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Calum chuckled. Talk of the past hurt him no longer. “I know ye’ll be fine, but now ye’ve got the new lass tae think of? Charlotte? Will she nae be staying around? I think Julia was thinking of asking her. Julia knows first-hand just how dull those bloody barracks can be.”
Angus didn’t reply. He didn’t want to talk about Charlotte. He knew what Calum was thinking, and he didn’t want to go down that road. Charlotte had become his burden to bear. He loved his new sister-in-law so much, and with all of the new responsibility being laid at his feet to save the clan while Calum was away, Angus felt like he needed to protect Charlotte more than ever, knowing how dear she was to his beloved sister. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the new happiness that had so lately come to Duart Castle, after so many years of despair.
But Charlotte Andrews was a nuisance, always heading out on her own to do the healing without informing him or anyone of her whereabouts. What would he do if something happened to her? The blame would be on his head, so he tried to know what she was doing and where she was going. He hoped that she would see sense and stop fighting him, understanding that, for her own protection, someone needed to know where she was at all times, then he could stop worrying about her and take care of what the clan needed. But it hadn’t worked. It merely made them sour against each other.
“If Julia asks her, I’m sure she will stay around as long as she can. She seems tae enjoy her work here,” Angus said without a smile.
“Julia mentioned that she might need tae leave soon tae go and stay with her father, now that he’s been installed at Fort William, but she might try tae persuade him tae allow her tae stay a bit longer. He’s allowed it thus far.”
Angus grumbled. “‘Tis good that she helps us out with her skills as a healer, but she only causes trouble. Might be better for her tae stay with her father so that he can keep an eye on her.”
“Why? Ye worried about the lass’ safety?” Calum said with a grin, and Angus stood up to leave.
“If ye’ve naething more, brother, I’ll be on my way.”
Calum couldn’t stop laughing. “Angus, yer growing back intae yer old grouchy self. I thought a new Angus was emerging once Julia came tae stay, but now ye’re all hardened and screwed up inside. Could be dangerous. Ye know how women have a desire to untangle messes of that nature.”
Angus grit his teeth. “We’ll talk later, brother.” He left to get out of the castle, so many thoughts swirling in his mind. He was happy for his brother, but he was afraid that when he left to go to London, the clan would fall to ruin once more, and it would be all his fault. It had fallen to ruin when Calum had descended into despair all those years ago, and he had tried to take charge, but it hadn’t worked.
Now, Calum was entrusting the fate of the clan to him, and he wasn’t sure that he would be up to the task. He left the castle and strode towards the shore, taking deep breaths of the breeze off the Sound. He watched the ripples in the water and thought about how they would soon need to go for another hunt again. He needed to do everything possible to be organized in time for the Campbell’s return.
The Campbell clan was in league with the English, particularly General Whiteman. They had come before winter to threaten them that if they did not bring their clan back to health, their land would be taken and given to the English. But the Campbells had had mercy on them and offered to wait until winter’s end before coming to make their claim. They had waited because Angus and Calum had exposed that the English were actually exploiting them and extorting money out of them. General Whiteman, unbeknownst to anyone, had been taking extra money in taxes, and so John Campbell, the Campbell laird’s much more able younger brother, had killed him by pushing him out of a window.
Campbell had been tried and acquitted by Charlotte’s father, and now, it was only a matter of time before the Campbells would live up to what they had said and come to see how clan MacLean fared after a long, hard winter.
They had done well, but Angus didn’t have the confidence to keep it going. His mind kept going over all of the bad possibilities when he was interrupted by a scream from the woods near the shore of the Sound. He turned and ran in that direction, his hand on his sword. His heart was beating rapidly. The first word that came to his mind was Charlotte. He wasn’t sure why, but as soon as he saw what was happening, he knew he was right to be worried.
* * *
Charlotte slowed her horse, taking in the view of the castle, the familiar, thick clump of trees at her side. It was an idyllic moment, and she knew that as soon as her father required her presence, the idyllic moment would be lost and replaced with the smell of leather boots, dirty men, and the clang of metal. She had done her best to convince him thus far of allowing her to stay longer, but once Julia left, there would hardly be any seemly reason for her to stay. They may need a healer, but her father would never approve of her duties in that respect; her only real purpose, as far as he was concerned, was to be a companion to Julia. She would continue to try and persuade him to let her stay for as long as she could.
And she would enjoy what time she had left. As she rode, she spotted a dark figure at the edge of the woods. The man was hooded and had a long beard. Usually, the inhabitants of the island knew her by name and would call out to her in friendly greeting or offer her tea or fresh bread. This man said nothing, and Charlotte was filled with a deep sense of unease. In order to calm herself, she called out a friendly, “Hello!” to the man, but he did nothing.
She did not recognize him. He was wearing a kilt, but under the long cloak, she couldn’t quite make out the colors and identify the clan. But it didn’t seem to be MacLean. She shrugged her shoulders, and as she was trotting by, decided to kick her horse into gear to move faster away from the man, but he was too quick.
He grabbed onto her leg and skirts and pulled her from the horse. The beast neighed in protest, going up on its hind legs in fear, before galloping off towards the castle. Charlotte toppled down onto the gravelly sand and winced as she fell. Part of her body had fallen on top of the man, and so he had cushioned her head. She was so in shock that she didn’t even yell.
Suddenly, as if in a dream, the man began pulling at her skirts, lifting them up above her thighs. She couldn’t believe what was happening. It was like she was frozen in a body, not her own. It was as if she was watching the attack from above, floating outside herself. He said nothing, but he was hoodless now, and Charlotte could see his cold eyes as he grunted in his effort. He stunk of alcohol and sweat, and lines of dirt-streaked his face.
She saw him lifting his kilt, and underneath she could see his pale member spring forward, long and hard. At that moment, she knew what he was about, and her body allowed her to yell out a long, blood-curdling scream. The man slapped her hard, and her head fell back in shock, bouncing sharply against the stones. She clutched her hand to her cheek, feeling the pricks of pain.
Fight back,her mind said. Kick him. Hit him. Do something! But she felt trapped; she could not control her movement, and it unnerved her. But to her surprise, the man was pulled upwards and knocked away. She looked to the side at his lumped form, lying still on the stones. She was breathing heavily, and she pushed her skirts down as she looked up into the brown eyes of Angus MacLean.
