The Campbell Trilogy Read online

  “What the hell could you have been thinking?” The look his father directed at him was one Duncan had never seen before—of disappointment and disgust. “Obviously you were thinking with what hangs between your legs and not your head.”

  “It wasn’t like that.” But he knew it was.

  His father slammed his hand down on the table with such force the room shook. “Call it what you will, but it doesn’t change the fact that what you have done could well jeopardize everything we’ve been working for. I trusted you with an important mission and this is how you repay that trust?” Duncan’s face went white. “Do you think Grant will join us if he discovers you have seduced his daughter? The king is counting on his support and if this war against Huntly fails because of this you can be damned sure who he will blame. You’ve dishonored yourself and this family.” His gaze chilled. “You’ve reached too high, boy.”

  Duncan flinched, feeling as if he’d just been stabbed in the back by the person he’d trusted the most in this world. Bastard. Mongrel. Whoreson. Scoundrel. He thought of all the disparaging comments people had made over the years about his birth, but how it had never mattered because his father hadn’t felt that way.

  He was wrong.

  His eyes pricked with heat. Furious, Duncan fought off the emotion. He was a man, and it was clear he had only himself to rely upon. He told himself it shouldn’t matter. His bastard blood would not dictate his future, but it didn’t dull the pain of having his father so brutally shove the shame of his birth down his throat.

  Duncan straightened his back and squared his shoulders, summoning every ounce of his stubborn Highlander pride. He’d never let his father know how much he’d hurt him. “You do not need to remind me of the circumstances of my birth. I am well aware of my bastardy. It didn’t matter to the woman I hoped to marry, I never expected it to matter to the man who made me so.”

  He saw the flicker in his father’s gaze and knew his barb had struck. Beneath his anger, Duncan felt a wave of sadness. Never again would he look on his father as his ally—his champion. Perhaps he’d been a fool to do so in the first place.

  That which had been left unsaid his whole life had now been said, and it would never be the same between them again. He wasn’t the equal of his brothers and sister. He was an outsider and always would be.

  With a pained glance, Duncan turned on his heel and left.

  Freuchie Castle, Moray, Two Weeks Later

  Jeannie could barely contain her excitement as she moved about the Great Hall attending to the comfort of their unexpected “guests.”

  Her heart fluttered like the wings of a butterfly. Duncan was here.

  After two long weeks, she would finally see him again.

  She smiled at Colin Campbell and thanked him for the compliment, her father was quite proud of the castle cuirm. Though there was a superficial resemblance between Duncan and his younger brother, Colin did not yet have the air of authority possessed by Duncan. At eight and ten only a few years separated them, but Colin seemed a mere lad in comparison.

  She answered his questions about their brewing method as best she could and tried to prevent herself from constantly looking past his shoulder toward the door, waiting for Duncan to exit the laird’s solar with her father, his father, and the young Earl of Argyll.

  The throng of Campbell warriors had arrived with little warning, seeking not just a night of Highland Hospitality, but also, she realized, to conscript her father and Clan Grant into joining them.

  War with Huntly, it seemed, had become unavoidable. Though she knew it was unwarranted, she couldn’t prevent the prickle of fear at the thought of Duncan marching off to battle. The thought of losing him …

  She forced herself to push away the ill omen, knowing it was bad luck to think of death.

  But the realization that this was how it would be for the foreseeable future as the wife of a warrior was sobering.

  She’d been surprised that Duncan had not waited to see her, but had immediately retired to the solar with her father and his guardsmen. She’d hoped for a wee bit of reassurance before the subject of their marriage was broached to her father, but he hadn’t even looked at her.

  She knew her father would not be easily persuaded, but had full faith in Duncan. He would fight for her, of that she was sure. Surely her father will see him for the man he was?

  Still, she couldn’t help being nervous. Not for the first time, she wiped her palms in the folds of her skirts. Her father was so distracted lately, out of sorts, with mysterious riders coming and going at all times of night. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time …

  Heat flooded her cheeks, realizing that Colin was staring at her. He must have asked her a question. “I’m sorry?”

  “I was just asking whether you enjoyed the hunt?”

  Jeannie nodded. “Very much. Though I’m fearfully out of practice with a bow.”

  “I would be happy to help you reclaim your former glory.”

  Jeannie laughed. “I’m afraid I was never that accomplished. Are you a bowman as well?”

  He arched a brow. “As well?”

  The gesture was so reminiscent of something Duncan would do that it took her aback for a moment. “I … I’ve heard that your brother is an accomplished archer,” she stumbled, the heat in her cheeks no doubt giving far too much away.

  He gave her a strange look, before his mouth curved in a wry smile. “There is little that my brother does not do well.”

  He said it matter-of-factly, but Jeannie detected a sudden hardening in his gaze and wondered whether there was something behind the observation. It must be difficult having a brother as accomplished as Duncan—he was quite a lot to live up to. “You have more than one brother, I believe,” she said, turning the conversation from Duncan. It was too hard for her to feign disinterest.

  Colin nodded. “Jamie is a squire for our cousin Argyll at Inveraray. I also have a younger sister, Elizabeth. She’s at Inveraray as well with the countess while we are away.” He was looking at her so intently that Jeannie self-consciously swiped her face with the back of her hand, worried that a crumb of the cake she’d pilfered from the kitchen had lingered on her face. “I hope that I will be able to take you hunting soon. I should like to get to know you better.”

  Jeannie smiled. “I should like that …”

  But her words fell off because at that moment Duncan entered the room.

  Instinctively her eyes shot to his, seeking that connection she’d grown so accustomed to.

  But the gaze that met hers was nothing like she was used to. It was hard and black and filled with an emotion she’d never seen in him before—rage.

  The last two weeks had been the most difficult of Duncan’s life as he struggled with what to do. His duty demanded he step aside—at least until the battle with Huntly was won. But every instinct warred against it. Jeannie was his, and he wanted her. He’d never begrudged his brother his position as heir and tanaiste, but he did so now.

  To walk into the hall and see Jeannie and Colin together set off every ugly emotion he possessed, and some he didn’t know he had—anger, resentment, and even jealousy.

  He’d be damned if he’d stand aside. Not this time. Not with Jeannie. He would bide his time, but whatever it took, she would be his wife.

  He felt his father’s presence at his side. “Have care, lad, you wear your emotions for all to see,” he warned under his breath. “We have what we came for, do not do anything to give Grant cause to reconsider.”

  Grant had agreed not only to march with them toward Strathbogie Castle to battle with Huntly, but also to consider the betrothal with Colin. It had taken every ounce of Duncan’s self-control to sit there and hold his tongue while a marriage between his brother and the woman he loved was being bantered back and forth.

  But to see them together … his forbearance apparently had its limits. A hot dirk seemed firmly wedged between his ribs. Just for a moment, the easy smile Jeannie bestowed upon his brother mad