“And if it turns out she had information ye or grandda might use?”
Alexander lifted his tired eyes to his son. Had Reade ever seen his father’s eyes so weary? The conflict with the Campbells was taking its toll on his father as much as it had robbed Reade of his kin. Another reason to despise the Campbells.
“And ye want me to wed a lass I’ve never met, never seen, who may be a spy and aligned with the Campbells?” Reade stated flatly, trying to control his rising ire which was difficult enough when he wasn’t watching his life unravel. “What’s in this for me? What do I get for taking on this burden?”
Seamus gave his son a wry side-grin. “A grateful clan and laird. A pleased mother and father. A wife. A pretty and compliant one I’ve heard. And she’s from a fine family, the Hamiltons. Surely ‘tis enough?”
Reade stood without answering and strode stiffly from the hot room. He had no answer, and any protests he made regarding this horrid arrangement would fall on deaf ears.
His father, his laird, had commanded, and Reade, ever the obedient son, would do as he commanded.
Reade escaped his father’sstudy in a deep sulk and stormed from the keep. He found Maddock by the stables, flinging hay into the horse stalls with an unwieldy pitchfork. But Maddock handled it easily. A few inches taller than Reade but less bulky, most farm implements looked small in his brother’s long-fingered hands. Slender threads of hay wove into his sun-kissed hair, making it look lighter in the dim aspect of the stables.
Yet, Reade saw none of this. Fury at his father’s asinine plan coated everything in shades of red. Surely his father would come to his sense by the time they reached Kinlochleven. How could a man who claimed to love his son make such a demand?
Maddock noticed his brother as he entered and dug the pitchfork into the peat where the handle leaned against a wooden post.
“What ails ye, brother? Ye look as if ye’ve seen a spirit!” Maddock’s voice was light, teasing, and Reade cursed him silently for his inability to see the ire burning from his skin.
Then again, Maddock wasn’t known for his ability to read people. His curious gaze remained on Reade as he slipped his plaid back up and over his shoulder. Reade thrust his chin at his amiable brother.
“Father needs us. We are to ride to Kinlochleven and retrieve a potential spy. We are meeting Uncle there, I presume. Help me saddle the horses. Father should be here promptly.”
“Och, a spy. Are we taking him to Glengarry?”
Reade’s lips worked hard against his teeth before he spoke. “No’ quite. Father, Granda, and Glengarry have other plans for this spy. It seems she’s coming here.”
Maddock stiffened, making him appear even taller, and his easy-going expression slipped. “She?”
He grinned at his brother. Reade, however, frowned harder at his brother’s good-natured response.
“Let it rest. I dinna ken the details. Ye can ask Father, if he’s up for talking. Come on, dinna dally. It’s a long ride, and the sooner we get there, the sooner we can get home.”
Maddock didn’t move. Rather, he looked down his fine patrician nose at his brother. “Seems ye are a bit perturbed about this task. Is there something more to this spy?”
Reade turned away from him with a wave of his hand. “Never ye mind. Just get the horses.”
Christ’s blood,Reade cursed to himself. If his addle-pated brother didn’t keep his mouth shut, his father wouldneverchange his mind.
And by the time this lass reached Glenachulish, that would be the outcome, Reade promised himself.
He was not going to wed a possible treasonous Campbell spy, no matter how bonnie the widow might be.
