“Truth or not, you henwit, you shouldn’t have said it. You might find sympathy with your brother, but you won’t find any among us.” Catriona crossed her arms, challenging the Buchanan siblings. Rab watched from a discreet distance, impressed with Catriona’s willingness to not only stand up for Catherine but to face Dennis to boot.
“Don’t stick your neb in other people’s business, Lady Catriona. It’s likely to get caught along with the rest of you.”
Catriona laughed before pointing to several people. “By all means, threaten me, Dennis. But if I wind up with even one hair out of place, my family and our allies will wipe the Buchanans from this earth. You may be from one of the auldest clans in Scotland, but I’m from one of the most powerful. Maxwell may be my only uncle here, but do not forget who my other uncle is. The Black Douglas is quite fond of me.” Catriona turned away but paused and looked over her shoulder. “And don’t forget, my aunt was a Stewart. Stay away from Lady Catherine. I extend my family’s protection to her.”
Short of tossing in the name Campbell, Catriona had just reminded everyone within earshot that she hailed from the families with the closest ties to the crown and helped to defeat the English. She hadn’t exaggerated that her family would rally behind her. James “the Black” Douglas was not only her other uncle, he was the laird of her branch, which dominated the entire clan.
“You are in no position to offer her aught but some ribbons and frills,” Dennis countered.
“Do you wish to wager on that?” Catriona lifted her chin with an arrogance that could only come from the niece of one of the most powerful men in the realm. “Even breathe in her direction, and we will see who is more respected here at court. And Agnes,” Catriona shifted her gaze, “pipe down. You haven’t any words or a voice anyone wishes to hear. Lady Catherine didn’t exaggerate. You sound like a braying ass and have as much sense. I have been here longer than you, and I will marry before your family can ever sell you off. Do not doubt that whomever I marry will come from a clan worth allying with the Douglases, and I have a long memory.”
Rab continued to observe, pondering whether he should draw Catriona away before she got herself killed, but far too intrigued by what she might say next to move. A man approaching the trio caught Rab’s attention. Andrew came to stand beside Catriona, who offered him a warm smile. It gave Rab pause as he watched his childhood friend and his nemesis. There was something between them he’d never noticed before. He wondered if it was what Catriona and Andrew both witnessed between Catherine and him.
“Buchanan.” Andrew nodded and quipped, “Never a pleasure. Keep your sister away from my cousin.” Andrew wrapped Catriona’s arm around his and escorted her to a table, where he bowed as she sat. He didn’t linger but cast a brief glance at Rab. Their eyes locked, and Andrew offered a terse smile. Both men knew Dennis could do nothing to Catherine now, but neither man put it past Dennis to arrange for Catherine to have some accident or for some tragedy to befall her. He prayed for Catherine’s sake that he cooled his heels and licked his wounds but did nothing more. He prayed for Catriona’s sake that Dennis misstepped. He didn’t doubt Catriona spoke the truth, and Maxwell and the Black Douglas, along with the young woman’s father, would hold no compunction about retaliating. It would solve one of Rab’s neighborly problems.
* * *
“Catriona stopped at ma chamber before she retired,” Catherine said in her relaxed burr as she pulled the plug from a flask containing summer ale Andrew brought back from his last trip to Inveruglas. “She mentioned she exchanged words with Dennis and Agnes. She warned I was the safest woman in Scotland or the one most in danger. I assume she was as plainspoken as ever.”
“Ye could say that. She made it clear that ye arenae to be touched lest yer attacker wishes for the House of Douglas and the House of Stewart to rain down hellfire.” Rab accepted the mug Catherine poured as they whispered in the hayloft. “Óg was there toward the end. He kens I heard it all. From the look he gave me, we agree Dennis will nae muddy his hands now. But neither Óg nor I put it past Dennis to dupe someone else, or even pay someone else, to get revenge.”
“I wish I could take back slapping her. Nae because I repent but because I’ve made ma life far harder than need be. If Dennis werenae here, I’d likely go back for a second round with Agnes, mayhap even drag her out for single combat like I threatened.”
“Dinna underestimate Agnes, Kitty. She’s still a Highlander. She kens how to wield a dirk to protect herself. I’m certain Dennis and her father made sure of that before she came to Stirling.”
“I’ll gladly keep ma distance.” Catherine reclined against Rab’s shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her waist. They sat in the hay pile like they had the night before. They’d shared a brief and heated kiss when they stepped into the loft, but both desired time to talk and merely be together as much as they desired physical intimacy.
Catherine shifted to rest more on her side, so she could see Rab’s face more easily. She’d considered whether it was wise to ask the burning question she had. She concluded it wasn’t, but she did it, anyway.
“Rab, what didna ye want me to ken that first day in the stables? What did ye do to them?”
“Kitty, please dinna make me answer. I never want ye to ken what I’m truly capable of. I dinna wish for ye to ken the monster I can be.”
Catherine sat up. “Ye believe I would stop loving ye for it.”
“I fear it will scare ye enough for exactly that to happen. If nae scare ye, then disgust ye enough. I didna want anyone but ma father and the handful of men who went with me to ken. It’s bad enough that the Bruce and Óg ken. I have nay guilt for what I did, but I feel guilty that anyone else shares those memories.”
“Whatever extreme ye went to, why? Why nae simply hang them or behead them and be done?”
Rab set his mug aside and laced his fingers with Catherine’s, bringing her hand to his chest. “Because ye could have been there. They could have done those vile things to ye. They would have. They would have done it to destroy me as much as to destroy yer family. It’s never been a secret how I feel aboot ye, even when people ken I’ve been with Katherine for two years. I didna ken until this morn that people still wish we’d been able to marry. Cullen shared that.”
Rab used his other hand to tuck hair behind Catherine’s ear. His touch was so gentle that it might have been a butterfly’s wing. He gazed into Catherine’s blue eyes, his heart burning as she returned his gaze with such patience and openness.
“They never accepted it was by chance that I was born to the aulder brother, and I will inherit the lairdship. They acted as though I’d done it to spite them since they were all aulder than me. Their father pitted them against one another as soon as they were all auld enough to enter the lists. He encouraged their rivalry and taunted them when I bested any of them. He fueled their resentment because he resented ma father being the aulder brother. I’ve long suspected ma uncle was Cain, and ma father was Abel. It was only the clan’s steadfast loyalty to ma father since he was a wean that kept ma uncle from killing him. He kenned if he did, he would be the next mon buried, never having the chance to be laird. I may wish a flood washes away every MacGregor who has stepped on our land, but I’m grateful one of them killed ma uncle. He likely would have been our ruination.”
“Rab, do ye think yer uncle had aught to do with why the feud broke out? Do ye think he instigated it against ma clan?”
“I thought that for a long time, but nae anymore. At least, I dinna think it was him personally. He was a sickly mon shortly before his death. I think he rode into battle to die with what he thought was the last of his honor, or mayhap hoping to find some honor. It was only three moons after the gathering, and the trouble persisted well past that.”
“Yer cousins?”
“That seems more likely, probably at ma uncle’s behest. But, at the same time, I canna picture them razing our fields or killing our own people merely to blame it on yer clan. They had an endless list of sins, and I dinna put such vile ideas past them. However, they kenned it was too easy for ma father and me to learn if they were involved. Nay one would have kept that secret for them. So I really just dinna ken.”
“What made them decide to raid?” Catherine’s voice rasped as she asked what had practically burned a hole in her mind.
“I dinna ken that either. Mayhap it was merely because they learned Mòr and Óg were on the mainland hunting. I dinna think they did it for the clan. I think they did it for their own perverse enjoyment. They enjoyed hurting animals when we were weans, and ma father punished them more than once—taking a lash to them himself—when they were too rough with women at the alehouse. They had nay concept of right and wrong, only to fight to get what they wanted at any cost. I witnessed it with ma own eyes. The more brutal they were in battle, the more attention ma uncle paid them. Even after ma uncle died, they used brutality to compete.”
“That’s why they did what they did.”
