Chapter 19
“I didn’t tell MacGregor ye were coming.”
Iain paused to stare stunned at Alasdair Graham. “You didn’t tell him that I asked for this meeting?”
“He never would have agreed to come. He despises ye, lad.”
“Many people do,” Iain said wearily. “What about you, Graham? What do you think of me?”
Graham shrugged. “Just because I agree that this feud needs to end does no’ mean I agree with everything that comes out of that gob of yers.”
Iain grinned. He liked and admired Graham, a once-in-a-lifetime chief whom others looked up to and tried to emulate.
Graham was fair and honest, and if he was your ally, then you were lucky.
“All I want is to speak to some chiefs and see if they are amenable to maybe talking to the English about negotiating peace. Just like this meeting.”
Graham eyed him with a skeptical eye. “And ye think they’ll be open to this? Ye’re mad, Campbell.”
“I didn’t say they had to agree with me. Just listen to me. Your support would go a long way.”
Graham seemed to consider, and Iain’s heart beat a little faster. Could he convince Graham that working with the English would help Scotland in the long run?
“Who told ye that the English want to take our weapons and disband our clans?”
Iain hesitated, not wanting to reveal all of his sources for fear it would get back to him, but this was a pivotal moment, and he couldn’t hold back or Graham would not trust him. “Captain Palmer.”
Graham screwed his lips to the side and seemed to think about it. “I’ll no’ say aye or nay right now, but I will say Sutherland speaks highly of ye, and that gives me pause to think on it.”
Iain let go the breath he’d been holding. It was more than he’d hoped for and less than he needed, but he’d take it for now. Knowing not to push too far, he said, “What reason did ye give MacGregor for this gathering?”
“That I needed to meet with him to discuss something important.”
“That’s a wee bit vague. And what do you think he’s going to do when he sees me here?”
“Getting him here is half the battle. Getting him to listen will be the other half.”
Iain rubbed his forehead when, really, he wanted to pound it in frustration. “I’ll have to trust you in this, Graham.”
Graham just shrugged. “We shall see how it goes.”
The housekeeper knocked and opened the door to announce Wallace MacGregor. Iain steeled himself for the battle that was about to come.
MacGregor stepped inside and came to a stop when he spotted Iain. “What the hell is this?” he exploded.
“Welcome,” Graham said as he came forward to meet MacGregor. Apparently too surprised to protest, MacGregor allowed himself to be pulled farther into the room.
Adair, Rory Graham, and MacGregor’s second in command, Tavis, stepped into the room and shut the door. Rory planted himself in front of the door and crossed his arms. Adair positioned himself on one side of the room and Tavis on the other side.
MacGregor glared at Iain, then at Graham. “What nonsense is this?”
Iain tensed. Once weapons were drawn, nothing would be accomplished, and any chance of peace between the Campbells and MacGregors would be gone.
“Campbell wanted to meet with ye, and I knew ye would never agree if ye knew ahead of time,” Graham said.
“Of course I wouldn’t have agreed! The man is an ijit, and I will no’ give him any of my time.” MacLean spun around to walk out the door, saw Rory glowering at him, and paused.
“Be reasonable, Wallace,” Graham said as he took a seat. “The two of ye need to come to terms. This ridiculous feud needs to end.”
“The hell it does.” But MacGregor’s voice had lost some of its heat. It had been a long time since Campbell had faced MacGregor, and he appeared older, more tired, weary. However, Iain refused to be fooled by the man’s appearance. His hatred was just as sharp and dangerous as ever.
“All Campbells are murderers!” the man suddenly bellowed.
“Don’t be a fool, MacGregor. Sit down.” Graham indicated a chair opposite him.
“Nay. I’ll be leaving.”
“Ye’ll no’ be leaving.”
MacGregor glared at Graham. “So ye’ll add kidnapping to yer list of sins?”
Graham sighed. “I knew this was a bad idea,” he muttered, mostly to himself.
Iain wanted to step in but feared making matters worse, so he sat quietly while MacGregor stood in the middle of the room, bristling and growling like a cornered boar.
“Ye deny yer sins against my family?” MacGregor asked Graham.
Iain’s attention sharpened. This was getting interesting. MacGregor must hold a grudge against other clan chiefs as well. And what were Graham’s sins against MacGregor?
“Sit down, Wallace,” Graham said firmly. “Quit blustering like an idiot. There are no sins against yer family.”
Iain bit back a smile. These two acted like old friends who had a lifetime of bickering between them, and Iain really wanted to know what MacGregor was referring to.
MacGregor puffed out his chest. “No sins? No sins, ye say? Yer daughter killed my son.”
Iain sat forward, more intrigued than ever. He looked at Adair, who shrugged, indicating that he had no idea what this conversation was about.
Graham looked pained, and a fleeting moment of grief crossed his face. “Our children did no’ kill each other. My daughter died in childbirth. Yer son killed himself.”
What in the hell was this? To Iain’s surprise, MacGregor’s chin trembled, and he suddenly looked like a vulnerable, weary old man.
“Both deaths were a tragedy,” Graham said quietly. “And both were mourned by the Grahams and the MacGregors.”
“Ye allowed Catherine to wed that numpty bastard.”
Graham’s narrow-eyed gaze moved to Iain then back to MacGregor. “We’re here to discuss the feud between ye and Campbell, no’ the one between us.”
Catherine?
The only Catherine related to Graham would be Cait. Why would MacGregor care that Graham had allowed Cait to wed John? And what was this about Graham’s daughter killing MacGregor’s son? This was getting very interesting indeed, but Graham was right, it wasn’t why they were here.
MacGregor crossed his arms. “There’s nothing to discuss. My father’s death must be avenged.”
“Sit down, MacGregor,” Iain said calmly but with authority.
MacGregor turned to him. “Mìle marbhphaisg ort, Campbell. I’ll no’ be taking orders from ye.”
Iain rubbed his eyes. A thousand curses on you, MacGregor had said. The man was daft.
“The only feud is with yourself,” Iain said.
MacGregor pointed at him, his face alarmingly red. “Ye deny that yer kin killed my father?”
“I don’t deny it.”
MacGregor’s finger wavered. His arm dropped to his side and he seemed to be at a loss for words.
In some ways Iain was sympathetic to MacGregor.
He was an old man clinging to the old ways.
His entire life had been about revenge and retribution, and while the world had moved on, he had remained firmly entrenched in his outdated beliefs.
“Even though I wasn’t alive when it happened, I apologize for the deeds of my grandfather. I find his actions unacceptable and reprehensible.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that I don’t condone his actions, and I would never allow that to happen under my leadership. What my grandfather did was wrong.”
The air seemed to go out of MacGregor, and he looked from Graham, who was watching the scene calmly, to Iain. He then looked around the room at Rory, Adair, and Tavis and seemed to realize he was standing alone. He sat heavily in the chair behind him and rubbed his eyes.
“He broke a long-standing unspoken rule. My father asked for sanctuary and yer grandfather offered it, then killed him in his sleep when he was defenseless and thought he was safe.”
“I know.” Iain had heard the story over and over in his youth.
His own father didn’t understand the actions of his father.
Neither Iain nor his father was certain why it had happened, other than Iain’s grandfather was a supporter of the English and MacGregor’s father was not.
But even then they’d not been adversaries.
MacGregor dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. “The Campbells ruin everything,” he said to no one in particular.
Iain remained quiet on that topic because he didn’t want to get into another argument. That wasn’t why they were here.
“Ye killed my father and ye stole my granddaughter,” MacGregor said.
Iain stilled, his gaze going to Graham, who was watching him passively. “Your granddaughter?” he asked.
MacGregor raised his head and looked at him with red, watery eyes.
“My own granddaughter broke my heart the day she was born, the day her mother died and my son took his own life. But I loved the lass just the same. And then she did the unthinkable. She up and married a Campbell.” He snorted and shook his head.
“Cait?” Iain asked on a choked voice.
“Aye. Cait.”
Cait was the granddaughter of both Graham and MacGregor? What the hell? The granddaughter of a Graham and a MacGregor, two of the biggest clans in Scotland, was living in a small cottage on the edge of his land when she could have anything she wanted.
“So are we agreed that this feud has ended?” Graham asked.
MacGregor seemed to think for a bit. “I suppose since Campbell agreed that his family was in the wrong, the feud has ended. Although we MacGregors should receive some sort of compensation for the death of my father.”
Iain nearly choked. “Compensation? Are you mad?”
MacGregor glared at him. “Yer grandfather—”
“Killed your father while he was asleep in my home. I know. I’ve heard the story over and over, but you’ll not be getting any compensation from the Campbells.”
MacGregor sat forward. “Now see here—”
“No. You see here. You’ve been stealing my cattle for years, and you set fire to my land and destroyed an entire field of winter feed for my livestock. That’s all you’ll receive from me.”
MacGregor opened his mouth and then closed it.
“Do ye deny stealing his cattle?” Graham asked.
“Nay,” MacGregor said reluctantly.
“And did ye set fire to his land?”
MacGregor looked ill. “It was just supposed to be a small corner of the field. The whole field was not supposed to go up in flames.”
Iain slumped back in his seat. What a bloody waste over a bloody feud that had happened decades ago.
“I don’t think Campbell owes ye anything,” Graham said sternly.
MacGregor looked like he wanted to argue, but Graham held up his hand. “But ye owe him.”
“Me?” MacGregor sputtered. “I’ll no’ pay the man a bloody bawbee.”
“Ye’ll no’ have to. Ye’ll give him some of yer winter feed.”
“Nay!”
“Aye,” Graham said calmly. “It’s only fair, since ye took all of his.”
MacGregor glowered at Graham, but even MacGregor was not powerful enough to argue with the great leader.
“Very well,” MacGregor said reluctantly.
“I thank you,” Iain said just as reluctantly.