Page 45 of Highlanders for the Holidays
“In principle, aye, but—”
“Nae, nae, nae, nae,” No?l interrupted. “Not in principle. In actual fact.” Now his heart was pounding. This could be his answer. “Exactly why has he not claimed ye? Are ye not his son by blood?”
“I am.”
“Are ye a bastard?”
“Nae.”
“Why then?”
Caimbeul flushed and lowered his gaze.
Ysenda answered for him. “He’s never claimed Caimbeul as his son because he’s a cripple and unfit to rule.”
“But he’s not unfit,” No?l insisted, beginning to pace eagerly now as he considered this new piece of information. “Ye saw him on the field. Not only is he bright and clever, but he can even hold his own with a sword.”
Ysenda and Caimbeul stared at each other. Clearly, the thought of contesting the inheritance had never crossed their minds.
He supposed he could see why. The Highlands were so remote that a clan laird was essentially the ruler of his own domain. The Scottish king might lay down the law of the land. But the laird felt he had the power to bend that law as he saw fit.
In truth, however, laws were a matter of record. No man could alter what was written down by a king to suit his own wants or needs…not even a laird.
“It doesn’t matter whether the laird wishes to claim him or not,” No?l explained. “Caimbeul is his son. As long as he’s fit to rule—and anyone can see he is—by law, Caimbeul is the true heir.”
“So ye’re sayin’ the holdin’ doesn’t rightfully belong to Cathalin,” Caimbeul mused aloud, “no matter who she weds? It belongs to me?”
“Exactly.” No?l crossed his arms over his chest in satisfaction. “Which means—”
“Which means we can all have what we want,” Ysenda gushed. “We can stay married and go to France. Cathalin can wed her Highlander…”
“And I can come to train with your men,” Caimbeul inserted, for fear he might be excluded.
No?l gave him a slow grin. “Aye.”
Caimbeul rubbed his jaw, thinking this over. Then his brow creased. “It doesn’t seem possible. Do ye truly think ‘twill come to pass? My father is very strong-willed. And the Highlands is a long reach for the arm o’ the law.”
“Which is why the king sends men like the Knights o’ de Ware to enforce the law,” No?l said.
“Ye’d do that?”
“Aye, o’ course. Ye’re one of us now.”
“But what about the clan?” he asked. “I don’t want war with the clan.”
“They’re my clan as well,” No?l assured him. “When the time comes, we’ll find a way to keep the peace. Ye’re a clever man. Ye’ll think of somethin’.”
Ysenda’s beautiful silver eyes shone with hope. But there was wisdom and caution in her voice. “‘Twill all have to be kept a secret. If the laird suspects that Caimbeul has a claim to the holdin’...”
She didn’t finish the thought. But they all knew the risk. Laird Gille wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate his heir if Caimbeul proved to be…inconvenient.
“Aye,” No?l said. “’Twill be a secret between the three of us.”
They nodded in solemn agreement.
And then, with a soft cry of victory, Ysenda threw herself into No?l’s arms.
He chuckled with pleasure and held her close.
