Highland Scoundrel (Campbell Trilogy #3)(84)
Lizzie married? Duncan felt a pang in his chest, the knowledge bittersweet. He was happy for his sister, but how he would have liked to see Lizzie wed. But it did explain why she hadn't responded to his missive.
“I'm afraid this visit could not wait,” Jeannie said.
Jamie cocked a brow, intrigued. “Oh?”
Though he'd been glued to the conversation taking place before him, Duncan had stayed back in the crowd of guardsmen who'd dismounted behind their lady as she greeted the man known throughout the Highlands as Argyll's Enforcer—the position that would have belonged to him had treachery not driven him from home. Surprisingly, it wasn't resentment Duncan felt but pride.
The time had come. He stepped forward out of the shadows into the circle of light.
He felt his men tense at his side, knowing the moment of truth was upon them. He'd made Conall and Leif promise that if he was taken they would return to the rest of his men in Spain. When Leif reached for the handle of his dirk, Duncan shot him a look of reminder.
Catching the movement, Jamie glanced over Jeannie's shoulder and stilled. He did not need an introduction, recognition flickered in his eyes. The slight tightening around his mouth was the only visible reaction in his otherwise implacable façade. Their eyes met for a long pause. “I see the rumors were true,” Jamie said flatly. “I've been looking for you.”
Duncan tensed at the ominous greeting, half wondering whether his brother was going to call for the guards. “Happy to see him” would be a stretch.
He was saved from finding out by the sudden appearance of one of the most beautiful creatures he'd ever seen. She rushed down the stairs, cheeks flushed, a wide smile of greeting turning her sensuously curved mouth, and long ebony hair tumbling loose around her shoulders. Unless he was mistaken, this lovely creature was the infamous Caitrina Lamont, now Campbell.
She started to apologize for being late, when she caught one glance at her husband's face and stopped midsentence. She hurried to his side. “What is it? What's wrong?”
As Jamie's face was about as expressive as stone, Duncan wondered at her keen ability to discern her husband's moods. Had his brother made a love match? It seemed out of character for what he remembered of his practical, duty-bound brother. Though he better than anyone should know that love struck blindly—neither beggar nor king immune to its blow.
Jamie didn't answer, but turned his gaze to Duncan. Caitrina followed the direction of his stare and startled with such immediacy that Duncan knew the resemblance between the brothers was more pronounced than he'd realized. She wasn't as proficient as her husband at hiding her emotions and Duncan could see shock register across her exquisite features. He half expected her to cross herself—if Scotland were still Catholic she probably would have.
“Jesu!” she muttered instead. She immediately put her hand on Jamie's arm as if to calm him. Remarkably it seemed to work and some of the tension dissipated.
Caitrina recovered from her shock, recalled her duties as hostess, and turned to Jeannie to offer her a greeting. After exchanging pleasantries, she said, “You must be exhausted after such a long journey. I will have baths set up for your men in the kitchens and one will be sent up for you in the tower. The evening meal will be in about an hour—if you need anything before then you only have to ask. I hope you will be staying with us through Hogmanay?”
Jeannie shook her head. “I must return to Aboyne Castle well before the New Year. If I am not back before Christmas my daughter will never let me hear the end of it. I'm afraid I can only stay a week or so.”
Duncan stiffened. He could hear it in her voice: Her duty was done. Getting him here safely had repaid any obligation she might have felt.
Caitrina continued, “May I suggest we reconvene in the Great Hall?” Her gaze slid meaningfully to Duncan. “Your men will join us, of course.”
Jeannie nodded. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“It's a sacred obligation in the Highlands, but in this case also a pleasure,” Caitrina said with a charming smile. Her smile turned to a warning when she looked at Jamie. “Isn't that so, husband?”
The less than subtle reminder was not missed by his brother. “Aye,” he drawled, “even a traitor is safe tonight.”
And with that ominous warning, Jeannie was led into the keep by the laird and lady, leaving Duncan behind.
He supposed the initial reunion had gone better than he expected—at least he hadn't been tossed in the nearest dungeon. Whether Jamie's forbearance continued, however, remained to be seen.
He waited, hoping …
But Jeannie never looked back. She'd done as she vowed and brought him to his brother's, now it was up to him alone to make his case and keep the rope from his neck. He wished he knew how to keep the ache from his chest.
The two men stared at one another across the table, alone, after what seemed an infinitely long meal.
In the bright candlelight of the laird's solar, Duncan could better see why Caitrina Lamont had reacted as she did. Except for hair color and the difference of a handful of years between them, he and Jamie could have been twins. If his identity had been secret before, to anyone who saw them together it wouldn't be any longer. He'd done his best to sit far away from Jamie during the evening meal and keep his face down on his meal, but undoubtedly some of the clansmen had realized who he was, which gave him even less time in which to convince his brother.