Page 28

“ Y e and I have naught to speak about, Darragh,” Campbell spat, moving to his wife’s side. “I warned ye never to step foot in me lands or castle ever again. Do ye have nay care for yer life?”

Blood lust simmered in his blood as he tried but failed to push out the images of the bastard raising his hand to his wife.

It was as though a barrel of hate had finally burst inside him. He turned to the boys, eyeing the red print on Ollie’s cheeks.

Had his grandfather hit Ollie?

“We have much to discuss,” Darragh insisted, glaring at Mabel, who looked as murderous as Campbell felt. “And I willnae leave until I am through.”

“Are ye certain?” Mabel asked, stepping forward.

Campbell had to put a hand on her arm to stop her from stepping into harm’s way. While he would love nothing but to have a proper excuse to be rid of the man, he would rather not have it at her expense.

Still, he had never seen her so angry, and while it stirred his desire for her, it set off his anger as well. Darragh had crossed a line that he would never be able to return from, even if he begged for forgiveness.

He had trespassed into his home, hurt and threatened his family, and men had been executed for less.

“Keep yer wife in her place, Campbell,” Darragh snarled. “Ye should discipline her for her disrespect.”

Blood roared in Campbell’s ears at those words, but he did not want to lose his temper in front of his wife and the boys.

He did not want them to see the side of him that he only showed to enemies. He already felt the headiness of bloodlust coursing through him, and it would not take much for him to snap and wring the man’s neck.

“I thought me warning was well understood, Darragh,” he said calmly, despite his rage. “Ye werenae to come near me clan again.”

“I had good reason to,” Darragh stated stubbornly. “Yer wife is a disgrace to the title ye have given her, but nay matter. Ye can still?—”

“Take the boys to their chambers, wife,” Campbell interrupted, turning to Mabel, who looked up at him in surprise. “I will take care of this.”

“Husband, I?—”

“Dinnae worry,” he pressed. “He willnae hurt ye or the boys ever again.”

She looked into his eyes, as though searching for reassurance, but after a moment, she nodded and squeezed his arm softly, before turning to the boys.

He felt some of his ire dissipate as he watched her retreat with the boys and regretted that he had not returned much earlier to spare them the displeasure of his grandfather’s company.

He had ridden off to the hunt the night before in the hope of refilling the larder, as it had depleted during the cèilidh, and had thought they would be safe. But now, he knew better.

He should have known that Darragh would not let up and that his visit would not be a one-time occurrence. But now, he would ensure it never happened again.

“Ye would disrespect me for this ill-mannered vixen, Campbell?” Darragh spat.

“Ye have refused to do yer duty despite me many reminders. When will ye produce heirs? Ye do ken it cements yer position as the Laird, do ye? If anything were to befall ye, who would ye leave to care for yer clan? Ye cannae consider Aidan’s boys.

They are of low birth and ill-bred. They arenae fit to be yer heirs. ”

Campbell heard his wife’s sharp intake of breath and turned to her.

“Leave now, wife,” he urged. “See to the bairns. I will join ye shortly.”

“Even yer faither, weak as he was, produced heirs. Ye should follow in his footsteps and produce heirs of yer own. Ye must?—”

The words died in the man’s throat as Campbell grabbed him by the collar. Now that Mabel and the boys were gone, he did not need to hold back his rage.

“How dare ye treat me this way?” Darragh spluttered, struggling to free himself, but Campbell’s grip was too strong.

“All for a woman of nay consequence. I ken she is MacLennan’s daughter.

Ye aligned yerself with another weak clan just like yer maither did, marrying yer faither. Have ye nae learned from her mistakes?”

“Ye willnae speak of me faither ever again if ye wish to leave the castle unharmed,” Campbell threatened. “I dinnae jest when I make this warning, Darragh. I crave the sight of yer blood for yer insult to me wife. Choose yer next words wisely, or I will see it done.”

Darragh had pushed him to the point where he was seeing red, but mentioning his father had been the final straw. Campbell might not have liked how weak his father had been, but it was the man before him who had torn their family apart and stolen his father’s humanity.

His father had been a grief-stricken shell of himself and took out his anger on him. Campbell had suffered because of his grandfather’s selfishness, and he would be damned before he let the man who had done nothing but destroy the lives of those around him dig his claws into his nephews.

“Ye cannae think mere threats will stop me from telling ye the truth ye need to hear, Campbell,” Darragh went on stubbornly.

Campbell tightened his grip on the man’s collar till a red hue spread across his cheeks, yet the man’s jaw was set.

His grandfather was a stubborn bastard till the end.

Oh, how easy it would be to end his miserable existence. With just a snap of his wrists, Campbell could end the man who had caused so much pain.

“I only wish to remind ye to do yer duty and produce heirs,” Darragh said. “Ye should?—”

“I will do nothing,” Campbell cut in. “I have me heirs already and need nay more children.”

“Ye mean to say that ye will use those unworthy bairns. Ye cannae…”

Suddenly, realization dawned on Campbell.

He did not know how he hadn’t seen it before. His grandfather was the one who sent the assailant to the boys’ chambers. He wanted the boys away from him so he would be forced to produce heirs.

“I have decided, and ‘tis final,” Campbell gritted out. “I ken what ye tried to do. I ken ye sent the assailant after the boys, but I willnae let ye have yer way.”

Darragh didn’t have the gall to look sorry for what he had done. Instead, he looked murderous, but he sagged into Campbell’s hands, defeated.

It was good that he finally understood he had no say in his future, but that still didn’t mean the battle was won.

Campbell knew the man wouldn’t rest until he had his way, but for today, he would take his victory.

“Ye hurt me boys and tried to hurt me wife, Darragh, and those are unforgivable offenses. I should end yer miserable life where ye stand, but ye are kin. For me maither’s sake, I will spare ye,” he spat, before releasing his grandfather.

“I willnae show such mercy if I see yer face anywhere in Muir lands again. Magnus!”

“Aye, Me Laird,” his man-at-arms answered, coming to his side.

“See to it that this man is escorted off me lands and ensure that he disappears into the horizon before ye return, or ye will receive his punishment.”

“Aye, Me Laird.”

Magnus and a few guards moved to do as Campbell commanded, and it was not until the doors to the hall swung shut that he let out the breath he had been holding.

His mind immediately went to his wife and the boys. Anger was still coursing through his veins, but he pushed it down. He needed to make sure that they weren’t hurt by the ordeal they had just endured.

“Uncle Campbell!” the boys cried, rushing to hug his legs when he entered their chambers. “Are ye well?”

“Aye, lads,” he said, smiling down at them.

His heart clenched at that moment. Innocent children had been in danger and had been hurt by one man’s darkness, and he had failed to prevent it again.

The realization weighed heavily on him, but he pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the boys. He held them tightly, lifting them so he could look at Mabel, who had a small smile on her face.

“Are ye well?” he asked.

“Aye,” she answered. “I am glad ye are home.”

Home.

The word made butterflies flutter in his stomach. In truth, he had ridden back to the castle earlier than planned because he wanted to return home.

These three were the reason he had wanted to return quickly to the castle, and he was glad for it.

If he had delayed his return…

He didn’t want to imagine what could have happened.

Darragh would have bled if he had hit his wife.

“I am sorry for what ye have endured today,” he sighed.

“‘Tis nae yer fault, Uncle Campbell,” Ollie said stubbornly. “That man was evil. I wish I had a sword with me.”

Campbell laughed softly, only to earn a frown.

“I ken ye’re a brave lad, but he would have hurt ye,” he cautioned. “And ‘tis nae yer place to protect the castle; ‘tis mine. I will protect ye going forward.”

“Will he nae return?” Connor asked softly.

“Nay,” Campbell answered, feeling his anger return at the tremor in the boy’s voice. “I willnae let him.”

Connor nodded and rested his head on his shoulder.

The mood turned somber, but Campbell didn’t want his grandfather’s dark stain hovering over them.

It wasn’t safe to head outside just yet, so he thought up another way that would help them forget the day’s ordeal.

“Shall we go to the library?” he suggested. “I believe there are a few stories I can read to ye. Do ye like knights and princes?”

“Aye,” the boys chorused. “Will ye tell us about King Arthur and Merlin?”

“Aye. I believe I have a book I can read to ye.”

They squealed in excitement, and he turned to his wife with a look.

“Shall we go, wife?”