Highland Scoundrel (Campbell Trilogy #3)(41)

But appeasing his cousin's wounded pride was not what Duncan was thinking about right now. “Our father?” he asked Colin, relieved to see his brother had followed his orders and returned to the castle.

Colin's face was pale and streaked with dirt and blood, his eyes unfocused. He appeared in shock by the events of the day. Duncan couldn't blame him.

“He lives,” Colin replied. His relief, however, was tempered by his brother's next words. “But he has not woken since we left the battlefield.”

“Where is he? I must go to him.”

“In the laird's bed chamber,” Argyll said. “But I will have your report first.”

Duncan recounted the events after his cousin had left the field, emphasizing the courage and fortitude of the MacLeans and their chief.

“Where is MacLean? Why is he not here to tell of this himself?” Archie demanded.

“He took a pike in the arm and is having it tended.”

“Our losses?”

Duncan met his gaze. “At least five hundred men.” He didn't need to mention the thousands of untrained rabble who had deserted at the first cannonade.

“And Huntly?”

“Far fewer.” Duncan would guess no more than a score—he and his men had been responsible for half of them.

Archie's gaze hardened, his eyes shone black as onyx. “They knew our positions. They knew our battle plan.”

A murmuring of agreement went around the table. Campbell of Cawdor spoke up. “Aye, they may as well have had a map, so well did they anticipate our movements . ‘Twas probably Grant's doing.” He shrugged. “He must have sent a man after our meeting last night.”

The mention of Grant seemed to unhinge his cousin. His face flushed crimson. “The filthy, lying viper.” He banged his fist on the table. “He will pay for his treachery.” He motioned to one of the guardsmen who stood by the door. “You there. Go, find out who was seen leaving the castle last night.”

Duncan swore silently, hoping that no one had taken note of his departure. He'd rather not have to explain his meeting with Jeannie. Especially now.

“If that is all, cousin, I should like to go and see my father.”

“Go,” Argyll said, waving him away. He was almost to the door, when he stopped him. “Wait. Before you go, leave the map.”

Duncan opened his sporran, pulled out the parchment and handed it to his cousin. He turned to leave again, when Argyll said, “What's this? A note?”

Damn. In his haste to see his father he must have accidentally handed Archie Jeannie's note.

He held his expression impassive and opened his sporran again, this time looking as he rifled through the contents. He frowned. Where was it?

“Is there a problem?” Argyll asked, the barest hint of uncertainty creeping into this voice.

“I can't seem to find it. I must have lost it during the battle.”

If the room was quiet before, it was dead silent now. He didn't need to look around to know that all eyes were fixed on him. He felt a burst of anger, knowing that there were many in this room who would be suspicious of him simply for his blood alone. But Archie would never doubt his loyalty. Duncan's actions on the battlefield spoke for themselves. He would dare any man in this room to say otherwise.

He held his hand out for the return of the missive, but his cousin hesitated. He was tempted to snatch it back, but doing so would only make it look as if he had something to hide.

“Who is it from? It appears to be a woman's hand.”

Duncan gritted his teeth and squared his jaw. “‘Tis a private matter.”

Only when his cousin unfolded it and started to read, did he recall the wording: Come quickly … we must act immediately. Wording that might provoke question in even the staunchest of hearts.

His cousin looked up at him with a strange look on his face. “When did this arrive?”

Duncan did not shirk from the truth. “Last night.”

“After the council?”

“Aye.”

“I warned you to let nothing interfere with your duty to me. Perhaps you should have been focusing on the father rather than the daughter. Convincing Grant to join us was your responsibility.”

Duncan heard Colin's sharp intake of breath when he understood the implication of Argyll's words. Damn. He hadn't wanted Colin to find out like this.

Shock registered on his brother's features. “Jean Grant? You were with my betrothed last night?” he asked, accusation ringing in his voice.

“You are not betrothed. It is complicated, I will explain everything, I swear, but later.” He looked back to Argyll. “My relationship with Grant's daughter has nothing to do with this.” His cousin's criticism, however, was not as easily dismissed. “Perhaps I should have anticipated treachery, but I am not the only one in this room who Grant fooled.” His father, Argyll, all of them had believed Grant's anger against Huntly to be real. “If you have something you wish to accuse me of, cousin, do it. Otherwise I shall go to see my father.” Who took a bullet intended for you. But he left that unsaid.

He waited and when his cousin said nothing, turned and left the room. Archie hadn't accused him of anything, but neither had he defended him. With all that Duncan had been through today, the realization that his cousin could even remotely harbor suspicion toward him stung.