Fifteen #3
Lord Phillip, Alex Haddon, and Colster’s men moved to do the same. They didn’t appear any more pleased with Colster’s actions than Gordon was. Constance’s sisters watched with worried silence.
The duke raised his voice, addressing the Scots and saying, “You believe the Sword of the MacKenna will take you to victory. You’re wrong.
There is no victory in civil war, and that’s what you’d be doing.
I know a good number of you men. I lived amongst you.
I’ve heard your stories. I can’t give back your homes, but I can offer something else.
I have land in England. I have enough to deed to each of my clansmen—those who followed Laird MacKenna in his ill-advised rebellion—a parcel.
You can use this land to rebuild your lives, to let your children grow healthy and strong. ”
The duke pointed to the sword in the ground.
“There is the Sword of the MacKenna. Those who wish to pledge their allegiance to it may do so. Those who want something more for their children, come to me. My man is waiting at the Stag, an inn in Fort William. Use my name and he’ll see to your needs.
As for Miss Constance Cameron…” He turned to Gordon.
“I want her back. You have the sword. I receive the girl. Those were your terms. She’s not a part of this. ”
Gordon was too stunned by Colster’s offer to reply immediately. He was offering peace, a gift so generous and rare, it forced Gordon to reevaluate everything he thought he’d wanted.
His father had been a man of peace, and Gordon realized he’d taken that memory and subverted it through his pursuit of rebellion. In a blinding moment of insight, he realized how deeply his love for Constance had changed him.
But before he could speak, Thomas shouted, “We support the Lachlan. ’Tis not land we want, but justice.”
“Justice!” Brian echoed, and the others took up the call, the word louder and stronger each time it was repeated.
Justice. The word he had used over and over to spur them on, Gordon thought.
Colster was not pleased. “They’ll think on it,” he said to Gordon. “It’s a good offer. An honest one. You have your sword, Gordon, and it appears that unless someone”—he emphasized the word, letting Gordon know he meant him—“convinces them otherwise, the Highlands will be set on fire.”
“If you are so certain of war, why are you giving us the sword?”
“Because I believe you will do the right thing,” Colster answered. “It has to be laid to rest sooner or later. That sword is an evil thing. Use it for good, Gordon. Create a new legend with it.” He walked to Constance. “Are you ready to go, lass?” he asked.
She looked to Gordon, panic in her eyes, and Colster took a step back in surprise. “You’ve fallen in love.” He made an exasperated sound. “Lachlan, have you no sense? Haddon and my brother want to rip your throat out over your kidnapping her. If they think you have touched her—”
“I touched him,” Constance said proudly. “I love him. And I don’t care who knows.”
Colster glanced at the Scots and the English. “Keep your voice down,” he warned, “or you will see the three of us murdered.” On either side of the field, people strained to see and hear what was happening between the three of them.
Constance’s face tightened in defiance but she didn’t argue.
The duke looked to Gordon. “And what of you? Are you in love, too?”
“Yes,” Gordon answered, the word coming straight from his heart.
Colster swore. He pulled Gordon away so he could speak without Constance overhearing.
“And now what?” he asked bitterly. “What do you have to offer her, man? Even if you rein this rebellion in, you are heading for the gallows. The girls at that school for young women came from families all over England. They wrote home about Constance’s kidnapping.
My brother has enough influence to keep this story out of the papers but it is whispered everywhere.
Constance will not find it easy in London.
Her sisters are beside themselves with worry over how to protect her.
Meanwhile, the government has declared you an outlaw and increased the price on your head a hundredfold.
You are a hunted man, Gordon.” He made an exasperated sound.
“And you say you love her? How much, then? Do you love her enough to let her go?”
Gordon looked at Constance sitting on Tempest. She was so valuable to him.
She shook her head as if she had an inkling of what he was thinking. “What did the duke say?” she demanded, not caring whether her voice was overheard. “What has he told you?”
And it was then Gordon knew Colster was right.
Because she loved him, Constance would follow him to the end…and it would destroy her.
He loved her too much to let her make such a sacrifice.
On the Scots’ side of the field, Thomas had urged them to start calling for the sword. They shouted, “MacKenna,” a demand for the symbol of not only their clan’s pride, but also their heritage. A man didn’t walk away from that, not even for love.
Gordon knew his way was clear. There was only one choice he could make.
“Take the girl,” he said, and placing his hand on the sword hilt, pulled it from the ground.
The Scots cheered.