The Campbell Trilogy Read online

  His men moved to either side of him to hold him by his elbows, but before they had taken a few steps, the sounds of approaching men—by the sounds of it a good many—stopped them. It was too late. The Gordon guardsmen were already there. If he wasn’t about to collapse escape would have been possible, but hampered by the ball of lead in his belly … Well, Jeannie would have her chance to see that noose around his neck soon enough.

  “My lady!” The calls echoed through the trees.

  Duncan turned and looked at Jeannie, his gaze locking on hers. He knew better than to put himself at her mercy, but he had no choice. “What’s it to be, Lady Gordon? Will you help me or turn me in?” Why he bothered to ask he didn’t know. He could see the answer in her eyes.

  “Here,” Jeannie called out, answering the concerned cries of her guardsmen. “I’m here.”

  At least a score of clansmen broke through the trees, surrounding them, hagbuts and pistols drawn, swords brandished. When they saw the three strangers, they immediately took aim, intending to finish the job she’d started.

  At least it would be fast. Ten years of waiting and it all came down to this. He should have known better than to think he would find mercy in the hands of the woman who’d betrayed him. He heard the click—

  “Wait!”

  All eyes turned to Jeannie. Except for his. His had been glued to her the whole time. Watching. Challenging. Seeing whether she had the stomach to do what she threatened.

  “I …” she faltered.

  She couldn’t do it. It shocked him almost as much as it did her. His eyes narrowed. Was there a glimmer of softness left in that cold heart after all or was some other game at play?

  Their eyes met for an instant before she looked away, seemingly disgusted with herself. “Lower your weapons. There’s been a mistake,” she said calmly. “I was caught by surprise. These men mean me no harm.”

  Jeannie couldn’t do it. Her chest twisted, though any emotion for this man had been wrung out of it long ago. I should. For all the pain and suffering you put me through, I should.

  But as much as she wanted to send him to the devil, at the moment of truth she’d looked into his eyes and the words would not come.

  Lord knew why. She owed him nothing. Indeed, he could destroy everything she’d fought so hard to protect. But hers would not be the hand that spelled his doom.

  Her spurious decision seemed to have surprised Duncan as much as it did her.

  Adam, the captain of her guardsmen, eyed her uncertainly , his gaze flickering to the three imposing warriors. “Who are they?”

  Good question. She thought quickly. “Guardsmen hired by my brother. Additional protection after the recent events.”

  She felt Duncan’s questioning gaze on her, but ignored it. Her troubles were no business of his.

  Adam straightened. “We have men enough,” he said, obviously taking umbrage at the suggestion that he was not equipped to see to her protection himself. Ignoring that Duncan and his men had managed to break through the perimeter he’d set up easily enough.

  “I’m sure my brother meant no disrespect,” Jeannie said, attempting to mollify the disgruntled warrior. “But you know how upset he was. I will tell him these men are unnecessary, but until then we need to get him back to the castle.”

  Appeased, the captain looked around. “Where’s Tavish?”

  “There was a slight misunderstanding,” Duncan provided, his voice raspy.

  How he managed to stand with a hole in his belly she didn’t know. She bit her lip. Mother Mary, he was pale.

  “From where he was positioned, I didn’t realize he was protecting the lass.”

  There was something in the tone of Duncan’s voice that caught the captain’s attention. “I see,” Adam said grimly.

  Jeannie looked back and forth between the two men, realizing she’d missed something. But now that she’d made her decision, she was anxious to have it done. The sooner she got him back on his feet, the sooner he would be on his way. She hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake. “Adam, have your men show our guest to the tower. We will put him in the empty chamber in the garret.”

  The significance occurred to her too late. Her chest squeezed. It had been her son’s chamber.

  Adam lifted his brow in surprise, but did not question her decision to place a guardsman in the tower house. “Aye, my lady.”

  “I will find the healer.”

  “I saw her in the garden earlier,” one of the younger guardsmen offered.

  “Thank you, William.”

  The handsome warrior beamed at her praise and that she’d called him by his given name. But it was not a sign of particular favor; Jeannie made it a point to know everyone in the castle.

  She thought Duncan’s eyes narrowed, but she turned her back on him and went in search of the healer. Did he think William was something to her? Let him.

  By the time she’d found the healer and they’d started to make their way into the keep, her mother-in-law had had plenty of time to be apprised of the situation. Not surprisingly, Jeannie found her path blocked at the entry.

  “I told you no good would come of this flight of fancy of yours,” the Marchioness said.

  Jeannie gritted her teeth. “So you did. But as you are no doubt aware, a man has been shot and is in need of the healer.”

  “You shot him.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “An accident.” This time. “I thought he was another ruffian.”

  And before the Marchioness could issue another one of her I-told-you-sos, Jeannie brushed past her and led the healer up the stairs to the top level of the tower house.

  A small landing separated three small chambers. Adam occupied the largest, the one with the view of the surrounding countryside so he could keep apprised of any attack, the nursemaid slept in a mural chamber next to it, and then beside hers was the small chamber that had belonged to her son and was now crammed full with towering, muscle-bound, mail-clad warriors.

  She stood at the door as the healer attempted to squeeze around the blond brute. His icy Nordic looks sent a chill running through her. Which was a good thing as it was hot as Hades in here. She didn’t know what it was with men—especially warriors—but they seemed to radiate heat.

  Duncan lay on the small bed, his feet hanging well over the edge. His face was flush and his eyes, burning with pain or hatred she didn’t know, fixed on her.

  “Your men will have to leave,” she said firmly.

  The two henchmen drew themselves up to their full height—barely missing the wood-raftered ceiling—and squared their prodigiously broad chests like two over-protective bears who had every intention of digging in their heels. She met the burly red-haired man’s—an Irishman by the sound of him—gaze and smiled sweetly. “I promise not to do him any more harm.”

  He stilled, then let out a bark of laughter. Something she would wager he did quite a bit of. His rough, ruddy countenance seemed prone to joviality—a foil to Duncan’s dour darkness. “Aye, lass, you’ve a wicked sense of humor.” He shook his head. “Hurt him?” He laughed, then turned to Duncan for confirmation.

  Duncan nodded. “Go. See to the horses. I’ll be fine.”

  The men moved slowly. The blond one turned to her at the door. “You’ll let us know …”

  “As soon as the healer has looked at him,” Jeannie assured him.

  He nodded and the two men left. The room seemed infinitely larger—and blessedly cooler.

  Mairghread, the healer, was already at work. She examined him for a few minutes before looking up at Jeannie. “I’ll need to remove his cotun and sark, my lady.”

  His men must have helped him remove the leather plated cuirass he wore over his chest. Knowing he was watching her, Jeannie held her expression and tone even. “I’ll help you.”

  She pursed her lips together, steeling herself for the unpleasantness. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, she told herself. If only he wasn’t watching her so intently, th