Chapter 10 #2
“Campbell and Hal—” She stopped herself from mentioning the English sergeant. Graham held no love for the English and would be furious to know that the soldiers came to her for healing. “And Sutherland,” she said, hoping that her grandfather didn’t speak to Sutherland often.
He walked around the outside of her cottage, eyeing the woods perched close to her home, surveying the house with a critical eye. Cait dismounted and led her horse to the barn, where she gave it oats and made sure it was comfortable for the night.
Her grandfather was walking the perimeter of her land when she returned.
“Would ye like to come in?” She opened the front door and Black Cat was sitting there, waiting for her. She bent down to pet him, feeling his purr all the way through her arm.
Her grandfather gave the cat a cursory glance as he walked in. Cait lit some candles and stood uncertainly in the middle of her sitting room.
“Good Lord, lass. This is what the Campbell has forced ye to?”
“Of course not. I choose to live out here. I like it.”
He glared at her, clearly disbelieving her. “This is where ye and yer husband lived?”
“His name was John, Grandfather. And no, we lived by the big house. When he died…” She swallowed as the grief washed over her. “When he died, all I wanted was to be left alone.”
He shook his head as he continued to look around. Finally, he turned that bright blue gaze to her. “It goes without saying that I was no’ happy about yer marriage to John Campbell.”
“Oh, I think there was plenty said on the matter.”
He grunted, but his lips twitched in a smile. “I regret my actions and words.”
She’d waited so long to hear him say that. One of John’s biggest regrets was that she had no relationship with her family. He blamed himself, though she’d always told him it didn’t matter, that he was her family now.
“But as much as I hated ye marrying John Campbell, I will no’ tolerate ye with Iain Campbell.”
She blinked, taken aback. “Ye think I’m in a relationship with Iain Campbell?” She laughed because the thought was so ridiculous she could do nothing else.
Her grandfather glowered at her. “This is no’ funny.”
“This is very funny. Grandfather, I have no interest in Iain Campbell.” As she said it, her heart did a funny turn that bemused her. “I was at the big house tonight because I was checking on the men who had been burned during the fire. Iain asked me to stay for dinner.”
He was silent for such a long time that Cait wondered if he’d even heard her. Then he grunted again and turned toward the door.
“Wait,” she said. “What does that mean? Ye don’t believe me?”
“Nay.”
“I don’t like Iain Campbell. I could never do that to John.”
He turned to face her. “John’s dead. He’s been gone for four years.”
She drew back at the frank words that stabbed her as easily as any dagger would. “So I should just forget him? Grief has a time limit and I’ve exceeded mine?”
His gaze softened. “Nay, lass. Ye should never forget him. But ye do have to move on. If ye don’t, ye become a crotchety, lonely old person whom no one much wants to be around.
” He opened the door. “But no’ with Iain Campbell.
I will no’ tolerate that. I’m serious, lass.
He’s dangerous, that one. I don’t trust him. ”
—
Iain wasn’t surprised when Graham showed up at his door after escorting Cait home.
He’d expected the older chief to come back.
The revelations of the night had rocked Iain, and he suspected that they had rocked Graham as well.
He wondered what the discussion had been about as Graham and Cait rode back to her cottage.
No doubt Graham had warned Cait against Iain.
And Iain was about to give Graham more reason to convince his granddaughter to steer clear of him.
“I suspect ye did no’ ask me to dinner to reintroduce me to my granddaughter,” Graham said when the housekeeper showed him to Iain’s study.
A fire burned merrily in the grate, enough to stave off the slight chill of a Highland night. Iain had already poured two fingers of whiskey in tumblers and handed one to Graham as both men settled into matching leather chairs facing each other.
“You suspected right,” Iain said.
Graham chuckled after taking a sip. “The look on yer face when you found out Cait was a Graham.” He shook his head and chuckled some more, although Iain saw the sadness in the old man’s eyes.
Graham cleared his throat and sat straighter.
“So what did ye feed me for? What were ye fattening me up for, lad?”
Iain took a deep breath. He hated this. More and more he just wanted to be a Highland chief, not embroiled in English or Scottish politics.
He wanted to work his land, meet with his people, and live his life.
But it must be done. He set his glass down on the small table beside him and contemplated Graham.
“Since Culloden, things have not gone well for the Scots.”
Graham snorted. “I should say no’. The bloody bastard Sassenach.”
“I don’t believe fighting is the answer.”
Graham looked at him sharply. “So ye say we roll over and let the English bugger us up the arse?”
Iain bit back his smile and shook his head. “I’m saying it’s time to try a different approach. You’re respected in these parts. I’d like your help.”
Graham’s expression turned wary and concerned. “How?”
Iain sat forward. “I’ve recently come across some information that if the Scottish people don’t start cooperating, bigger sanctions will be held against us.”
Graham tensed. “What could be worse than rounding up the Jacobites? Killing our men and raping our women? Damnation, Campbell, they’ve already weakened our forces.
People are leaving Scotland in droves. Just ask—” Graham bit off his sentence, but Iain could finish it for him.
Just ask Sutherland. Sutherland, who was sneaking the wanted out of Scotland under the noses of the British.
“It can be a lot worse.”
The two men stared at each other for long moments. “Ye fecking Scottish spy,” Graham said quietly.
Iain suppressed his wince and held his gaze with Graham. He didn’t deny the accusation.“They will take away your guns, your weapons. They will disband the clan system—”
Graham surged out of his chair and pointed a shaking finger at Iain. “The hell they will! You’re a fecking turncoat, Campbell. An English lover. I’ll no’ listen to another word of this from ye.”
“Please sit down, Graham, and hear me out.”
Graham stood before him, chest heaving, eyes flashing, then he ran a weary hand down his face and fell back into the chair. “I’m getting too old for this shite, Campbell. I never thought I’d see the day when Scotland would cower to England. I never thought I’d break bread with a traitor.”
“I want what’s best for Scotland, and I think we need to compromise before things get out of hand.”
Graham snorted. “As if they’re no’ out of hand now. They’re killing us.”
“And we’re killing them, and killing isn’t accomplishing anything. We need to compromise—”
“Hell no!”
“It’s the only way for Scotland to survive.”
“Ye don’t get it, lad.” Graham sounded weary, and for the first time Iain regretted bringing the older man into this. However, Graham was so highly respected that Iain would need him in order to convince the other chiefs.
“You don’t get it,” Iain said. “This is a different world from the one you were brought up in. The English won’t go away this time. They’re here to stay, and we have to find a way to live with them.”
“So a Campbell can fill his coffers even more? Ye should be ashamed of yerself. But then ye’re only doing what every Campbell before ye has done.”
Iain pressed his lips together. He should be used to these accusations, because he’d heard them his entire life. But Graham was wrong. Iain was fighting for Scotland. He wanted what was best for Scotland. Unfortunately, no one would believe him.
“This isn’t about me,” Iain said. “It’s about preserving Scotland.”
“By giving it to England so we can become just like them? Ye’re daft if ye think England will give us anything. Ye say they’ll take away our weapons? They’ll do it anyway, lad. Doesn’t matter if we work with them or no’.”
Was he right? Iain wasn’t certain, but he would help in any way he could.
“I think this is all about ye.” Graham stood. “I’m finished with this conversation. Ye’ll no’ have my support in destroying this proud country.”
He turned to walk out, then turned back and looked pointedly at Iain, reminding him that despite his age, Graham was a formidable clan chief. “Ye keep clear of Cait, Campbell. I don’t want her involved in yer schemes.”
“I think you gave up the right to dictate her life long ago.”
Graham glared at him and walked out.