The Ranger (Highland Guard #3)(106)

She took a seat on the bench opposite her father, folding her hands in her lap. The intensity of his gaze was making her vaguely uncomfortable. He was angry, and it wasn’t about the interruption.

“If you have something to tell me, you are too late.”

Her heart sank. “T-tell you?”

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his sporran and tossed it on the table before her. A chill swept across the back of her neck when she recognized the map. “Aye,” he said. “Like where you’d seen this before.”

Shame flooded her cheeks. How had he found out?

He answered her question for her. “Your reaction. Looking for him right away confirmed the source.”

Had her father been watching them the whole time? Nay, maybe in the courtyard, but he couldn’t have seen them in the garden—it wasn’t visible from the Hall. Yet he’d obviously seen enough.

“I expected better from you, Anna.”

She bowed her head, his disappointment cutting sharply. She had no excuse. She wanted to say she hadn’t been sure, but she had. The moment she’d seen the map, she’d known he was a spy. “I’m sorry, Father. I wanted to give him a chance to explain.”

Her father’s voice was as biting as a whip. “And did he ‘explain’ to your satisfaction?”

She shook her head. Though she knew she had a duty to tell him everything, the words were still difficult to say. Arthur was gone, she reminded herself. “He is loyal to Bruce.” She paused, peering up at him cautiously. “He said that Bruce has won the hearts of the people. That he is Scotland’s best chance to be free of English tyranny for good. And that we are going to lose and should submit.”

Her father’s face turned red with rage. “And you believed him? Arthur Campbell would have said anything to gain your sympathy. You foolish girl, he was using you to escape. We will never submit and we will not lose.”

She wondered at his certainty and bit her lip, hesitating to mention the rest. Her father was angry enough with her. But she had to put this behind her. “He claims that he was there when you killed his father and saw the whole thing.”

The slight flicker in his gaze could have been anything, but her heart stopped.

“That’s impossible,” he dismissed. “I don’t know what he saw, but Colin Mor and I had fallen away from the group. We were alone when we fought. In any event, I have never denied that he fell by my sword. Or that my victory for our clan was the cause of the Campbells losing their lands around Loch Awe. If Arthur Campbell harbors vengeance for that, it cannot be helped—but it is no excuse.”

She forced herself to look at him, though she hated herself for repeating Arthur’s accusation. “He said that his father had you at the point of his sword, offered you surrender, that you accepted, but then killed him when he turned away.”

This time the flicker in his eyes could not be misinterpreted. Nor the tightening in his jaw or the white lines around his mouth. He was angry.

Angry, but not outraged the way he should have been.

The blood drained from her face. Oh God, it’s true.

The horror in her expression seemed to annoy him. “It was a long time ago. I did what I had to do. Colin Mor was growing too powerful. Encroaching on our lands. He had to be stopped.”

Anna felt as if she were looking at a familiar stranger, seeing the real man for the first time. He was still the father she loved, but he was no longer a man who could do no wrong. A man whom she did not question. He was no longer a god. Nay, he was frighteningly human. Flawed and capable of making mistakes. Big mistakes. Hideous mistakes.

Arthur was right. There was nothing her father wouldn’t do to win. Even the good of the clan would not stop him.

“You have little cause to judge, daughter. You who would let a traitor to your clan walk free.” His voice grew so hard it shook. “Do you know what kind of harm he could have done?”

He was right. She’d chosen to let Arthur go free, even knowing he could harm her clan, because she could not bear the thought of being the instrument of his death. “I didn’t want to see him hurt. I ... I care for him.” She stopped. Suddenly, the tense he’d used struck her. Her heart pounded. “ ’Could have’?” she asked.

Her father’s mouth was clamped tight, the whiteness of his lips stark against his ruddy, angered face. “You are fortunate that I was able to mitigate a disaster. My men surrounded Campbell when he tried to leave last night. He carried a message with him that proved his guilt.” His eyes flared dangerously. “A message that would have ruined everything.”

Anna couldn’t breathe as horror pounded her. Fear laced around her heart and squeezed. “What have you done with him?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

Tears burned the back of her throat. Her eyes. Panic seized her lungs. She could barely get the words out. “Please, Father, just tell me ... is he alive?”

He didn’t answer right away, but watched her with a cold, assessing gaze. “For now,” he said. “I have some questions for him.”

She closed her eyes, exhaling with an overwhelming sense of relief. “What will you do with him?”

He eyed her impatiently. Clearly, he didn’t like her questions. “That depends on him.”

“Please, I must see him.” She needed to make sure he was all right.