Catriona patted a reassuring hand to her father’s shoulder. “None of the men we took in have claimed fealty to Clan MacDonald of Glencoe. I’m sure there’s no' a thing to worry after since Calum took Clan Neal’s oath in your stead last October before the weather grew so fierce. King William kens well enough where our clan’s allegiances lie.” She shot a glare at Calum, willing her twin to shut his maw and stop worrying their father with such. The man would drink himself into his grave if he feared a reprisal from the king—any king, be it James or William. Her father’s only true loyalty was to his drink. It pained Catriona to admit that her father was a fool, but she’d rather have him alive and the manageable chieftain of Clan Neal than Calum.Better the devil ye know than the devil ye don’t.Problem was, she knew the devil that was Calum all too well.
“Ye have given her too much power,” Calum said with a jabbing motion toward Catriona. His eyes glittered with malicious intent. “The clan thinks she speaks for yourself. They’ve no way of telling if they’re following your commands or carrying out Catriona’s whims.”
“Perhaps the men should go,” the Neal mumbled as he took his head in his hands and scrubbed at his temples with the tips of his thick, yellowed fingernails. He looked up at Catriona, confusion and worry fighting for supremacy in his eyes. “Daughter? Should they no' be put out to spare our own?”
“Nay,” Catriona said without hesitation, placing herself between her father and her brother. She bent and placed a hand atop the arms of the chair and came nose to nose with her father. “If we deny them shelter now, 'twould be the same as committing murder. Do ye wish to bear such a stain on your soul when ye reach the gates of everlasting?” She knew this angle would win the argument. Her father had come to fear the wrath of Almighty God above all else—especially since he’d committed so many grievous acts during his lifetime and now tried to forget them with the deadly sin of gluttony, drowning his memories with the fermented fruits of the field or the vine.
“Orlie!” Her father shifted in his chair with a frantic jerking movement, glancing about the room until his focus settled on his personal servant. “I must dress and go to chapel. There is much to pray and ponder.”
Orlie set aside the soiled bedclothes he’d stripped from the bed, gave Catriona’s father a bobbing nod, then kept his gaze locked on the floor as he shuffled about the room gathering the items his chieftain needed.
Catriona knew her father might have good intentions, but he’d never make it down the steps much less past the great hall and its well-stocked cabinet of port and whisky displayed behind the chieftain’s table. Catriona peered at him closer and the realization hit her. He seemed a great deal weaker this morning. Last night’s emptying of bottles appeared to have been harder on him than usual.The thought pushed aside, she turned to Calum as she headed toward the door. “A word, brother?”
Surprisingly, Calum followed her without protest, even instructing Hew to close the door after they’d all entered the adjoining room that was the chieftain’s solar. He took a stance in front of the small hearth and Duff and Hew resumed their posts on either side of him like well-trained dogs. Their brainless brawny bulk made up for Calum’s tall, thin lankiness. The two men had followed Calum’s every step even as children, comprising a most efficient bullying force more than happy to bring Calum’s cruel ideas to fruition. As lads, the three had terrorized the younger children of the keep. As men, if given the opportunity, Catriona knew in her heart of hearts they’d torture and terrorize the entire clan.
Catriona also remained standing. She’d be damned if she’d sit and feed into Calum’s illusion he was above everyone else and had the right to look down his bulbous nose at them all. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Calum had the audacity to shush her and held up a hand.
“Before ye say whatever it is ye plan to say, I ask that ye allow me to speak my heart.”
Instinct and experience sent a rush of adrenaline through her, tensing Catriona for whatever her brother was about to say or do. She strained to hold her tongue and refrain from any rash statements that might compromise her or the clan. She clasped her hands in front of her middle and gave him a nod. “Speak.”
Calum gave her a half-hearted bow and a belittling nod. Wickedness glowed in his gaze like a poorly banked fire. “I feel I must apologize for our little mishap the other night.”
“Mishap?” Catriona sidled toward the door leading out to the hall, not stopping until she’d reached the pillow-strewn settee angled in front of it. She didn’t trust Calum as far as she could throw him and wasn’t about to let herself get cornered with no escape. “I dare say striking me was no’ a mishap.”She rounded the settee and stood behind it, keeping it between herself and Calum. She folded her hands atop the cool satiny cushion of the lounging chair’s curved back. “Ye meant to hit me. Ye know damn well that ye did, Calum.”
“I daren’t deny I was determined to deal the blow, but it truly was a mishap, sister.” Calum cast a sly look first to Duff and then to Hew. “The hall was dark and ye most certainly startled me whilst I was attempting to punish that unruly maid. I didna ken it was yourself I’d hit until I had struck the blow. Your weariness from tending to those men along with all your other responsibilities has skewed your memory to be sure.”
“We could fertilize the garden with those words, brother.” Catriona gripped the cushioned back of the chair tighter, digging her nails into the braided binding tacked to the wooden frame. “Think me a fool?”
Calum’s eyes narrowed. His ruddy face darkened to an even redder shade and his hands closed into fists. “I’ve given ye an apology. Behave like the lady ye’re supposed to be and accept it, aye?”
Why was it so important to him for her to accept his apology? Calum had no conscience. Never had. Never would. Duff and Hew seemed filled with unusual interest in the conversation, too. “I’ll accept your apology if ye’ll agree to leaving our sire alone about our guests.I’ll no' have ye worrying him, ye ken?” The longer she kept her father alive and well, the longer she could shield her clan from Calum.
“Your guests were there, Catriona. They fought at Clan MacDonald’s side.Againstmen loyal to King William.” Calum took a step forward, hands now relaxed and clasped in front of his middle as though he watched a baited trap with evil anticipation.
Catriona swallowed hard. The implications of what Calum suggested raced through her mind. The repercussions of giving aid to traitors of the Crown could decimate their entire clan. But Calum’s smug, victorious look gave her pause. He knew how she felt about their clan. He’d watched her toss aside dreams of a husband and children to keep her oath to their dying mother. What if he was lying?‘Twould no’ be the first time. He wants them gone because he fears them. Their strength. Their possible alliance with me. He fears me.That knowledge calmed her, gave her strength. As a woman with four brothers, she couldna hope to be named chieftain. But if she had enough strong allies of her own, when Calum was namedTanistand made chieftain of Clan Neal, perhaps she could protect her clan by curbing his cruel ways, just as her mother had done with their father. She lifted her chin to a defiant angle. “Perhaps they were there. But they’re no' hunted men. Ye ken as well as I that if the Laird of Glen Lyon was determined to seek and capture traitors, they wouldha already been here searching. Captain Robert Campbell wouldna risk angering the Earl of Breadalbane by allowing anyone to slip through his fingers.”
“As ye’ve said yourself, dear sister, 'tis winter and snow is still verra deep in places—making travel much slower. But I assure ye, there are many routes still passable. Stair informed Breadalbane that he wanted Clan MacDonald rooted out. They will be here—eventually.”
How could her brother know these things? How could he know the druthers and machinations of John Dalrymple, Minister for Scotland and Master of Stair? Catriona backed toward the outer door and took tight hold of the ornately fashioned latch. The cold hardness of the metal grounded her. “These men bear the name MacCoinnich, not MacDonald. They’ve claimed no fealty to Clan MacDonald.”At least, not the MacDonalds of Glencoe.She prayed that were true. A long conversation with Alexander was most definitely in order. “I bid ye let things be. I’m sure they’ll be gone come spring and the melting snow.”
Calum smiled and closed the distance between them. He drew so close that Catriona retreated, opening the door and edging out into the hall. The urge to run was strong. Calum’s smile was no’ a smile of genuine happiness but an arrogant, sinister smile as though a devious plot had come to fruition.
“Spring.” He nodded, a thoughtful look adding even more cause for her to worry as he strode around the settee and took hold of the edge of the door. He huffed out a silent laugh as he jerked the door free of her hand and swung it open wider. “Aye, I’ll leave it be 'til spring. After your wedding.”
Catriona swallowed hard as she stepped back, blinking at the disbelief flooding her senses.Nay. I had to have misheard. “Wedding?”
“Aye. Your wedding, dear sister.” Then Calum shoved her the rest of the way out into the hall and slammed the door shut in her face.
Catriona barely heard her brother’s infuriating guffaws over the roaring of her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
Wedding?Grabbing the latch with both hands, Catriona knew Calum had locked the door before she even tested it. What cruelty had Calum plotted this time? The knowledge of her brother's penchant for making other’s lives miserable stoked the dread growing within her. She could only imagine what sort of man he’d found to torment her. “Open this door, Calum! I demand it!” She pounded on the door, even resorted to a hard kick, succeeding in only hurting her foot.
Calum and his coconspirators just laughed all the harder, and the door remained locked.
