This time a low curse came from Conall as his brother caught up with him just before he reached the stable.
“You’re bringing her back?”
“Mayhap here, mayhap further north, I dinna know where we’ll go—but I swear that Aengus Butler willneverhave her, not as long as I breathe.”
“Are you mad, Cameron? Aye, I hoped Aislinn might be the one for you, but that was before we knew of her betrothal! Her finding her way on her own is one thing—but for you tae lay claim tae her now? You know such a move will bring both the King of Scots and an irate Irish lord down upon you! You’ll lose everything, this fortress, your title!”
Cameron wheeled around so abruptly that Conall fell back, startled.
“What do I care for those trappings if Aislinn isna by my side? You’ll never understand because you’ve never lovedanywoman, just dallied with them and seduced them—aye, and broken more than a few hearts along the way! It’s a pitiful life you’ve led, Conall, not tae care for another soul more than your own cravings and desires!”
Cameron could see at once that Conall’s expression had darkened, but the harsh words were said and couldn’t be withdrawn—not that he would do so.
His brother needed to hear them, for who knew what might happen once Cameron defied King Robert? Conall might soon find himself named the new baron of Campbell Castle with their clansmen houndinghimto take a bride!
At that thought, Cameron gave a dry laugh, but he felt no humor.
Aislinn was out there somewhere—mayhap in a warm bed with a roof over her head and food in her stomach and kind people surrounding her… or mayhap not.
That latter possibility made him lunge into the stable, his pressing thought to saddle his stallion and head out into the night.
He was hungry, aye, but he didn’t want food.
He was exhausted, but he didn’t want sleep.
To see Aislinn again… aye, to hold her in his arms and know that she was safe, wasallthat he wanted.
This fortress and his brother’s reservations and a king’s displeasure be damned!
Chapter 18
“She smiles at us, Mama, but still she looks so sad.”
Aislinn found it hard to swallow her mouthful of porridge at Sorcha’s half-whispered comment to her mother, but it was true all the same. These good people, Leith and Jeanne MacLean, and their sweet daughter, had offered up their home the moment Aislinn appeared on their doorstep two days ago, and had given her food and shelter.
As they finished their breakfast in companionable silence, Leith, a strong, sturdy farmer, got up from the table and went outside to resume his morning chores while Jeanne began to clear away the bowls.
“Let me help you,” Aislinn offered, but the kind-faced woman shook her head.
“You need more rest, go on back tae bed with you. You’re no longer pale as when you first came here, but all the same, I’d feel better about it.”
“Oh, Mama, Aislinn promised she would help me gather the eggs this morning!”
“Indeed, I did… I’ll be fine, truly.” Aislinn rose from the table and went to a peg near the door where she had hung her cloak, and settled the garment around her shoulders. “I’ll be nice and warm against the morning dew. Shall we go, Sorcha?”
The beautiful girl bobbed her head, Aislinn thankfully seeing no ill effects after the terror Sorcha had suffered at the hands of those English soldiers. As blond, blue-eyed, and fair as her parents were both dark-haired and brown-eyed, Sorcha grabbed Aislinn’s hand once they were outside, as if to hurry her along.
She couldn’t help wondering again at the difference in looks between parents and daughter, but she supposed such an odd thing could happen when it came to children.
She remembered Cameron, too, had appeared surprised when Leith and Jeanne had run from their home to tearfully embrace Sorcha, their love for the girl so evident in the kisses and hugs they had rained down upon her.
Was it two weeks already since that happy reunion? Then, later that evening, Cameron had given Aislinn his own knife so she would have a weapon to protect herself—ah, God, it hurt so much to think of him!
Was he thinking of her, too? Or had he thrust her forever from his mind, believing that she had married Aengus Butler? Mayhap he thought her dead… or mayhap he hadn’t thought of her at all for not telling him about her betrothal, and only believed the worst of her—
“Aislinn, why do you look so sad? Are you thinking of Laird Campbell?”
She nodded at Sorcha, her heart warmed by the girl’s compassion, for she had told the family the truth of why she had fled to their farm.
