“Well, I will, too. Dunnae ye think I willnae.”
Graeme hid his brief smile. “This is the thing, lads. They cannae make us leave our home. It’s ours. Theycanencourage our cotters to leave, our sheep and shepherds to go missing, our fields to flood or to burn. That’s what they did to Lattimer back when we still called it MacKittrick. The way I see it, we’re going to war. But we can do it two different ways. We can stand up, buy more sheep, plant more wheat, build fisheries—and make ourselves both stronger and a bigger target fer them to aim at.”
“But we dunnae have any blunt,” Connell exclaimed, then covered his mouth with both hands.
“We dunnae,” he ageed. “But Ree does.”
Connell opened his fingers again. “Ye cannae take her money unless ye marry her.” He covered his mouth again.
“Aye. I mean to marry her.”
“Ye said that before,” Dùghlas pointed out.
“Aye, but this time I’ve a better reason.”
The duckling made a kissing sound behind his hand.
“Exactly,” Graeme agreed. It wasn’t very sophisticated, but it did represent the Maxton household fairly well.
“Then that’s what we do,” Brendan said. “Dunncraigh doesnae scare me.”
“Me, either,” Graeme seconded. “But there’s one more point to consider,” he said slowly, finding his way along the trail as he spoke. As long as Marjorie is here, Dunncraigh will see her as a chance to get to Lattimer. They took her today. I dunnae ken what these bastards might try next.”
And that thought had begun to tear him up inside. She would be safer at Lattimer with her brother, where they knew the threats and had the men to protect her. Without her funds, though, Garaidh nan Leòmhann would be more vulnerable.Hewould be alone again, surrounded by family but without her to talk to, to hold, to argue and laugh with. But he’d given his word. He would protect her, no matter the cost to himself.
“Do we talk now?” the duckling asked, removing one hand from his face.
“Aye. We talk now.”
“Good. Because I think—”
“Connell,” Brendan interrupted. “Keep yer gobber shut.”
“But—”
“I know one thing,” the sixteen-year-old went on. “Ye mean fer us to be safe either way. That’s who ye are. But nae one of us is going to tell ye what ye should do with Ree Forrester. We dunnae want the blame fer it either way.”
“I’ll tell ye what ye should do,” Connell offered.
“Nae. Ye willnae.” Dùghlas dragged the duckling over his shoulder. “We’ve a dozen men on the grounds, Graeme. Ye decide what to do next, and we’ll follow ye.Ithink ye deserve to be happy, but that’s all I mean to say.”
As Graeme turned to watch them out of the morning room door, he caught sight of Marjorie standing there in the doorway, gazing at him. Her hair was combed, pulled back into a long, curling tail, but she still wore the dirty, ripped gown she’d had on when he’d rescued her.
“How much of that did ye hear?” he asked.
“Everything after you said Paulk and Dunncraigh can’t make you leave.” She tilted her head. “Are you going to attempt to send me to Lattimer or back to London and tell me it’s for my own good?”
“Ye’d be oot of their reach in London, and ye’d be better protected at Lattimer.”
“My well-being didn’t concern you before, then?” she prodded.
Damnation.She was never going to forget that. “That was when I needed ye fer yer blunt and didnae much care what happened to the rest of ye. That’s changed. It’s dangerous here.”
“I’d be even safer, then, locked in a room with a shackle on my ankle.” She pulled the key from her pelisse pocket and walked forward to hand it to him. “Go ahead, then. Lock me away like some delicate, dainty porcelain doll that can’t stand on its own two feet.”
“Marjorie, y—”
“Don’t ‘Marjorie’ me in your pretty accent, Graeme. I was dragged here against my will. I had no choice. You tried to make me marry you, and I stood against you. But then Imetyou—and Connell, and Dùghlas, and Brendan—and you introduced me to a different way of living. And to a great many other things that have literally changed my life. For the better, in my opinion.”
