Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(84)

The truth. It was the truth, she realized. “I believe you, but what you knew won’t matter. You negotiated the surrender, and you will take the blame for what happened. It will be assumed that you knew what your cousin intended.”

He grimaced. “Aye. I said much the same to my cousin.” His anger at Argyll seemed real enough. Maybe good could come of this after all—if Jamie broke with his cousin. “And what justification did he offer for betraying you like this?”

Jamie sighed. “I don’t think he thought about how this would affect me at all. He’s been under extreme pressure from the king to quiet the Highlands and Alasdair MacGregor in particular. These past few months, he’s thought of little else. But no matter how justified the MacGregor’s death, the trick was unworthy of him.”

She couldn’t believe it. “He still has your loyalty?”

His jaw hardened at the implied criticism. “He does. My first impulse was to turn in my sword, but I realized that to do so would be shortsighted. I’m well aware of my cousin’s failings. Argyll isn’t perfect, but I still believe that ultimately he is the best hope for the Highlands. Neither side is one hundred percent right, Caitrina, but eventually we all must pick one.”

The observation struck her—he was right. It wasn’t just a question of who was right and who was wrong. No matter how much she wished it were easy, eventually she would have to choose. This was what it meant to grow up. The ignorance of her youth had been deceptively simple.

“For me,” he continued, “the balance still weighs strongly in favor of my cousin. He has the power to make change and wants the same things I do.”

“And what is that?”

“Peace. Safety. Land for our people. Argyll has a blind spot where the MacGregors are concerned, but he’s fiercely loyal to his friends and a fair chief.”

“Fair? How can you say that after what he did to you?”

“That’s just it, it wasn’t to me at all.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “You don’t know him like I do.”

Nor did she wish to. “What is this bond between you?”

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, then finally decided to answer her. “How much do you know about my father?”

“Very little.” Only what Meg confided and what she’d picked up here and there.

“He died at the battle of Glenlivet, taking a musket shot meant for Argyll, barely a year after my mother passed. Elizabeth and I spent most of our time with my cousin and the former countess at Inveraray. Argyll has been like a father to me. My own believed in him enough to give his life for him, and that is not something I take lightly.”

Caitrina knew there was much he was leaving out—about his eldest brother in particular—but the gist was clear. There was a personal connection between Jamie and Argyll that went far deeper than she’d realized. They were not simply chief and captain, but family bound by blood and sacrifice.

“And for his part,” he continued, “my cousin has always looked out for Elizabeth and me. I was barely ten and eight when he made me a captain and not much older than that when he started having me represent him to the Privy Council. I owe him much for my position and fortune—he’s provided me opportunities for advancement not common to a third son.”

It sounded as though Argyll’s indebtedness to Jamie’s father had extended to the son. But it was also clear that the bond between Argyll and Jamie ran in both directions.

“His actions have stretched my loyalty to the breaking point, but it is still there. He wronged me,” Jamie admitted. “Badly. And he knows it. But it won’t happen again.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I am. That’s all. You’ll have to trust me. My cousin is not a perfect man, but I believe in him and what he is doing.”

Could she do that? How could she reconcile the man she’d come to care for as the loyal captain of a man she could not abide?

“So that’s it. You forgive him just like that?”

“No.” He hesitated, looking as if he wanted to say something. “It’s not that simple. When the time comes, my cousin will make amends.”

“How? Will he clear your name and publicly absolve you of complicity with his treachery in the death of the MacGregor?”

A wry smile curved Jamie’s mouth and he shook his head. “No one would believe him if he did.”

The discussion with Caitrina had gone better than he’d expected. Jamie had been tempted to confess his bargain with his cousin, but in doing so, he would have to tell her the rumors about her brother and he still wasn’t sure he wanted to do that.

She’d been upset by the news of the MacGregor’s death but not shocked, which made him wonder whether she’d already heard about it. He would soon find out.

Jamie made his way down the stairs and across the great hall to the laird’s solar, knowing his men were waiting for him.

What he would really like was a hot bath and food, but both would have to wait—as would a proper reunion with his wife.

His body hardened at the memory of their passionate kiss and how good it had felt to hold her in his arms again. Too good.

If he hadn’t been in such a sorry state, he might have showed her exactly how much he’d missed her—not that his rough appearance had seemed to bother her any. His mouth curved. His wee princess apparently had a wild streak.