Father Gordon walked over to a tall dark man with the thickest, blackest beard Adam had ever seen.
“Guy Chavell,” he announced. “Meet Adam Cameron.”
“Enchanté,” Guy said curtly then turned to the priest. “Avez-vous l’or, Mon Père? Have you got the gold, Father?”
“Of course.” The priest beckoned a burly guard who brought the little copper chest over and gave it to an equally heavyset French officer.
“Merci beaucoup,” Guy said politely, and then turned to go, but Father Gordon stopped him.
“What about your wounded men?” he asked. “May we not tend them for you? Are there many?”
Guy spread his hands and smiled mischievously. “Personne,” he replied. “None.” Then he turned and walked back to his men.
The French soldiers did not speak to anyone, or look around the village, or even say a prayer in the church. They were without a trace of sentiment. They had done their job, been paid, and now they were going on to the next one.
“Strange men,” Adam said as he watched them leave. “But good ones, Father!”
“Indeed,” Father Gordon agreed. He rubbed his hands together. “Now, I think we all deserve a drink!”
“Indeed we do!” Adam said thankfully.
22
It took a while to get the women and children down from the densest part of the pine woods and the hills above them where they had hidden in the caves.
Adam was in the town square waiting to speak to them because he knew it would be expected of him, but the long Highland dusk was beginning to thicken, and he wanted to be back in the castle by dark. And oh, how he wanted Emilia!
Presently he saw a stream of people all cheering and whooping victory cries, advancing towards him, with Emilia and Agnes at its head. Emilia was carrying Mara on her shoulders, but when she saw Adam she passed Mara to her mother and ran into his arms.
She looked him over for a moment as if to make sure that he was in one piece, then kissed him passionately and felt his instant response to her nearness. He pulled her against him tightly for a moment, then let her go and gazed into her eyes.
“All done Emmy,” he said simply. She said nothing, but buried her head against his strong chest.
Suddenly the crowd fell silent as Adam held his hand up.
“People of Inverinch,” he said loudly, “I am happy to tell you that Laird McElwee has been defeated, and we need fear him no more.”
There was a loud cheer and much whistling and applause.
Emilia looked at the astonished expression on his face. He had honestly not expected this, but his delighted grin told her that he appreciated it.
He held his hand up again, and there was silence.
“I propose that we make our two clans, and two villages, into one,” Adam announced. “It makes sense since they have no leader and we do. I know that my name is not Mackintosh but if you like I can change it, and change the name of my firstborn. Of course, this all depends on you accepting me as Laird. Will you take me?”
There was a murmur of consternation, and then one old man spoke up in a reedy but clear voice.
“But ye are no’ Scottish!” he cried indignantly. “Worse than that, ye’re a Sassenach!”
“My surname is Cameron,” Adam answered calmly. “Is that not Scottish enough?”
The old man hobbled a little closer, and then looked Adam up and down as if he were a horse that he was going to buy. He looked back at the crowd then Adam said impatiently, “What do I have to do to become Scottish?”
“Ye have tae marry a Scotswoman!” the old man replied with a mischievous smile. Everyone knew that Emilia was his love.
Adam sighed theatrically.
“I suppose I must do my duty then,” he said sadly. “Which one of you ladies would like to marry me?”
