Page 19 of Wild Highland Rose (Time After Time #4)

C ameron stood in the doorway, trying desperately to sort out the players. He knew Allen of course, and the man with the tangle of graying hair was clearly Torcall Cameron. But the man who'd almost skewered Fingal was a stranger. As were the other giants standing watch over the old man.

Marjory had rushed to Fingal, her face, blanched of all color, making her eyes seem unusually large. Fingal was brushing her aside, his claymore still drawn, the blood on his arm apparently only a scratch.

Tension in the room was tight enough to sever an artery without a scalpel, and Cameron felt as if he was the unintentional vortex of the whole thing.

Or Ewen Cameron was. He wished desperately that the door—or whatever the hell it had been that had transported him here—would open and send him home, leaving these people and their feud behind.

Except that he didn't like the idea of anyone hurting Marjory.

"Ye know me?" Torcall asked, his words pulling Cameron from his rambling thoughts.

"They said ye dinna remember anything. But ye know me.

" The old man smiled, and despite everything Cameron had heard, he smiled back.

Whatever Torcall Cameron's faults, he clearly loved his son.

Unfortunately, his son was most likely dead.

It was only his body that lived on with someone else in it.

"I don't remember." Cameron shook his head regretfully. "It's just that there's a resemblance. And I assumed you were…my father." He'd been about to say Ewen's father, but corrected himself just in time.

Disappointment washed across Torcall's face, the emotion making him look suddenly older. Cameron immediately wished he could have said something different. Something that wouldn't have taken the light from the old man's eyes.

In contrast, Marjory seemed to be breathing easier, the color returning to her cheeks. He shot her a questioning glance, but she ducked his gaze, fussing instead over Fingal. The other men had relaxed slightly. It seemed his arrival had averted the killing, at least for now.

"Come, let me have a look at ye." Torcall moved closer, his head tilted as he studied what he believed was his son. "Ye shaved yer beard."

Cameron nodded, allowing the older man to trace the side of his cheek with a finger. It was a father's touch, and despite the fact that it wasn't his father, he relished the contact. He'd felt so isolated here.

"I thought she'd killed ye, boy." Torcall's voice turned gruff, and he pulled Cameron into a bear hug.

Across the old man's shoulder, Cameron's eyes locked with Marjory's, her glare indication that she'd heard Torcall's comment. He shook his head slightly, indicating she should keep quiet, but the action only seemed to infuriate her more.

"I did naught to endanger your son, Torcall. If you dinna believe me, ask him yourself." She marched forward, blue eyes shooting sparks.

Torcall released Cameron, stepping back so that he could see them both, his brows raised in question.

Cameron knew this was a test of some sort.

A moment when he had to commit to one side or the other.

Cameron or Macpherson. The warmth of his reunion with his father evaporated.

He had no father. He had nothing. This was all a charade, none of it real.

At least not for him. Still, he held back, both Marjory and Torcall waiting for his answer.

"I dinna think he can say anything for certain, Father," Allen interjected, his eyes knowing, judgmental, as if he'd read Cameron's thoughts.

"He doesna remember falling, and he seems to have forgotten who his enemies are as well.

" He shot a pointed look at Marjory, and then returned his knowing gaze to Cameron.

And for the first time, Cameron found himself wondering where Allen's loyalties lay.

"I remember everything that has happened since then, Allen." If his brother could play rough, so could he. Even without knowing Torcall Cameron, he was fairly certain he'd side with Ewen over Allen, and the events in the wood the previous day could certainly be played to advantage.

Allen obviously recognized his plan, because he dropped his gaze, reaching instead for a cup of ale.

Cameron turned to face Torcall. "I've been treated well here, Father.

As if I were one of the household." It was a bit of an exaggeration.

The lady of the house hadn't exactly welcomed him with open arms, but there had been moments.

He smiled in Marjory's direction, satisfied to see her flinch. A little guilt wouldn't hurt her a bit.

"I'm glad to hear it." Torcall seemed to have missed all the undercurrents running through the room, or perhaps he simply chose to ignore them.

Wrapping his arm around his son, he drew him close again.

"And there's no worries now that I'm here.

I'll make certain," his solemn gaze met first Fingal's then Marjory's, his eyes flashing a warning, "that no harm comes to ye. "

He should have been comforted, but he wasn't. Truth was, he had no idea who to trust. Common sense favored his father, but his instincts told him that he could trust Marjory.

Or maybe he just wanted it to be so. Maybe none of them were to be trusted.Then again, perhaps they shouldn't be trusting him either.

After all he was lying too. His head ached with the enormity of everything that was happening.

"You're no' well." Marjory was instantly by his side, her arm slipping around him, the touch soothing and exciting him all at the same time.

He smiled down at her, grateful for the support.

Torcall frowned at the two of them. "I dinna ken ye'd grown to tolerate each other."

"I'll no' let a man fall, just because he's my enemy's son." Marjory tightened her hold on Cameron in defiance.

"I told ye there's more going on here than we were told." Allen moved closer, his eyes on his father.

"Nay." Torcall waved him away. "I dinna think helping a mon, means anything more than just that. Besides, 'twill be far easier to get the wench with child, if she's no' fighting every inch o' the way."

Marjory released Cameron so suddenly he stumbled. "I'll no' be a brood mare for a Cameron."

"Ye'll do what yer told, girl." Torcall shook a finger in Marjory's direction, and Fingal moved to stand between them, tensions rising again to battle proportion.

"Leave her be." Fingal growled.

"I'm no' afeared of ye, Fingal Macgillivray. Ye know as well as I do that powers higher than either of us demand an heir. 'Tis no' my order, but the Lairds of Clans Cameron and Chattan."

Fingal nodded, accepting the inevitable. Marjory's face had turned red. "I'll have a say in my own life, thank you very much, and I tell you now, I willna spread my legs just because you say so."

Cameron reached out to soothe her, but she shook his arm away, her temper holding sway.

"Dinna threaten me, girl," Torcall barked, "or I'll see that he beds ye tonight, injury or no'."

Marjory clenched her fists and took a menacing step forward. Cameron wanted to hold her back, to try and talk some sense into her, but he knew she'd just push him away. So instead, he shot an imploring look at Fingal, whose pulse was now beating visibly at his temple, his face turned an angry red.

Fingal took a step toward Marjory, intent on intercepting her, but before he could reach her side, a blond woman burst into the room, eyes wide with joy. "Ewen, mo chridhe , 'tis true, yer really alive."

She rushed to his side, her long hair flying.

At first Cameron thought it was the woman from his dream, his heart stopping at the thought, but as she drew nearer he realized the likeness was only superficial.

Still, she was a beautiful woman, and it was more than obvious she cared about Ewen.

Her green eyes sparked as she approached.

Unfortunately, he had no idea who the hell she was.

He shot a quick look at Marjory, hoping for guidance. Instead, he found her narrow-eyed, practically spitting nails. No help from that corner. He wracked his brain for some clue to the woman's identity.

"Aida, was heartbroken to think ye gone, Ewen." Torcall said.

Aida . This was the mistress then. The one Allen had talked about. No wonder Marjory was frowning. With a whirl of petticoats, the girl closed the distance between them, her arms encircling his waist, the scent of lilac clinging to her hair. It was intoxicating. Hell, she was intoxicating.

"I missed ye so much, Ewen." Tears filled her lovely eyes. "And when they said ye were dead, I wished I could follow ye to the grave." Aida smothered his face with tiny kisses, her breath wet and warm on his cheek.

Cameron pulled out of her embrace, more than a little overwhelmed. Given the circumstances, he couldn't exactly blame Ewen for sleeping with the woman. She was a hell of a package. But judging from the look on Marjory's face he also knew how much it had hurt her.

Maybe not because she cared about Ewen. She quite obviously didn't. But because it was an insult of the highest order.

A rejection at a soul deep level, that would tear at a person's pride.

He hated the idea of infidelity. No matter the reasons.

And for a moment, he felt nothing but disgust for the man he was supposed to be.

He knew the pain of broken promises only too well.

A memory flitted through his brain, tantalizing him with truth, but it dissipated before he could understand its true meaning.

With a grimace, he disentangled himself from the blonde, suddenly feeling smothered by her fragrance and her presence.

Oddly enough, he found that he preferred Marjory's smell, crisp and clean.

Hell, he even preferred her acerbic comments to this fluff of a girl, no matter how pretty she was.