Page 45 of Her Highlander’s Darkest Temptation (Highlanders of Cadney #14)
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“ T radin’ routes? Clan Cameron’s on our doorstep threatenin’ war because o’ ye, lass, an’ ye think we ought tae be concerned with trade routes?”
Lydia stiffened under Elder MacEvoney’s brusque words.
Donall frowned. On the surface of it, he understood Elder MacEvoney’s dismissal of Lydia’s words. The questions she’d raised, regarding the passing of caravans close to disputed borders seemed of little import. However…
“Och, just a moment. The lass may have a point.” Ewan spoke up first. “I recall when we went out tae scout fer others o’ the caravan, there were signs it had been turned toward Cameron borders. At the time, we thought it happenstance, but if it wasnae…”
Alex nodded. “Speakin’ from experience… people tell traders an’ tinkerers, merchants an’ wanderers, things they wouldnae necessarily speak o’ tae others. Fer example, yer steward put it about that Clan Ranald needed new blood in the servin’ quarters, aye?”
“Aye. An’ what o’ it?” Elder McKennah scowled at the other laird. Alex met his glare calmly.
“If such were passed tae Clan Cameron, they might think yer clan is weakened. That there’s nae enough clanfolk tae tend tae hearth, field, and keep alike.”
“And travelin’ folk could learn much about the state o’ patrols, escorts through clan lands, the conditions o’ villages an’ inns along the way, an’ how much o’ a presence the Laird Ranald maintains in a given area - how many warriors, how often the laird himself might visit, what sort o’ official protection is offered… ”
Donall felt a sick feeling crawl through his gut. A caravan would know where to stop… and thus where the best places for ambushes were.
A traveling tinkerer or trader might know how many men held a watch tower, and how well it was maintained. And if that information were making its way over the borders and into Laird Cameron’s hands, then it was little wonder the caravan had been so easily waylaid, and the watchtower burned.
He leaned forward to address Lydia. “Are ye sure o’ what ye saw?”
Lydia blinked, brow furrowing slightly as she considered his words. “I would have to look at a map to be certain, but… I am sure there were at least two safer routes, away from the Cameron border, that our caravan might have taken, whether their destination was Ranald Keep or elsewhere.”
Donall pointed to the map that had been laid over the table. “Show me.”
Lydia pointed. “There's this road, here, and this one, which goes somewhat further south, near the Stewart lands, but…”
“...is safer because the clans along tha’ route are uninvolved with our affairs, or allied with Clan Ranald under ties o’ kith and kin.” Donall finished.
And anyone who traded this route regularly, or spoke with seasoned traders, would have kent that.
Donall’s stomach clenched further.
The meeting descended into arguments, with the Elders debating among themselves. Donall didn’t bother to keep track of everything that was being said. He knew from long experience that much of it would be repetitious, until the Elders had come to some agreement.
Instead, he took Lydia’s hand and drew her to his side. “Is there aught else ye can speak tae us about?”
“Not that I can recall.” Lydia shook her head. “Uncle never allowed me to learn much about his affairs, beyond telling me who he planned to betroth me to at any given time.”
Donall huffed. “More fool he, but even so… ye’re likely tae be bored sittin’ in on the rest o’ this, an’ I suspect they’ll nae be wantin’ tae speak up while ye’re here. The Elders are a suspicious old lot.”
Lydia nodded. “I understand. Should Maisie and I retire?”
“Might be fer the best.” Donall nodded, and waved the two women away.
The meeting ended a little over a candle-mark later, with the Council grudgingly agreeing that Donall’s decision to send a letter to Laird Wycliffe was the best course of action. In the meantime, the guards and scouts would keep close watch on the borders.
Finally, the last of the elders left, leaving Alex, Ewan and Donall himself sitting around the table. As soon as the door closed, Alex slumped down with a groan. “Och, bunch o’ hardheaded old…” He shook his head.
Donall grimaced. “I cannae blame them. Most o’ them dinnae ken Lydia.”
Ewan smirked. “Nae like ye dae?”
Donall blinked. “What are ye…”
Alex snorted. “Donall, me friend, if ye think yer quarters or the library are so well secure as tae keep people from hearin’ ye, then ye’ve nay sense at all.”
Donall growled, the back of his neck heating at the implications. “An’ how much did ye hear?”
“Enough tae ken the lass is more than a servant or a refugee tae ye.” Alex rose and gathered three glasses, and a bottle of scotch. “I’m happy enough fer ye, even if I dae worry about the consequences.”
Donall took the glass Alex offered him with a weary nod. “Ye mean Rory Cameron’s incursion an’ his attempts tae get her back.”
“Nae just that.” Alex shook his head. “There’s a chance that Lord Wycliffe willnae be so understanding o’ his niece choosin’ ye instead o’ the man he intended for her. He may refuse an alliance, or tae allow ye and Lydia tae remain taegether. An’ if ye’re nae willing tae hand her over…”
“I’m nae.” Donall snarled out the words.
“Then ye have tae face the possibility that this will become a political scandal, as well as a feud on two fronts. If Laird Wycliffe considers ye tae have stolen his property rather than courted his niece, then ‘tis likely he’ll come tae claim what he considers his.” Alex’s expression was as solemn as his words.
Ewan nodded. “If she’s nae more than a passin’ fancy…”
Donall almost slammed his glass into the table in denial. “She’s more than that.”
He paused, his throat tight as he considered the thoughts that had hovered around his heart ever since his illness, following the cut he’d taken across the chest. “Lydia… I ken I havenae kent her long. Even so, she makes me feel… alive.”
He stopped, then spoke the words he’d not dared to say aloud, though they’d sounded in his thoughts more than once. “I think… I’ve fallen in love with her… an’ I love her fiercely. I cannae imagine being without her.”
“Then best ye tell the lass an’ the Council that.” Ewan advised. “If ye feel so strongly, dae ye intend tae wed her?”
He hadn’t thought of it, but once Ewan asked the question, he had no uncertainty regarding his answer. “Aye. I wish tae.”
Alex snorted. “Then ye definitely best tell the lass an’ the Council. An’ be prepared tae have a fight on yer hands worthy o’ any battlefield.”
“She’s worth it. An’ I’ve never shirked from a battle.” Donall ground out the words, anger sparking inside him at the idea that anyone might try to take Lydia away from him.
“Aye. But ye’ll be battlin’ Cameron Clan, an’ mayhap the English as well. ‘Tis a precarious position tae be in.” Alex leaned forward. “An’ there’s a good chance ye’ll fight yer Council as well.”
“Aye.” Donall swallowed a large mouthful of his whisky, then set the glass aside. “I’ll fight them with words, an’ with me blade if I have tae.”
Ewan offered a wry grin. “Well, at least ye ken the people o’ Ranald Keep will agree with ye, given the admiration servants and guards alike have shown in more than one occasion fer her kindness, her hard work and help as a healer.”
That was a small consolation - the knowledge that his warriors and guards and people were as protective of his chosen lady as he himself was.
Donall startled when Ewan rose and placed a hand on his shoulder. “If ye love her an’ care fer her so much, then we’ll stand beside ye. Alex an’ I just want ye tae be aware o’ what ye may be facin’ tae keep her. What ye’re riskin’, an’ what ye might stand tae lose.”
His freedom. His lairdship. The support of his Council and his clan.
For a moment, fear hammered in his heart.
Then Donall pushed it ruthlessly to one side.
Even if he had to face another year, or score of years, in the king’s gaol, Lydia was worth the risk.
“’Tis a danger I’m willin’ tae face, fer her. ”
Alex grinned and leaned over to clap him on the shoulder. “Good man. We’ll help ye.”
“Although…” Ewan smirked at him. “Daes the lass ken all o’ that?”
It abruptly occurred to Donall that he hadn’t told Lydia about the letter he’d written and planned to send to Laird Wycliffe. Nor had he expressed his intentions to Lydia, having only just realized them himself.
Donall cursed, then drained his glass and set it down, before rising to his feet. “If ye’ll excuse me, I’ve business tae attend tae.”
He departed the council chamber with Ewan and Alex’s laughter in his ears, and his mind focused on one thing and one thing alone - talking to Lydia. He had to convey the true depth of his feelings for her.