“Aye, and the situation is especially sensitive these days, since the attempt on the young prince’s life. Many Scots are shouting for justice, and they look at every Hanoverian as a murderer. The fact that Catherine was recovered in Italy does not reflect well on her, since the Stuart court is currently in Rome.”
Lachlan stopped what he was doing and faced Angus with a frown. “What are you speaking of? Do you mean Charles, the son of King James? He is an infant in the cradle. Are you saying someone tried to murder King James’s newborn son?”
Angus regarded him with disbelief. “You trulyhavebeen obsessed with your curse, Lachlan. You’ve not seen what’s been happening all around you.”
Instantly frustrated, Lachlan swung around and yanked at the saddlebags to ensure they were soundly in place. “Well, that’s about to change.”
He could no longer continue to live for his vengeance alone. If Murdoch and Raonaid succeeded in raising another rebellion, more of his countrymen would die.
And who the devil tried to kill young Prince Charlie?
“What do you want me to do?” he asked Angus pointedly, facing him again. “I could try to talk sense to Murdoch. Perhaps discourage him from starting another war.”
Angus moved forward and stroked Theodore’s neck. “That won’t be necessary. My good friend Duncan MacLean, the Earl of Moncrieffe, knows the right people, and he is planning a trip to Edinburgh very soon. He will take on that challenge. He has no love for Murdoch. Butyou…”Angus’s blue eyes narrowed. “Just keep Lady Catherine safe. Use false names at all times. Do not stay long in Edinburgh, and keep your presence there a secret. After you’ve met with Raonaid, deliver Catherine home to Drumloch as quickly as possible to collect the inheritance. Once it belongs to her, it will no longer be a temptation for the Jacobites.”
“It won’t be easy to keep our presence a secret, once we meet Raonaid.”
Angus nodded. “I understand your concern, but I know Raonaid. She will not betray a twin.”
Lachlan eyed him carefully. “What if you’re wrong?”
“Then do what you must to keep her quiet. Whatever it takes.”
Four other clansmen entered the stables just then, and Lachlan turned. “Good morning,” he said, forcing himself to focus on the task of leading these men into the Lowlands and delivering Catherine safely back to her family. “Are you packed and ready to go?”
“That we are, sir,” Roderick replied. “You remember my brother, Rodney?”
Indeed, Lachlan had known these men for many years. One was tall, dark, and lanky; the other was short, big boned, and fair-haired—their differences due to the fact that they had the same mother but different fathers.
“Aye, good to see you again,” Lachlan replied as they shook hands.
“This here is Gawyn MacLean,” Roderick said. “He’ll be doing the cooking for us.”
“He’s one of Duncan MacLean’s men,” Angus mentioned. “We fought together at Sherrifmuir and wreaked havoc together for a few years afterward. He’s an expert swordsman and fast on his feet.”
Gawyn was a tall Highlander who sported a shaggy mane of red hair and a matching beard. His freckled face was marked by a diagonal scar. He stepped forward to pump Lachlan’s hand.
“And this is Alexander MacEwen,” Roderick continued. “He knows every loch, glen, and glade from here to the bottom of the Scottish Borders. He’ll keep us heading in the right direction, won’t you, Alex?”
The fourth clansman reached out to shake Lachlan’s hand as well. He was a good-looking young lad with brown hair and gray eyes.
“Are you new to Kinloch?” Lachlan asked. “I don’t remember your face.”
“Aye, sir,” Alex replied in a polite tone. “I’m second cousin to the chief’s wife. I came up from Glasgow six months ago, took a shining to the place, and never left.”
Angus gestured toward Alexander with a toss of his golden head. “He’s a good man, and I’d trust him with my life. He and Gwendolen grew up together. He’s a fast rider, and good with a sword.”
“Ah,” Lachlan replied.
A shadow passed across the open stable door just then, and Catherine stepped into view, wearing the shabby old cloak he had purchased from Abigail. Beneath it, she wore a modest blue skirt with green plaid trimmings, and green stays over a white shift. Her hair was swept up into a loose, untidy knot.
It was all part of the disguise—to prevent her from looking like an heiress—but he wasn’t sure how much good it would do. She was still breathtakingly beautiful. All the men, including the great Lion himself, went speechless for a moment while she stood before them in the doorway.
Lachlan approached her. “Good morning, Lady Catherine.” He respectfully offered his arm.
Her expression warmed at the sight of the same chestnut gelding he had purchased for her at the inn where they spent their first night.
Patting Theodore’s nose, she whispered, “We meet again.” She ran her gloved hands down the smoothly muscled length of his neck. “Well groomed, I see.” She stroked his shining mane, and he responded by nuzzling her ear.
