The Red Drifter of the Sea (Pirates of the Isles #3) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,105

none did.

“Or maybe your clan council despises you so much, brother,” Moira stepped forward. “That I didn’t need to bed any of them for them to help me escape.”

Kyle hissed and moved his arm in front of her. Moira wasn’t sure if he did it because he feared she’d barge past him or to shield her from her clan. But Moira was fed up of holding her tongue for the sake of keeping the peace. Dónal’s mouth dropped open as he turned back to look at the men who surrounded him. Kyle seized the break in Dónal’s concentration.

“Run, Moira,” Kyle ordered. Moira pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade and eased backwards until the pirates blocked her from sight. She lifted her skirts and sprinted down the nearest alleyway. She didn’t stop running, even though she didn’t hear anyone call out to her or anyone chasing her. She kept running in the direction of the harbor. Her hood had blown back, and she knew trying to hold it up was pointless, but she wished she could keep any passersby from seeing her face. She didn’t stop running until she reached the far end of the docks. She dove behind a stack of crates that stood beside the end of a warehouse. She would wait there and follow Kyle’s directions. But if she learned Dónal harmed Kyle but had himself survived, Moira would be the one to finish off her brother.

Thirty-Two

Kyle swept his gaze over the men who stood behind Dónal before shifting his eyes back to the chieftain. He’d hated many people over the years; some he’d done grave harm to, and some he’d wished to but hadn’t the opportunity. But the malice he felt toward Moira’s brother was unparalleled. He kept seeing flashes of Moira’s arms when he met her. She’d eventually told him the tale of how she’d grazed her chin, and she’d told him more about how Dónal regularly treated her. Kyle wasn’t sure where his restraint came from, but he wanted to torture Dónal in ways he’d only just thought of for him.

“If you survive this evening,” Kyle called out to Dónal, “It’s only because I haven’t asked your sister if she wants you dead. Though I suspect I know the answer.”

“The chit would likely pish herself before wishing ill on anyone. She hasn’t the mettle to speak up,” Dónal sneered. But his brow furrowed as the men from the Lady Charity laughed heartily. They’d seen Moira’s mettle, and they had heard how she held a knife to the magistrate and bribed him. “What?”

“My brother is right,” Keith spoke up. “You really don’t know your sister. She held the magistrate at knifepoint just this very day.”

“And she drew a blade on me this morning,” Tomas called out. Kyle tucked that piece of information away for when Moira confessed the rest of her sins.

“From the tale Dermot told before I killed him, she not only survived most of a day in a cave, she escaped him, too. Stole his horse and rode off,” Kyle added. He watched as the MacDonnells whispered amongst themselves. He observed Dónal trying to reconcile what he heard about Moira with the sister he thought he knew. Kyle saw he wasn’t convinced.

“Moira may not have argued with you or spoken against you in public, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t have her own thoughts about you,” Kyle continued. “Either you’ve forgotten the lass she was before your mother died, or you never knew. Moira has a deeper sense of duty and honor than you could hope for. She tolerated you for the sake of your clan. But she fucking loathes you.”

“It matters not,” Dónal argued. “That duty and honor demands she return with me. She owes her clan, especially since she ruined the alliance with the O’Malleys.”

“You mean the one your council doesn’t want,” Kyle smirked. “Have you asked no one how Moira got on a ship? Didn’t you wonder why your ship was missing? Someone helped her.”

“Aye. Her two lovers,” Dónal snarled. “Did she tell you about them, too?”

Kyle laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Dónal demanded.

“I’m certain Moira hadn’t been with anyone in some time,” Kyle said offhandedly. “I could tell.”

“You rutting bastard,” Dónal snarled as he lunged forward, but the surrounding men pulled him back.

“I take exception to that,” Keith cut in. “Our parents were married.”

“Son of a bitch, then,” Dónal hurled at the twins.

“That wasn’t wise,” Kyle said. “You don’t speak ill of the dead. And you don’t insult a man’s mother.”