Page 55 of Highland Renegade

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“What the bloody hell are the damn dragoons doing on our land?” An hour later, Devon paced back and forth in front of the library’s hearth—at a rate that was making everyone slightly dizzy.

None of the brothers had asked him to stop, and Emily realized movement was probably the way he let out his anger. She remembered that dragoons had captured Devon years before and made a mental note to ask Ian about that later.

“We canna be sure they are coming for us,” Carr said. “Our kinsman said they were marching south from Fort William.”

“And that message was relayed several times,” Alasdair said. “Ye ken how easy it is for one of the riders to put his opinion on it.”

Emily knew well how gossip could start and grow into devastating rumors that had only an element of truth in them. The MacGregors—as well as most of the other clans, from what she’d been told—used a system of relay riders that they kept posted at strategic locations. Fiona had said originally it was to spy on the other clans, but after Culloden, Scots wanted to keep an eye on whatever the English were doing at Forts William, Augustus, and George, since those were the three that controlled Scotland.

“’Tis possible they are replacements for ones on patrol,” Ian said.

Devon snorted. “The last company was replaced just this summer. I tell ye, they are coming for MacGregor lands!”

“Legally, there are no MacGregor lands,” Carr reminded him. “Our kinsmen who hold lands have different surnames—approved by the king—so the Crown canna just take them.”

“Nae?” Devon stopped pacing. “Our grandfather was given ‘approval’ by the damn king to liveon our own landsbecause we dinna fight at Prestonpans…” He leveled a look at Emily. “…and yetshecomes here with the deed to our property—”

“This is nae her fault,” Ian said sharply.

Devon glowered at him. “Damn King George went back on his word.”

Carr sighed. “’Twas his grandfather who granted our grandfather the right—”

“What difference does that make?”

Rory nodded. “Devon is right. It shouldna make a difference.”

Juliana narrowed her eyes and Emily shook her head subtly, hoping her sister would understand and not blurt out something that was going to make this situation even worse. Thankfully, Lorelei noticed and gave her sister a poke.

“If the dragoons carry orders from the Crown, taking away our rights, I will fight it.” Devon looked at each of his brothers. “Even if it means killing.”

“Think, brother,” Carr said “That would mean an end to our hopes of restoring our name when Parliament meets next month.”

“And we doona ken why they are marching,” Alasdair added. “It may have nothing to do with us.”

“Why else would the dragoons be coming?” Devon demanded.

Emily took a deep breath. “I understand how you feel—”

“Do ye?” Devon asked. “Ye are English, a—”

“Enough,” Ian warned.

Devon clenched his fists as he stared at his brother, his anger nearly palpable. Ian stared back. She saw his brothers start to tense, and even his uncles straightened. She hoped the argument wouldn’t lead to a full-out brawl. Evidently, Fiona sensed the tension, too, because she rose swiftly from her chair near the hearth and placed a hand on Devon’s arm.

“The past is over. We must wait and see what they want this time.”

He frowned but didn’t jerk away.

“Fiona is right, Devon,” Carr said. “Ye ken it, too.”

He hesitated, then unclenched his fists. “’Tis hard to—”

“We ken,” Alasdair said, “we ken.”

Emily really needed to find out what had happened to Devon. As horrid as it might have been, she wanted to understand Ian’s brother. Maybe she could offer a bit of reassurance right now.