They had failed, and now the lass was starting to sway the rest of the clan in her favor. If they allowed her to live much longer, she was going to have a legion of followers.
And their plans would be doomed.
“Failure is not part of our way,” he started, his hand sweeping across the burned wall. “And our ways are meant to make our clans stronger, Scotland stronger.”
“Aye,” the group agreed, though some of their original fervor no longer heard in their words.
He was disgusted by their response. He had been carrying this group at the helm for many years, and now he was growing tired of their weakness and excuses.
“Tomorrow,” he stated in a near growl. “Tomorrow is Beltane day, and it will be our day of reckoning. The lass will die, and we will assume power.”
The group murmured in agreement, and he stalked off before he did skewer them with his sword. He did not feel as if they were continuing to agree with him, that they still had the objective in mind and was going to see it through to the end.
Had the lass already infiltrated his own group?
Outside, in the misty night air, he drew a breath, thinking about how close they had come to taking her out of her power and what it would take to do so now.
Now there was the matter of the Mcaiwn warrior they had to deal with, but he was not worried. Once the lass was dead, the warrior would be beside himself with grief. He had seen the looks between them, and there was little doubt that the warrior cared for the lady.
He would be an easy kill. A grieving man did not think about his surroundings, even a seasoned warrior at that.
He himself had grieved when his own son had been killed serving the former laird. He had taken his son and given him back to the gods, but the anguish still simmered deep down.
But he had not allowed it to take him over, instead focusing his efforts on what truly mattered.
The clan mattered, though this group no longer mattered to him. He was ready to sacrifice them all for the greater good, and if he was the only one that remained, then so be it.
He had not taken his eye off the objective.
Sighing, he allowed the mist to brush his face, whispering a prayer of strength to the gods that had blessed him with this position, with this clan. He was only doing their bidding, giving the ancestors before them the right to see the clan move into a position of power.
Something that the current leader could not do. She was not bloodthirsty enough. She would not smite down their enemies, make them pay for their insolence.
She would not bring the clan to the right position in Scotland. He knew her type. She wanted peace, not war.
He wanted to have all of Scotland acknowledge that they could not be defeated.
The only way for that to happen was for them to rid themselves of the leader that could not take them to the helm of Scotland.
When that happened, then the McDougal clan would be able to finally reach where they should have always been.
Even Liam McDougal could not bring them there, but he would. He would bring them amongst the greatest clans in all of Scotland and reign supreme.
And tomorrow, at Beltane, everyone would see that he had the best interests of the clan in mind.
17
Cameron woke with a start as the sun was creeping over the moors, his heart racing in his chest. His dream—nightmare—had been filled with Katherine dying in his arms repeatedly, and he was unable to save her.
Now, though, his wife lay slumbering in his arms, her breathing causing him to begin to breathe once more. He had lain awake long after she had fallen asleep, holding her close and replaying the words that she had said to him in the throes of passion.
She had told him that she loved him. Cameron had not believed that she could love him at all. He had thought perhaps in time she could come to care for him while he loved her from afar, but there was no mistaking what Katherine meant last evening.
How he wished to say the words to her!
Careful not to wake her, he turned her over in his arms, staring at her lovely face lax with sleep. This woman humbled him. She made him burn with passion just for her, made him want to be a better Scot. Gone was the man who drunkenly stumbled into taverns after battles, the same one who had thought his dream was to have a farm to himself to live out the remainder of his days.
He could still have the farm, but the lass in his arms deserved far better than some musty hut and hard labor.
She deserved the keep around her. She deserved to bring this clan back to its former glory and provide them with the heirs that would take them into the next generation.
She deserved his love, and he wanted to tell her.
Easing her out of his arms, Cameron climbed out of bed and dressed quickly, strapping his weapons to his body methodically. Today was an important day for this clan, a way to usher in the summer and the crops that would follow with the peaking of the warm weather. Already the great hall was decorated with the yellow flowers signaling the first of May, and this evening, a large bonfire would be lit to celebrate deep into the night.
But for Cameron, who usually enjoyed the revelry of Beltane, he had a far different role in mind. His role was to keep his wife safe. He wasn’t even going to attempt to keep her in this chamber. She would hate him for missing out on an important chance for her to join her clan, and he would not want to take that from her.
He would ensure that she was safe, even if he had to tie her to his side.
After rounding up his wife’s breakfast, Cameron climbed the stairs to his chamber and opened the door. “Good morning,” he told her as he set the tray on the table.
Katherine was seated before the mirror, brushing her long hair. “Good morning, Husband. Did ye sleep well?”
“Aye,” he lied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Today is an important day for ye.”
She turned to face him. “For us, for our clan. This is yer home too, Cameron. I hope ye know that.”
His home was wherever she was. He didn’t care if they moved out on the moors and lived out of a cave as long as he was with her. “Aye, I do.”
She eyed his warrior garb. “Are ye going tae wear that?”
Cameron looked down at his clothing with a frown. “Aye. I am yer warrior today, not yer husband.”
Katherine let out a huff as she stood, placing her hand on his chest. His heart started galloping immediately when she touched him, and he wanted to toss up her skirts had have his way with her. “Ye’re still mah husband, but if ye insist on being a warrior today, then I will enjoy that as well as long as ye are by mah side.”
Cameron captured her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “Did ye mean it?” He did not have to say anything else. She knew well enough what he was talking about.
Her eyes softened, and she cupped his cheek with her other hand. “Of course, I meant it. I love ye. There is no reason to hide it.”
Before he could say anything, she dropped her touch and turned toward the tray he had brought. “Is it safe for me to take my fare?”
“Aye.”
She loved him. There was no denying her words from last night, nor had she said them in the throes of passion alone. Katherine seated herself at the small table before the fire, and Cameron strode over, seating himself before her. “I love ye as well, lass,” he said quietly.
Her fork clattered to the plate and Katherine’s mouth opened. “Wot?”
He smirked. “Ye heard me.” He would say it again if she asked, the words coming out far easier than he had thought.
“I didnae,” Katherine replied faintly. “Say it again.”
He reached over and grasped her hand gently, staring into her eyes. “I love ye. I’ve never loved another the way I love ye.”
Tears glimmered in her eyes, and she gasped, causing Cameron to come around the table and gather her into his arms. “Take me tae bed and love me,” she said against his shoulder. “Please.”
He would like nothing more.
Hefting her into his arms, he carried her to their bed.
There were no words for what followed between them.
After some time, he and Katherine descended the stairs. The doors to the keep were thrown open, with her warriors lining the keep’s entrance as they stepped out. Cameron nodded at each one, silently thanking them for their protection. Now that his feelings for his lady were out in the open, he wanted to protect her even more. What they had experienced between them was nothing short of something to be cherished.
They stepped out together in the courtyard, and Cameron’s eyes scanned the walls, satisfied to see more warriors lining them, looking for any danger now that they were out of the keep. It was no monumental feat keeping Katherine safe now, and he would not breathe any easier until they were in the safety of their chamber once more.
Katherine took the torch that had been lit for the fire she would start, the same fire that would light the fireplaces in the huts of the village below. The Beltane fire would reach far and wide on McDougal land, and the next morning would usher in a new summer months’ full of fertility and abundance of crops.
Katherine held the torch aloft, the fire illuminating her face. “I light this fire for the sake of our clan. May the crops be in abundance, and the land be blessed by the gods!”
Cheers went up as she dropped the torch into the large pile of wood, the fire catching nearly immediately in a whoosh. Cameron eased out a breath as Katherine smiled at him, love reflecting in her eyes. She was his fire.
Something whizzed by his face, and Cameron paused for mere seconds before he realized what was happening. “Cover the lady!” he yelled, pulling out his sword as another arrow whizzed by, striking the warrior next to him.
They were under attack!
Cameron’s blood ran cold as he realized he had mistaken the guards on the walls as his own.
Now they had the advantage, their arrows finding and hitting their targets. Cameron ran over to the ladder and started to ascend, motioning for his warriors to do the same. They had to get up to the parquet and stop their attackers, or everyone in the courtyard would be dead.
Another arrow narrowly missed him as his feet landed on the wood. He wielded his sword toward the nearest attacker, slicing him through and sending him falling to the ground below. He couldn’t think about Katherine right now, knowing that the warriors would get her back into the keep quickly, where she would be safe.
It was his worst nightmare, and he was living it.
He put his sword through three more men before he ran out of wall to cross over, making his way back to the other side where his warriors had already taken out the rest of the threat.
Then and only then did Cameron allow himself to look down at the courtyard below. Bodies littered the ground and his throat twisted as he tried to find Katherine amongst the bodies.
He didn’t see her; a small measure of relief flooded him. She had made it to the keep.
Cameron made his way down the ladder and surveyed his warriors, grimacing as he noted the arrows that the healers were starting to work on. “Mah wife,” he said, grabbing one of them. “Where is she?”
“The keep, mah lord,” the woman stated as she knelt next to one of the warriors.
He wasted no time moving inside the keep, where a crush of people were hurrying around, bringing in the wounded so they could be tended to. He moved through the keep, grabbing Trevor’s arm as he passed. “Have you seen Katherine?”
Trevor’s eyes were stained with tears. “Aye, Cameron.”
“Where is she?”
Trevor took him over to the fireplace, where a woman was laid out before the fire, the healers fervently working over her. Cameron went numb as he recognized Katherine’s dress she had donned after their lovemaking, the one he had lovingly laced up nearly two hours past.
“No,” he said, starting toward her.
Trevor held him back, his grip tight on his shoulder. “Let them work, Cameron. She’s still alive.”
Cameron’s knees buckled, and Trevor had to hold him aloft, his eyes filling with tears. That was his wife, his love, the woman who had given him so much lying there, clinging to life.
He couldn’t breathe.
One of the healers noticed him and wiped the blood from her hands as she approached him, her expression sorrowful. “The arrow hit her in the shoulder,” she stated firmly. “It went clean through, and we were able to stop the bleeding, but as she fell, she hit her head hard. It knocked her unconscious.”
“Is she...” He couldn’t finish the statement.
“Nay,” she stated as Trevor gripped his shoulder, giving him the strength. “She’s alive, mah lord, and we need to move her up to the chamber for comfort. The next day will determine her fate. ’Tis left up to her now.”
“We will get her moved,” Trevor declared, motioning for some of the uninjured warriors to come and help.
“Nay,” Cameron choked out. He needed to feel her in his arms, to know that she was breathing and was still with him. “I will carry her.”
So he did. Carefully, he lifted Katherine into his arms and carried her to their chamber, noting how pale her skin was as he laid her on their bed. The healers bustled about as he smoothed the hair away from her face, his stomach turning as he saw the blood that stained her dress.
Stepping back, he thrust his hands in his hair as the healers took over, carefully peeling away the dress and exposing the ugly wound that marred her pale skin, dangerously close to ending her life.
She once asked him about his scars; now she would have one of her own if she survived.
The tears clogged his throat, and he moved away from the bed to stand before the fire. Trevor joined him, thrusting a tankard at him. “Here,” he said gruffly. “You need this.”
Cameron took the tankard and drained it in a few swallows, knowing that it was going to take more than a few tankards of ale for him to forget the sight of blood on his wife’s dress. After he finished, he placed it on the table. “I want their heads on a platter,” he growled, staring into the fire. “I want their blood on mah hands.”
“Aye, so do I,” Trevor stated, anger in his voice. “And we will. The others are already seeking out any evidence that will give us an idea of who it could be.”
Cameron gave him a short nod, keeping his eyes on the fire so the warrior could not see the tears there. He had failed her. He had failed to keep Katherine safe, and now she was fighting for her life.
Later, after the healers had done the best they could and a few more tankards of ale, Cameron allowed himself to approach the bed. She had been in this same bed hours before, smiling up at him as he had thrust into her.
Now those eyes were closed, and he desperately wanted to see them open. He dropped into the chair next to the bed and took her hand in his, rubbing a thumb over it. “I’m sorry,” he forced out, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry, love.”
She didn’t answer. He laid his head on the bed, letting the tears fall. He didn’t want to have a life without her.
He didn’t want to know what it would feel like not to wake up next to her each morning, to have her in his arms and see her brilliant smile when he said something that made her laugh.
Cameron needed her in his life. “Please,” he whispered, allowing the tears to fall unchecked on her hand. “Please Katherine, dinnae leave me.” He had so much to tell her, to show her about how he cared for her. He wanted to keep her laughing for the rest of her days, to hear her say that she loved him, and they would spread that love to their children.
This could not be the end for them.
18
Searing pain shot through her as she jolted awake, finding the chamber drenched in darkness. She blinked her eyes, feeling her head ache with the tiniest movement.
What had happened to her?
The last thing she remembered was catching Cameron’s eye after lighting the bonfire and feeling the love that was reflected in his expression.
Then somethin
g slammed into her shoulder, and the world had gone black.
Cameron.
Fighting through the pain, Katherine turned her head and found Cameron resting next to her in a chair, his head slumped to his chest and his eyes closed. He was breathing easy, and she let out a breath of her own, grateful that he looked no worse for wear. She tried to move her shoulder and cried out, sending Cameron bolting upright in an instant. “Katherine,” he croaked, kneeling beside the bed. “Nay, lass, dinnae move.”
“Wot happened?” she asked as she took in his bleary eyes.
“Ye were shot with an arrow, love. I failed ye.”
“Oh, Cameron,” she sighed, reaching up to touch his unshaven cheek. “Ye didnae fail me.”
He captured her hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth. “I did,” he whispered. “I failed ye, and ye nearly died because of it.”
She detested the fact that he was taking the burden on his shoulders. “Tell me wot happened.”
So he did, his voice hitching with emotion as he finished the story to where he learned of her injury. “Does it hurt?” he finally asked.
“Mah head aches,” she said honestly. “Mah shoulder feels like it’s aboot tae fall off. This time I didnae escape with just a brush.”
“Nay,” he said tenderly, dropping her hand. “I am going tae get the healer.”
She watched him walk away, tears stinging her eyes as she thought of what he had gone through. She was going to be fine, of course, but it seemed that her husband was not.
The healer hurried to Katherine’s side, and Katherine allowed her to check the wound. “I can give ye something for yer head,” she stated after replacing the bandage. “And for the pain in yer shoulder. It will likely make ye fall asleep, though, mah lady.”
“I will watch over her,” Cameron stated. “Give her the medicines.”
Highlander’s Royal Blood: A Steamy Scottish Medieval Historical Romance Page 11