt—the sort who always had a smile and a treat in her pocket for a bairn. She halted just inside the doorway, her eyes fixed on Glynis.

“I did not believe it when Bessie told me,” she said, holding her plump hand against her bosom. “But ye look so much like my baby sister that it’s like seeing her ghost.”

When the woman crossed the room and embraced Glynis, Alex noted the contrast between the aunt’s short, rounded figure and Glynis’s slender, graceful body. He stifled a sigh as he recalled running his hands over Glynis’s long, naked limbs.

“I’m your aunt Peg,” the older woman said, as she dabbed at her eyes. “My husband Henry will be overjoyed to meet ye. And I’ll send a lad over to tell your uncle at St. Giles. After all these years, to finally lay eyes on my sister’s child…”

The woman chatted incessantly, but Alex could see no harm in her.

“Is this handsome man your husband?” Peg asked, turning to him with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Nay,” Glynis said with unnecessary force. “This is Alexander MacDonald. He… and his large party, which included several women, escorted me here.”

“So where is your husband then?” Peg asked. “Surely ye are of an age to have one?”

“I was married,” Glynis said, “but…”

“Oh, my dear, ye have been widowed,” Peg said, her face all pinched with concern.

Glynis threw Alex a desperate glance, and he gave her a slight nod to let her know her secret was safe.

“It seems ye will be well cared for here,” Alex said, and the aunt beamed at him. “With your permission, I’ll leave ye now.”

He went to stand in front of Glynis and took her hands. Though there was nothing more he could do for her, he felt unsettled leaving her.

Despite the panic in Glynis’s eyes, she would be fine. She was the most capable and determined woman he’d ever met. This sweet auntie would prove no challenge for a lass who put a blade into one Highland warrior and convinced another to take her across the breadth of Scotland. In a week’s time, Glynis would have this household running like she thought it ought—and the Humes would be the better for it.

No matter what Glynis believed now, Alex was certain she would end up married again. Any man who wanted a wife would be a fool to pass her by. The next time Alex saw her—if he ever saw her again—she would belong to another man.

“I wish ye happy, Glynis,” he said, squeezing her hands. “Ye deserve it.”

“You as well,” she said, her voice a bare whisper.

Since they were not related, it was not proper for him to kiss her cheek. But when had he cared about propriety? He cupped her face and pressed his lips against the soft skin of her cheek for the last time. Despite the foul city air, her hair still smelled of the pine needles they had slept on the night before.

“I’ll miss sleeping with ye,” he whispered in her ear to make her blush.