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‘Do not fear for us, Father. I am a Campbell through and through, and we always find a way to triumph. You have told me that often enough, have you not?’
‘Aye, and I believe it now. You have become the man I always knew you could be.’
‘Kenna and I are going to a new life. We will make it ours, and if the pardon comes, so be it. If it does not, then the New World is there for the taking for those who are brave enough and strong enough to tame it. Icando this. Now you can’t tarry. You must get clear of this thing, and the tide will turn soon. We have to go.’
Duncan grabbed Conall to his chest and put his hand around the back of his head. For the first time in his life, Conall realised that he was bigger and taller than his father.
‘Do you have the letter of introduction?’
‘Safe and sound.’
‘Good. Your cousin is a generous and prosperous man. He will see you right. I will send money and word from home as soon as you tell me where you are settled. Go and live your new life with pride, son. You will forever be in my heart.’ With that, he pushed him away and turned his back, facing into the cutting wind.
Conall went over to Kenna. She was filthy, pale and her eyes were so raw from crying they had swollen up, and he had never loved anything so much in his life. He took her hand and helped her gently into the boat. As they were rowed out to sea, he shielded her from the wind and let her sob against his chest. He had no tears, for whatever lay in Ireland and beyond, he was ready for it. As Conall looked back at his father for what could be the last time, he took Kenna’s hand and held on to it for dear life.
Chapter Thirty-Three
One month later
Father Boyle sped into the hall. ‘Laird, a visitor. That witchfinder dares to come back.’
‘It’s taken him long enough,’ said Duncan. ‘I thought he would be at my door long before now.’
‘But Laird, what are we to do?’
‘Bring him to me. Rory, your wife, where is she?’
‘In our chamber, sleeping. I just left her.’
‘You should go to Monnine until this wretch has been despatched.’
‘If you think that is best. And what do you mean by despatched?’
‘Just go, my friend, and let me deal with this.’
Duncan’s tone was light, but Rory knew what lurked underneath it so he left the hall reluctantly.
Thomas Crouchley strode into Dunslair’s great hall moments later and stood before its Laird, arrogant and outraged when he should have been wise enough to be fearful.
‘My name is….’
‘I know who you are,’ replied Duncan evenly.
‘I heard rumours your son has escaped to Ireland with that witch of a wife of his.’
‘My son has taken himself off to Ireland, yes, exiled because of you.’
‘It is where he belongs, with those savages and peasants. Your son released a condemned witch and carried her off before the sentence could be carried out.’
‘So for now, he is lost to me. God will judge my son, I am sure of it, or the King, for I have petitioned him for a pardon. I can’t have my family name blackened by that accusation, and I have friends in high places, so eventually, I will get my way, and he will return.’
‘You’re lying. You don’t have that kind of power.’
‘Lying am I? So, you wish me to be done with all the pretence. You really want us to be honest here?’
Duncan took a step towards the witchfinder, who found that, up close, Laird Campbell was a very formidable man indeed.
‘Come up against a penniless girl without protection, come up against my son who has not yet come into his power, and you may triumph. Come up against me, and you will break. In England, the tide is turning against you. All your blood-letting has gained you the wrong kind of attention.’
