Campbell's Redemption

by Sharon Cullen

  Iain ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a bit of straw that fluttered to the ground. “I can’t believe you just said that. I can’t believe you’d even think such a thing.”

  “I have to survive.”

  “You have me.” His hands curled into fists at his sides. “But for some reason you don’t trust me to take care of you.” He huffed out a laugh and looked past her shoulders.

  “Take care of me?” she exploded, having had enough of all of this. Anger and a host of other emotions rushed through her, stealing her good sense. The words came tumbling out, faster than she could say them. “How can ye take care of me when ye couldn’t even take care of the man riding next to ye who…” She breathed out a sob that physically hurt. “Who would have…”

  He looked at her with dark eyes filled with pain. His silence was more brutal than any words he could have spoken in his own defense. “Go ahead,” he finally said. “Say it all. Everything you’ve always wanted to say to me.”

  To her shock, she balled up her fist and hit him square in the chest. She’d never hit anyone, but it felt good and Iain didn’t even flinch. “He would have done anything for ye. He loved ye like a brother, and he…he…lost his life because of ye.” Tears were running unchecked down her face, but she didn’t brush them away. Iain stood there, his jaw clenched as her words rained down on him like blows.

  Eventually, the anger drained out of her and she was left with the throbbing grief that she had lived with daily for the past four years.

  “He died…” She drew in a shuddering breath. “He died doing what he did best. Protecting ye. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.” She looked at him through a haze of tears. “I think…I think I’m more angry at him for dying exactly the way he wanted to die, protecting ye. And leaving me behind.”

  “Ah, Cait.” Iain just stared at her as if he didn’t know what to do or say.

  She wiped at her tears and breathed deep. Something had loosened inside of her and floated away. She’d been hanging on to that anger for a long time, and she just now realized that she was mad at John, not Iain.

  “So.” She laughed a bit shakily. “I apologize for breaking down on ye. I had no’ expected to do that.”

  He lightly touched her arm, his look so serious. “I know I’ve told you before, but his last words and his last thoughts were of you.”

  She nodded. It helped, in a way, but it didn’t fill the hole that his death had left behind. “Thank ye for being there for him. At the end.”

  “I would have changed places with him in an instant.”

  She tilted her head to look at him. “I believe ye would have. But then what would have happened to us Campbells without a leader?”

  A corner of his lips lifted in a slight smile. “I have a feeling you all would have survived.”

  “I have a feeling that Scotland would have been severely hurt if ye had died instead of John. I have a feeling that ye work a lot harder behind people’s backs than anyone realizes.”

  “I don’t do any more than you or Sutherland or MacLean or anyone else who loves Scotland.”

  “Ye’re a liar, Iain Campbell. I think redeeming the Campbell name is what drives ye. I just wish more people knew what ye are doing.”

  He looked away, clearly embarrassed, and cleared his throat. “We will never know who killed John. It’s one of my greatest regrets.”

  “Knowing won’t bring him back. Revenge never helped anyone.”

  “I would avenge his death.”

  “He wouldn’t want that, and ye know it. It’s time to let it be.”

  “I’m scared for you, Cait. I promised John I would protect you, and while I’ve done a damn horrible job of it, this is more than a promise to a good friend. I’m truly frightened for you.”

  She smiled despite the seriousness of the discussion. “I like that ye’re worried about me, but truly, there’s nothing to worry about. I know what I’m doing. Halloway is just a lad, barely a man, and I think he’s homesick and a little lost out here in the wilds. Someday he’ll thank me for turning him away.”

  “You think of him as a boy, but he has the power of the English army behind him, and that is dangerous.” He took her hand between his. “I’m asking you to please stop all of this. Please, Cait.” His voice broke and her heart went out to him.

  “Iain,” she said on a sigh. “I canno’ discuss this anymore.”

  “I don’t want to discuss this anymore, either. Just do what I say, and there will be no more discussion.”

  She pulled her hands away, disappointed that he refused to understand how much she needed to be needed and to help her people. “What I am doing is no different than what ye are doing, and I’m sorry ye can’t understand that.”

  He ran a hand down his face. “I’m botching this terribly.”

  “Iain, ye can’t command me like ye command everyone else.” She took a deep breath. “I think we need some distance from each other. What happened in the barn…We both wanted it, and it was very obviously wonderful, but that doesn’t give ye leave to tell me what to do. Ye’re no’ my husband.”

  “Cait—”

  She held up her hand to stop him because she had a fairly good idea what he would say, and she didn’t want him to try to convince her lest she capitulate. The truth was, she had feelings for him, powerful feelings that, if she let loose, would control her life, and she’d vowed to never let a love like that back into her life. Love hurt too badly, and she didn’t ever want to go there again.

  “Please, Iain.”

  —

  Cait watched Iain walk away while a whirlwind of emotions battered her. She wanted to run after him and tell him to come back. At the same time, she knew that letting him walk away was the best thing. He was angry at her, and it had been her experience that arguing with angry men—especially Highland men—was counterproductive.

  She’d lived alone and been making her own decisions too long for someone to walk into her life and command her about.

  But…

  She had feelings for the frustrating man. Feelings she wasn’t prepared for and needed time to think about, and she didn’t have time to think when he was demanding this and commanding that. She turned her back to his retreating form and headed into the cottage, her heart heavy with indecision and regret.

  On the other hand, she’d been living alone too long and was hungry for companionship. To sit at night with someone, to talk about mundane things or not talk at all, sounded wonderful. Black Cat was a nice companion but not much of a conversationalist.

  But…

  Iain Campbell was not your average man and definitely not an average mate. He commanded one of the biggest clans in the Highlands. He was friends with the English. He entertained English soldiers and played a game far deeper and more dangerous than any game she was playing. To be in a relationship with him would be complicated.

  And what if it moved beyond that? What if this thing they had together became more serious?

  She would have to leave her cottage and move to the big house, where she would have to help him entertain English soldiers. She wasn’t sure she could do that.

  Of course, that was only if whatever this was turned serious, and it would have to be very serious indeed, for her to leave her way of life.

  It was a good thing she’d sent him away, for she was so confused that she wasn’t sure which way was up and which down. So she did what she was good at doing. She made enough food to feed an army and fed her special guests, who were very grateful. And when night fell, she waited for Sutherland’s men and fed them, and they were also very grateful.

  “Ye never used to come on every run,” she said as she watched Sutherland eat standing up. Always on guard, he was.

  “My men are stretched thin. MacLean used to help, but he’s busy rebuilding his clan and his home. I’m short on men and time.” He looked weary and worried. What had started as a way to get a few hunted Jacobites out of Scotland had turned into a never-endi
ng wave of desperate men and women fleeing their country.

  “I wish I could do more,” she said.

  Sutherland wiped his fingers on his kilt. “Ye’re doing far more than ye need to, and I appreciate it.”

  “When will ye be back?” she asked.

  “Not for a few days. The ship comes in soon, and I’m going to get as many on it as I can.” Sutherland had two ships that continuously sailed from Scotland to Canada, weighing anchor every two weeks. In the meantime, he moved the people around so they weren’t in one place for too long. It was constant and it was exhausting.

  “Have there been any soldiers visiting?” Sutherland asked as the men began shuffling up the steps.

  “Captain Palmer came by this morning asking questions about the deaths of the soldiers. Halloway later in the afternoon.”

  Sutherland looked at her sharply. “Palmer’s been asking questions?”

  “The soldiers were killed nearby. He’s talking to everyone in the area.”

  “Ye’re the only one in the area.”

  “I know.”

  “Be careful, Cait. I don’t like him.”

  Neither did she. “I’ll be fine. Halloway supported me.”

  Sutherland seemed to think about that before nodding. “I don’t condone killing soldiers without provocation, but I have to admit that two fewer soldiers is a good thing.”

  “Do ye know anything about the killings?” she asked.

  “Nay.”

  She doubted he would tell her if he did, and truthfully, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She was suddenly so very tired of it all but wondered what she would do with her life once it was over. She wasn’t certain she knew how to go back to living a calm existence with no excitement or danger.

  Chapter 18

  “The consensus is that MacGregor is behind the burning of yer fields,” Adair said.

  Iain had suspected as much the night of the fire but had yet to prove it. “Without proof, there’s nothing I can do.”

  “These attacks need to stop.”

  “I agree, but MacGregor is an old Highlander who holds a grudge better than anyone I know. He refuses to listen to reason. He won’t even allow me on his land to speak to him.”

  “We can’t fight two wars on our land,” Adair said. The English were a worse enemy. MacGregor was just a pesky fly that wouldn’t go away. Although the consequences of this last stunt would be felt until the end of next summer. “What about the sunken ship?” Adair asked.

  Iain paced to the window, too wound up to sit for long. “It’s what it was reported to be. An unexpected squall that slammed the ship into the rocks.”

  “No’ MacGregor, then.”

  “Not unless the man can control the weather.”

  “I’m sure he’d take responsibility for it if he could.”

  Iain looked out the window at the green lawn that sloped gently downward into the Highland woods. In a lot of ways, he was a lucky man. He had this vast house and more wealth than he could count. He held titles in England, thanks to his grandmother’s side of the family, and Scotland, thanks to his father’s family. He was respected among the English, if barely tolerated among his fellow Scots.

  For a long while, that had been enough. He knew he was fighting a silent war with England, and that energized him and gave him purpose. Everything he did, every move he made, was carefully thought out to provide the best outcome for Scotland. It was a chess game played in real life, and he thrived on it. While it bothered him that his fellow chiefs and even his fellow clansmen held him in disdain, he knew in his heart that he was doing what was right for Scotland.

  But now it wasn’t enough. He felt hollow and lonely inside, and he couldn’t pinpoint why or when this feeling had started. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, and while he wished it would go away, he knew that something fundamental had changed inside of him and the loneliness would be with him forever now.

  He hadn’t seen Cait in three days. For him that was a lifetime. Every day he struggled with himself, wanting to go to her. Wanting to check on her. Wanting to speak to her and wanting to make love to her. He’d had women—mistresses, mostly. There’d been two who had come close to being his marchioness, for political reasons only, and both relationships had fallen through when the women were no longer needed for his ambitions. It was heartless, but Iain was known for being cold. Especially when it came to relationships.

  However, after his afternoon with Cait, everything changed. He was like a lovelorn lad, and it irritated him that she was all he thought about, to the point that his work against the English was suffering.

  He’d thought a lot about his conversation with Cait, playing it over and over in his mind. She’d pushed him out, forced him to leave with no satisfaction to the roiling emotions. In the end, he couldn’t dispute anything that she’d said. She was right. He’d thought that making love to her would give him leave to tell her what to do, to command her in some way. Unfortunately, that was not how Cait thought, and it confused him. He could easily commiserate with Halloway. In short, he was hurt that his feelings weren’t reciprocated, and it made him feel like a fool. He’d walked away because he’d been embarrassed, and he didn’t know what else to do because arguing with her didn’t work.

  “Campbell?”

  He turned from the window to find Adair watching him. “Ye were lost in yer thoughts there.”

  Iain grunted and Adair laughed. “I find nothing funny,” Iain said stiffly, but the reprimand only made Adair laugh harder.

  “I find it very funny. So the mighty Iain Campbell has fallen.”

  Iain raised a brow, but Adair couldn’t stop chuckling.

  “I wondered if you would find a woman who would crack that stone heart of yers.”

  “I don’t have a stone heart,” Iain said, offended.

  “Sure ye do. Everyone knows it. All the women speculate about who will steal it. Rumor has it that the most powerful wives of the English nobility have their eyes on ye as a perspective husband to their daughters.”

  Iain’s other brow went up. “And how do you know all of this?” Adair stopped laughing and struggled to keep a straight face. Iain wasn’t amused, but he was curious. “People talk about me?” He found it appalling that he’d been discussed at balls and in sitting rooms.

  “All the time.”

  “Why?”

  “Well…” Adair seemed nonplussed. “There are some lasses who find ye pleasing to the eye, I guess. And ye’re wealthy. And ye have those titles.”

  All of that was reasonable. Men wanted to ally themselves with other powerful men, and one way to do that was through their daughters’ marriages. Eventually, Iain would have to wed for an heir, but sometimes he thought that the Campbell wealth, titles, and reputation were more of a curse than an inheritance. Mainly, it was the reputation that he wanted to obliterate. But how could he do that when he perpetrated the rumors and groomed the reputation so he could gain the trust of the English and therefore use that trust against them?

  “That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Don’t they have more important things to discuss?”

  “Ye’re their chief. It’s a matter of great importance.”

  Iain made a noise that sounded like “psshh” before turning back to the window.

  Cait.

  He would bet his fortune that none of these clucking hens had even considered Cait as his marchioness.

  Hell, he’d never considered Cait.

  Cait.

  The woman who had stolen all of his thoughts for the past three days. She was the only woman who made him feel alive and whole and not as empty as he’d been feeling the past few weeks.

  “So, Cait Campbell,” Adair said, still sounding amused.

  Iain’s back teeth came together. “Does everyone have to speculate about my life? Even you, Adair?”

  “Even me.”

  This was no laughing matter. Iain was in some serious turmoil and his friend thought it humorous. “There is nothing b
etween Cait Campbell and me.”

  “Is that the story ye’re staying with?”

  “Shut your gob, Adair.”

  Adair laughed. “Ye’re in bad shape, mate.”

  Iain rubbed his forehead and wished Adair far away. “Can we please end this conversation? I have work to do.”

  “I believe I owe Cait Campbell a visit,” Adair said.

  Iain spun around and glared at Adair before he thought better of it. “What for?”

  “For fixing me up the way she did. I owe her a bit of gratitude. What should I bring to her as a thank-ye offering?” There was a twinkle in Adair’s eyes, but Iain didn’t know if he was jesting or serious, and he didn’t like the thought of Adair visiting Cait.

  “I’m certain she doesn’t expect a gift for healing you.”

  Adair shrugged. “Maybe I want to give her something. Maybe I’ll ask if I can court her.”

  Iain growled and Adair laughed.

  “Are ye certain ye can deny yer feelings for her?” his friend asked.

  Iain turned back to the window; he didn’t want Adair to see the truth. He was normally very good at hiding his emotions, but Cait had him all out of sorts. Could he deny his feelings for her? Did he want to?

  “She’s not what I need,” he said.

  “I disagree.” This time Adair was serious.

  “She likes her simple life. My life is complicated even for me.”

  “She might surprise ye.”

  Iain shook his head and changed the subject. “What are we to do about MacGregor?”

  Adair hesitated, and Iain prayed the man had taken the hint. “I think ye need to call Graham into this.”

  Iain looked at Adair over his shoulder. “Graham?”

  “He’s the most powerful Highland chief, and if ye meet MacGregor on neutral land, he might be more amendable to speaking to ye. Graham can help.”

  Unfortunately, Graham was not speaking to Iain at the moment. He believed Iain a traitor who wanted to bring Scotland closer to the English ways. However…“It’s a good plan,” he admitted. Graham was the only one whom MacGregor would accept as a mediator, and Graham was the only way Iain would have a chance of talking to MacGregor.