“Who?” Caitrina said nonchalantly, plastering an innocent look on her face.
“Jamie. I saw you watching him.”
The blunt observation brought a guilty flush to her cheeks. The other woman was studying her carefully and no doubt noticed the reaction. “Perhaps,” Caitrina conceded. “But not good enough to best the MacLeod chief.”
Meg grinned. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Jamie’s beaten my brother by marriage countless times before.”
Caitrina’s heart raced, and her voice, which she tried to hold steady, came out like a squeak. “Really?”
Meg nodded. “It’s been a fierce rivalry for years. Rory and Alex were fostered with the old earl, and Jamie spent most of his youth at Inveraray.”
Caitrina’s gaze shot to Jamie. He drew back the arrow and released; it flew to the center of the target. “I didn’t realize . . .” She looked back to Meg, silently asking for more.
“After the death of Jamie’s father, he and his sister, Elizabeth, went to live with the earl.”
She could no longer hide her curiosity. “He had no other relations?”
“Two older brothers. His elder brother Colin, who was only a lad himself on the death of their father, became Campbell of Auchinbreck. Their mother had passed the year before, and Argyll held their father in the highest esteem. Like Jamie, his father was a trusted captain. He fell at the battle at Glenlivet, taking a shot meant for Argyll, and the earl will never forget it. Jamie is like a brother to him. Argyll values his opinion above all others.”
The bond between Jamie and his cousin went far deeper than she’d realized. “From what I’ve heard, I’m surprised that the earl takes advice from anyone.”
Meg grinned. “Oh, he’s not that bad.”
Caitrina lifted her brow skeptically.
Meg chuckled at her expression. “He’s better than the alternatives of Mackenzie or Huntly.”
Jamie had said much the same thing. Listening to Meg, Caitrina realized just how little she knew of the issues plaguing the Highlands. Embarrassed by her ignorance, she changed the subject. “You said there were two brothers. What of the other?”
Meg’s face clouded. “Jamie doesn’t talk about him much. Though you might have heard of him.” She gave Caitrina a hard stare, as if debating whether to say more. She looked around, making sure they would not be heard, but everyone else was focused on the contest. Only four men remained: Rory MacLeod, Jamie Campbell, Torquil MacNeil, and Robbie Graham. Nerves too frayed to watch, Caitrina was glad of the distraction. Meg continued in a low voice. “His eldest brother, Duncan, is a bastard born. He was their father’s favorite and despite his birth had been named a captain, but he was disgraced after the battle of Glenlivet years ago. His treachery was blamed for Argyll’s defeat, and he was forced to flee Scotland. He’s called Duncan Dubh.”Duncan the Black.Her eyes widened. The Black Highlander? Meg smiled wryly. “Aye, he’s made quite a name for himself on the continent. But the scandal hit Jamie particularly hard; from what I hear, they were very close.” Meg’s expression lightened with amusement. “But no one will ever confuse Jamie with his brother.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whether you agree with him or not, no one can say he doesn’t follow the law.”
Though she’d said it jokingly, Caitrina wondered if there was more truth to Meg’s comment than she realized. Was that what drove him? “And his sister? She is married?”
Meg smiled and shook her head. “Not yet. It will be an impressive man who can please both her brothers and her cousin. Jamie mentioned that Elizabeth will be joining him at Dunoon soon with the earl.”
Argyll, she knew, was the keeper of the royal castle of Dunoon. The earl had numerous castles, including his Lowland stronghold, Castle Campbell, and his Highland stronghold of Inveraray Castle.
Embarrassed by how much she’d revealed by her questions, Caitrina fell silent, her attention returned again to the field—just in time to see MacNeil’s arrow land wide of the mark. He was the farthest away, but she could see the anger and bitter disappointment on his face. He’d acquitted himself well, dangerously well for her comfort, but clearly he’d intended to win. Caitrina felt a twinge of guilt, realizing that perhaps she’d been unfair. She’d treated MacNeil’s offer lightly, but it had obviously meant a great deal to him. Later, she’d find him and apologize.
Robbie Graham shot next, and his arrow landed on the lower right edge of the target. A superb shot from that distance, which was probably at least one hundred paces by now. Rory MacLeod stepped forward. It was clear the crowd sided with him. They swayed as he drew the arrow back, holding their collective breath as he released and . . .
Thump.A great cheer rang out. The arrow had landed in the center circle near the middle of the target. It would take a perfect shot to beat him.
Caitrina could feel the restless tension build around her as Jamie raised his bow and took aim. She couldn’t breathe. It was almost as if she knew what was going to happen. His confidence left no room for failure. The arrow flew, and she didn’t even look. Her eyes were fastened on Jamie. The gasp of the crowd would have been enough, but at the moment of victory he turned and looked right at her, his eyes pinning her to the ground. Her heart jumped to her throat. The deep, penetrating stare seemed to see everything, seeing her turmoil, seeing things that she didn’t want him to see.
Only after his men and the MacLeods had moved to congratulate him did she glance at the target. He’d hit a perfect bull’s-eye.
While he was occupied with his men, Caitrina took the opportunity to make her escape. She knew he’d come looking for her, and it might be cowardly, but her nerves were so raw that she didn’t think she could take one more confrontation with Jamie Campbell.
Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?
Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
Not ready to return to the castle and wanting to avoid the crowd, she veered off the path and wandered through the trees toward the loch. There was a small inlet on the eastern edge that was a favorite fishing spot of her brothers. She would relax there for a while until she could sort through the jumble of emotions twisting her stomach in knots.
