Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(17)
Jamie fought to keep his temper in check, knowing that she spoke out of ignorance and didn’t understand the complexity of the issues facing the Highlands or the centuries-long dispute between the MacGregors and the Campbells over lands—lands to which the MacGregors had no legal claim. But he felt a strange urge to explain. “My cousin seeks to put an end to the lawlessness that has plagued the Highlands and protect the innocent, and believe me, the MacGregors are not innocent. Do not romanticize their plight; they are not the Robin Hood and Merry Men of legend. Nor have they been blameless in what has happened to them.”
She wrenched free, breathing hard, eyes flashing. “So they deserve to be hunted and butchered?”
His gaze hardened. “They deserve to be brought to justice for their considerable crimes.”
Her voice dripped with mockery. “What about your crimes? Have the Campbells not been accused of similar injustices? Has your cousin not burned people off their land?”
“Unlike the MacGregors, we do not break the law.”
“How convenient, since you are the law.”
His mouth tightened. “I am the man who wants to make it so that you can ride the countryside without fear of attack.”
“By fear, force, and intimidation.”
He took a step closer, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms and quiet her ridiculous accusations. His patience stretched taut by this brazen lass with her flashing eyes and red lips that begged to be kissed, a lass who said things to him that no one had dared before—no one. “By whatever means the law provides,” he said tightly.
“Does that include cutting off heads for a bounty?”
He knew she referred to the recent enactment by the Privy Council giving not just a reward, but the dead man’s possessions to the bearer of a MacGregor head. “I’ve seen grisly things on both sides that would give you nightmares for years. You are a woman. Men are not so squeamish about such things—’tis the Highland way.”
“And that makes it right?”
“The government has found it effective.”
“Don’t you mean your cousin has found it effective, since he is the government? Or would like to make himself so.”
“My cousin seeks to unify the Highlands—with the support of most of the chiefs through bonds of manrent. Without authority, the alternative is a return to the fractious feuding of clans. Is that what you want?” If it wasn’t the Campbells, it would be the Mackenzies or Gordons, but there was no doubt it would be someone.
She thrust up that adorable chin and boldly met his gaze. “It’s not what is good for the Highlands, but greed that motivates King Campbell.”
Jamie clenched his jaw, furious to be taken to task by a sheltered, pampered girl with little understanding of the harsh realities of the world. “You spout rumor and hyperbole as if it were fact. But what do you really know, Caitrina? You are a cosseted girl who lives in a glass castle, protected by your father and brothers. Somehow I doubt your father takes you into his confidence.” Her flush proved the truth of his observation. “But beyond the gates of your keep is the real world, a world that is not black and white as you would make it, but much more complicated. Before you are so quick to judge, make sure you know the facts.”
She turned away from him, a stubborn set to her slim shoulders. “I know everything I need to know.”
Her unqualified rejection shouldn’t bother him, but it did. Condemnation such as hers was common enough, but somehow coming from this lass it felt different. He took her arm and spun her back toward him, catching her against his legs and chest. His body surged with heat and anger. She struggled against him, but he held fast. One way or another, she would listen. “And what of you, Caitrina? What do you want? More men to fawn over your beauty? More jewels and costly gowns?”
She gasped with outrage. “You know nothing of what you speak.”
“I know that your father can deny you nothing, that you traipse around here dressed like a queen—even in the stables—but that the feuding has taken its toll on your clan.” His gaze passed from her fine silks to the rusty tools lined up against the faded, lime-washed walls of the barn, and he could see her sudden realization. “I know that you reject every man who comes before you so you don’t have to leave the comfort and safety of your little kingdom. I know that your father was widowed many years ago and yet has never remarried. Why do you think that is, Caitrina? Is it because he worries that it would upset you and the position you have claimed in the household?”
She flinched as if he’d slapped her. It was clear no one had ever talked this way to her. “You’re wrong!” she seethed, her cheeks crimson and lovely br**sts heaving. But he saw the flicker of uncertainty.
He released her, knowing he’d said enough. Stepping back, he dragged a hand through his hair, giving his body a chance to calm. He hadn’t meant to speak so harshly, but her curt dismissal of his suit—a suit he’d never intended to actually pursue—had pricked his anger. Her prejudice against the Campbells was all too common throughout the Highlands, but this lass with her bold tongue and naïve accusations had penetrated his armor like no other.
He strode toward the door and turned to look at her one more time. She stood stone still, her face pale and hands clenched at her side. Strong and proud, but surprisingly fragile. His words had left their mark. He felt a twinge of guilt, an urge to comfort, but quickly forced it aside. He’d spoken the truth; it was time Caitrina Lamont heard it. Her father was doing her no favors in keeping her ignorant of the problems and unrest in the Highlands. If Jamie’s suspicions about Alasdair MacGregor proved true, the real world would rain down on her soon enough.