Devil in Tartan (Highland Grooms #4)(95)

Aulay strode into the room. “Pardon,” he said. “May I speak?”

All eyes turned to him expectantly.

Why did he feel so at odds with his own mind suddenly? He couldn’t seem to find the right words. He couldn’t seem to find any words.

“Aulay?” Lottie prodded him.

“I donna know... I have this idea,” he said, gesturing to himself.

“Oh,” she said, and exchanged a look with Mr. MacColl.

“My sea has turned over on itself, it has,” he blurted.

He heard Catriona groan, saw the MacColls exchange looks.

“Pardon?” Lottie asked.

“That is to say, I’m no’ the man I was when you stole my ship.”

“I prefer borrowed,” Lottie muttered.

“I’m a different man, Lottie. That voyage has changed me, has changed my thinking about many things, that it has. Lottie...you made me different. You...you filled my canvas.”

“Filled his what?” asked one of the MacColls.

“I’m no’ making sense, aye,” he said, and nervously raked his fingers through his hair. “I am no’ accustomed to such declarations.”

“He’s never been in love,” Catriona offered.

Aulay’s heart lurched. He leveled a gaze on his sister. “Aye, thank you, Cat, but I’ll carry on from here if you donna mind.”

He shifted his gaze to Lottie. He moved forward, reaching for her hands. “Aye, it’s true, I’ve naugh’ been in love ere now, and it has changed me profoundly. Lottie... I’ve naugh’ to offer you. The trade is gone, we’re likely destitute—”

“I’d leave that part out of the declaration, were I you,” Catriona muttered.

“But I love you, lass. More than the sea. More than my life. I donna want to be without you. I want to hold you close and care for you. I know this gentleman has made an offer of marriage and he looks a fine man, I’ve no doubt of it, but I love you.”

“Diah,” said one of the sons.

The rest of the room was silent. Lottie stood motionless for a long moment. “But what of the sea?”

“I donna know,” he answered truthfully. “If I can gain another ship, will you no’ come with me?”

“There are my brothers—”

“Och, they are welcome at Balhaire,” Catriona said. “My mother misses Drustan dreadfully.”

Lottie blinked. She looked stunned. Worried. Clearly at a loss for words, and Aulay’s heart began to beat wildly, charging, preparing to be broken. But then a smile began to illuminate her face. The single dimple appeared, along with a glitter in her bonny blue eyes. And then she giggled.

Aulay groaned. “All right then, have I done it so badly? Is it so amusing?”

“On the contrary, that was the bonniest speech I ever heard, and I’ve heard every one Duff has ever made. But I donna mean to marry Mr. MacColl.”

“What?”

“I mean to make him our new chief.”

“Bloody hell,” Aulay muttered.

“He will buy what little we have, which I intend to give to you, Aulay. And then I intend to turn myself in.”

“No!” cried Catriona, Mathais and Drustan at once.

“I didna want to tell you in this way, lads, but how can I live with myself if I donna? We stole a ship! We are the reason a royal ship was scuttled! And they’ll no’ stop looking for us, they’ll never stop. I must stand up.”

“You borrowed a ship,” Catriona pointed out.

“Lottie, they donna know it,” Aulay pleaded. “They seek a man.”

“Aye, well that’s just it, Aulay. I havena got a man to sacrifice.”

“A man you say?” MacColl said thoughtfully.

“It doesna matter—” Lottie started.

“Aye but it might, lass,” MacColl said, and looked at Aulay. “What man, then?”

“That, they donna know,” Aulay said, and related his conversation with Roy Campbell and everything they suspected.

When he’d finished, MacColl said, “I’ve an idea. One that might work for all, aye? Do you recall, Lottie, that after the rebellion, the English soldiers came round looking for Jacobites, aye? We had one or two, that we did. But we took care of it by hanging them.”

Catriona gasped.

Lottie gasped, too, but in manner that suggested delight. “Aye, we did! I remember!”

“We’re no’ hanging anyone,” Aulay said firmly.

“No. But we might have a funeral for one. The laird will come round on Monday, so we’ve no’ much time,” MacColl said, and began to lay out a plan.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

DUNCAN CAMPBELL’S BOOTS were wet, which annoyed him. There was nothing worse than clumping about in wet leather...unless one was using the same wet leather to knock the bloody rodent rabbits out of his path. “We ought to set fire to this island, one end to the other,” he complained as the MacColl lad reached him on the path. “Have you thought of that, then? A good fire that ought to take care of the problem.”

The lad looked appalled. “What of our houses and sheep and our coos?”

Duncan shrugged. He was furious with his cousin Roy for sending him on one wild goose chase after the other. Roy seemed to think that one would find illegal stills by having a walkabout in the Highlands. It was hardly the way of things, and Duncan had been dispatched from Applecross to Inverness, as everyone was suspected of brewing spirits to compete with the Campbells. “Where is your chief, then?” he asked the lad as he simultaneously knocked mud from his boots and kicked at a rabbit.