Robert was all too happy to spend the fine day on deck with Janet. With her brother manning the helm of the three-masted barque, there was little more they could do than chat and stare into each other’s eyes. But they were together, and Robert was content. Later they moored in the saltwater Loch Eil and offloaded the horses, with a half-dozen Cameron men riding at their flanks. At the confluence with the River Lochy, Kennan pulled his horse to a stop. “This is where we part company.”
Robert nearly spat out his teeth. “I beg your pardon?” Had he given Cameron his trust only to be stabbed in the back?
But Kennan raised his palms. “During the voyage I thought long and hard about how to broach the subject of a union between Grant and Cameron with Da. You ken as well as I that my father will not welcome you straightaway. I bid you stay at the alehouse in Inverlochy until I’ve had a chance to explain matters.”
“I’d rather do that myself. I let your father take Janet away once before, and I’ll not sit idle while you do it again.”
The lady drew her reins through her fingers. “Surely we can speak to Da and then he’ll understand. Why insist he stay away?”
Kennan shook his head. “I won’t be swayed on this. I ken what is best, and I bid you stay the night in Inverlochy, and I promise I’ll send word on the morrow.”
“I do not like it. What if you are not convincing enough? I should be the one to speak with Lochiel man-to-man, laird to laird.” Robert’s hackles stood on end. Only Lewis had sailed with them; his other men were riding north and wouldn’t arrive for another two days. Two days and I’ll have the men to take Janet by force if I must. Weighing his odds, Robert dragged his fingers through his hair. On the one hand, Kennan made sense. Doubtless Lochiel would be irate at first. The old man needed time to mull over the idea.
Still, years of feuding made him doubt the young heir’s motives, even after his apology. “What say you, Janet? Is your brother speaking true, or is he about to strike me across the face?”
Kennan threw back his shoulders. “I said I was wrong. What more—”
“I. Will. Answer!” Janet boomed in a tone so commanding, every man in their party sat up and took notice. She turned her attention to Robert. “Kennan speaks true. Da has a temper like a tempest, but once it hits shore, it ebbs, and eventually the thunder and lightning are replaced by rays of sunshine.”
“Do you think he will listen to your reason, mo cridhe?”
Frowning, she tapped her lip. “Perhaps if Kennan is steadfastly backing me.” She thrust her finger at her brother. “Steadfastly! And with the letter written by Sir Broden, I think he might just be swayed.”
“This is not agreed.” Robert clenched his fingers around his reins. “I must speak to him directly.”
“Understood.” Kennan held up his palms—at least the man hadn’t drawn a weapon. He even sounded sincere. “Let us make a wee truce.”
“What say you? I turn my back so you can take a swing at me again while you plot against me with Lochiel?”
“Bloody oath, Grant, you make it difficult for me to like you. But my sister loves you. You have sworn to me you will make her the happiest woman in Christendom, and I damn well aim to hold you to it.” Kennan thrust his finger northward. “Janet and I will ride on and meet with our father. If I have not sent a messenger to Inverlochy by the noon hour on the morrow, you come to Achnacarry.”
“While your da places a sniper on the battlement walls, ready to shoot as soon as ye see my bonnet,” Robert growled, growing angrier by the moment.
“You have my word. Clan Cameron will grant you safe passage.”
“You have my word as well,” said Janet.
Christ. Robert groaned. “I’ll wait, but only if Janet thinks it best.”
She gave him a nod. “I do, until midday tomorrow.”
* * *
Janet wrung her hands, her eyes growing wide as Kennan opened the door to the library. “Is Da amenable?”
He gestured to his person with both hands. “I’m still breathing, am I not?”
“You’re hardly convincing.”
“I’d be lying if I said he was dancing a reel.” Kennan threw his thumb over his shoulder. “’Tis your turn. Hold your head high and stick to your convictions. He’ll cut ye to the quick if you do not.”
She grasped his hand and kissed his knuckles. “Thank you. Now wish me luck.”
He cupped her cheek. “Godspeed, Sister. You have survived his wrath before, as you will this once.”
She gulped as she stepped inside the library. Da was seated at his writing table, his fingers steepled against his lips. “Ah, my wayward daughter. It seems I send you to Glasgow to find a husband and you encounter Robert Grant. Tell me, does that man follow you everywhere you venture?”
Janet looked to the missive from Uncle Broden open on his table. Surely from that and Kennan’s testament, Da knew all the details of what had transpired. “I assure you my meeting Mr. Grant in Glasgow was purely by chance.”
“Likely story.”
“But fortuitous all the same.”
“Why him? He all but kidnapped you. The man is a dastard of the highest order.”
“He rescued me, Da. I’m certain you have already heard of his heroism regarding the fire.”
“Aye, but any man can fight a cripple.”
“Very well, if in your eyes Mr. Grant can do nothing heroic, then let me tell you I love him. I want to marry—”
“Ewen.” Lady Jean, Janet’s stepmother, entered. She shut the door behind her. “Before this goes any further, I believe I should have my say…”
* * *
Robert sat in the alehouse with his back to the wall. He clicked open his pocket watch for the hundredth time that morn.
“Still read quarter to twelve?” asked Lewis.
“’Tis fourteen minutes to twelve, ye wastrel.”
The man snorted. “Father Time enjoys playing tricks. There’s never enough of it when you’re working your fingers to the bone, and when you’re waiting, the clock seems to bloody stop.”
Robert looked to the bar, tempted to order a bottle of whisky. Unfortunately, doing so would be folly. Imagine showing up at Achnacarry in his cups, tripping over his feet, slurring his words, and most likely ending up with Kennan’s boot up his arse.
He pushed back his chair and paced…until he looked out the window. “Boar’s ballocks, the rascal is here.” In two strides he sat, tipped the chair back, and started cleaning his fingernails with a dagger. When the door opened, Robert feigned nonchalance, though his gut was spinning like a wheel.
As footsteps approached the table, he gradually shifted his gaze until he met Kennan’s blue-eyed stare. Interestingly, this was the first time he’d noticed the lad had his sister’s eyes.
They look bonnier on Janet. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” he said with a growl in his voice.
Kennan smirked. “Anxious? That’s not like you.”
“Aye? I reckon you might be as well if circumstances were reversed.” Robert looked to Lewis. “Give us a moment, please.” Then he signaled to the barman. “Two ales over here.”
Kennan slipped into the chair opposite. “Over the past month or so, I have had discussions about you with Ciar as well as my sister.”
“Have you now?”
When the barman placed two tankards on the table, Robert wrapped his fingers around the handle of one, Kennan the other. Watching each other’s eyes, they both drank.
“It boggles my mind,” Kennan continued, “but they both reckon you walk on water.”
“I doubt that.”
“Hmm. What perplexes me most was Ciar told me you had my unconscious body in your arms when he arrived at the bank of the River Lochy. Is that true?”
“It is.”
“Why would you ride to my aid when I cut your face only days prior?”
“Several reasons.”
Kennan arched his eyebrows in question before he took another drink. “Go on then. Unless it is a secret.”
Robert sat back and sighed. “First of all, I returned because I heard your sister scream. I didn’t care to admit it at the time, but I’ve always harbored a fondness for Miss Janet and I would never turn my back on her. Never.” He paused to ensure Kennan understood the depth of his sincerity. “Secondly, no matter how deeply the rift runs between our clans, in the face of another rising I would take up arms and fight beside you notwithstanding.”
A furrow formed between the man’s brows as he tapped his finger on his cup. “I misjudged you.”
The churning in Robert’s gut eased. “It has been known to happen.”
“I owe you another apology. In your eyes, I imagine I’ve behaved like a toad.”
Shifting his gaze aside, Robert gave a single nod. “’Tis difficult to cast aside centuries of feuding.”
“It is. And I tell you true, last night I spoke to my da. Janet, too. He’s not happy, but he has agreed to talk to you.”
“My thanks. That is all I ask.”
“Och, you’d best thank my stepmother. In truth, I believe she had more sway with the old man than either me or Janet.”
“Stepmother?” Robert couldn’t picture the woman. Janet hadn’t said much about her other than to indicate there was no love lost between them—though Lady Cameron was rather anxious to see her stepdaughter married.
“Aye, if anything she seemed overjoyed with the news.”
Robert shoved his chair away from the table and stood. “Then let us away.”
At a steady trot, it still took two hours to reach the castle. Robert had never been inside the grand manse, but he’d seen Achnacarry from afar, and it was nothing short of palatial. In truth, one of the reasons he had gone along with his father’s prejudices toward the Camerons was their lavish wealth. As with many Highland clans, their reputation was fierce; it held that when they were raided, they repaid with vengeance, burning and pillaging like savages. Now he rode beside the heir to the Lochiel lairdship straight up to the prominent double oak doors.
As they dismounted, Miss Janet cantered from the stables as if she were chasing a fox.
“What are you doing here?” Kennan scolded.
She ignored him and skidded to a stop alongside Robert. Her eyes flashed with mischief as she leaned toward him. “I’ve been warned not to speak to Mr. Grant when he arrives, but I will have him know I will be working my new gelding in the round pen for the duration of the afternoon.”
He grinned. “I hope to find you there. Soon.”
She gave him a wink as she rode away.
Kennan rolled his eyes. “Come, afore anything else happens. She’s supposed to be in her chamber.”
Robert couldn’t help his chuckle. Janet wasn’t one to obey orders, especially when they made no sense. Perhaps that’s what had attracted him to her in the first place.
The interior of the home was as magnificent as the exterior. The walls of the entry were trimmed with mahogany paneling and festooned with paintings. Robert turned full circle, examining the portraits of Camerons—men who had opposed his kin in battle.
Kennan gestured to a servant. “I must ask you to leave your arms with the footman.”
“You’re jesting.”
“I am not.”
“Bloody Christmas.” Robert removed his sword belt, his dirk, and his musket and gave them to a man who looked nowhere near as polished as Lionel in Glasgow. “I’m trusting you to watch over these as if they were your own.”
The man bowed. “Aye, sir.”
Kennan clapped Robert on the back. “Make no bones about it, Grant has been given leave to visit with Lochiel. Let us ensure we show him true Highland hospitality.”
“Understood.”
Robert watched the man retreat with his weapons—all but the daggers hidden in his hose. Was he doing the right thing by forging this alliance? His heart said yes, but his sense of reason wasn’t as convinced. Reason told him to demand his weapons back, head for the stables, open the gate, and ride for freedom like a pillaging Highlander with Janet across his horse’s withers.
But then there was the Jacobite cause. The succession. Camerons and Grants alike believed in the sovereignty of the Stuart line and, until the rightful king was once again on the throne, both clans could ill afford to bicker over grazing rights and petty cattle theft. Aye, during the time of his father, the Camerons had raided Grant lands, burning crofts and thieving cattle, and Robert’s clan had repaid in kind. Was either clan right?
And what of the feud? The Camerons accused the Grant woman of seducing their laird, and the Grants declared the lady had been debauched. Most likely neither party was wholly innocent, and after centuries, how could they ever uncover the truth, even though Robert sided with the woman?
The question is, will a woman be the one who ends the feud once and for all?
Kennan led the way up the old wheeled stairwell and through a dim passageway. He stopped outside an enormous door of oak studded with blackened iron nails. “He’s in the library. Are you ready?”
“Is Lochiel armed?”
“I’ve never seen him otherwise.”
“Then let us pray we find him in good spirits.”
As they entered, the old knight looked up from his ledger, which was spread before him on a writing table. “Ah, Laird Grant.” Though he did not stand, he gestured to the seat across from him. “Please sit. Kennan, leave us.”
The son bowed. “I’ll attend you outside the door.”
Sir Ewen of Lochiel needed no periwig; his wiry gray hair framed his face and curled just past his shoulders. His mouth was pinched, his nostrils were flared, and his eyes took on the color of coal. “I’ll be the first to say this news brought by my son last eve was nothing short of disturbing.”
“Was it?” Robert splayed his fingers at his sides to ensure he didn’t have a slip in judgment and lash out with a fist. “Is there any truth to the rumor I heard in Inverlochy that the Robertsons stole four and twenty head of your prime beef only a fortnight ago?”
“They did, the backbiters. And they will pay. But Kennan tells me you desire a truce. You intend to make Clan Cameron and Clan Grant fast allies.”
“I believe we would serve the cause far better as allies than as enemies. And word in Glasgow is that James is set to launch a rising if Queen Anne’s Act of Succession is invoked upon her death.”
“So ’tis true then.” The chief of Lochiel tapped the quill in its stand. “He made an appearance at the Duke of Gordon’s ball?”
“He did. And he looks well—in his prime. ’Tis a shame we have been forced to suffer the rule of the usurpers whilst our sovereign waits in exile.”
Lochiel nodded and smirked, his guarded expression softening. “I believe those are the first words from a Grant I have ever agreed with.” But his humor was short lived. He leaned on his elbow and looked Robert in the eye. “Tell me, why the change of heart? It hasn’t been long since we last faced each other in Glenmoriston.”
Taking a deep breath, Robert collected his thoughts. This was the one question he’d rehearsed the most, and a careless reply could ruin his chances to woo Janet forever. True, at the time Cameron had continually interrupted him, but calling the man out would only serve to deepen their ill will.
“Even then I had planned to ask you for Janet’s hand. Had I been able to convince you to come inside Moriston Hall, I would have professed as much. However, I am the first to admit that I let you take her away from me too easily. In the interest of avoiding a battle, and to keep Miss Janet from harm, I made a decision I have regretted to this day whilst I watched you take away the only woman I have ever loved.”
“Hmm. Love. It is such an unwieldy emotion. One that grips men by the cods and turns them into simpering fools.”
“I do not think I am being foolish, sir.”
“Och, Grant, you are sitting across from your greatest adversary, in his lair, and you are wearing no weapons. In my eyes, that is the act of a foolish man—a man who would allow the woman he loves to ride away with her father simply to avoid a wee scuffle.”
Saying nothing, Robert pursed his lips.
“Nonetheless.” Lochiel sat back and tapped his fingers together. “My daughter is quite taken with you.”
“She is an astounding young woman. I am honored to have her affection.”
He smirked. “Did you ken my wife’s mother was a Gordon? She thinks highly of you Grants as well…and now you’ve even tainted my firstborn son into thinking you’re some sort of saint.”
Pulling on his collar, Robert stretched his neck. “I assure you, I am a man just like any other.”
“Oh, are you? Ye ken I was fast enemies with your father. I was there when he set fire to the rooftops of my crofters’ cottages. I listened to women scream and bairns cry. You are arrogant, self-serving, combative, and ornery—”
“I’ve bloody heard enough.” Robert pushed his chair back and stood. Towering over the knight, he jammed his knuckles into the table. “I love your daughter like I love the air I breathe, like I love the Highlands, my home, and the heather when it turns the mountains purple in late summer. But I have never cared a lick about you because I ken ye wouldn’t think twice about setting my lands to fire and sword. You’ve done it afore—just as you accuse my father of doing. I ken your every evil deed. You may have stolen my cattle as well, but I’m prepared to forget and forgive, especially now I’ve killed the culprit who culled both our herds last year—”
Lochiel unsheathed his dirk and held it aloft. “You, sir, are—”
“I am not bloody finished is what I am!” Robert didn’t care about the knife in his face. Besides, he was younger, bigger, and stronger than the knight across the board. “I will give your daughter a good home. I will put her on a pedestal and worship the very ground she walks each and every day for the rest of our time on this earth. And aye, I’m willing to resolve my differences with you for that privilege, but I will not sit idle and allow you to tread upon my honor as if I am nothing but a tinker thief.” Breathing deeply, Robert glared across the table, refusing to blink, demanding respect.
After a seemingly infinite pause, Sir Ewen glanced away. “If I do not approve this union, my daughter will never speak to me again. My wife, who has just given me another son, will send me to the dogs. Christ, I will even be seen as weak in my own heir’s eyes.” He reached for a document and slid it across the desk. “I will approve this marriage. You will sign an agreement that no Grant clansmen will ever act out against Cameron of Lochiel, and in turn, I will grant to you my daughter’s dowry of twenty thousand pounds.”
Robert didn’t budge. “And Cameron men will adhere to the same truce?”
“Aye.”
Robert blinked. Had he heard right? The sum Lochiel quoted was a fortune. And yet he would pay that same sum just to marry his love. Rather than ask again, he scanned the parchment before him. Indeed, the lass’s dowry was twenty thousand pounds. With a sure hand, he picked up the quill and dipped it into the ink. “I sign this with joy in my heart. May the union between our clans endure throughout the ages. And may we march side by side when the time of the succession is upon us.”
Lochiel held out his hand. “I never thought I’d say this, but you have spirit, lad. Perhaps my daughter has chosen well. Nonetheless, if I ever hear of any mistreatment on your part, you will answer to me.”
“I assure you…” Robert grinned. “There is no need to concern yourself with that, sir.”