AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Cormac rose dutifully, perusing a small stack of books on the side table. It appeared his twin was still doing Marjorie’s bidding, after all these years.
Anya shot Marjorie a relieved look. It’d been meant for nobody else’s eyes. But Aidan prided himself on seeing what he wasn’t meant to see.
Bridget slumped. “Not the Chaucer again. Come now, Anya. Don’t you wish to tell us a story? Just one?”
“I’m just very tired is all,” Anya said. She was a widow at twenty-seven, with a nine-year-old son in her care, who’d recently made the long journey all the way from Argyll, across the length and breadth of Scotland. Aidan imagined she must be tired indeed.
Gregor spoke up, chiding the youngest sibling with his signature easy smile. “She said no, Bridget. So stop your badgering. And besides, you forget I was a cavalryman. ” He shot Anya a wink. “I’m in no mood to hear captains’ tales. ”
Aidan gave his older brother a thoughtful look. So Gregor had also noted their sister’s exhaustion. For all that easy charm, Gregor saw what others didn’t expect him to see.
Declan stumbled in, a book in hand. It seemed his younger brother’s nose was always to be found between the pages.
“Perhaps Deck can read to us,” Gregor said. “What’ve you got today?”
Declan pointed the cover toward him, even though it’d be impossible to read from that distance. “Peloponnesians. ”
Aidan kept his features smooth. Declan had been too young to fight in the Wars, and he longed for battle. Longed to read about it, talk about it, study it. It was all that he’d talked about in the weeks since Aidan’s return. The boy was clearly touched in the head. If he had any real notion of what it was to face his own death, he’d not carry on so about the whole bloody business.
“Oh no, Declan. No. ” Bridget flopped backward with a dramatic flourish. “Not the Greeks again. Cormac, get Sir Gawain down. We haven’t heard that in some time. ”
“Here it is. ” Cormac pulled a yellowed sheaf of papers bound with a leather thong. He tried to hand it to Bridget.
She shook her head, her face alight with excitement. “Oh, no, not me. I’ve just the idea. ” She craned her head, catching Aidan’s eye. “You read it, Aidan! You do have the best voice of any man in the family. ”
She bestowed regally apologetic nods upon the other brothers. Gregor laughed, Cormac rolled his eyes, and Declan didn’t even seem to notice.
He stiffened. “No. I’m not in the mood for reading tonight. Someone else. ”
“Truly, Aidan. Your voice is so gruff, and so manly. With your tanned skin, you’re just like a pirate. So dashing! I want to hear you read the part of Sir Gawain. ”
“I’m not inclined to read just now. ” Not able, more like. He forced the stern line of his mouth into a smile. He’d not let his siblings know his shame.
“Are you shy? You battled, what, smugglers, pirates, privateers … marauders! And you won’t read us a wee story?”
“I’ve no time for this. ” Aidan stood, and with a stiff nod to his brothers and sisters, he left the room.
He didn’t have time for foolishness like reading. He had one goal. One thing alone drove him. He would hunt down the man who’d ruined his life. He was going to find and kill the man with the pearl earring.
He sat on the bed he’d set up for himself in the old guardhouse, staring at his papers. He’d stolen them from a slaver, from a smuggler he’d helped Cormac take down. He knew in his heart that somewhere in that stack of parchment, there was some clue as to his enemy’s identity. But the letters and numbers swam before his eyes, all meaningless loops and lines and dots.
The door opened, and he startled. He quickly shoved the papers under his pillow.
Anya stood there, hovering like a shadow, her pale skin making her seem a ghost of the girl his sister had been. “You can’t read, can you?”
“Must you ask me that?” He bristled, bracing for a fight. He wouldn’t admit to anything. Since his return, his family had clothed him, fed him, tended him as though he were a child. “Haven’t I already suffered enough shame?”
“Easy, brother. There’s no shame in it. ” She came and sat beside him on the bed, the heather-stuffed mattress crackling with the added weight.
He barked out a laugh. “No shame in a grown man not being able to write his own name?”
“I’m your older sister. Don’t forget it was I who sang you songs, I who kissed your scratched knees. Listen to me when I tell you, it’s not your fault. Your childhood was stolen from you, and your education with it. ”
He couldn’t bring his eyes to meet hers, but he sensed her stare, until he felt his face burn.
“Aidan, do you want to learn?”
He thought about the sheaf of papers hidden under his pillow. How would he ever find his enemy if he couldn’t decipher a simple shipping manifest?
