The Campbell Trilogy Read online

  And she felt a little piece of the wall between them crumble. He was right: His actions were not those of a man who didn’t care.

  “Come,” he said. “On the other side of this hill there is a burn where we can wash and have something to eat. Later there is something I want to show you.”

  She had to wait hours to find out what he meant.

  Walking in the hills was difficult enough; trudging over them in snow was even worse. She followed the path Patrick cleared for her as best she could, but her skirts made it slow going. When they reached the small copse of trees and the burn, she was at first skeptical and then grateful for the funny treads he’d fashioned for her from branches and pieces of the string from her ever handy stays. The branches gave her traction and kept her from sinking into the soft, wet snow.

  But as they descended farther down the hills, they became unnecessary. The deep snow at the summit lessened to mere inches and then to only patches, as the sun—all but forgotten yesterday—worked its magic. When they entered the forest for what he assured her was the last few miles of their journey, she was warm enough to remove the plaid. They walked through the trees and along a burn for a time, finally coming to a stop just before dusk at the head of a charming loch. It was perhaps only half a mile wide at its mouth, but it was miles long. On her right, on the south bank, a few hundred feet away stood a small, stately castle—newly constructed, from the looks of it.

  She gazed at Patrick, but his face was inscrutable as he intently scanned their surroundings. Her heart tugged. If anything, the past few days had only made him more handsome. His skin was rough and rugged from the wind and cold, his hair silky and tousled, and the dark shadow of a beard emphasized the hard lines of his jaw.

  “What is this place?” Lizzie asked.

  “Loch Earn.” He turned to her, his face solemn. “It used to be my home.”

  She sucked in her breath. This was the land her cousin had added to her dowry. The land that Patrick wanted to get back. His sole purpose for wanting her. Her chest tightened. “Why have you brought me here?”

  “I don’t really know.” He paused thoughtfully, his gaze returning to the loch. “I wanted you to see it. To know what happened here. To know why I did what I did.”

  “What happened here?” she asked gently, sensing the importance.

  Patrick didn’t answer right away. He couldn’t stop gazing out over the loch, at the castle. It was as if something—the memories, perhaps—had overtaken him.

  His face was ravaged with raw emotion, and Lizzie realized she’d never seen him look so exposed. Usually he kept himself remote, detached, but at that moment she saw it for what it was: a façade. The lines etched on his handsome face and the sorrow in his eyes revealed a man who’d suffered deeply.

  His voice held no emotion as he spoke, but it was there—simmering under the surface—and she felt it wrap around her. “This land belonged to my clan for hundreds of years, but we had not the paper to prove it. The Earls of Argyll turned us into tenants on our own land.”

  Lizzie knew something of the MacGregors’ history. In the dispute of the claim to the throne between the Bruces and the Balliols, they’d chosen the wrong side, and when Robert became king, he’d made them suffer for it. Without charters to prove ownership, the MacGregors had been divested of their land. That the Campbells had benefited was the source of the feuding between the clans in the years that followed.

  “But that was hundreds of years ago,” Lizzie said softly.

  “Aye.” He met her gaze. “But time does not correct a wrong.” His face hardened. “For years my family held this land as vassals of Argyll—never content, but accepting. Almost twenty years ago that relationship, however tenuously held, was severed. Argyll illicitly sold the tenancy of our lands to Glenorchy, and the black devil did not waste time in asserting his ill-gained ‘rights.’ ”

  He paused, and Lizzie couldn’t tell whether that was all. “So Glenorchy evicted your family from this land?”

  “Evicted?” He made a sharp, pained sound. “That’s one word for it. Glenorchy’s methods were more akin to extermination. When my father refused to cede our land, Glenorchy decided to burn us out. I was ten when the soldiers came. I remember looking out my window and seeing the fire and thinking it was Armageddon.”

  Lizzie’s chest pounded as she waited for him to continue, her heart going out to the terrified little boy he must have been.

  “My mother sent me and my brothers into the forest. Annie was just a babe, and my mother thought we would be safe—she was Glenorchy’s sister, after all.” His face twisted, and Lizzie felt her heart twist along with it. “I didn’t want to leave her, but she insisted.”

  He stopped, and Lizzie put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.” She had guessed what was coming.

  “But you don’t know what happened,” he said harshly, his face tortured. “I’d left something behind, something my father had trusted me to keep safe, so I went back.” His voice was hollow. “It was so hot. Hard to breathe. Everything was burning. I thought I’d walked through the gates of hell—but it was worse. The dead bodies of my clansmen lay scattered across the barmkin. My father was among them.”

  Lizzie squeezed his arm. He was so taut, every muscle clenched, she could almost feel the incredible tension running through him under her fingertips.

  “A couple of Campbell soldiers found me at his side and decided I was better off dead.”

  “But you were only a boy!”

  “Aye, but they were right. I would have hunted them down.” His eyes were stark when he turned to her. “My mother saw what was about to happen and rushed out to stop it. Instead, she took the blade that was meant for me. She died in my arms.” His voice was wooden. Emotionless. But it no longer deceived her.

  Lizzie felt the tears burning in her eyes. She’d lost her parents at a young age but couldn’t imagine seeing them murdered before her eyes.

  “It wasn’t your fault. Your mother was only trying to protect you.”

  “I know, though it took me years not to feel to blame. Glenorchy murdered my parents and built his cursed castle on the ashes of my home and the blood of my parents and clansmen. Their deaths lie at his feet.” He held her gaze. “You see, Lizzie, it wasn’t just about a few merks of land. I’ve been fighting ever since to get back part of what was taken from me that day. All my legal claims had failed. When I heard that your cousin had added the land to your dowry, I knew the opportunity I’d been waiting for had arrived. I just hadn’t counted on one thing.”

  The look in his eye took her breath away. Her heart pounded. “What’s that?”

  One side of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “You. I knew I couldn’t tell you the truth, but I hated deceiving you. I told myself I would make it up to you, but it all changed when Robert Campbell arrived.”

  Lizzie sucked in her breath, realizing how horrible that must have been for him, seeing the son of the man who’d taken everything from him wooing her. All of a sudden, her eyes shot to his face. “You wanted me to marry him.”

  He tensed, his expression once again unreadable. “I knew he would make you happy and give you the life you deserved. With me you would have been …” He let his voice trail off as if he’d said too much and then straightened. “Until the king decides otherwise, I’m an outlaw.”

  My God, he’d cared about her enough to sacrifice everything he’d been fighting for since he was a boy—to the son of the man who’d killed his parents.

  She didn’t know what to say. What to do. Too stunned by all that he’d told her and suffered at the hands of her clan. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  He met her gaze and nodded, looking a little embarrassed. Shifting his gaze, he lifted his eyes to the sky. “There isn’t enough time to reach Balquhidder before it gets too dark. Come, I think I know a safe place we can stay for the night.”

  He led her along the shore of the loch. There were a few small cottages along the way, but she was su