Chapter 21 #3
Elodie nodded slowly. “And in Ronan’s case? His father left a will?”
“He did. Split the Campbell lands equally between the five brothers. But Bryce contested it, tried to take the lot. Why do ye think there was such strife between them?”
“And Ronan gave his portion up? Just let Bryce have them?”
“Aye.”
“But...” Elodie frowned. “Was there paperwork?”
Faye blinked. “Paperwork?”
“A deed. A charter. Witnesses. Anything official that would have ceded Ronan’s lands to Bryce?”
Faye gave a puzzled shake of her head. “I doubt it. As far as I know, after that fight with Bryce, he walked away.”
Elodie’s pulse quickened. “So he never formally surrendered anything?”
“Not so far as I know.”
“So legally...” Elodie’s eyes narrowed as she felt the final pieces slide into place.
Bryce wasn’t driven by hatred of his brother.
He was driven by uncertainty. To his eyes, Ronan had returned to claim lands that legally he still had every right to.
Bryce had to know that if Ronan pushed his claim in a court of law, he would win.
No matter what Ronan told him, Bryce wouldn’t believe he’d come for any other reason.
How could he when things had been left so bitter between them?
She tried to put herself in Bryce’s shoes. He must be terrified that the strife within the Campbell clan would reignite all over again. He must be terrified that his world was about to be thrown into upheaval with the return of the brother that hated him enough to stab him.
What must that be like for him, she wondered?
He didn’t know Ronan like she did. All he saw was the brother who’d almost killed him turning up on his doorstep, laying claim to his lands.
No wonder he’d refused them entry. No wonder he was wary.
He had no idea what Ronan’s intentions were.
He had no idea of the man Ronan really was.
But she did. She knew Ronan better than anyone. She knew him, deep in his soul. She knew that he wasn’t interested in Bryce’s position, his wealth, his power. But how could she make Bryce himself see that?
She looked back towards the bridge and Faye watched her carefully. “What are ye thinking?”
“I’m thinking,” Elodie said slowly, “that Bryce needs convincing Ronan isn’t the man he thinks he is. He needs convincing Ronan isn’t trying to take anything from him.”
Faye’s eyebrows rose. “And how will ye manage that?”
Elodie smiled faintly then shrugged. “The same way I handle difficult stakeholders back home. I’ll ask him what he actually wants. And then we’ll negotiate.”
Without another word she turned and began walking towards the bridge.
“Elodie?” Faye called after her.
“Stop Ronan from coming after me,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
She reached the bridge and hesitated for only a moment before setting her feet on the rough stone. Quickly, before she could think better of it, she walked across, the sound of the river rushing along beneath her.
At the far end one of the Campbell guards immediately lowered his musket. “Halt.”
Elodie raised her chin, forced herself to meet his gaze, and ignore the gun pointing at her chest. “I’d like to speak with the earl.”
The man laughed. “Oh would ye now?”
“I’m unarmed and all I want is to talk.”
Another guard approached. “What does she want?”
“Says she wants to speak to the earl.”
The second guard studied her. “Who are ye?”
“My name is Elodie MacNeil. I have information for him. About his brother.”
The second guard’s eyes narrowed. Her heart began to pound. What if they refused her? Then her scheme would be over before it began.
“I have a proposal for him,” she added. “One that might deliver some rebels into his hands. I’m sure he’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
Still the guards studied her. Then one of them grunted. “Wait here.”
Several long minutes passed. Elodie glanced back and saw the people of the Steading had realized she’d left. They were clustered around the far end of the bridge, watching her. She could see Ronan at their head, both Faye and Eamon standing in front of him, trying to keep him from following her.
Don’t come over here, she prayed silently. Trust me to do what I must.
Finally, the guard returned. “His lordship will see ye.”
Elodie nodded, letting out a long, slow breath and followed the guard as he turned and led her further into the camp.
She passed between rows of tents until she reached a large canvas pavilion.
A tall man stood outside. He was broad-shouldered and dark-haired, with a scattering of silver at the temples.
He looked older than Ronan by perhaps ten years and shared the same penetrating blue eyes.
“So.” His voice was calm. “Ye are one of my brother’s people?”
“I’m Elodie,” she said. “Thank you for agreeing to speak to me.”
She eyed him. So this was Bryce Campbell, the famed Earl of Newborough? She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. A mustache-twirling villain perhaps? What she found was a tired-looking man who seemed like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He sighed, rubbing his eye with one finger. “What can I do for ye, Elodie? I’ve already heard my brother’s platitudes. I have no stomach for more.”
Elodie nodded. “I know. Which is why I’ve not come to give you more of them. I’ve come to find out what you want.”
Bryce blinked. “What I want?”
“Yes. Tell me what brought you here. What do you want out of all this?”
He gave a short laugh. “That’s an unusual way to begin a negotiation.”
She crossed her arms. “So?”
He studied her for several moments. Finally, he answered. “To protect my clan.”
She nodded. “Good. What do you think Ronan wants?”
“My lands.”
“Has he actually said that?”
Silence. She waited. Bryce’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “No. But ye expect me to believe—”
“What exactly did he ask for?”
A flash of annoyance crossed his face. He clearly wasn’t used to being spoken to so directly. “Safe passage for his people.”
“And what did he offer in return?”
Bryce’s jaw tightened. “His own life.”
She held his gaze. “Does that sound like someone who’s come to threaten you?”
For the first time, Bryce had no immediate answer.
She pressed on. “You think he’s returned to challenge you. I know he has a legal claim on these lands. But has he claimed it? Has he told you he wants them back?”
Bryce’s jaw tightened. “No.”
“Then what exactly are you defending yourself against?”
Bryce looked away. Towards the bridge. Towards the refugees beyond it.
“I’m doing my duty,” he said quietly. “To protect my people.”
Protect my people. They were the same words that Ronan had used so often. Perhaps the two brothers were more alike than they realized.
“Exactly.” She nodded. “And what is Ronan’s duty?”
He didn’t answer but his jaw tightened further.
Elodie answered for him. “His duty is those people over there. Don’t you see? Your duty to your people is what brought both of you here. Not old hatreds. Not old grudges and trying to claim what the other has. But because you are both trying to do the right thing!”
He didn’t answer. She could almost see him thinking.
“So,” she said gently, “don’t ask whether you trust Ronan. Ask yourself what you would do in his place.”
He gazed back at her, a faint annoyance in his eyes. “Ye have quite the persuasive tongue, lass. Ye would do well at court.”
Elodie gave a small smile. “I’m just trying to avoid strife. What if there was a way to give both of you what you wanted?”
Bryce crossed his arms and snorted. “And how do ye suggest we do that?”
“Write an agreement. A charter. Whatever you call it. You restore the lands that were originally settled on Ronan, but he swears fealty to you and you keep overlordship of those lands. You guarantee protection to the people settling there. In return, Ronan and his people will work those lands and shore up this border against the rebels beyond. And you get your hands on Henry and Alana Murdoch.” She met his gaze steadily.
“Everyone gets what they actually want.”
Bryce was silent for a very long time. Finally, he said quietly, “Ye speak as though settling disputes is yer profession.”
A smile pulled at her lips. “Managing people is my profession. It’s much the same thing.”
He almost smiled back. Almost. “Ye’ve given me much to think about.”
Hope flared inside her. “So you’ll do it?”
Bryce gazed towards the far bank where Ronan stood amongst the refugees, staring across the bridge at her.
Bryce sighed. “I’ve responsibilities ye canna begin to understand.
Ye paint a compelling utopia where somehow my brother and I have resolved our differences and can all live happily ever after.
But the real world isnae like that. And I canna risk the lives of my people on the word of a lass I’ve known for five minutes. I’m sorry.”
The words were like a cold knife sliding into her stomach. She cast around desperately for an argument, some carefully crafted logic that would sway him. But she’d used it all up and could think of nothing else that might reach him.
“It has been an...interesting discussion,” Bryce said “But my answer remains the same.”
A guard approached. “I’ll have ye escorted back to the bridge.”
Elodie stared at Bryce. She’d been so certain she’d found the answer.
So certain. But swaying a Highland lord to let go of a festering enmity against his brother was not the same as swaying nervy stakeholders or squabbling contractors.
Not the same at all. Feeling oddly numb inside, she turned and followed the guard towards the bridge.
She’d come agonizingly close. Close enough to make Bryce hesitate but not close enough to change his mind.
And now everyone she cared about would pay the price.