Warmth suffused Cameron at his father’s praise. “Then perhaps ye will be more amenable to a match with Rose. I have given some thought to the idea of wedding Lady Mary Rose.”
Sutherland snorted.
“Mary is the eldest daughter, the titular heir,” he continued, ignoring his father’s reaction. “If Rose fails in his quest to sire a son, Mary’s husband will be the one to hold Rose and keep it out of Grant hands.”
Sutherland reined in and regarded his son. “A wee convenient, would ye no’ say? Since ye are besotted with the lass.”
“No’ besotted, father. In love with. There is a difference.”
“Or ye have taken yer sense of obligation for her care of ye and turned it into something else entirely.”
Cameron felt his temper rise and controlled it. “Ye ken me better than that. Aye, I am the youngest and have done my best to stay as far away from the responsibility of yer position—and Ian’s when the time comes—as I can. So aye, ’tis ironic to hear me plead to wed a lass who will, for all we ken, one day be laird. Or she may no’. Her da may succeed in getting a son on his new bride. I find myself willing to take the chance, either way. Though I’d prefer to bring her back here, she is worth the risk of remaining at Rose.”
“Aye, ye always did ken yer own mind. And were an excellent observer of others.” Sutherland tightened his grip on his reins and kicked his horse into motion. “So ye love the lass.”
Cameron hurried to catch up, relieved his father seemed to understand. “I do. I have nay doubt, and itsurprises the hell out of me. I love the lass, not her prospective position in the clan.”
“Then why are ye here?”
The question seemed so out of character, Cameron didn’t know how to answer. Then he thought back to the way his father had brought up the betrothal offer. “Wait a minute. Was this business with MacKay your way of testing my interest in Mary Rose?”
Sutherland threw back his head and laughed. “Ye always were a bright lad.” Then his expression grew serious. “Not the only reason, but an important one. Go to Rose. Win yer lass. I will support ye in this. I willna let Grant make Albany’s control of the north unassailable. If that can be accomplished without bloodshed, so much the better. If her father objects to yer betrothal, as ye say he has done with the younger daughters, remind him of Sutherland’s might, and of our alliances. If he’s as ambitious as ye say, ye should be able to convince him.”
“I hope ye are right. James Rose can be difficult when it comes to his daughters.”
“Then use yer keen powers of observation and discover why. Or, if ye think ye can get an answer without getting tossed in the Rose dungeon or getting yer head removed from yer shoulders, just ask the man.”
Cameron snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Sutherland flicked the reins. “Do that,” he said as his mount cantered forward. “And keep me apprised,” he added over his shoulder. “I dinna want to hear what ye have done in another letter from James Rose.”
Cameron nodded as his father got out ahead of him. He was content to let him take the lead. He’d done what his father asked. It was time to do what he needed.
Chapter 11
The next morning, Cameron turned his face into the freshening breeze, enjoying being back at sea on a Sutherlandbirlinndespite the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. The ship had sailed smoothly this far, but now it bit through the increasing waves, its sails bowed like full bellies, ready to burst. He didn’t care if the deck tossed beneath his feet. He was on his way to Mary, finally, and if the storm-driven wind got him there faster, he’d ride it out and thank the saints for it.
He would make a life with her, whether Laird Rose approved or not.
He thought back over his father’s praise of his intelligence and sense. High praise, indeed, from Laird Sutherland. And a balm to Cameron’s damaged ego. It made him proud. After their discussion, he found himself even more determined to do anything necessary to stand at Mary’s side and be an asset to her. He thought about how he would approach James Rose and ask for Mary’s hand. He had only himself to offer her, weakened, yetdetermined—and Sutherland, powerful and strong. He hoped that would be enough for her father and her.
Would Mary accept him? Would she welcome him back to Rose? After his conversation with his father, after he declared his love for Mary, he could not return to Sutherland without her.
He would stay as long as it took to win her. What happened after they wed would depend on her. He would remain at Rose with her if she remained the Rose heir. Or, if she wished it, though the consequence of abandoning Rose seemed dire, he would return with her to Sutherland as soon as he could get her away from her father, his seemingly lamb-headed wife, and any bairn they might produce. If she became laird, his answer would be the same—he would remain by her side.
If Mary had missed him half as much as he missed her, all would be well. If not, he would convince her. A vision of her filled his mind, blonde, laughing, eyes snapping at some clever remark one of them had made, then coming toward him, gaze locked on his, until his lips met hers and he lost himself in her kiss. Just thinking about her made him hard and hungry for her.
“Ho, Cameron, a moment of yer time,” Malcolm called, interrupting his thoughts.
“Aye?” Cameron glanced around, surprised at how dark it had gotten while he woolgathered.
“Storm’s coming on fast,” Malcolm said, pointing. “Help me take down the sail.”
Cameron leapt to the ropes. He and Malcolm made fast work of securing the sheets. The pull and tug bothered Cameron’s injury only a little today, so he tookone of the rowing stations and helped steer thebirlinncloser to shore.
“Have we reached Rose territory yet?” Malcolm, sitting opposite him, asked over the rising wind.
“Nay. Brodie, I think.” He studied the storm clouds. “’Tis time to put ashore and seek shelter with them.”
