How a Scot Surrenders to a Lady

by Julie Johnstone

  He tipped her face farther up and, leaning down, brushed his lips to her soft ones. “I will always feel that way.”

  “What…what if,” she hedged, and he tensed with hope that she would reveal something that would give him further proof of what he believed she hid and why, “I hid something from ye so ye would nae get hurt? What if I lied to ye? Would ye still care for me?”

  The need to tell her that he loved her burned through him, but he held it back. He didn’t fear that she would not want to hear it, he feared what further lengths she would go to with her efforts to protect him if she understood just what lengths he would go to in order to protect her. “I would still care for ye, Sorcha.” He brushed the back of his hand over the delicate slope of her cheekbone, savoring the raw pleasure such a simple thing gave him.

  A strong ache to pick her up, carry her to the bed, and love her overwhelmed him, but he could not give in to the temptation—not yet. He needed to uncover as much information as he could to guide his course of action to safeguard their future together. He took her hand and led her to a chair in the corner of her bedchamber. He sat down and pulled her into his lap. “Tell me of yer family.”

  She frowned. “I already told ye what my father did.” She bit her lip. “I take it ye did nae find my attacker?” Her voice sounded as if it were strung as tight as a bow.

  He shook his head, hating to lie but knowing the truth may well push her to flee. He was extremely grateful that he no longer had such a lack of faith in himself that he could now understand that when someone tried to protect him, it did not mean they did not have faith in him. It meant they cared.

  A knot formed in his throat. “Nay,” he finally replied, watching her worried face relax, “we did nae capture yer attacker.” He slipped his hand up her back to press her closer. “Tell me of yer sister?” he asked, beginning his probe.

  She shook her head. “My father married Constance off to a man four times her age, despite her protest and dismay. I imagine he’d do the same to me if he got the chance.”

  Anger at her father simmered. “He’ll nae get the opportunity.”

  “Nay, he’ll not,” she agreed, but something in her eyes, a sudden wariness, told him that she did not expect her marriage to be one of her choosing. Had she resigned herself, then, to the fate of the king’s whim? Or did she think Cameron would not want her to be his wife once he learned she had hidden the truth from him? He squeezed her arm gently, offering silent comfort for that which he could not yet chance putting into words.

  “Are ye close to yer sister?” he asked instead.

  Sorcha nodded. “Aye. We still write. Or we did… She is verra unhappy, but I dunnae see what can be done now that she is wed.”

  “I have to agree,” he replied, thinking of his own plan. “It is much harder to undo a marriage than to stop a marriage from ever happening. What of yer brother?”

  She glanced down at her lap, twisting the material of her gown. “We were close once,” she whispered. “He used to be so loving and kind. He looked after me and Constance. He was gentle, nae a warrior, and my father did nae let him forget it for a minute. Father twisted him so much I hardly could believe what he had become, the betrayal he was capable of. It breaks—er, broke—my heart,” she continued, still looking down. “I was better than he was with daggers, at archery, and riding horses. He became jealous and bitter, and he developed a terrible cruel streak. Still, I have hope for him,” she said vehemently. “He has seen the horrible error of his ways and fled to—” She abruptly stopped speaking. “He’s fled away from Father and vowed to go somewhere safe to redeem himself.”

  He grasped her hand in his, moved by the sorrow and naive hope in her voice, and just as his fingers curled around her slender ones, a tear splashed against his hand. He had to clench his teeth against responding, for fear she’d quit speaking. He wanted to kill her brother, and he was almost certain that was one of the things she feared, one of the things that had driven her to help him and lie about it.

  “The king,” Cameron said carefully, “may believe yer brother was involved in the plot to kill Katherine. He may order yer brother to be hunted.”

  Her gaze flew to his, fear etched on her own. “Ye dunnae believe he would still demand yer life if ye dunnae bring him my brother, do ye? Surely, he will be happy with securing my father and the others who actually devised the plot, and Hugo who shot Katherine.”

  “I think he will be well pleased, and my life will be safe,” he replied and watched as her shoulders sagged with visible relief. “But I believe he may order me to find yer brother.” He left unsaid that he suspected greatly that her brother had not fled. He believed Finn had said what he needed to in order to get away, and that the man’s true intention was to go to one of the men involved in the plot. Finn would warn them that Sorcha was alive and would likely reveal what they had done. He’d failed to kill her, so Finn probably hoped one of them would. Her brother would want to make the best deal he could to save himself and the castle he’d been willing to kill his own sister for. That sort of twisted heart was too far gone to change, and it hurt Cameron to his core that Sorcha’s hopes would be crushed and her spirit take a blow when she learned her brother had betrayed her yet again.

  There was a part of him that hoped he was wrong about Finn and that the man was innocent of involvement in the conspiracy. Yet he did not think Sorcha would have lied to him if that was the truth of the matter.

  “Come,” he said, his voice gruff. He tugged her by the hand to the bed.

  Her eyes widened in surprise, and he pulled her to the bed and tugged her into the folds of his arms, tight against his chest, then murmured, “I want to hold ye as I sleep. I want to see ye when I wake. If I have but these two things every day for the rest of my life, I will be the most blessed of men.”

  She twisted back to look at him, wonder dancing in her eyes. “Cameron, I love ye. I do. I love ye with all my heart.”

  He could not hold the words back. He needed to for the sake of care until all was sorted, but they would not be contained. “I love ye, too, m’eudail.” He kissed her forehead. “Now.” He pressed his lips to her nose. “Tomorrow.” He brushed her lips across hers. “Always. Ye are mine.”

  “I want to be yers,” she whispered with fierceness.

  “So ye shall be,” he promised and willed it to be so.

  Eighteen

  Two nights later, Cameron stood in Graham’s solar in a circle with his brothers and their wives, his sisters, and Alex MacLean. Iain, Marion, Lachlan, Bridgette, and Marsaili had arrived from Dunvegan just moments before, under cover of night for their secret meeting. Bridgette and Marion had just entered the room after settling their children into bed.

  “I asked ye all here for yer help,” Cameron started, noting Iain’s eyebrows shoot up and Lachlan twitch with surprise. Stepping toward the table in the middle of the circle, Cameron set the dagger on the table that he had found two nights before. “This dagger belongs to Finn Stewart, the Earl of Angus’s son,” he said to remind the others who Finn was.

  “How did ye come to have this dagger, and how do ye ken it’s his?” Lachlan asked, his confusion obvious in his voice.

  “It has the Angus crest upon it and Finn’s initials carved into it. I came to be in possession of it because Lena and Sorcha were attacked two days ago by a man who had this dagger.”

  Marion’s brow knitted. “Why would the Earl of Angus’s son come to this island to attack Lena and Sor—” Marion gasped. “Do you think he is one of the men who has been trying to kill Sorcha?”

  Cameron nodded. “Aye. And he’s her brother.”

  The shocked looks that swept through the group didn’t bother him, not as much as the suddenly tense expression Iain wore. Likely, Iain already suspected that the Earl of Angus might be involved in the plot to take the throne from David.

  “Did Sorcha’s memory return?” Iain demanded.

  “Aye,” Cameron said, struggling and failing to
keep the grimness from his voice.

  A frown appeared on Iain’s face, and Lachlan’s eyes narrowed. Graham, who already knew all that Cameron was about to relay, gave him a look of encouragement. Just as Cameron was about to continue, Bridgette spoke.

  “I dunnae comprehend why her brother would be trying to kill her,” she said. Before Cameron could answer that question, she blurted another one, her face twisting into a frown. “And where is Sorcha? Why is she nae at this meeting? Why did ye demand we come under cover of night?”

  “She’s nae here,” Cameron said, “because she dunnae ken that I found her brother’s dagger.” He quickly told them about his conversation with Sorcha, and how she had revealed that her father, the Earl of March, and the Earl of Ross were not only involved in the conspiracy to take the throne from David but they had been the ones to plot Katherine’s murder. He also told them about how Sorcha’s father had offered Hugo her hand in marriage, along with her brother’s inheritance of Blair Castle, if Hugo killed Katherine.

  “So ye believe, what?” Iain asked. “That her brother kenned she was still alive after they fled and that he wanted her dead so he’d nae lose his castle?”

  “Aye.” He told them what she had relayed to him of her brother—how he had once been kind and how their father’s criticism and Finn’s jealousy had twisted his heart. “I feel,” he said, taking a deep breath, “that when Finn came for her himself this time, instead of sending others, she saw him and her memories returned. Kenning her and her quickness and skill with the bow, I’ve nary a doubt she managed to get the bow and put him at a disadvantage, but he must have convinced her that he was sorry and that he would flee.”

  “And ye suppose she let him go because of her love for him?” Bridgette asked softly.

  Cameron nodded, tensing with the expectation that Bridgette would be the first to discredit his theory, but that was why he had called them all here. He staked much on what he thought had happened and what he should do based on what he believed would happen. It was a great risk, but one he was willing to take for Sorcha. Yet, he did not have the right to take the risk for his brothers and their wives. If they wanted to put distance between themselves and the situation, he would give them that chance.

  “If I was faced with the knowledge that Alex had betrayed me, tried to kill me, even,” Bridgette said slowly, “and I kenned the why of it and he vowed to flee, I’d do exactly as ye believe Sorcha did. I’d find it worse to offer up my own brother, who I had seen good in at one time, for certain death than to risk myself and lie by releasing him. Beyond that, she did tell ye of her father’s part in the plot, and to me, it means much that she did. She must ken there is nae any hope of redemption for her father. I kinnae imagine how hard that must have been for her to accept and then tell ye of his wrongdoing.”

  “Neither can I,” Cameron replied, relieved that Bridgette agreed with him. She was a keen woman and not one to be easily swayed.

  Lena cleared her throat. “I believe ye have assessed the circumstances correctly, as well.”

  “As do I,” Marion interjected, giving him a reassuring smile.

  “I agree, also,” Marsaili said with a definitive nod.

  “Ye already ken I agree with what ye think happened, what ye foresee will occur, and the course of action we should take,” Graham said. It was not lost on Cameron that his brother had stressed the word we, and his chest tightened in appreciation.

  He glanced at Lachlan and Iain. Of everyone in the room, he expected the two of them to be the people who would disagree or show Cameron where his thinking involved too much hope and not enough logic.

  “I dunnae like that she lied to ye,” Iain began, making the knots in Cameron’s shoulders grow tighter. “But,” he said, glancing swiftly at Marion, then back to Cameron, “kenning women as well as I now do they will do all sorts of illogical things to defend the men who have won their affections.”

  “Aye,” Lachlan agreed, his gaze resting fondly on his wife. “Now that we all agree with yer assessment of what has likely occurred up to this point, why don’t ye tell us what ye think will happen next and what ye believe we should do?”

  Cameron released a long breath and took a second to appreciate this moment of feeling close to all his brothers and sisters. “I asked myself what I would do if I were Finn,” he began. “He kens she is going to reveal the plot against David and who killed Katherine, which will implicate him. So Finn will search out the best person to create an alliance with. As the Ross family is the strongest and Hugo has the most to lose by killing Katherine, I believe Finn will go to them.”

  “Agreed,” Lachlan and Iain replied.

  Lachlan scrubbed a hand across his face, looking contemplative for a moment. “If I were Finn, I’d go to Ross and Hugo and tell them Sorcha would betray them all.”

  “Aye,” Iain said. “I was thinking the same thing. I’d try to strike a bargain with them, proposing that they all name the Earl of Angus as Katherine’s killer. Someone has to pay with his life.”

  “That was my thought,” Graham said. “In doing this, Finn dunnae need Sorcha’s castle anymore because he could gain his father’s land upon his death.”

  A grim silence fell upon the room, broken only when Iain cleared his throat and said, “The Earl of Ross is cunning, as is his son. They will think upon every possible outcome and set plans in motion for each to come out in his own favor. Even as they make it seem they have agreed to unite with Finn, so that they can ensure he will nae tell anyone of their part in Katherine’s death, they’ll likely send word to King David immediately without Finn’s knowledge—”

  “Begging forgiveness for their support of the petition and telling the king that they wish to withdraw their support of it,” Cameron finished, having made the same assumption as Iain.

  “Aye,” came a chorus of agreements.

  Lachlan made a derisive noise from deep in his throat. “Hugo will still want Blair Castle, though, so he will still wish to marry Sorcha. They will propose this to the king, likely even advise that Finn should be killed, as well as his father, for Katherine’s death. The betrayal will be unknown to Finn until the last possible moment, in case something went wrong. Hugo and his father would nae wish to alienate a possible ally.”

  Cameron’s hands curled into fists, hearing what he believed to be true affirmed by his brother. “Exactly. They’ll believe the king will agree, simply to stop the petition, and if the king does agree, I must marry Sorcha now. If she is married to me, she kinnae be made wife of another.”

  “Aye,” Iain said. “And I suppose ye are relying upon what they will nae ken so they will nae expect that we will have taken March’s castle and gained his withdrawal from the petition already, therefore weakening the rebellion.” He locked eyes with Cameron. “Ye will propose this to the king at the start, which will make him more likely to accept yer marriage to Sorcha. David is wise. He should see that ye—a man he can trust who fights against those who have shown themselves disloyal—marrying Sorcha is a greater benefit than agreeing to unite her with Hugo.” Iain’s gaze grew flinty, as it often did when he was plotting. “Ye are certain ye wish to marry Sorcha?”

  “I’m certain,” Cameron replied. “I’m also certain she’ll nae agree to wed me because she wants to keep me safe from Eolande’s prophecy.”

  “Damned seer,” Lachlan growled to grunts of agreement.

  Marion tilted her head, a cunning smile twisting her lips. “Then wed her without her kenning it.”

  Cameron grinned, relieved to hear that a woman he trusted had come up with the same idea he had. When it had first occurred to him two days ago, he’d had a moment of worry that she’d resent him for tricking her into getting married. But in the face of her life and their future being at risk, and armed with the certainty that she did want him for husband, he set the fear aside. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  Bridgette grinned. “It should be fairly easy to get her relent to the truth of wish
ing to marry ye in front of the priest.”

  “Aye,” he agreed. “The difficult part will be for her to state an intention to do so in the future. Without that—”

  “And without a joining,” Iain interrupted, leering at his wife, “it will nae be a binding marriage.”

  “If ye all can help me with getting her to say the right words, I’ll do the rest,” he said with a wink.

  Alex, who had been silent and only nodding his agreement up until this point, met Cameron’s gaze. “If ye are wrong,” he said, “ye will be bound for life to a woman who has betrayed ye.”

  Cameron exhaled slowly. “I will take that chance for Sorcha, though I dunnae believe I’m wrong. But I’ll nae ask ye to take it with me. I intend to send Broch to the king tonight with what I ken, as well as with word that I have married Sorcha. I anticipate the king’s first response will be anger—he dunnae like being thwarted—but he is wise, as ye say. And he will be less angered when he realizes my plan will gain him all he desires. He’ll gain the withdrawal of the Earl of March and the Earl of Angus from the petition, but will still keep the Earl of Ross as somewhat of an ally, even if it’s merely a deceit. The king will also have the deaths of two of the men who plotted to kill Katherine.”

  “Aye,” Iain said, clapping Cameron on the shoulder. “Well done, Brother. Where shall we start?”

  Cameron gave a tight smile. “First, I’ll propose that the king continue to seem agreeable to the marriage of Sorcha to Hugo to keep the Earl of Ross happy. This gains me time and ensures the king dunnae lose an ally. And as I said, I believe Hugo, Finn, and the Earl of Ross will ask the king to allow them to formally come to him to beg his forgiveness for signing the petition.”

  Everyone nodded, and Iain gestured for him to continue. “I’m going to advise to the king that he go to them instead, under the guise of traveling to see his lands,” Cameron said. “I’ll also advise meeting them at the Falls of Friar, which is close to the Ross stronghold. The valleys and cliffs around the Falls will offer good cover for me, which I will need as the plot proceeds. If the king is nae to look like he has betrayed his word to the Earl of Ross, then I must appear to have gone against the king’s command regarding Sorcha.”