The Campbell Trilogy

by Monica McCarty

  It was a trap. One in which he would not be caught.

  Then he remembered. He swore, dread settling low in his belly. Jeannie. He’d left her alone, and in doing so had given them the perfect weapon. His muscles flared and fists clenched. If they hurt her, touched her in any way, they would not see another sunrise. He didn’t care if there was an entire army in there.

  His eyes darted to the second floor window, not seeing any movement. He tried not to let it alarm him, but she had to have heard the noise below when the men rushed in. If she wasn’t in her room, it meant she was—

  A muffled woman’s scream tore through the morning air, turning his blood to ice.

  Without hesitation he ran.

  About twenty feet from the door, the loud shot of musket fire pierced the quiet morning air.

  Colin couldn’t believe it. It had been almost too easy—well, except for the big Irishman. His men had taken the inn with nary a shot fired, a dirk had taken care of the sole guardsman outside, and the other men had been virtually helpless while they slept, only to discover that neither his brother nor Lady Jean Gordon were here. His fury was nearly uncontrollable, buoyed by fear that they’d found something.

  The wounded Irishman and the four Gordon guardsmen had been bound and gathered in a group on the floor. The innkeeper, his wife, and his young daughter had also been brought to him. “Where are they?” he demanded of the big man.

  Blood was gushing from the Irishman’s nose and cheek where his face had been smashed by the butt of a musket, but he smiled and asked, “Who?”

  Colin barely contained his irritation. Only his desire to catch his brother prevented him from ordering the man killed instantly. “The outlaw Duncan Dubh.”

  The burly red-haired man shrugged. “I don’t know any outlaws.”

  Colin put the barrel of his pistol right under the man’s chin. “Are you sure about that?”

  The big man didn’t flinch. “Aye.”

  He could see it in his ruddy face—this man would never betray his leader. Colin was about to pull the trigger when out of the corner of his eye he noticed the young maid open her mouth.

  His gaze narrowed on her. “Do you have something to say? Do you know where the outlaw and the woman are?”

  The girl looked scared enough to crap herself. “I …”

  “Bring her to me.”

  She screamed when his men grabbed her. “They’re n-not h-here,” she said, her words barely intelligible behind the frightened sobs. “We didn’t know he was an outlaw. We don’t want no trouble. I saw the black-haired man leave a while ago, heading toward the harbor. I heard them arguing last night and I was concerned about the lady so I went to check on her. She left not long after he did—”

  Her words were cut off by the sound of a gunshot.

  Colin supposed it was too much to hope that someone else might have done his job for him.

  Jeannie’s heart raced to near bursting as she urged the pony faster. The wind ripped through her hair and pounded against her cheeks. Tears streamed from her eyes, but she hardly noticed. All she could think of was getting back to the village. She couldn’t wait to find Duncan and tell him what she’d discovered.

  Refusing to back down, she’d confronted the old woman with what she’d learned. A few pointed questions was all it had taken and like a dam that had been waiting to break, the whole sordid story had come pouring out.

  Davy shouted something that sounded like “be careful” just before she caught sight of a man plunging out from the trees on the right side of the path, cutting her off. She was forced to rein in her mount to avoid colliding with him or veering off the path into the trees and bracken.

  It all happened so fast it took her a moment to realize it was Duncan’s man Leif. In the best of circumstances the Norseman made her uneasy, but with the glacial look on his face right now he made her blood run as cold as his ice-blue eyes. He was an incredibly attractive man, if you could get past the fearsome expression, which she’d yet to do. Hard, emotionless, scary: that about summed him up.

  “What are you doing at the castle?” he demanded, his voice as biting as the wind.

  She didn’t like the way he was looking at her or the suspicion in his voice. She would wager he was well aware of the argument she and Duncan had last night.

  Davy cowered behind her, eyes wide and shoulders shaking.

  She resisted the urge to tell the giant Norseman that it was none of his blasted business. He had no right to question her. It was only that she knew he was motivated by concern and loyalty to Duncan that prevented her from telling him to go to the devil. More importantly, she didn’t want to waste time arguing with him. “I found it. I found the proof we were looking for.” Reaching in her purse, she pulled out a wrinkled piece of parchment and handed it to him, hoping he could read Latin.

  Skeptical of her pronouncement, the Norseman kept one eye on her as he carefully unfolded the parchment and read its contents. It didn’t take long.

  Some of the hostility on his face slackened on the first pass. He read it again and then stared at her, unable to conceal his shock. She could commiserate.

  “Where did you get this?”

  She bristled at the arrogance in his tone and said, “Lady MacDonald.”

  He swore and shook his head in disbelief, then handed her back the parchment, which she carefully replaced in the jewel-encrusted purse at her waist. “Now, if you don’t mind I’d like to find Duncan,” she said.

  “I’ll take you myself.”

  If that was an apology, his manner left much to be desired. They rode hard the remainder of the short journey back to the inn, Davy struggling to keep up with their lightning pace. They’d just crested the hill above the village—only a few hundred yards away—when the shot rang out.

  No! Her heart plummeted, an icy chill of premonition running down her spine. She covered her mouth to stifle the scream that rose to her throat.

  Leif swore and reined in his horse, motioning for them to stop.

  She looked at him helplessly, not daring to think what was happening down there—they could see the barn and garden, but not the front yard of the inn.

  A bit of Leif’s icy hard demeanor cracked and he gave her an encouraging grin—at least she thought it was a grin as one side of his mouth lifted. “Don’t worry, lass, the captain can take care of himself.”

  But his confident words could not spell the frantic pounding of her heart. This couldn’t be happening. Not when they were so close! She had the proof. She only needed to get it to him.

  If he’d been caught, he could be executed on the spot. Had that been the shot? Tears swam in her eyes. Her chest tightened painfully. It was too horrible to contemplate.

  As their horses would only be a hindrance now, Leif instructed them to tie them up, leaving Davy to watch over them until it was safe—a task the frightened young man was most willing to accept.

  Cautiously, they crept down the hill, Leif scanning their surroundings the entire time. After what seemed an hour, though was probably only a minute or two, they approached the stable of the inn. Two soldiers stood guarding the kitchen door, presumably to prevent any escape. They could hear voices and shouting coming from the yard.

  Leif pressed his fingers to his lips and motioned for her to follow him. Using the barn as a shield, they skirted around to the front of the inn.

  It was what they feared—soldiers. At least a score of them. One man stood with his back to her. There was something eerily familiar …

  He turned, giving her his profile.

  Jeannie stopped dead in her tracks. The blood slipped from her face.

  Dear God. It was Colin Campbell.

  And then she saw Duncan.

  Anticipating her reaction, Leif pulled her into his arms and put a hand over her mouth to prevent her cry.

  Duncan barely noticed the burning as the musket ball grazed his shoulder, but blood poured down his arm. He was fortunate the soldiers’ guns didn’t
have better accuracy. From their distance in the trees—perhaps fifty yards away—they would have been much better off using their bows. He pulled out his dirk, knowing the pistol at his waist would be useless as he’d yet to prime it for the day.

  The noise from the shot had alerted the men inside to his approach and the door opened. A few men funneled out before he saw the one who was familiar to him.

  Their eyes locked.

  “Colin,” he said. His brother had changed over the years. Not as dramatically as Jamie, perhaps, but still significantly. He was a few inches shorter than Jamie and Duncan, but more thickly built. But he looked unwell. On edge. As if he hadn’t slept in weeks.

  Colin nodded his head in greeting. “Duncan. It’s been a long time.”

  Duncan thought he detected a glint of regret in his eyes, but it was quickly smothered by cold resolve. In that one glance he knew: If he was looking for an ally, he would not find it with his brother.

  His gaze darted behind Colin’s shoulder through the door, but there was no sign of her. “I heard a woman scream,” he said. “Where is she?”

  Colin’s eyes narrowed, he thought with a gleam of calculation. “You mean you don’t know?” He held his gaze and laughed.

  A chill swept across the back of his neck. Had something happened to her? “Let them go,” Duncan said. “I’ll go willingly, if you let them go.”

  Colin’s eyes turned black. “Willingly or not you’ll go. You are hardly in a position to bargain.”

  Duncan fought to stay calm. A score of soldiers wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to escape. “They have done nothing wrong. You’ve no cause to take them.”

  “Harboring an outlaw is crime enough,” Colin said. He stared at the dirk Duncan had in his hand. “Drop your weapons and I can promise that no one will get hurt.”

  Duncan didn’t hesitate. He dropped his dirk, removed his pistol and tossed it down as well, then unbuckled his sword and handed it over to his brother.

  Colin took one look at it and his face nearly exploded with rage. “Father’s sword! You stole it after he fell. You’ve had it this whole time.”

  Duncan didn’t defend himself. The sword had never rightfully belonged to him. But he’d wanted it. Taking it had been a spurious decision in the shock of his father falling in battle.

  He allowed himself to be bound, flexing his wrists to ensure a little slack in the rope.

  “Make sure it’s tight,” Colin said, guessing his intentions. “And check him for hidden weapons.” When they were done retrieving the two other knives, including his sgain dubh, Colin shouted to his men inside, “Bring them out.”

  Duncan waited anxiously, needing to see that she was all right, but he was to be disappointed. He saw Conall, beaten badly but alive, and three of the Gordon guardsmen who’d accompanied them—he knew it didn’t bode well for the fourth. Leif, he hoped, was safely away.

  He kept his face impassive, hiding the cold fear cutting through him. Jeannie wasn’t there.

  If Leif hadn’t been holding her, Jeannie would have rushed forward. Duncan thought she was inside with Colin’s soldiers and that’s why he was giving himself up. She had to stop him. At best he would be imprisoned in some ghastly pit prison, and at worst …

  She couldn’t think about at worst.

  “His brother?” Leif whispered in her ear.

  She nodded, and he relaxed his hand around her mouth.

  “You can’t help him. Not now,” he said.

  As much as she didn’t want to hear it, Leif was right. She was more certain than ever that is was Colin who was responsible for what had happened to Duncan. Her proof would hold no weight with him; if anything it would give him even more reason to kill Duncan on the spot. She wondered why he hadn’t already done so.

  “Where is she?” she heard Duncan say. For a man tied up, his voice held the unmistakable promise of danger.

  “Not here,” Colin answered. “Don’t tell me she ran out on you again?” To one of his men he said, “Bring out the girl.”

  Jeannie saw the poor maidservant dragged out and she had to fight the urge not to rush out and do something to help her.

  “Wait,” Leif whispered. “We don’t want to interfere unless we need to.”

  She relaxed just a little. Duncan trusted this man, she would have to as well.

  “Where did the lady go?” She heard Colin ask.

  The girl could barely speak she was so scared. “T-to the castle. She d-didn’t want him,” she gestured to Duncan, “to know.”

  “Why would she do that?” Colin asked. Jeannie heard the suspicion in his voice.

  The maid shook her head. “I don’t k-know,” the girl stuttered. “She was upset, she looked like she’d been crying all night. I heard them arguing.”

  Jeannie’s cheeks heated. The walls at the inn were thinner than she’d realized.

  “She betrayed me,” Duncan said flatly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she went to alert the MacDonald to my presence on the island. Leave her to them.”

  Jeannie gasped. How could he think that?

  “He doesn’t mean it, lass,” Leif whispered, but he didn’t sound quite as confident as he had before. He’d seen Duncan last night—no doubt he’d also seen how furious he was.

  “Yet you were willing to surrender your life for hers,” Colin pointed out shrewdly.

  Duncan nodded. “ ’Twas my fault she was here. ’Tis no more than I would have done for any woman in my care.” Even one who did not deserve it. Jeannie filled in the words he’d left unsaid.

  Colin recognized the truth in that, as did Jeannie. Duncan was unfailingly chivalrous.

  Colin gave him a hard look. “Why were you here?”

  “I hoped to find my mother.”

  “And were you successful?” Colin asked nonchalantly, though Jeannie knew he was anything but.

  “Nay,” Duncan said. “She died ten years ago.”

  Colin nodded, satisfied. “After what Jean Grant did to you last time, I’m surprised that you sought her out at all.”

  “I hoped she might have come to regret what she’d done, but I was wrong. She’s as false of heart as she is fair of face.”

  Colin studied his face, not sure whether to believe him. “I’m interested in hearing what Lady Gordon has to say all the same. I’ll send some of my men to the castle to see if we can’t retrieve her.” Colin’s smile sent a chill down her spine. “Our cousin has ordered me to bring you both to Inveraray. He wishes to see you before you face the charges against you.”

  Jeannie breathed a bit easier. She had her explanation for why Colin had not executed him on the spot. She felt the inconceivable urge to thank the Earl of Argyll.

  Duncan shrugged. “Do what you wish. She can swim home for all I care.”

  A tear ran down her cheek. Her heart squeezed. He doesn’t mean it—no matter how convincing he sounded. But the look on his face last night when she’d told him about Dougall was still too fresh in her mind.

  Colin started to order his men to take the prisoners to the birlinn. Slowly, Leif backed them away to the safety of the inn’s stables. “He’s trying to keep you safe, lass.”

  Jeannie sniffled and nodded. “I know.” I hope. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. She couldn’t think of this now. Later her heart could break, right now she needed to help him. “We have to get to Inveraray before they do. Argyll will kill him. What are we going to do?”

  The fearsome Norseman smiled—really smiled this time. It might have been more blood-chilling than his frown. “Beat them,” he said. Her surprise must have shown. “We aren’t just infamous for murdering and pillaging, you know. No one can best a Norseman on the water.”

  Jeannie didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. Murdering and pillaging, good God!

  Chapter 23

  Duncan breathed easier when Colin’s men returned from Dunyvaig Castle empty-handed. Lady MacDonald claimed that Jeannie had left the island first thing this morni
ng. Whether it was true, Duncan didn’t know, but he wanted her as far away from his brother as possible.

  He allowed himself to be loaded onto the birlinn, trying to put aside his fear for Jeannie. He knew it was far safer for them both if he left the island without her. He didn’t think Colin had completely believed his avowal of indifference and he didn’t want to put it to the test. If she wasn’t with them, Colin couldn’t try to use her against him. Moreover, it might not be necessary to escape, but if it was, Jeannie’s presence would make it a much more difficult proposition.

  Still, the thought of leaving her went against every protective bone in his body.

  She’ll be fine, he told himself. If she’d gone to the castle, Leif would have seen her. And the Norseman would protect her with his life.

  But why had she gone to the castle?

  The thought that she might have left him as Colin had suggested, or turned him in as he’d asserted, had entered his mind for a fraction of an instant, but he’d never truly considered it. Whatever reason she’d had to return to Dunyvaig, he knew it wasn’t that. She loved him. She would never have told him about Dougall if she didn’t trust him completely.

  And he trusted her. He knew it with a certainty that defied explanation. He could be looking at a mountain of evidence against her and still he wouldn’t believe it. He didn’t know what had changed, what had caused his trust not to waver, but it didn’t. Not a hair.

  He supposed he had Colin to thank for giving him the clarity he’d sought. When he’d heard the woman’s scream everything had crystallized. He’d been angry at Jeannie for not telling him about Dougall, but the real source of his fury had been directed at himself. He was to blame for leaving her alone and with child. His lack of trust had cost him not just the woman he’d loved, but his son. It was a mistake that he would never be able to rectify, but he swore he would do everything he could to try.