Cormac reached for her. “He's dead, Ree. ”
She looked back down, and her senses aligned, slamming back into place with shattering clarity. A puddle of blood, looking more black than red, surrounded Humphrey's body. Dead. Her uncle was truly and irrevocably dead.
“No,” Aidan bellowed, and Marjorie gasped at the violent cry cutting through the chaos. Aidan grabbed his twin, snatching Cormac away from her. “I've got this one, Jack. You mind the women. ” Caught. Humphrey was dead. Aidan held Cormac at gunpoint. Captured.
Jack had won.
In that moment she knew perfect hatred.
Chapter 37
Marjorie sprang from the body of her uncle, her dress grisly with blood, shrieking like a phoenix rising. The sound pierced Cormac's soul.
She flew at Adele, hitting and scratching, and Jack crowed with pleasure at the sight of the two women grappling like mad cats.
Thankful for all their childhood wrestling matches, Cormac prayed Ree could hold on while he scrambled for a plan. The ship groaned underfoot, followed by the pattering of footfalls and a number of shouts overhead. He wondered if they were coming to a stop. Whatever was happening, he needed it to play out quickly.
Cursing his traitor twin, Cormac nudged his head hard against the pistol barrel. “Go ahead, then, brother. Shoot me if you will. ”
“I warn you, Cormac. Don't test me. ” Aidan let up on the pressure. He leaned close to Cormac's ear and growled,
“I'm as angry as a Campbell. ”
Cormac's eyes widened. A cascade of memories came to him in an instant. Playing Campbell and the Ogilvy fire, playing Campbell and Montrose. As angry as a Campbell. It was a hint.
“A Campbell, eh?” Jack laughed. He was distracted, staring at the women, licking his chops like a hungry wolf.
“Well, lad, you'll be rich as one when we're through. ”
“When you're through,” Aidan whispered in a voice only his brother could hear.
Cormac ducked. Aidan swung his gun and fired, landing a killing wound to Jack's chest. Both brothers coughed the acrid clutch of gunpowder from their chests.
The women froze as the smuggler's body reeled backward, hitting the wall of the cabin. Adele stared in shock for a prolonged moment, then, as understanding dawned, she began howling madly, cursing a frenetic stream of French.
Marjorie dropped, scrambling away on all fours. The ship pitched, and Cormac saw that she was after the belaying pin, rolling erratically along the floor.
Adele turned on him and his brother, her hands extended like claws, with murder in her eyes. “Fils de salope!”
“Ta gueule,” Aidan spat back at once, in a strangely rich accent. Though Cormac had no idea what he'd just said, the contempt on his brother's face said it all.
Marjorie leapt atop the pin and then sprang from the floor, coming at the bailie's wife, swinging wildly. The wood struck Adele's skull with a hollow knock, and the woman fell like a sack of grain, curling into a ball, her head clutched in both hands.
“You killed him!” She flew at the bailie's wife. “You murdered my uncle!” Cormac caught Marjorie, restraining her. “It's all right, love. We've got her. ” He spoke gently, trying to calm her, and gradually she stopped her flailing. “It's almost over. ”
“Cormac… my uncle… “ Marjorie's breath jerked and hitched, and he pulled her closer, stroking and kissing her hair, his voice a steady stream of reassurances.
Aidan watched them with an unreadable and not necessarily warm look in his eye.
“Ahoy!” A voice hailed from above.
Cormac helped Marjorie to stand, his arm wrapped protectively around her.
“Oy,” Aidan called back, loading his pistol.
“What's the racket, then?” someone shouted down the ladder.
The three of them looked at each other. Finally, Cormac called out in reply, “There's been shooting. ”