Page 47 of The Shadow of a Laird
“I am taking back my castle tonight,” he went on. “As we speak, my loyal men, and those of Laird Jamieson, are imprisoning those who turned against me, and unless you would like to suffer the same fate I suggest you listen, and listen well.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I know what you think of me, and quite frankly I understand why you thought that way, but that was the man I used to be, not the man I am now.” He opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted at once.
“And why should we believe you?” Another man spoke up, his words loaded with derision. “You treated your people and your friends like dirt. You put our clan in danger by ignoring the wishes of the tenants and antagonising all our neighbours. Who will help us in our time of need now? We have no allies—you have chased them all away. You are not worthy to be our Laird.”
He almost spat out the last words and Gavin felt like throttling him. He restrained himself, however, and clenched his fists under the table while he took some deep, calming breaths.
Then he did the last thing the men around the table had expected; he smiled. “Now, you all turned my soldiers against me, and they tried to murder me. In fact, for a long time you all thought I was dead.” He looked around the table again. “You are all traitors, are you not?”
“Of course we are not!” A small dark man exploded. “You are the traitor—you betrayed your people.” He stabbed a finger at Gavin.
Gavin smiled again and shook his head, then his genial expression was replaced by a fierce scowl. “I could have you all executed, but I won’t because I think there is a better way to solve this problem if you will all work with me. You will not be let off the hook completely—not for a while, anyway. Each of you will have a guard looking after youevery minute of every day, but I think it is a better option than the noose.”
At the mention of a possible death by hanging, a flash of fear appeared on every face around the table. They became masks of terror as the noise of booted feet and men’s voices could be heard, becoming louder and louder as they came closer, until suddenly a dozen heavily armed guardsmen in Jamieson livery burst into the room. Each one moved to stand behind a seated clan rebel, swords drawn.
A moment later, the tall, dignified figure of Laird Jamieson stepped inside. He was an intimidating figure in his own right as his piercing dark eyes swept around the chamber, missing nothing. He moved to stand beside Gavin and the two men shook hands.
Gavin smiled at him and said, “Ah, Laird Jamieson.” Then he turned to the men at the table. “Meet our new ally, gentlemen. This is Laird Jamieson, although I am sure most of you already know him.”
20
“Good morning, gentlemen,” the Laird said, with a smile that was both polite and threatening. “As Laird Forsyth says, he believes there is a better way to deal with you than the scaffold. I differ with him on that because if the matter was in my hands, you would all be dead already.
However, Laird Forsyth is a better and more merciful man than I am. He has learned from his mistakes and wishes to work with you, and I commend him for that. If you disagree, then I am sure he can find some comfortableaccommodation for you in the dungeons next to your friends. Moreover, as Laird Forsyth has told you, I am the Forsyth Clan’s ally. This has been sealed with a blood oath and the betrothal of my daughter to Laird Forsyth, in the name of Gavin’s father. So you see, in the future, an attack on him is an attack on me, and vice versa.” He let the words sink in.
One of the men at the table, whom Gavin recognised as his second cousin, Roy MacAlpine, howled with laughter. “You are jesting, Laird Jamieson,” he said scornfully. “I would rather die for my clan than accept this arrogant idiot as my Laird!”
“Die?” Gavin countered furiously. Then he smiled with dark glee. “Well, Roy, that can easily be arranged.” He stood up, and as his stature and height, as well as his sheer presence, filled the room, he saw the defiance vanish from the faces of his rebel clansmen.
Gavin moved around the table and twisted Roy’s head around so that he was facing him, then he said, in a voice that throbbed with menace, “I can take over this castle any time I wish, and please do not forget it.”
He was confident, assured, and at that moment, absolutely terrifying. His green gaze swept over every one of them, and they all seemed to shrink. Laird Jamieson moved to his side, and the two men, with the authority of their rank as well as Gavin’s sheer size, were intimidating in the extreme.
Archie Carmichael and some faithful Forsyth guards came in, and although the room was spacious, there were so many men that they were standing shoulder to shoulder.
Archie saluted both Lairds. “Need me for anythin’ M’Lairds?” he asked.
Gavin indicated the shivering men around the table. “Take them back to their rooms and put a guard at each of their doors. We will decide what to do with them later.”
Archie began to organise the withdrawal of the men in his usual methodical fashion, and Gavin felt an enormous sense of pride in him. Archie had fought for him and stayed by his side through thick and thin, and he was determined to find some way of rewarding him.
Gavin turned to Laird Jamieson and smiled. “Thank you, my Laird.”
The other man nodded. “I hope your whisky is worthy of the occasion,” he remarked, his eyes twinkling. “Because I only drink the best, and don’t forget that my men will be expecting a hearty breakfast. I hope there is plenty of bacon on hand.”
“I only keep the best,” Gavin replied, laughing. “And I only share it with people whom I hold in high esteem. If there is no bacon, I will send my servants to buy some in the village. Nothing is too good for you and your men, my Laird.”
“You certainly know how to flatter,” Laird Jamieson said dryly, laughing.
“All hail your one and only Laird, Gavin Forsyth,” loud voices and praise were heard all over, bringing a smile to Gavin’s face. This time he would do it right.
Elspeth was bored. She had been brought to Duncairn Castle a fortnight before in order to be introduced to the staff, find her way around the honeycomb of passages on the inside of the castle, and prepare for the wedding. However, she rarely saw her fiancé anymore. If she were lucky, they would dine together in the evening, but he was usually exhausted. Once, he had almost fallen asleep over his soup!
Their evenings, which had been so cosy and amiable at Ardneuk, were much less so in Duncairn, since Gavin’s mind seemed to constantly be on other things. When they played chess or cards, he usually lost because he could not concentrate. Playing against a partner who was not there was not a contest at all; she might as well have been playing by herself.
One brisk, sunny Sunday morning when they were leaving church, Elspeth suggested that they should take a ride down to the shores of the loch. It was still not safe to bathe in or drink from, but it was very picturesque, and she suggested a picnic.
“We really must make some plans for the wedding,” she told him. “I have met all the staff, found my way around the castle and have had myself measured for my wedding dress. I am doingmy part to get ready, but you are doing nothing, Gavin. Indeed, I hardly see you these days.”
Gavin looked down into her dark eyes and felt ashamed. He had everything he could possibly want in life; wealth, health, comfort, enough to eat and a roof over his head, his estate back and his tenants happy and prospering. Yet here was the beautiful, generous woman with whom he had promised to share his life asking the date of their wedding, and he was postponing the day when he would marry her as if it were a death sentence. He was not worthy of her.
