Argyll’s face hardened. “Have care, lad. You grow too bold.”
The control he’d been fighting for let loose in an explosion of rage. “No, cousin, it is you who grow too bold. I’ve stood beside you all these years against recrimination because I thought you were the best choice for the Highlands. Up until now I believed we wanted the same thing: restoring law and order to the chaos created by feuding and outlaws, ensuring the prosperity of our clan, and protecting the Highlands against a king who wants to steal our land, crush our people, and see our way of life destroyed.” He drew in a deep breath and spoke concisely so there would be no mistake. “But I’ll be damned if I’m going to support you in your personal vendettas.”
“I did what needed to be done to bring a criminal to justice,” Argyll said defensively.
Jamie slammed his fist down on the table. “Alasdair MacGregor did not get justice, he got trickery and deceit. We might as well go back to feuding as a way of solving problems, living up to the barbarian name the king calls us. We are the men in charge. We have to show leadership. Vendettas are exactly what I’m fighting against. If this is your solution to instilling law and order in the Highlands, I want nothing to do with it.”
“It wouldn’t have been necessary hadyoubrought the outlaw to me in the first place.” Argyll’s mouth fell into a flat line. “As was your duty.”
Was that what this was about? Jamie knew his cousin had been angry, but he thought he’d understood. “I explained to you why I felt it was necessary to negotiate with the MacGregor—after the disaster with the Lamonts.”
Argyll dismissed the destruction of Caitrina’s clan with a short wave of his hand. Jamie clenched his teeth. At times, his cousin’s callousness annoyed the hell out of him.
“Your brother acted rashly,” Argyll conceded.
An understatement if there ever was one. “And he did so in your name,” Jamie pointed out. “You would have lost support of some of the other chiefs if amends were not made. Handing MacGregor over to the king was to remove any taint of his death from you. Alasdair MacGregor’s blood would have been on his hands. Instead you’ve made it worse. God, Archie, don’t you realize what you’ve done?”
“I’ve gotten rid of a notorious outlaw, a murderer, and a rebel.”
“Aye,” Jamie said through clenched teeth. “And with your deceit and trickery you’ve made him a martyr. This will unite the outlaws like nothing else. There will be renewed fighting.”
“Bloodshed is to be expected. Your brother has gone to help our kinsman Campbell of Glenorchy in putting down the rising.”
Well, that was some measure of relief. At least Jamie would not have to confront Colin while at Dunoon. They’d argued badly the last time they’d met over his attack on the Lamonts.
There was a gleam of satisfaction in Argyll’s eye. “Every one of the thieving, murderous vermin will be rooted out and put to death.”
Argyll’s irrational zeal and single-minded determination to see the MacGregors destroyed jeopardized Jamie’s hopes of seeing a lawful society emerge in the Highlands. Not for the first time, he wondered what was behind his cousin’s hatred—it almost felt personal. “Your hatred for the MacGregors has made you blind to anything else. With this one rash act you could well lose the support that we have carefully constructed over the past few years. It’s not only MacGregors who will retaliate, but other chiefs will look at this as an example of what they can expect from you—and from me.”
Jamie could tell his cousin was a little taken aback, perhaps realizing the truth of his words. “I don’t know why you are so upset. It’s not as if you exactly have a laudable reputation in the Highlands. Your name has been blackened before.”
“Aye, for the sake of our mission I’ve been willing to be known as your ruthless strong arm, but I’m not willing to be known as dishonorable or deceitful. Up until now I’ve never been ashamed of anything I’ve done. But your clever play with words has impinged upon my honor and my word.” Jamie shook his head. “I thought better of you.”
The disappointment in Jamie’s voice finally penetrated Argyll’s defenses. He sagged a little in his chair. “Alasdair MacGregor has been a thorn in my side for a long time.” He met Jamie’s stare. “And I may have acted rashly in my eagerness to remove him. I can’t say I’m sorry to see him dead, but I regret that doing so may have reflected poorly on you. It was not my intention. Surely you must realize that?”
Jamie arched his brow in surprise. His cousin rarely apologized. The acute feeling of betrayal was softened a bit by his cousin’s words. He did believe him. “Perhaps it wasn’t your intention,” he pointed out. “But it was the effect.”
“You’ve always had an appalling amount of integrity.”
Though Argyll said it as if it were something to be ashamed of, Jamie knew that his integrity and loyalty were what Argyll most admired in him. Contrary to popular opinion, his cousin—known as “Archibald the Grim”—did have a sense of humor. “It’s served you well,” Jamie reminded him.
“Aye, it has.” Argyll sighed. “We’ve been through a lot together.” His face hardened. “When your brother . . .” He paused, searching for the word.
“Left,” Jamie filled in, rather than “betrayed us,” as they were both thinking. If anyone had been hurt more than Jamie by Duncan’s betrayal, it had been Argyll.
“Left,” Argyll continued. “I never blamed you or your brother and sister, though many urged me to do so.”
Jamie nodded, knowing it was the truth. Many of the young earl’s advisers had been eager to see the Campbells of Auchinbreck lose their favor. But instead, Archie had taken them in and rallied around them, showing the loyalty to their father that Jamie’s father had shown him. “I’ve always been grateful for what you’ve done for us,” Jamie replied. “And I’ve paid you back with years of service and loyalty—but my loyalty is not blind.”
“You can’t really mean to walk away,” his cousin said. “Not after everything.”
Though Argyll did not posit it as a question, Jamie sensed his anxiousness. If Jamie broke with him and laid down his sword, Argyll knew it would not bode well with the other chiefs—many of whom viewed him as a check on his powerful cousin, in addition to being his strong arm. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”
Argyll looked him in the eye and said flatly, “I need you.”
It was said with such honesty that Jamie couldn’t help but feel some of his anger dissipate. “No more tricks, Archie. No more vendettas. If you ever—”
“No more,” his cousin stopped him. “You have my word.” The earl stood and walked to the sideboard, poured two glasses of claret, and offered one to Jamie. Argyll studied him appraisingly. “I’ve never seen you so angry before. This doesn’t by any chance have something to do with your bride?”
