The Hunter (Highland Guard #7)(73)

There was something more at work here than simply his view on traditional roles for men and women. Obviously, he was speaking from personal experience. “Tell me what happened.”

His jaw clenched so tightly she could see the muscle below it start to tic. “It was a few years ago—not long after we landed in Scotland after being forced to take refuge in the Isles for a few months.” She swallowed. It was when her brother Duncan had been killed. “We were being hunted, the tide had not yet turned, and a handful of villagers—mostly women and children—helped to hide us in the hills. The English found out, and when we returned to thank them,” his eyes met hers, “there wasn’t anyone left to thank. The women had been raped and beaten before they’d had their throats slit. Only one lass survived.”

Janet gasped. Though he’d spoken with his usual bluntness, she could hear the emotion in his voice and realized how horrible it must have been. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Of course, it was,” he snapped. “We asked them for help, never imagining the risk we were asking them to take.”

“But they would have done it anyway,” she said softly. “Even knowing, they would have helped you.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Because I would have done the same.”

He stared at her, not saying anything for a moment. “Why is being a courier so important to you?”

“The why shouldn’t matter. The fact that it is should be enough.” Was it too much to hope that a man could understand that? “I do not ask you why you do what you do. Just because I don’t wear armor and carry a sword doesn’t make what I do any less important.” She paused. “This war won’t be won by the sword alone, Ewen. How do you think Bruce’s phantoms know the right place to attack?” He was watching her intently. “Good intelligence passed by couriers.”

She left it at that, not wanting to say more.

He seemed to consider what she’d said, but whether he gave it any weight, she couldn’t tell. “Is this about your sister?”

She stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to prove yourself or atone for what happened at the bridge. Mary doesn’t blame you. If you only knew how desperate she’s been to find you, and how anxious she is to have you back.”

Janet’s heart devoured every word. Was it true? She wanted to believe him and yearned to question him, but that would mean acknowledging to herself that his words held some truth. “My sister has nothing to do with this. Isn’t it enough to want to help? Must there always be a further reason? How about you—why are you here, Ewen? What made you decide to be one of Bruce’s phantoms?”

He shot her a glare but didn’t take the bait. “I joined Bruce’s army because my liege lord, and a man I respected above all others, asked me to do so. I’ve stayed to keep my clan from extinction.”

Her eyes widened at the blunt honesty. No patriotic fever or talk of freedom and tyranny from him, just ambition and reward. “Your father?” she asked.

It took him a moment to realize what she meant. When he did, he laughed. “Hardly. My father was not a man to inspire much devotion. Nay, I speak of the former steward—Sir James Stewart.”

Janet couldn’t hide her surprise. Was that the lord he’d spoken of who’d fostered him? The Stewart Lords of Bute were one of the most important clans in the country. “You are connected to the Stewarts?”

A wry smile turned his mouth, as if he guessed the direction of her thoughts. “Not closely. My mother was Sir James’s cousin—his favorite, as it happened.” Seeing her confusion, he sighed as if resigning himself to having to say more. “My mother was betrothed to the Chief of Lamont when she met my father—one of his chieftains—and decided to marry him instead. Needless to say, the Lamont chief was not happy. He went to war with my father and would have destroyed him without Sir James’s help.” He shook his head. “Ironically, it was my father being cut off from the rest of the clan that gave me the ability to save it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like the MacDougalls, the MacDowells, and the Comyns, my cousin—the current chief—and his clansmen stood against Bruce and have been exiled and had the clan lands dispossessed, except for my lands in Ardlamont. Were it not for my connection to the Stewarts, and thus to Bruce, I would be with them. As it stands, I am the last Lamont in Cowal. My clan lives or dies with the skill of my sword, so to speak.”

Janet was stunned. No wonder he seemed so stubborn and single-minded about every mission. The future of the once great clan rested on his broad shoulders. But something else he’d said gave her a whisper of possibility. “You are a chieftain?”

He held her gaze. “Do not be too impressed, my lady. It is a minor holding only—with half a castle.”

Her brows furrowed, not understanding the sarcasm. “Until the king rewards you with more for your service?”

He shrugged. “If that is his will.”

She eyed him speculatively. Though he’d said it with nonchalance, she sensed how much it mattered to him. This was what drove him. Reward and a position for his clan under a Bruce kingship.

It also provided another explanation for why he’d stopped. Despoiling the king’s sister-in-law was hardly likely to ingratiate him to Robert.