“Aye, I do,” Angus said in a low trembling voice, almost a whisper. “I have no intention of letting Chattan get anywhere near Annabella.”
His father’s brow shot up. “Annabella, is it? Do I detect a sense of protection in you? Have you fallen for your prisoner then?” His father grinned.
Had he fallen for her? There was no doubt he would not allow any harm to come to her, but did he love her? Angus envisioned her smiling face and then the worry she wore when he had sent her off into the wood. He prayed she had reached Graham safely. A great knot lodged itself in his gut at the thought of anything bad befalling her.
“Well, it appears you do not need words in order to answer my question,” his father said. “Your expression says it all. My son has lost his heart to this woman!”
“Hush, Father, I do not want these men to know of my attachment to her.”
His father smiled broadly—something Angus had rarely seen since his mother had passed on.
“You do not care that she is Sassenach, or of her relation to the Stewart?” he asked his father.
“I have had much time to reflect upon many things, Angus. And in that time I have learned much about forgiveness and tolerance. I wish nothing more than for you to never be tainted by the fury and hatred that fuelled my actions. If you have allowed your heart to be touched by a woman in her position, then I believe you are the man I hoped you would become; a much better one than me.”
Angus had never heard his father speak in such a way. Either his time in the dungeon had truly transformed him—which Angus prayed was true—or he had gone mad, and there was no hope for any of them.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Annabella followed closely behind Iain. She dared not engage with or walk close to Graham. She knew he would protect her, as was Angus’s wish, but he was obviously bothered by her presence. She could not help but wonder if, somewhere deep down, Graham still thought she had killed or maimed Angus. As if such a thing were even possible for her. Never mind her size, she could never harm the man she—what? Loved? The thought hit her like a blow, and she stumbled on a partly unearthed stump.
“Have a care, lass.” Iain said. “If you break something, we will not be able to get you any help.”
A sobering thought, and one she would heed well.
Light faded quickly, and before long Graham held up his hand, motioning for them to stop. He crept on ahead, and disappeared into the brush. Annabella followed Iain and the other men off the road to the cover of the trees. Moments later, a rider trotted along the road and, within a minute or two, was out of sight and earshot again. How had Graham even detected him? Annabella would never have said a rider had been that close.
“There’s light through the trees up ahead,” Graham said, as he moved quietly through the wood. “I will take two men with me to assess the situation.” He turned to Iain. “If anything should happen, I will give the signal, then take her and go back to Oban as quickly as you can. Our two lairds are in that camp, and I intend for them to both enjoy freedom this night.”
“Be safe and Godspeed, Graham.” She did not know what else to say to him. He paused for a moment and then he was gone.
“What do you think will happen?” she asked Iain.
“I think there will be some very surprised men very shortly, and that we will see our lairds not long after that.”
“I sincerely hope you are right. And these Camerons? Are they a dangerous lot? More dangerous than our men?”
“Our men?” he asked, and chuckled. “Fancy yourself a MacDonald now, do ye, lass?”
“Oh no, I did not mean that. I meant—”
“‘Tis all right. I ken your meaning. To answer your question, the difference between us and them is that we do not attack unless we have good reason; they do so for sport.”
“And do they have a large castle fortress on an island, with a grand great hall, with vast wealth and plentiful lands?”
One did not have to look far to know that the MacDonalds had done quite well for themselves. Those kinds of acquisitions were never merely handed to a family. They were earned or they were taken. Annabella had a much better sense of the stories she had been told by her cousin. She could see how these men could be described as ferocious. And, in fairness, a part of her now felt that same drive to save Angus and his father, though she had never set eyes on the other man in her life.
No, something about this place drew out a sense of belonging she had never experienced anywhere, not even in the midst of her own family. Hers were more about plotting political gain, and less about fostering and protecting those around them. The clan system up here, while ancient and not without fault, made it possible for people to bond in a way that she had never seen before. It made her want that for herself—it made her want to be a part of this clan.
“They do not know how to care for what is theirs. They lack patience, and they lack the ability to build something in one place. Ramblin’ rovers is what they are, the lot of them.”
Though she did not know of the Cameron clan, save for the three she had encountered, the concept of what Iain said made a lot of sense. Angus had told her some of the history of his family, and the lands they had amassed throughout the Western Isles. It would appear, by the devotion displayed by the people she had encountered, that the MacDonalds took their role in the clan structure very seriously. They sought to protect, whereas there were clearly others clans bent on destruction and possession.
The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that here in the Highlands was where she truly belonged. Not only that, but with Angus they shared something she had never known existed outside of stories, and her cousin. Her own parents displayed no affection toward one another, and she had always been led to believe that marriage existed for position and gain, and that was it. The likelihood of actually liking your spouse was rare, and loving them rarer still.
So here she was, squatting in brambles wearing a servant’s gown, wrapped in a woollen plaid, something crawling up her leg, waiting to see her lover again. Yet she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Was she afraid for him? Of course. But somewhere within, she believed he would not be harmed. Though they had only been parted for a few hours, the ache in her chest made it feel more like weeks. She loved him, and she would not waste another minute denying it.
“Someone comes,” Iain said, rousing her from her musings.
