When Callum told him, Ennis tossed him a doubtful look. “Ye’re aidin’ a Campbell?”
“Aye, but he hates her.” Jamie hastened to stand at his laird’s defense.
“He doesna hate her, whelp.” Brodie shoved his elbow into Jamie’s gut.
“Ye’re all going to have to wait ootside,” Ennis’s wife declared, exasperated by the sudden bickering. Besides, she was going to have to undress the lass to get to the wound, and it was not proper for any man to see her. “Oot with ye now,” she ordered, shooing them away.
“Ye see what ye did, Brodie?” Jamie hissed at him. “She thinks us barbarians because of ye.”
“That’s no’ it.” Brodie pushed him along. “She doesna want us to see the lass’s breasts.”
They were already heading in the direction of the door when Callum gave both men a harsh shove that catapulted them the rest of the way. “Mind yer mouths now and move yer arses.”
Once the men left the bothy, Ennis looked over his shoulder every five breaths. Within ten, he had worked himself into a frenzy. Any moment now, someone was going to wander by to bid him a fine day, take one look at the five giant warriors, and go screaming throughout the holding that MacGregors were afoot. Then, Ennis thought, rubbing his forehead, he and his poor Mae would be cast out and left to starve to death on the moors.
Callum’s hand on his shoulder startled him. “Dinna fret so, Ennis. Should anyone happen by, I’ll put my sword to yer throat and ye can explain to yer laird that we forced ye to aid us.”
Ennis knew the MacGregor was not berating him for his fears. The chieftain was indeed willing to lay his head on the block for anyone in his clan, even one who had chosen a different name to stay alive.
“I’ve thought aboot retreating to yer holding on the isle, laird.” Ennis admitted, unable to help but respect the courage it took to stand firm against their subjugation. “But this is m’ home now.”
Callum nodded and patted his back. “Camlochlin will welcome ye if ye ever change yer mind.”
Ennis finally managed a smile, but a moment later he resumed his pacing, scowling now and then at Brodie and the others while they hurled insults at each other.
“How did ye come to possess a Campbell?” Ennis asked the chieftain, to keep his mind off the panic rising in him.
Callum explained what had taken place in Glen Orchy.
“What d’ye intend to do with her?”
“I will hold her until Argyll comes fer her, then release her to her brother in Inverary.” Callum ground his jaw, his penetrating gaze fixed on the heather-lined meadows before him. “The sooner I am away from the wench, the better.”
“And the earl?”
Callum’s eyes cooled to embers as he turned to his reluctant host. “He dies.”
Ennis arched a bushy gray brow at him. “Will ye punish him fer what Liam Campbell did to ye, then?
“Aye,” Callum nodded. “He will pay fer his faither’s crimes, just as I paid fer mine. And he will suffer fer the MacGregors he has killed and the women’s faces he has branded.”
Ennis grew quiet. He’d heard about the women put to the iron by the Earl of Argyll. Damn pity ’twas, but ’twas naught out of the ordinary. The Campbells had been trying to tame the MacGregors since the time of Robert the Bruce, but to no avail.
Aye, Ennis knew that his clan was not entirely innocent. They were a bloodthirsty lot, killing Campbells for more years than Ennis could ever count. There were dozens of acts of Parliament’s Privy Council against them, granting barons and other noblemen the right to pursue the outlaws with fire and sword. But when the MacGregors had massacred the Colquhouns at the battle of Glen Fruin fifty years ago, King James VI decreed them into extinction. Most Highlanders knew the MacGregors did not deserve the punishment they’d received, for treachery amongst the Campbells and their allies abounded. But Callum and Margaret MacGregor had been innocent. That they had escaped Liam Campbell’s dungeon at Kildun Castle was a miracle, everyone agreed. How they had done it, and what had become of Callum after that, was another matter entirely, depending on who was asked. Some called the laird of the mist braw, while to others he was a madman. One thing was certain, though. The MacGregor was a proud man, choosing, by his own words, never to hide in darkness. But as Ennis looked down at the leather cuffs encircling Callum’s wrists, he wondered how long the young chieftain could hide behind those terrible years of his youth.
Ennis’s thoughts were interrupted when his wife opened the front door and peeped her head out at the men standing around her doorway. She smiled when she met the MacGregor’s gaze. “’Twas a clean injury. I’ve removed the arrow and dressed and bandaged her wound. She’s awake, though a bit groggy from m’ herbs. Probably why she asked fer the arrogant bas—” Mae caught herself from repeating what the Campbell lass had called him. She blushed and gave her chest a pat. “—man who raided her holding. I presume she’s meanin’ ye, laird.”
Angus immediately puffed up his chest and stepped forward. “I believe she most likely meant me.”
Brodie snorted a laugh. “If she meant ye, she woulda asked fer the fat sot with a sack o’ brew hangin’ oot o’ his mouth.”
“Well, she didna mean ye, that’s fer damned certain, Brodie MacGregor,” Angus shouted. Ennis Stewart looked up and beseeched the heavens to open and take him where he stood.
“I think she meant Graham,” Jamie offered honestly. “He’s always smilin’ at all the lasses with them devilish dimples of his.”
“Stay here,” Callum ordered his bickering kin and ducked his head under the doorframe, stepping into the bothy. When he saw her lying on the table, a strange tightness settled in his chest, causing his steps to pause. Her hair dripped over the side in long, rich locks he wanted to touch. God’s fury, she had not even cried out when Ennis’s wife removed the arrow from her flesh. When she turned her head to look at him, her eyes blazed with anger and tears.
Unprepared for the effect the sight of her had on him, he cursed himself for wanting to take her in his arms and comfort her.
