The Campbell Trilogy Read online

  It wasn’t until after he’d left the hall that she realized he hadn’t really answered her question.

  Once she’d recovered from the shock of Jamie’s sudden departure, anger took over. Dirt and mud sprayed her skirt as she stomped along the path to Ascog, but she paid it no mind. It would serve him right to have her go around in mud-spattered “rags.”

  As if departing without explanation weren’t enough, she’d been informed when she’d tried to leave this morning that he’d confined her to the castle for the duration of his absence. She was not even permitted to walk the short path to Ascog to watch the progress of rebuilding.

  It had taken her precisely a quarter of an hour to disobey his orders—long enough to find a plaid to cover her head and a group of servants to join as they passed through the castle gate. She’d picked up a bucket and acted as if she were one of the women on her way to work at Ascog. Apparently, it had never occurred to him that she would defy his bidding, because no one was paying close attention to the maidservants leaving the castle.

  Not trusting herself to control her anger at her husband, she’d fallen back from the other servants as they walked.

  Jamie Campbell was going to face a severe tongue-lashing when he returned. If he thought she would be a complacent wife who meekly followed the bidding of her “lord and master,” a wife who waved good-bye with a handkerchief in her hand and welcomed him back with open arms and a smile, he was in for one rude awakening. If he cared for her, he would show her the respect due his wife, his partner. Partner. Yes, she liked the sound of that. She wanted to know everything and refused to be kept in the dark again. When she thought of how he’d kissed her on the head … of all the overbearing, patronizing, loutish—

  “It’s good to hear you come to your senses, lass.”

  The voice from behind startled her. It took Caitrina a moment to realize it was Seamus.

  Apparently, she’d been speaking her thoughts aloud. Not pleased by the interruption, she said sharply, “Senses? What do you mean?”

  “We feared we’d lost you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “To Argyll’s Henchman.”

  She stiffened at the sobriquet, but as she was in no mood to argue her husband’s finer points, she didn’t jump to his defense—an exercise in futility with her father’s old guardsman as it was. Instead she asked, “Did you wish to see me about something, Seamus?”

  “Aye. That I do, mistress. I’ve been trying to tell you for some time, but the Henchman never lets you out of his sight.” He looked around, as if someone might jump out from behind a tree. “Even the castle has ears.”

  Caitrina gave her father’s old guardsman a measured look. “It is the laird’s duty to keep himself apprised of all that is going on in the castle. Perhaps caution on his part is warranted given the accident that nearly took both our lives.”

  She’d yet to speak with Seamus about what had happened, but Jamie had done so first thing this morning. Her father’s old guardsman claimed that while he’d been hoisting one of the large beams into position, a rope had slipped, knocking another piece of wood off the platform. The knocking was the sound that had alerted Jamie to danger and saved their lives. To a one, her clansmen swore that it had been an accident. Unfortunately, Jamie’s men had not been in position to prove otherwise.

  Without proof, Jamie had been reluctant to further stir up the Lamont clansmen’s resentment by punishing Seamus, but he’d warned the older man that if there were any more “accidents,” he would find himself with a rope around his neck—“proof” or not.

  “Aye, that was a terrible mistake,” Seamus said with unabashed sincerity. Caitrina couldn’t tell if it was an admission and he was attempting to offer some sort of apology.

  She held his gaze. “Seamus, promise me nothing like that will happen again. I know it is difficult, but we must try to adjust—”

  “No!” The vehemence in his voice took her aback. “We’ll never accept a Campbell as laird. It pains me that you would say so, lass.”

  How could she explain that she’d done what she’d thought best under the circumstances?

  “If you had anything to do with what happened—”

  “Not now, lass. It will all make sense soon enough. But hurry, we don’t have much time. Follow me.”

  He tried to take her hand and drag her into the trees toward the mountains, but she dug in her heels, refusing to budge. “Where are you taking me? What is all the secrecy about?”

  Seamus looked around again and lowered his voice. “I can’t explain now, it’s too dangerous—one of his Campbell guardsmen could come along at any moment—you’ll have to come see for yourself. But trust me, lass, this is something you don’t want to miss.”

  Caitrina hesitated, not feeling right about traipsing after Seamus into the wilderness. After what had happened … something in her urged caution. And then there was Jamie’s order for her to stay at the castle. She bit her lip. She hadn’t given much thought to its purpose but merely reacted against the presumption. What if he had a reason beyond his general protectiveness? A prickle of guilt needled at her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Perhaps tomorrow—”

  A disembodied voice, coming from behind one of the trees deeper in the forest ahead of them, cut her off. “God’s wounds, Caitrina, must you always be contrary? Haven’t I told you repeatedly that men prefer biddable women?”

  The hair on her arms electrified as shock froze every bone, every muscle, every nerve ending of her body.

  Her hand went to her throat as she stared wildly in the direction of the achingly familiar voice. She shook her head. Dear God, it can’t be. “No …”

  A man stepped out from behind a tree, his tall, wide-shouldered body silhouetted by the low light and trees. “I’m afraid so, little sister.”

  The blood drained from her body. Niall.

  She was seeing a ghost. It was too much to believe. The rush of emotion to her chest was too much to take.

  “Catch her,” he said, taking a step forward. “I think she’s going to …”

  But Caitrina didn’t hear the rest as darkness rose up to swallow her.

  Ouch. Someone was slapping her cheek. Caitrina twisted her head and batted the hand away. “Stop that!”

  A man laughed. “I’d say she’s fine. Looks like the blow to the head didn’t soften her temper any.”

  Caitrina opened her eyes and gazed into familiar blue depths. She drank in every inch of his handsome face. It was lean and weather-beaten and bore a few new scars, but there was no mistake. Tears welled in her eyes as she placed her hand on his rough-whiskered cheek. “You’re real.”

  A smile curved his mouth into the roguish grin he’d perfected many years ago—well before it had proved so devastating on the village lasses. “Aye, love. As real as they come.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into the dusty leather of his heavy quilted cotun. Niall. Dear God, it was really him. The happiness she felt at having her brother returned to her from the dead was unfathomable. She felt as if a light had just shone on the dark corner of her heart she’d thought closed off forever.

  And now he was here. Her irritating, teasing, cocksure brother was alive and by all appearances well. But she could see that, like her, he’d changed. He was harder, sadder, angrier.

  The hot ball of emotion lodged in her chest exploded into a torrent of choking tears. Niall held her, smoothing her hair as he murmured soothing words. “Shush, Caiti, it’s all right, I’m here.”

  She pulled back, blinking the tears from her eyes, feeling as if she’d just woken from a terrible dream. “But how?” Her eyes narrowed with sudden realization. “Why did you not tell me?” She swatted him on the arm. “How could you let me think you were dead for so long?”

  He chuckled. “Now there’s my sister. I’d begun to fear the sweet sobbing creature in my arms was someone else.” His eyes swept over her meaningfully. “You look different, Caiti. I almo