Page 67 of A Rogue in Firelight

“The business with your brother William.”

“Aye. We do not know what Darrach preferred. He was not married, and might have left some to William, but both are gone and we may never know.”

“No one has come forward in all this time, so there are no claimants so far. The court might have sent it to Sir John MacGregor as a clan matter, but his death delayed that. So it will go to your cousin Sir Evan, as clan chief, to decide.”

“The courts will be glad to be quit of it.”

“The land and title could still come to you.”

“Evan may be disinclined to choose a man accused of criminal activity.” He knew Evan MacGregor well, though they had kept their distance over the last few years.

“But now that you are free and clear, according to the documents I saw, you could write to Sir Evan to inquire. I hear he will be in Edinburgh soon for the festivities. You could meet with him there to discuss it.”

“I doubt he would welcome seeing me.”

“Surely time has softened that old matter?”

Ronan shrugged in silence, feeling the old hurt surface. The rift was strong between him and his cousin following the events after the battle that had wounded both of them.

Hugh sighed. “Aye, well. You should know he has agreed to lead the Highland contingent in Edinburgh during the royal visit. Sir Walter Scott and the Lord Provost wanted to honor him as a war hero admired by many.”

“They could not find a better representative of Highland dignity than Evan Murray-MacGregor. He will assemble an impressive tail of chieftains in full regalia.”

“He will, as will the other clan chiefs in attendance. They will muster men, horses, weapons, plaids and all to roll out a great showing of Highland clans. They say all of this may even cause a shortage of tartan cloth, with thousands eager to show Scotland at its finest. We may never see its like again. A great celebration of Scottishness.”

Ronan nodded. Reluctant to be part of a ruse in meeting the king, he yet felt a strong pride within about being Highland and Scottish. He wanted to witness the spectacle, feel the swell of Scottish strength borne on this wave of royal excitement. But he would rather avoid any debacle.

“I will write to Sir Evan to let him know you are free, since he is aware of the arrest as chief of your clan. As for the charges, which I am certain were unfairly assigned to all three of you, Smithson and I can make some headway.”

“The charges were unclear and remain so. It is to our advantage.”

“True. Ronan,” said Hugh, giving him a severe glance, “would you be willing to speak frankly about your situation if this comes to trial?”

“About William and Darrach? I will not expose them. Let them rest in peace.”

“Your stubbornness is only to your detriment.”

“We agreed to hold back the full truth, short of hanging. I will not dishonor my brother and my cousin.”

“To your peril, you are an honorable man.”

“Huh. If you have word on the other matters, you can send a message to Strathniven House for now. But in Edinburgh,” he said, “send word either to Lady Strathniven in town or Miss Ellison Graham at her father’s home. Only those two. There are few I can trust.”

“The deputy lord provost’s daughter? I did not realize you knew the Grahams, or Lady Strathniven either.”

“We met only recently. Both have shown me kindness and discretion.”

“Do they know your history?”

“Not entirely.”

“I see. What is this business to do with the king? You mentioned something.”

Ronan huffed. “King George is so fond of Glenbrae whisky that he wants to meet the distiller.”

Hugh chuckled. “No wonder Sir Hector found a way to release you. Save face, clean up the prisoner, is that it?”

“Exactly. Once I am presentable, I will be introduced at the royal levee.”