The Campbell Trilogy

by Monica McCarty

  “But …”

  “But what, Caitrina?” he said harshly, finally looking at her. “Is this not what you wanted?”

  The stricken look on her face hit him square in the chest. He took a deep, ragged breath and forced himself to look away. I need to get the hell out of here. It hurt too damn much. Hurt to know how much he loved her, but that it wasn’t enough. She was grateful now, but he didn’t want her gratitude. He wanted her love and trust—her heart and soul. He wanted her to believe in him. He’d never cared what anyone thought … only her. He turned to leave.

  “Please, don’t go.” His heart jerked when she pressed her tiny hand on the sleeve of his doublet. “It’s not what I want.”

  “Maybe not now,” he said roughly. “But what about the next time we disagree or my duty requires something of which you do not approve? What then, Caitrina?” He couldn’t bite back his anger. Her lack of faith and quick dismissal of his love were not easily forgiven, but it was her response that had truly shaken him. “Will you send me away again?”

  “God, I’m sorry, Jamie. I should never have given you an ultimatum like that. I was wrong to try to bargain with your feelings for me. I know that. But I was so scared at the thought of losing my brother … I didn’t know what else to do. Can you not understand that?”

  Aye, he supposed he could. Hell, he admired her passion, her openness, the unconditional loyalty and love she felt for her family. He just wanted it for himself. Nor did it lessen the sting of the moment when she’d cast him and his love aside.

  He heard a sound and looked down. Damn. Not the tears. He could take just about anything but the tears. His hand itched to wipe them away, his arms to give her comfort, but he forced them to his side.

  “What if it were your sister?” she said softly. “Would you have been so understanding if the situations had been reversed?”

  His gaze shot to hers. His mouth clenched; he might be willing to concede her point, but not all of it. “No, I wouldn’t have,” he admitted. “But I wouldn’t have asked you to choose.”

  “Didn’t you? It felt like you were asking me to choose between my brother and you. Maybe if you’d told me of your plans, but I had to find out from the servants what you intended.”

  He grimaced. She was right. He was used to making decisions on his own. “I’m sorry for that. Perhaps I should have explained more. But why are you always ready to believe the worst of me?”

  “Years of practice. I realized it would be difficult marrying a Campbell, but when I realized I loved you, I thought that would be enough. It isn’t. Old tensions are not just going to die because I want them to, it will take work.”

  Her insight surprised him. He couldn’t expect her to cast aside her prejudices just because she loved him. “What are you saying?”

  He could see her hands stiffen at her side. “I want to know everything about you, Jamie. And if that means getting to know your cousin, I’m willing to try.”

  Jamie stilled, completely shocked. “You’d do that for me?”

  She nodded. “I do have faith in you. It wasn’t until your cousin tried to trick me that I knew how much. But it was always there.”

  He felt a crack, hearing the vulnerability in her voice and wanting desperately to believe her.

  “I made a mistake,” she continued. “And I’m sure I’ll make more. But you hold those around you to a very high standard.” He tensed, knowing she was referring to his brother. “I need to know that you’ll be able to forgive me.”

  He felt the stirrings of a smile. “Are you saying that I can be rigid and uncompromising?”

  Her mouth twitched. “Maybe a little.” They shared a moment of understanding before her expression shifted again to one of earnestness. “I love you, Jamie. You brought happiness and love back in my life when I never thought to feel that way again. I was wrong to think I could ever make you choose between your loyalty and duty to your clan and to me when they are the same. I’ll never do so again. Knowing that I have your love is enough.” Her voice lowered to a shaky whisper. “If I still have it.”

  She lifted her face to his. “Do I still have it, Jamie? Please, tell me it’s not too late for us.”

  Her mouth trembled, and his resistance shattered. His thumb wiped the dampness from her cheeks as he looked deep into her eyes. He’d hardened himself to a future without her, but he was relieved not to have to face it. “Aye. You have it, lass. You’ve always had it.”

  A smile broke through the tears. “Then that is all that matters. You have my love and loyalty forever. I vow to never doubt you again.”

  Jamie arched a brow. “Never?”

  She bit her lip. “Well, hardly ever. And not about anything important.”

  He laughed and pulled her into his arms. It was good enough.

  Caitrina lay in bed, luxuriating in the warmth and security of her husband’s embrace. She nestled her naked backside against him, wiggling closer when he lightly squeezed the breast that he held cupped in his hand.

  “You’re an insatiable wench,” he murmured against her ear, and the warmth of his breath at her ear sent shivers of desire down her spine that she would have thought impossible after their vigorous lovemaking of just moments ago. “I need my rest.”

  The hardening against her buttocks belied his words. She circled her hips against him. “Liar.” He groaned, sliding his hands down her belly to between her legs, cupping her in his deft hand. “I’ve been thinking,” she said, pressing her hips against his hand.

  “So I gather.”

  “Not about that, you wretch.” She tapped him playfully on the arm but admitted to a certain curiosity about their current position.

  His mouth trailed hot kisses down her neck and nape that made her body soften all over again with the tingly rush of pleasure. He kissed her harder as he pinched her nipple lightly between his fingers. “About what?”

  Her eyes opened. “You’re trying to distract me.”

  “Hmm.” He kissed her shoulder again. “Is it working?”

  God, yes. She could feel the round head nudging between her legs from behind as his finger dipped inside her. Her head fell back against his shoulder as his deft stroking brought her to the very brink of yet another torrential storm of pleasure.

  Heat poured through her veins, heavy and slow, as he brought her hips back so that her back arched gently to position himself at her opening. She teased him mercilessly, rubbing him with the dampness of her own body but not taking him in. The sensation was incredible, his erection so big and thick between her thighs. She could tell from the harshness of his breathing that her teasing was driving him wild.

  Finally he grabbed her hips and gently pushed inside her, stretching her, filling her. She moaned at the sensation. God, what wickedness. His hands were on her breasts and between her legs, caressing her as he drew in and out with long, slow strokes—letting her feel every inch of him. The pleasure that gripped her was indescribable.

  He pressed her back tightly against his body and thrust up high inside her, holding still. She gasped at the incredible sensation as her body tingled around him, as the tremble of release built. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer, he slid a little deeper, holding her tight against him until she came apart in a slow, intense shattering that seemed to go on forever. He thrust high inside her again, bringing her hips against him hard in rapid succession as he cried out his own release.

  Well after the last shudder had faded, she remembered what she’d been about to say before he’d so effectively distracted her. “You let him escape, didn’t you?”

  He went still behind her for a second, but it was confirmation enough. “Why do you say that?”

  “You would never allow a prisoner to slip away.”

  “Your confidence in my skills is flattering, but I assure you I’m not infallible.”

  She snorted. “Tell me the truth.”

  He shrugged.

  “But why? Did you have second thoughts
about what your cousin would do?”

  “No. Argyll wouldn’t have liked it, but he would have kept his promise. I just made it easier on him by giving your brother a choice.”

  Caitrina couldn’t believe it. “You mean Niall chose to be an outlaw rather than return to Ascog? But why would he do that?”

  “I think he had other things he needed to do,” Jamie said gently.

  Caitrina swallowed. Because of what had happened, she realized. The fight had become personal, and Niall would never rest until someone had paid for what had been done to the woman he loved. Her heart broke for him, even as it did for herself.

  “He loves you, Caitrina. I know it wasn’t an easy decision.”

  She smiled, hearing the concern in her husband’s voice. “I know, but thank you for telling me.” As much as she wished Niall had chosen to return to Ascog, as much as she wanted to hold on to him and protect him, he had to make his own decision. But she also knew what it meant: Niall was an outlaw, lost to her and their clan probably forever. “He will never be able to take his rightful place as chief.”

  “Aye. Brian will be the next chief—when he is ready. I will hold Ascog for him until then.”

  She didn’t know what to say. “You would do that?” Brian had the makings of a good chief, and under Jamie’s tutelage and guidance, she knew he would grow to be a great one.

  He nodded. “It’s rightfully his.”

  “And Argyll?”

  He grinned. “My cousin doesn’t like to lose land, but in this case he agreed.”

  But there was one thing that she still didn’t understand. “Why did you do it, Jamie? Why did you decide to let Niall go?”

  He leaned up on his arm so he could look into her eyes. “Justice.”

  “And justice would not be served here at Dunoon?”

  “Not in this case. The law will not help your brother.”

  She lifted an eyebrow, surprised to hear such blasphemy from his lips. “Is not the law the same as justice?”

  “I thought it was.”

  “But now you don’t?”

  He grinned and dropped a soft kiss on her mouth, lingering for a moment before lifting his head. “I think there may be some room for interpretation. A wee lass once accused me of being driven by the past.” By Duncan. “It turns out there might have been an element of truth to her assessment.”

  “Oh, really?”

  His mouth quirked. “Perhaps a bit.”

  Her heart soared, realizing what Jamie had done for her. He’d compromised his duty to help Niall. She knew how he felt about outlaws after his brother’s dishonor—yet he’d helped her brother even though he knew Niall was fighting with the MacGregors.

  “What about the MacGregors?”

  He shook his head. “You’re as relentless as your brother. No amount of sympathy for their plight will atone for their crimes, but …” He paused. “I will do what I can to ensure that they—as any man—are treated fairly.”

  A wide smile spread across her face. How could she have ever doubted him? Argyll was fortunate to have a man like Jamie at his side. They both were. And Jamie, she suspected, was an important tempering force to his cousin. If Argyll crossed the line, Jamie would be there to do something about it. Caitrina bit her lip to keep from laughing. And if Jamie forgot, she would be there to remind him.

  She’d made her choice and chosen her husband. She could trust him to do what was right for the future of the Highlands. The problems facing them were not easy ones. Jamie walked a precipitous line between the Highland divide, and she loved him for the strong, fair-minded man that he was.

  Caitrina laughed, happier at that moment than she’d ever been in her life. All she’d ever wanted was standing right in front of her. Home. Security. Love. She would never forget the past, but she could make a new future. And she was ready to do so.

  She looked deep into his eyes. “I love you, Jamie Campbell.”

  He placed a tender kiss on her soft lips. “And I love you. Although I never thought to hear those two words together.”

  “What?”

  “Love and Campbell.”

  She grinned. “Get used to it. You’ll be hearing them forever.”

  Author’s Note

  Jamie Campbell is based on a compilation of historical figures. Most significant: Sir Dugald Campbell of Auchinbreck (the captain of Castleswene and the man said to have convinced the MacGregor to surrender to Argyll, although some sources lay the blame for this on Campbell of Ardkinglas; Auchinbreck’s father died fighting for Argyll at the battle of Glenlivet); James Campbell of Lawers (known as one of the most ruthless hunters of MacGregors); and Donald Campbell of Barbreck-Lochow (the natural son of Campbell of Calder, said to be the strong arm of Argyll and the keeper of Mingarry Castle). An interesting side note for readers of my first trilogy: One of Auchinbreck’s daughters, Florence, married John Garve Maclean, the son of Lachlan of Coll and Flora MacLeod (from Highlander Unchained).

  Caitrina and her immediate family are also fictional characters. However, the attack and razing of Ascog Castle was loosely inspired by an actual event—much more horrific than the one I described—that occurred about forty years later, in 1646, during the British Civil Wars. Then, the Lamonts were supporters of the Royalists and the Marquis of Montrose, putting them in direct conflict with the Marquis of Argyll (Archibald the Grim’s son).

  Following the defeat of the Campbells at the battle of Inverlochy in 1645 by James Graham, first Marquis of Montrose, the Lamonts ravaged Campbell lands. A year later, when Montrose had been defeated, Argyll sought his revenge, attacking the Lamonts at Toward and Ascog with “Fire and Sword.” The Lamonts surrendered under an agreement of safe conduct. Instead, over one hundred (perhaps as many as two hundred) clansmen were taken to Dunoon. Thirty-six men were hanged in the kirkyard. There were even reports of men being buried alive. Today there is a memorial at Dunoon to the Lamonts who were killed that day.

  Both Ascog and Toward castles were destroyed, leaving only ruins.

  The massacre of Toward (and Ascog) would come back to haunt the Marquis of Argyll. The sister of Lamont of Toward, Isobel, apparently managed to smuggle out (in her hair) a signed copy of the “articles of capitulation” promising safe conduct. Sixteen years later, it was one of the pieces of evidence used to convict the Marquis of Argyll, who would eventually be sentenced to death.

  Though the immediate cause of the dispute between Campbell and Lamont was the British Civil Wars, clan Lamont’s bond with the MacGregors may also have been a factor. The tale of Highland hospitality between the Lamonts and MacGregors occurred sometime in the early seventeenth century. Significantly, the Lamonts are said to have repaid the MacGregors’ hospitality by sheltering the MacGregors when they were proscribed—an offense punishable by death.

  The story of Archibald the Grim, the seventh Earl of Argyll’s “Highland Promise” in the death of the MacGregor, happened much as I described—albeit a few years earlier. Alexander MacGregor of Glenstrae, known as “the Arrow of Glen Lyon,” was hanged and quartered in Edinburgh with ten of his men on January 20, 1604. Twenty-five MacGregors were executed in total over the next few weeks. As I alluded to in the book, following his execution there was a resurgence of violence by the MacGregors. One of the clans targeted by the MacGregors was the MacLarens—mentioned in the story—a neighboring clan who occupied Balquhidder until they were ousted by the MacGregors.

  I condensed the persecution and many of the prohibitions against the MacGregors into one period, but the campaign against clan Gregor spanned a number of years. The biggest push occurred in 1604 (the year following the battle of Glenfruin—the massacre of Colquhouns by the MacGregors) and then in a renewed assault in 1611. However, there is evidence that the clan was hardly subdued in the intervening years. A letter in 1609 from Sir Alexander Colquhoun of Luss to the king in London complained of the lack of progress in the campaign against clan Gregor.

  The persecution of the ill-fated clan
Gregor, the fabled “Children of the Mist,” by the Earl of Argyll is well-known. Whether his motivation was simply land or something more personal, we’ll never know. Though Argyll has been relegated by history as the “bad guy,” it is clear that atrocities were committed on both sides.

  The Duke of Argyll is still the hereditary keeper of the royal castle of Dunoon and pays the nominal rent of a red rose—last given to Queen Elizabeth II on her visit to the castle.

  The Lomond Hills (so labeled on John Speed’s map of 1610) referred to in the story are today better known as the broad area around the Trossachs.

  For more on the Earl of Argyll and the MacGregors, please see the “Special Features” section of my website, www.monicamccarty.com.

  To Dave, my very own big, strapping lad.

  Hmm … I wonder how you’d look in a kilt?

  Acknowledgments

  From the first spark of an idea, to the time the final page proofs leave my hand, there are many people who provide invaluable help and guidance along the way. A special thanks to my editor Kate Collins whose return to Ballantine happened to coincide with the due date for this book and who, despite being inundated, nonetheless managed to read it in record time. Nothing like hitting the ground running is there, Kate? Thanks also to Charlotte for her early guidance on this project and to Kelli Fillingim for keeping everything going. As always, thanks to my agents Kelly Harms and Andrea Cirillo, my cp’s Nyree and Jami, the Fog City Divas and brainstorming buddies, the production team at Ballantine, and the Web design team at Wax Creative—you guys are the best!

  My brother-in-law Sean for answering my medical questions (see, I told you you’d get some ink!). Hope I didn’t screw anything up. If so, the errors are mine. Who would have thought that when my sister married, I’d gain not only a brother, but also a doctor with an interest in historical battle injuries? I really should play the lottery more often …