Chapter 31 #2
“I know that sounds odd coming from me,” MacLean said. “But it’s the truth. Anyway, Campbell has no heirs, so the English will more than likely take his land. The last thing we want is England owning more land in Scotland, and Campbell has quite a bit of it.”
He had a very good point. Cait had been so focused on what it would mean for her to lose Iain that she’d not thought about what it would mean for Scotland to lose Iain.
She thought of the times when she and Iain had spoken of the English and Scottish disagreements.
Iain was certain that Scotland would lose the battle of being an independent nation and felt that what they needed was a good balance that would benefit both sides.
Who would fight for Scotland now? No one straddled the English-Scottish line like Iain did.
“Then we should walk in and ask for a meeting with Cumberland,” she said. “Is he even in Scotland?”
They all looked at one another and shrugged. No one knew, but they were about to find out.
—
Sutherland refused to leave for Fort Augustus until the next morning, and Cait was beyond frustrated.
Eleanor gave her a beautiful bedchamber, but Cait didn’t sleep.
She was sitting at the window and looking out at the night sky, thinking of Iain, wondering if he was well, if he was alive, and why she’d wasted so much time with her trivial fears and worries, when someone knocked softly on her door.
Before she could bid the person to enter, the door opened and a shadow scooted in and quickly shut it.
Cait remained in her seat and watched the shadow flit toward her, wondering if she’d finally lost all good sense and was either dreaming or seeing things. Strangely, she wasn’t frightened. It was as if she’d lost that ability by this point.
The shadow stopped before her, forming into the visage of a young girl, or an effeminate lad, or a woman, Cait couldn’t tell which.
The person looked her up and down, hands on hips. She was small, almost fairy-like. Had the fairies sent someone to watch over her?
The girl—woman—tilted her chin up at Cait, who wondered if it was some sort of greeting or acknowledgment.
“Can I help ye?” Cait asked.
“I’m Maggie MacLean.”
Colin MacLean’s wife. Cait had heard of Maggie.
The rumors that the lass liked to dress like a lad must be true, because Maggie was wearing a white shirt tucked into breeches.
She was a slight thing but moved like a dancer, swift and graceful.
Her hair was shorn, but it was becoming on her, curling around her face, accentuating her high cheekbones and large eyes.
“It’s nice t’meet ye, Maggie MacLean.” Cait didn’t comment that it was odd to be meeting in the deep of the night in her own bedchamber. Nothing seemed odd anymore.
“Colin told me about yer problems,” Maggie said, still eyeing Cait. “It’s sorry I am about the Campbell.”
“Thank ye.”
Maggie’s eyes narrowed. “I thought…well, I thought maybe ye might want to talk, seeing as I’ve been a guest at Fort Augustus myself. I’m no’ sure I can ease yer mind about the Campbell, but I know what it was like, being there and all.”
Cait’s heart softened, and tears sprang to her eyes at the thoughtfulness of Maggie MacLean. She was rough around the edges but clearly had a large heart.
“I’m worried about him,” Cait said through a tight throat.
“May I?” Maggie indicated the other half of the window seat where Cait was sitting.
“Of course.” Cait scooted over and Maggie sat down, leaning against the wall so she was facing Cait. She pulled a booted foot up on the seat and rested her arm on her bent knee. Cait had never seen a woman sit in such a way—plenty of men, but not a woman.
“Do ye think he’s still alive?” Cait whispered her worst fear, the one that she’d barely allowed herself to think.
“Oh, aye,” Maggie said with conviction. “If there’s one thing the damned English like to do, it’s prolong the agony. They’ll no’ be through with him just yet.”
Cait wasn’t sure whether that was good news or bad. He was alive, and she would cling to that hope.
“Colin thought I might ease yer fears, but I think I’m doing the opposite,” Maggie said.
“No. I want to hear this. I need to know. My imagination is probably far worse than what ye can tell me.”
“It’s rough,” Maggie said softly. “They’re no’ nice to the Scots, that’s for certain.”
“Even though they think he’s an ally?”
Maggie shot her a veiled look. “That might help. But he’s also suspected of killing English soldiers.”
“Soldier. Just one.”
Maggie’s look turned to pity. “There have been a few more English soldiers killed. They’ll try to blame him.”
Cait’s hand went to her throat and she swallowed. She’d not even thought about that. “How can we save him?” she asked.
Maggie paused for so long that Cait began to lose hope.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “But ye’ve got Sutherland and MacLean on yer side, and I do know that’s a powerful force.
They’ll do whatever they can to help the Campbell.
He saved their lives, and they’ll do no less.
They owe him that.” She sat forward, and by the light of the moon, Cait could see the glimmer in Maggie’s eyes.
“Don’t tell anyone this, but I think Sutherland and MacLean sort of like the man. ”
—
They mounted up and left very early the next morning. Maggie and Eleanor stayed behind with a contingent of MacLean and Sutherland warriors. Eleanor hugged Cait tightly. “God be with you,” she whispered.
“Thank ye,” Cait said.
Maggie stepped up to her. Instinctively, Cait knew that Maggie wasn’t the hugging type.
“Thank ye for the visit last night,” Cait said. “It eased my mind a bit, and I enjoyed the company.”
Maggie’s smile was mischievous, and Cait wondered how MacLean kept his wife in line. “Ye be safe out there, and don’t let those men command ye about. They tend to do that from time to time.” She touched Cait’s arm, then immediately drew away. “Take care of yer man.”
Cait swallowed and wondered if she would have the chance to take care of Iain. “I will,” she said.
Maggie nodded and stepped back, and they rode away—Cait, Sutherland, MacLean, and a very small contingent of their warriors. They’d decided that fewer was better and that it wouldn’t be prudent to ride into an English stronghold with an entire army of Scottish warriors.
They had ridden only a few miles when their path was blocked by MacGregor and Graham with Rory and Tavis.
“If ye’re here to tell me to abandon my quest to free Iain, then ye best turn around and go home,” Cait said, unwilling to listen to her grandfather’s stories of how bad the Campbells were.
She glared at Rory, whose gaze slid away from hers.
Where the hell had he been the last several days?
And what, if anything, had he found in those woods?
“We want t’help,” Graham said. “MacGregor and I are too old to go traipsing off to Fort Augustus, but we want to lend our support. We’re sending Rory and Tavis with ye.” He paused and looked sheepish. “If ye don’t mind, that is.”
Cait paused, overwhelmed by the humbleness of Graham’s offer and the sincerity he showed. He truly did want to make amends. And while MacGregor had not spoken, neither did he say anything to the contrary.
“I thank ye,” she said with a voice that wavered from too much emotion.
“Campbell and I have had our differences, and I don’t much like the man, but I know he didn’t kill that soldier or the others. What the redcoats are doing ain’t right,” Graham said.
MacGregor nodded his agreement when his gaze locked with Graham’s. “Aye,” he said. “I don’t much like Campbell, I think everyone knows that. And I still hold the Campbells accountable for my father’s death, but I don’t want t’see him die at the hands of the redcoats.”
“We’re riding to Fort Augustus to try to free him,” she said. “We’ll accept any help ye can give us.” She nodded to Rory and Tavis, trying to hold Rory’s gaze, but he wouldn’t look at her.
“We’ll let ye be on yer way,” Graham said. “Send word if ye need more men, and MacGregor and I will provide them.”
“We’re no’ declaring war on the English,” Cait said, somewhat amused. “We’re coming in peace to talk to them.”
MacGregor harrumphed and Graham rolled his eyes. “Ain’t no talkin’ peace with those bunch of numpties. If ye need men, send word.”
Cait bit back her smile, touched by their generosity toward a man they both held no love for. “Thank ye,” she said.