The Red Drifter of the Sea (Pirates of the Isles #3) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,125

doing them a favor by informing them of Dónal’s—really his own—plan and selling them the weapons instead,” Cormac picked up the story. “In exchange for the O’Malleys staying away from Ballycastle and Rathlin Island, Aidan could continue to use our clan as a place to store his stolen and smuggled goods. But when the O’Malleys never received your dowry, Aidan’s deal fell through.”

“We gave that bastard a roof over his head, a woman under him in bed, and plenty of food,” Beagan grumbled. “He controls all the northern waters on both sides of Ireland. And he thought he could rid his conscience of the guilt he felt about you by no longer seeing you here.”

“Aidan has no conscience,” Moira said. “I was an inconvenient reminder of a failed attempt to manipulate Dónal, a waste of his time and efforts. Do not confuse the two.”

“Aye, well, when Dónal learned that Dermot was dead and you were with the—your husband,” Beagan stumbled. “He made the error of trying to coerce Aidan into attacking your husband and the—your brother-by-marriage. Dónal was too heavy handed and threatened to cease our arrangement with Aidan, which has protected our waters from other privateers. It pushed Aidan around the bend because his deal with the O’Malleys had already fallen through. Aidan remedied the trouble with Dónal the same way the Dark Heart handled Padraig MacAlister. He ran him through without warning.”

“And now you need someone to fill the position of chieftain to make the council look legitimate. Ironically, the only choice was an illegitimate child. You wish for me to return, mind the castle, keep quiet as I used to, and let you go on about your business as you wish,” Moira surmised. “I’m not interested in such an arrangement.”

“Do you wish your husband to become chieftain?” Finnian asked, aghast.

“Oh, no,” Kyle spoke up for the first time. “I have no interest in taking command of this clan.”

“Then what?” Finnian asked before his head pulled back in disbelief. “You, Moira?”

“It’s Lady Moira, and then Lady MacDonnell if I accept,” Moira corrected. “Who maintained the clan’s accounts? Who kept track of everything Aidan brought and took from here? Who ensured there was enough to eat, that the servants and craftsmen were paid, that crofts were repaired in time for winter? Who the bluidy hell do you think suggested that Aidan protect us in exchange for having a place to hide? You know it was none of you, and you know Dónal wasn’t smart enough to think of it, and you know Lizzie never cared enough to. You may think you managed Dónal and this clan. You may think you had control. But you’re a daft lot to never have seen it was me. Why do you think Dónal didn’t want to marry me off for so long?”

Moira looked around the Great Hall, seeing all the things that had been neglected since she left. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms as she waited. The men shifted uneasily but remained quiet. Moira cast them a condescending smirk.

“How have your meals been since I left? I see no one has brought anything out for us. The rushes are filthy, and I can see where the dogs have slobbered and smeared grease into the floor. The hearth is full of soot. That’s just inside. Don’t think I didn’t notice how the laundresses were milling about with nearly no laundry on the lines. I caught sight of the crofts with thatch that needs replacing. You must have had an almighty storm for them to be in such condition, and winter approaches. I noticed the ships bobbing high in the water with nothing in their holds but men cleaning the hulls. That tells me they have been nowhere recently. No trade? All dried up like a witch’s tits.” Moira tossed in the final comment for good measure. She wasn’t keeping her thoughts to herself anymore, unless it benefited her or Kyle. She wasn’t pretending to be meek or ignorant of how men spoke and negotiated.

The council members looked at one another, then at Moira. Eventually, they shifted their gaze to Kyle, suspicion hardening their eyes. He raised his right hand and shook his head while grinning. He was casually leaning back in his chair, but Moira knew the position was deceptive. He was ready to draw his knives and sword the moment he perceived a threat.

“Don’t look at me,” Kyle smirked. “I’m not interested in running this clan. Though for