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Cameron glanced at Lachlan, expecting him to mock Iain for his obvious fear of the seer’s words or, at the very least, to disagree. Instead, Lachlan shifted from foot to foot, an uneasy look on his face. “Avoiding the lass seems the best course to me, as well. There’s nae any sense taking chances that any part of Eolande’s prophecy will come true.”
“How am I to avoid her?” he demanded, truly questioning it but also keenly aware that he wished to unravel her secrets, not avoid her. “My life hangs precariously in the balance,” he said, first eyeing Iain, then Lachlan. “I need to learn everything about this woman, because one small detail may verra well help me discover who she is and what she kens about Katherine’s murder.”
“Ye’re assuming she is nae lying about nae remembering, and that she will share what she kens with ye,” Lachlan pointed out.
“I dunnae believe she’s lying,” Cameron said, though he had questioned it at the very first.
“Dunnae be led by lust!” Lachlan spat.
Cameron inhaled slowly, working to control his temper. Was he being led by lust? He didn’t think so. It was more a feeling in his gut that had grown as he talked to her. Still, he would need to tread carefully. “I’m nae such a clot-heid to allow lust to rule me,” he growled, willing it to be true.
“Use yer head, Brother,” Iain said, clutching Cameron’s shoulder as he faced him. “If she is telling the truth—”
Cameron made a derisive noise from his throat. It was more of the same—his beliefs being questioned because his brothers did not think his instincts could be as sharp as theirs.
Iain held up a hand. “Hold yer temper. I’m also inclined to believe she is telling the truth, especially given what Marion told us about treating others with the same such injury.”
Cameron remained silent, recognizing the need to allow Iain to speak, though the ire that simmered within made him want to walk away from his brother.
Iain took a deep breath. “If she dunnae recall anything, what good does it do for ye to be around her?”
“She may say things without realizing it that might provide clues to who she is or what her part was in the attack, if she even had one,” Cameron explained.
“Lachlan and I can listen for such things just as well as ye could,” Iain insisted. “And we will order Broch and Ragnar to guard her when we are nae with her. Yer time will be better spent scouring the countryside for information on the man with the mismatched eyes and the scar.”
The desire to argue his brother’s logic burned through Cameron’s body, which is exactly why he merely nodded. He was not ruled by lust, no matter what his brothers thought. His desire to be around her was great, it was true, so he’d do the opposite. The less time he spent with the lass, the less time for him to do something foolish that would make Eolande’s foretelling a reality.
Iain cleared his throat. “I ken why ye feel as ye do about being to blame for Katherine’s death, but ken this, I will nae let ye die because of it.”
“Wewill nae let ye,” Lachlan added. “Dunnae fear that if ye kinnae find her murderers that we will stand by and allow the king to kill ye. It is our brotherhood that makes us invincible. Only alone are we weak.”
Cameron’s chest tightened in gratitude, but the frustration that they were in this situation because of him still boiled below the surface.
“We defend one another always,” Iain added so fiercely that it almost seemed as if he could read Cameron’s thoughts. Iain held out his forearms to be clasped, as they always did as a symbol of unity before separating for battle.
Aware of his brothers’ expectant looks, Cameron stuck out his own forearms to be clasped as he gripped theirs.
“Agreed?” they asked.
“Aye,” he replied, though guilt and shame made him want to disagree. He’d set out to prove he was their equal, and instead, he had dragged them—devil take it, he’d dragged the entire clan—into a dangerous situation. Self-loathing filled him. He wanted their respect, and the only way to earn it was to show them he deserved it.
“I’ve nae a doubt that the attack on Katherine was meant as a direct attack against the king,” Iain said.
Lachlan and Cameron both nodded, and Lachlan said, “The king has many enemies.”
“Aye,” Iain agreed, then looked to Cameron. “Ye have always been very astute when it comes to matters of Scotland, the king, and the other clans and nobles all vying for power. Do ye have any thoughts as to who could have ambushed ye?”
Cameron considered the question for a long moment, thinking on all the men, most especially the nobles, who were vexed—no, that word was not strong enough—disgustedwith the king. “The Earl of Ross, as the king stripped him of one of his castles recently, and the Campbells possibly because of their recently failed attempt to manipulate the king. They likely have not given up the idea that they should have a measure of control in ruling Scotland.”
Both his brothers nodded and gave him almost matching expectant looks. That they sought his opinion and seemed to trust it made his chest feel full. “Possibly the Earl of March.”
Lachlan nodded. “Aye, I agree. I kinnae think of any good reason why he attempted to marry his son to Graham’s wife, Isobel, other than to gain her castle so he could control the sea entry to the Isles. We all ken that whoever controls the entry to the Isles holds a powerful position that could remove David from the throne if enough forces rise against him.”
“Aye,” Iain added. “And March did it all secretly, trying to keep the king in the dark. I dunnae trust him at all.”
“Aye,” Lachlan and Cameron agreed.
“Since ye mentioned Isobel and Graham,” Iain said, referring to their other brother who now lived at Brigid Castle with his wife, “we need to send word to him about what has occurred. Who should we task with it?”
