Page 68 of My Highland Love

He had always been prepared. The men who guarded the walls monitored the village to the east, the loch to the west, and the valley that stretched for miles to the south. The weight of guilt bore down in greater measure. His people depended upon him. Yet the enemy found a crack in his defenses. A shudder ran through him. Nell had very nearly been a casualty of his carelessness. Had Katie's life been forfeit because of such negligence? Aye, she still lived, her heart beat, she breathed, but her mind had ceased to work. Her spirit lay hidden in some dark corner of her being. He had failed her, as he had nearly failed—

Marcus slammed his fist down on the desk. “Who informed the Campbells of the routine? They attacked our women before our very eyes. Why such a bold move?”

Cameron answered in a low voice, “It doesn't seem strange to ye, lad, that we've had Campbells on our land three times in as many months?”

Marcus's mouth hardened. “Aye. But why?”

“Mayhap the why and who are the same?”

Marcus stilled. “What do you mean?”

They stared at one another for a moment before Cameron said to the men, “Lads, leave me with my son.”

The men filed out, the last closing the door behind him.

Cameron looked at Marcus. “You mean to say you don't know?” Marcus only looked at him and his father went on, “You know well enough the trouble began with Elise.”

“Aye, they are using her—”

“You are sure it's them using her?”

Marcus started. A surge of anger rammed through him, the first genuine hostility he'd ever felt for his father. “Bloody hell, Cameron, you're saying Elise is in league with the Campbells. They nearly killed her.”

“Nae,” Cameron replied. “In fact, the lass returned in remarkably good shape.”

“The tracks I saw say otherwise.”

“You are a fine tracker, but you are no master. You should have had Johnson—”

“I did take Johnson, if you recall,” Marcus interrupted.

“But he did not see the tracks you interpreted as her capture.”

“I made no mistake in my interpretation. What has happened? You were in favor of my having her.”

“Aye,” Cameron said. “And I like her. But that does not change the fact she is the most likely suspect.”

Elise's expression when he sent John with her to the loch came to mind. She had been angry. Any woman would be angry. He had nearly imprisoned her—and why?

“She lived here four months before I arrived with no such trouble,” Marcus insisted.

“Mayhap the Campbells intended you to want her so they could use her against you.”

Marcus laughed harshly. “The woman who escaped the Campbells was no collaborator. Nae, Cameron, you have no grounds for suspicion.”

“How long have they hated us?” his father demanded with more vehemence than he'd heard in his voice since before his mother's death.

Blood lust shot through Marcus. “I will kill every last one of them.”

“Aye. And condemn more men to die. What of their wives—their children?”

“We have dealt with them for years—centuries,” Marcus snapped.

Cameron grunted. “King George is likely to tire completely of the fight and finance the MacGregor's annihilation.”

Though King George had remained quiet, Marcus knew the king forbade any Campbell reprisal after Marcus attacked Assipatle in retaliation for Katie MacGregor's rape. His intervention had saved many lives. But the sovereign's mood swung between reality and fantasy, his mind controlled by liquor and the laudanum he kept ready at his bedside. Where his loyalties would lie tomorrow was anyone's guess.

“If he takes that course of action, he'll regret it as long as I draw breath,” Marcus bit back.