Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(36)
Caitrina ignored the reference to her father and sighed; they’d had this conversation before. She glanced down at the worn plaid she wore over her plain sark and kirtle, knowing that Mor was right: She was barely recognizable from the pampered girl who’d delighted in beautiful gowns
and shoes. A few times she’d caught herself looking longingly at the pretty velvets and brocades offered by her aunt, but Caitrina just couldn’t bring herself to don fancy clothes and pretend nothing had happened. Such finery was a painful reminder of a charmed life that no longer existed. “A year ago, many things were different.”
Mor gave her a sad look. “I know, lass. I would give anything to be able to ease your suffering. But it might help if you talked about it.”
Caitrina stiffened. No, it wouldn’t. Keeping a tight rein on her emotions was all that kept her on her feet. “There is nothing to talk about,” she said firmly. “Nothing will bring them back. I just do not want to be a burden on my aunt and uncle.” What wealth she had left was in their lands—lands that were now in the hands of Argyll. As if he hadn’t taken everything from her already. But that would change.
“They don’t see you as such.”
“Which only makes it worse. I’ll not take advantage of their kindness, they’ve done so much for us already.”
Mor paused and gave her a long look. “You’ll not be able to hide here forever, Caiti. Eventually, someone must know that you survived.”
Her pulse quickened with a flash of fear. She knew her uncle couldn’t keep her hidden forever. He’d questioned her more than once about why it was so important that he not let it be known where she was. But how could she explain that she feared the man who’d been responsible for her clan’s destruction might not be done? Though it had been difficult communicating with any other survivors of the attack, it was said Jamie Campbell had been like a man possessed after the attack, searching for her.
She looked up at Toward Castle, the thick stone walls of the rectangular keep so reminiscent of Ascog, and felt the grip of panic—as if the walls were closing in. She couldn’t breathe. Spinning around, she headed back to the sea.
“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her voice laden with worry.
To the only place she felt safe. “I’ll be back before the midday meal,” Caitrina said. “I’ve something I must do.”
He’d waited long enough.
Jamie Campbell approached Toward Castle, knowing that months of effort and restraint would finally be rewarded. He did not deceive himself as to what Caitrina’s reaction would be; he’d seen the horror on her face when he’d carried her from that fiery hell and knew what she thought. He’d had nothing to do with the attack on her family—though the same could not be said of his clan. Damn his quick-tempered brother to hell. But she’d disappeared before he’d had a chance to explain.
It turned out he’d been right in his suspicions after all. Two days after Jamie had left for Castle Campbell to check on Lizzie, one of his guardsmen stationed on Bute had arrived at Dunoon with the proof they’d been waiting for: Alasdair MacGregor and his men had been spotted in the forest near Ascog. Jamie’s men had followed but had lost them in the hills.
Colin had seen his opportunity to further himself in the eyes of their cousin and decided not to send for Jamie but to take matters into his own hands and lead the mission himself. If only Jamie had found the MacGregors initially, this all could have been avoided.
Thankfully, Jamie’s loyal guardsman had decided to track him down at Castle Campbell near Stirling. Lizzie had indeed been attacked on her way to Dunoon but had been rescued by some Murrays. Jamie had just finished ensuring Lizzie’s protection by ordering the hiring of extra guardsmen for Castle Campbell, where she would be safe until the MacGregors were controlled, when his man arrived. Immediately guessing what might happen with his hotheaded brother eager to impress their cousin, Jamie rode at breakneck speed for Ascog. Alas, by the time he’d arrived, the battle was well under way.
He’d carried Caitrina from the burning keep and ensured her safety before he’d gone to help bring the battle and fire under control, in an attempt to salvage what he could of the black day. But by the time he returned, she was gone—spirited away by her loyal clansmen, leaving him no opportunity to explain.
Aye, there would be difficulties ahead, not least of which was his brother’s role in the death of her family, but he was determined to see this through.
Still, he was anxious. He’d been searching for her for a long time. He’d scoured the hills around Ascog for weeks after the attack, to no avail. It was as if she’d disappeared off the face of the earth. But he’d known that she’d survived and had refused to give up.
Of course, he’d thought to look for her at Toward Castle, but her uncle had adamantly denied knowledge of her whereabouts until faced with proof he couldn’t ignore, courtesy of the spies Jamie had thought to keep watch on the place. But negotiations with the Lamont of Toward had dragged on for too long, and Jamie’s patience was at an end.
The short ten-mile ride from Dunoon seemed interminable.
Horse and man crested the brae of Buachailean, the hill that lay just north of the castle. Reining in his mount, he paused, appraising the castle and surrounding area before riding in alone. He was expected, but it never hurt to be cautious.