Campbell's Redemption

by Sharon Cullen

  She held her hand out to him and he took it. She squeezed but kept her gaze on Palmer. “I can’t explain that, Captain.”

  After a moment, Palmer nodded. “I’m afraid I have to take you with me for questioning regarding Lieutenant Donaldson’s death.”

  “No!” Iain exploded, but Cait kept a firm grip on his hand, holding him in place. “I won’t let him take you,” he told her.

  She looked at Iain steadily. “There is no choice.”

  Iain turned to Palmer. “Look at her. She’s been beaten. Who do you think did that?”

  Palmer’s gaze went to her face and then slid away. “I have to do my duty and investigate my officer’s death.”

  “I killed him,” Iain said. “I came upon him attacking Cait and I killed him.”

  “No!” Cait stepped between them and faced Palmer. “It was me. I did it. He chased me into the forest and attacked me. I hit him with a tree branch.”

  Palmer looked between Cait and Iain, uncertain.

  “Do you really believe her, Palmer? Do you think she has the strength to kill a man with a tree branch? She’s just trying to protect me.”

  She spun around to face Iain. “Why are ye doing this?” she hissed.

  He looked at her steadily. “Because I love you.”

  “Very well,” Palmer said. “Iain Campbell, you are to come with me for questioning in the matter of Lieutenant Donaldson’s death.”

  “Stop this!” Cait yelled. “Ye can’t do this.” She didn’t know whom she was addressing, Palmer for taking Iain away or Iain for lying on her behalf.

  Neither man paid her any mind. Palmer led Iain out and Cait hurried after them. The young soldier with Palmer was leading Donaldson’s horse around the side of the house. Iain approached his own horse and was about to mount when Cait gripped his arm.

  “I love ye,” she said. “I love ye, Iain Campbell, but right now I am so angry at ye. How can ye do this?”

  He grinned. “You love me?”

  She huffed out a frustrated breath. How could he be so nonchalant at a time like this? “Aye. I love ye, and our life together is no’ going to end like this. I’ll find help.”

  His grin faded. “Find Sutherland. Have him fetch MacLean. Tell them I’m calling in the favors they owe me.”

  “Come, Campbell. We have a long day of riding ahead of us.”

  Cait kissed Iain, refusing to cry. She stepped back and looked at Palmer. “Where are ye taking him?”

  Palmer hesitated as if he didn’t want to tell her, but then said, “Fort Augustus.”

  She looked at him in shock. “Fort Augustus? That’s a long ride from here.” And it was where Cumberland was headquartered. She shivered in real fear, more fear than when she thought she was going to be arrested. She turned back to Iain. “Tell him the truth. Tell him it was me. He’ll believe ye. Ye can’t go to Fort Augustus.” She’d heard numerous horror stories of that place. A prison from which no one escaped unless they were dead.

  “Never,” Iain said. “I’d never willingly send you there. Find Sutherland and MacLean. They will help you.”

  Palmer rode up. “Enough whispering,” he said harshly. “It’s time to go.”

  With one last long look, Iain turned his mount and the three of them rode away.

  Chapter 31

  Cait wasted no time in getting to Sutherland’s home.

  She rode harder than she’d ever ridden before, fighting the panic and the tears, furious at both Iain and Palmer for being dim-witted fools. Palmer had to know that Iain would not kill an English soldier.

  Since standing above Donaldson’s dead body, she felt like she’d swallowed a pound of pistol balls, and they were ready to explode inside of her. None of this was going to end well, but she was damned if she was going to let Iain take the blame for something she had done.

  She arrived at Sutherland’s barely able to stand up, with tears clearing a path through the dirt on her face, the hem of her gown filthy. Sutherland met her at the door, no doubt warned that a crazed woman was riding through his land.

  “What happened?” He grabbed her upper arm when she swayed. He motioned for a lad to take the reins, and she gladly handed her horse off to him. The poor beast had never been ridden in such a way.

  “Iain,” she gasped between breaths.

  Sutherland drew back. “Campbell did this to ye?”

  In her panic and fright, she’d nearly forgotten about her bruised face. “Nay,” she said.

  “Oh my goodness.” Eleanor came out and hurried down the steps, taking Cait’s other arm. “You’ll be in need of a bracing cup of tea and a soft chair, no doubt.”

  Cait could only nod as she gulped in mouthfuls of air. Among some curious stares, the Sutherlands led her into the house and straight to Brice’s solar, where she was grateful for the peace and quiet. In her crisp no-nonsense English accent, Eleanor ordered a servant to bring some tea. Chattering away about nothing consequential, she led Cait to the most comfortable chair and gently pushed her into it. Cait was grateful for Eleanor clucking over her like a mother hen.

  Finally, Eleanor stood back, leaving Cait holding a cup of tea laced with whiskey. She took a sip because her throat was parched, but her hands were shaking so hard that she nearly spilled it. Eleanor rushed forward and took it from her.

  Sutherland crossed his arms and glared down at her. “Now tell me what happened.”

  “Iain was taken by the English.” Just saying the words made her want to be sick.

  “Why?”

  So suddenly that it made her dizzy, Cait’s anger surged through her. “Because he’s a hardheaded ijit who thinks he knows better than anyone else and won’t even stand still long enough to listen to anything.”

  Sutherland’s lips twitched and Eleanor covered her mouth with a dainty hand. “I mean why did the English take him?” Sutherland clarified.

  “Because they think he killed an English soldier.”

  Sutherland stilled. This was a very serious offense, and they all understood the ramifications. “They think he killed an English soldier?”

  “They think so because he told them he did it.”

  Sutherland sighed and took a seat behind his desk. “Mayhap ye should start from the beginning.”

  “He told them he killed Donaldson, but really I killed Donaldson.”

  Sutherland rubbed his head and Eleanor gasped.

  “Start from the beginning, Cait.”

  She told them about meeting Donaldson on her way to Alice’s house, about Donaldson arriving at her door, about running through the house to lure him into the woods so he wouldn’t find the refugees, and about the attack. She described how she’d bludgeoned Donaldson on the head twice and killed him.

  Here she faltered as the panic that she’d held at bay came back. “I’ve never killed anyone before,” she whispered. “I’m meant to heal.”

  “Sometimes it can’t be helped,” Sutherland said. “And sometimes it’s either you or the other person. You knew that ye weren’t getting out of that alive, and so ye killed him. No one can fault ye for that.”

  “The English army can.” Sutherland pressed his lips together, and she knew that he agreed with her. She went on, “They took him to Fort Augustus. We need to get him out of there, and I need to tell them that I killed Donaldson.”

  Eleanor pressed the teacup back into her hand and Cait wrapped her fingers around the warmth to take a big sip. The whiskey burned on the way down but warmed her all the way to her toes.

  “Ye said ye were far into the woods. How did the English find the body so quickly?”

  “I…” She hadn’t thought about that. “I don’t know. Ror—” She paused, thinking of her cousin showing up and then disappearing. For some reason she hadn’t told Iain that part, and she wasn’t certain she should tell Sutherland. Damn Rory. Where was he? What had happened to him after he left her cottage to bury Donaldson’s body? Something must have gone terribly wrong.

  “Ye must tell
me everything if we’re to help Campbell.”

  Cait looked into her teacup, not knowing what to do. If only Rory had returned to tell her what happened.

  “Rory came by after I returned from…Donaldson. We decided ’twas best if he buried the body. We thought that no one would discover Donaldson was missing for some time, as he was supposed to be up north.” She glanced quickly at Sutherland, but he was watching her impassively. “We all know what will happen to me when they discover I was the one who killed him.” Her voice wavered and she swallowed.

  “Where is Rory?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since he left my cottage. I think something terrible has happened to him. He wouldn’t just walk off and not come back.”

  “Obviously, he didn’t bury the body, and somehow it got moved.”

  She nodded miserably.

  “Tell me the rest.”

  “This morning Palmer arrived to tell Iain that Donaldson was killed, this time on Campbell land. The soldier who was with Palmer found Donaldson’s horse in my paddock.”

  Sutherland straightened. “What was Donaldson’s horse doing in yer paddock?”

  “I put him there. I didn’t know what else to do with him.”

  “And Palmer thought this suspicious.”

  She nodded. “I was going to confess, but then Iain said he killed Donaldson. I tried to tell Palmer the truth, but Iain wouldn’t allow it. The muddleheaded fool.” She looked up at Sutherland. “Why would he do such a thing?”

  “Because he loves ye.”

  She jerked and looked at him sharply. “How do ye know that?” Iain had just told her that morning.

  “Because I’m a muddleheaded fool as well.” He grinned at Eleanor.

  Cait’s heart felt like it was breaking in two. “We talked about marriage just that morning,” she said mostly to herself. “But I was too scared to make a commitment.”

  Eleanor put a comforting hand on Cait’s shoulder.

  “We need to find Rory,” Sutherland said.

  “We can’t sit around here while Iain is at Fort Augustus. I’ve heard terrible things of that place. We need to get him out.”

  “And how do ye propose to do that?” Sutherland asked.

  “Iain had a message for ye. He said to gather you and MacLean, that he’s calling in the favor ye both owe him.”

  Sutherland grinned. “The limey bastard,” he said in affection. “I knew he’d call that favor in soon. MacLean is no’ far from here. He’s been helping me some.”

  “What do you need from us?” Eleanor asked her. “Have you tended to your wounds?”

  “I just need Sutherland and MacLean to ride with me to Fort Augustus, but I fear we won’t be able to free Iain. What can the three of us possibly do?” Despair washed over Cait, but she refused to give up. Iain wouldn’t give up on her, and she wouldn’t do that to him.

  “Let me have someone fetch MacLean and we’ll talk then,” Sutherland said.

  “I’ll no’ be left out of this,” Cait warned Sutherland’s retreating back. “I want to be a part of it.”

  “Did I say I was leaving ye out of it, lass?”

  —

  “It’s near impossible to escape that place,” Colin MacLean said once he’d heard Cait’s story. She’d never met MacLean but had heard plenty about him. For a long while he was ridiculed as the reluctant chief who’d abandoned his people to the English soldiers who had taken over his home. He’d also been imprisoned where Iain was being taken, which gave her a wee bit of hope that he would know what to do to free Iain. His declaration chipped away at the hope.

  “But ye escaped,” she said.

  “Aye. With Campbell’s help.”

  “So ye’re saying that we should just leave him there?”

  Colin MacLean was a dark-haired, compact man with wide shoulders and glittering dark eyes that held a touch of humor. He was wed to the Sinclair lass who walked, talked, and dressed like a man, although Cait had heard that Maggie Sinclair was a changed woman since wedding MacLean.

  “Did I say that?” MacLean said irritably. “Stop putting words into my mouth. I said it was near impossible to escape, not completely impossible. When Iain helped me they allowed him into the prison because he was friends with Cumberland.” MacLean’s lips twisted when mentioning the Bloody Butcher, and Cait didn’t blame him. She had no love for the man who had marched into Scotland and killed every Scotsman in his path. “We don’t have that powerful a calling card,” MacLean went on. “But I’m certain we can think of something.”

  “If Maggie were here, she’d get them all drunk,” Sutherland said, and the two men chuckled. Cait was sure she was missing out on some private joke, but she didn’t care at the moment.

  “So what do ye suggest?” she asked.

  “I suggest we go in and ask Cumberland what we can do to help our friend,” MacLean said.

  They all looked at him as if he were daft.

  “Just walk in?” Cait asked.

  “And demand to speak to Cumberland,” Sutherland added in more of a statement.

  “We can’t break him out of prison,” MacLean said. “He’d be hunted, and he’d have to leave Scotland if he ever wanted to live in peace, and let’s face it, Scotland needs Campbell and the connections he has if we want to survive as a nation.”

  Sutherland lifted a brow.

  “I know that sounds odd coming from me,” MacLean said. “But it’s the truth. Anyway, Campbell has no heirs, so the English will more than likely take his land. The last thing we want is England owning more land in Scotland, and Campbell has quite a bit of it.”

  He had a very good point. Cait had been so focused on what it would mean for her to lose Iain that she’d not thought about what it would mean for Scotland to lose Iain. She thought of the times when she and Iain had spoken of the English and Scottish disagreements. Iain was certain that Scotland would lose the battle of being an independent nation and felt that what they needed was a good balance that would benefit both sides. Who would fight for Scotland now? No one straddled the English-Scottish line like Iain did.

  “Then we should walk in and ask for a meeting with Cumberland,” she said. “Is he even in Scotland?”

  They all looked at one another and shrugged. No one knew, but they were about to find out.

  —

  Sutherland refused to leave for Fort Augustus until the next morning, and Cait was beyond frustrated. Eleanor gave her a beautiful bedchamber, but Cait didn’t sleep. She was sitting at the window and looking out at the night sky, thinking of Iain, wondering if he was well, if he was alive, and why she’d wasted so much time with her trivial fears and worries, when someone knocked softly on her door. Before she could bid the person to enter, the door opened and a shadow scooted in and quickly shut it.

  Cait remained in her seat and watched the shadow flit toward her, wondering if she’d finally lost all good sense and was either dreaming or seeing things. Strangely, she wasn’t frightened. It was as if she’d lost that ability by this point.

  The shadow stopped before her, forming into the visage of a young girl, or an effeminate lad, or a woman, Cait couldn’t tell which.

  The person looked her up and down, hands on hips. She was small, almost fairy-like. Had the fairies sent someone to watch over her?

  The girl—woman—tilted her chin up at Cait, who wondered if it was some sort of greeting or acknowledgment.

  “Can I help ye?” Cait asked.

  “I’m Maggie MacLean.”

  Colin MacLean’s wife. Cait had heard of Maggie. The rumors that the lass liked to dress like a lad must be true, because Maggie was wearing a white shirt tucked into breeches. She was a slight thing but moved like a dancer, swift and graceful. Her hair was shorn, but it was becoming on her, curling around her face, accentuating her high cheekbones and large eyes.

  “It’s nice t’meet ye, Maggie MacLean.” Cait didn’t comment that it was odd to be meeting in the deep of the night in her own b
edchamber. Nothing seemed odd anymore.

  “Colin told me about yer problems,” Maggie said, still eyeing Cait. “It’s sorry I am about the Campbell.”

  “Thank ye.”

  Maggie’s eyes narrowed. “I thought…well, I thought maybe ye might want to talk, seeing as I’ve been a guest at Fort Augustus myself. I’m no’ sure I can ease yer mind about the Campbell, but I know what it was like, being there and all.”

  Cait’s heart softened, and tears sprang to her eyes at the thoughtfulness of Maggie MacLean. She was rough around the edges but clearly had a large heart.

  “I’m worried about him,” Cait said through a tight throat.

  “May I?” Maggie indicated the other half of the window seat where Cait was sitting.

  “Of course.” Cait scooted over and Maggie sat down, leaning against the wall so she was facing Cait. She pulled a booted foot up on the seat and rested her arm on her bent knee. Cait had never seen a woman sit in such a way—plenty of men, but not a woman.

  “Do ye think he’s still alive?” Cait whispered her worst fear, the one that she’d barely allowed herself to think.

  “Oh, aye,” Maggie said with conviction. “If there’s one thing the damned English like to do, it’s prolong the agony. They’ll no’ be through with him just yet.”

  Cait wasn’t sure whether that was good news or bad. He was alive, and she would cling to that hope.

  “Colin thought I might ease yer fears, but I think I’m doing the opposite,” Maggie said.

  “No. I want to hear this. I need to know. My imagination is probably far worse than what ye can tell me.”

  “It’s rough,” Maggie said softly. “They’re no’ nice to the Scots, that’s for certain.”

  “Even though they think he’s an ally?”

  Maggie shot her a veiled look. “That might help. But he’s also suspected of killing English soldiers.”

  “Soldier. Just one.”

  Maggie’s look turned to pity. “There have been a few more English soldiers killed. They’ll try to blame him.”

  Cait’s hand went to her throat and she swallowed. She’d not even thought about that. “How can we save him?” she asked.

  Maggie paused for so long that Cait began to lose hope.