Page 67 of Highland Fire

“Yes. Your uncle thought, as everyone did, that the Daroch line of Gordons had died out. The present laird, Fiona’s Daroch, didn’t count.

He was a stepson. Then Grant came into Deeside, and your uncle realized that there was one Gordon of Daroch remaining.

You. I don’t think that is what enraged him so much as the thought that the Randal blood was tainted and would remain so for all future generations unless he put a stop to it. ”

“Did Grant know I was Daroch’s daughter? My uncle said something—”

“He must have suspected it. It was in his mind, I believe, to tell you so; then he decided against it.”

“What changed his mind?”

“From what his son told me, it was our marriage that decided him against saying anything.

Grant felt that Providence had worked things out remarkably well, and that to intervene might do more harm than good.

My own feeling is that he was more than happy to leave well enough alone.

You must remember, he was the man who had killed your father.

No, I should not think Grant was eager to have the past raked over unless it was absolutely necessary.

“After the attack on you, he was suspicious. What he ought to have done was take his son into his confidence. He didn’t do so because, as he told me, he had acted once before on hearsay and speculation, and he did not wish to call a man’s integrity into question unless he had something to go on.”

She shivered, and his arms tightened about her. “Cold?”

She shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s…

oh, I can’t explain it. Clans and feuds, and I don’t know what all.

They have left a terrible mark on the Highlands.

When I think of my mother…” Her voice broke and she took a moment to come to herself.

“I think she really believed Daroch had betrayed her, that the duel was over another woman, someone he was taking up with.”

“Yes. And from what I have heard of your mother, her pride must have been crushed. She would not want anyone to know she had made a fool of herself over a man who cared so little for her.”

“And all these years she misjudged him!” Caitlin cried out passionately.

“I’m afraid so. Don’t be too hard on her. Your uncle was at some pains to ensure that everyone misjudged the Gordons of Daroch.”

“And my grandfather! For the first time, I really begin to understand why my mother left the big house and moved to the shieling. She dared not confess that Daroch was the father of her babe. You know, at the end, when she was dying, I thought she would tell me my father’s name.

Even then she could not bring herself to do it!

She was so ashamed! She truly believed all the tales my grandfather and uncle spouted.

I tell you, I could weep for that poor girl. ”

Rand brought her face up and kissed her swiftly. “Don’t let the past make you bitter.”

“Oh, I won’t!” she answered passionately.

“I may have done so once, but never again. I thought I was born out of wedlock, and it blighted my life. Now, it seems likely that Daroch did not deceive my mother, that he really did mean to honor their secret marriage. We shall never know. And do you know what?”

“What?” asked Rand softly.

“It doesn’t matter one whit to me. I’m not going to be like my uncle.

I’m not going to allow the past to rob me of living life fully and richly.

I’m going to…” Her breath came out in a rush, and she turned into Rand’s chest and wept bitterly.

“I feel heart sorry for him, do you know? It was such a waste of a life! He never married, never thought of such a thing. He was only a shadow of the man he might have been.”

When the bout of weeping had run its course, she lay quietly in his arms. Eventually, shifting slightly, she said, “There is still so much I can’t quite grasp.”

“That is because you have not had the time to reflect on it.”

“And you have?”

“Oh yes. I’ve been reflecting on things since someone took a shot at you. And when I learned that Haughton was Grant, and that he had met with an untimely end, everything began to fall into place.”

She glanced briefly up at him. “Poor Mr. Grant! It would have been better for him if his sister had not confessed to her iniquitous conduct. Then he would never have come into Scotland, and he would be alive today.”

Rand shook his head. “Not so,” he said. “Did I not tell you that David went to see him? It was David who set this chain of events in motion.”

“How did he do that?”

“It’s my guess that he told Grant you thought he was your father. I think that’s when Grant began to put two and two together.”

“But…I never asked David to try to discover who my father was. At least…” She looked at him with huge stricken eyes.

“Not in so many words, I didn’t. I told him I didn’t care who my father was, but he must have known that deep down, I did care.

He saw things that no one else could see.

How I wish he had left well enough alone! I blame myself for—”

“Don’t!”

She recoiled and he instantly softened his tone.

“You must accept that these things happen. I’m inclined to believe, in this case, it was inevitable.

If David had not set events in motion, then I would have done so.

Almost from the first, I have had the feeling that I have been following in David’s footsteps.

Caitlin, this was meant to be. A great wrong has been righted.

There is a certain justice in all of this. You must believe that.”

“The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small?” she quoted.

“Where did you hear that?”

“It’s something my mother used to say.”

“She was right.”

There was a shout from within the quarry, then another. Some time was to pass before Peter appeared. “We’ve found him,” he said. “Caitlin, I’m so sorry. His neck is broken.”

Donald Randal was brought home to Glenshiel House in one of Rand’s carriages. It was Peter who was sent to fetch it. He returned with Serle and the intelligence that Daroch’s dogs had been called off and Bocain stood in no danger.

If Serle was surprised at Caitlin’s reception, he gave no indication of it. Smiling, crying, she kissed him on his thin cheeks and told him repeatedly how happy she was to see him and how well he looked. Her dog’s reception of Rand’s factor was no less warm. Rand stood by, smiling, yet very grave.

While Rand’s brothers and Serle waited with the carriage in the old stable block, Rand, Caitlin, and Bocain climbed the stairs to Glenshiel’s chamber.

Bocain was ill at ease with some scent she caught in the air, but by this time she seemed to recognize that the threat to Caitlin had been removed.

On her mistress’s command, she settled herself outside the door, ignoring the starts and stares of servants who took one look and hurried away.

Inside the chamber, they found Dr. Innes, with his patient, and Charlotte Randal standing nearby, wringing her hands. As they entered, Innes looked up.

“I’m glad ye are here,” he said simply and without emphasis. “He has been asking for ye and Mr. Randal.”

Charlotte Randal was not so reserved. Her bosom was heaving and her breath came in sobs and starts.

“He has been like a man demented. Dr. Innes tried to administer laudanum to help him settle, but he refused to swallow it. Caitlin, where have you been? We sent everywhere for you. You seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth.”

At this point, she was beginning to take in her niece’s appearance—the tumbled hair, the filthy and torn garments, the tear-streaked face. She opened her mouth to make some comment, but Caitlin quickly pushed past her to cross to the bed.

She seized the gnarled hand that lifted toward her. “I’m here, Grandfather,” she said, and brought his hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to it.

The wild look in Glenshiel’s eyes gradually abated. His breathing became easier. For a long time he simply looked at Caitlin, as if he wished to memorize every dear feature, every hair on her head. Finally his eyes lifted to Rand.

Responding to the ardent question in those wise eyes, Rand said gravely, “I’m afraid there has been a terrible accident, sir. Your brother—”

“Rand, no!” Caitlin cried out.

His hand closed around her shoulder. “Don’t you see, he already knows? We must tell him the whole of it, or there will be no peace for him.”

“But…”

Dr. Innes’s look silenced Caitlin. “He knows or senses that something is amiss. Your husband is right, Lady Randal. There will be no peace for him if he thinks ye are concealing something from him.”

When Rand was satisfied that Caitlin’s objections had been answered, he inhaled a long breath.

“It was like this, Sir Alexander,” he said.

“Caitlin and your brother went out looking for the dog. They thought they knew where she was to be found—the old quarry. I think you know the place? They became separated when the mist came down. Donald Randal lost his footing and fell to his death. He died instantly.”

Charlotte Randal began to sob uncontrollably into her hands. Rand’s eyes never left Glenshiel’s. The old man blinked and seemed to shrink into the bedclothes. His jaw worked spasmodically, and Rand had to bend over to catch his words.

“It…it is…for…the best,” said Glenshiel.

During the night, Rand called Caitlin and Fiona to their grandfather’s bedside. Not long after, Glenshiel slipped away.