Page 64 of Highland Renegade
“I am guessing this has something to do with the dragoons?” he asked after he’d closed the door.
“Aye,” Broderick answered. “Devon rode over to the distillery this morning to tell us what he’d learned.”
Ian wasn’t surprised. His uncles hadn’t been around for the last few days, since the grain was at the fermentation stage and needed to be watched closely in order to know when to separate the wash and start distilling it. They’d basically been sleeping in the office of the distillery so they could keep checking.
“’Tis likely Henry Campbell is hatching something with his brother the duke,” Donovan said, “else why would the dragoons have gone in separate directions?”
“And leave so soon after arriving at Inveraray?” Broderick added.
“I agree with ye,” Ian said, “but we doona ken why.”
Devon snorted. “The Campbells doona want us to have our name back.”
“We doona ken that for certain.”
“Nae, but Argyll spends more time in London than he does at Inveraray or Kilchurn. He tends to side with the English more than the Scots.” Broderick looked at each of them. “And the Countess of Woodhaven is English. What if she’s in cahoots with him?”
Ian grimaced. If only he could tell them what he knew. That her situation was as dire as theirs, but he was pretty sure the irony of that would be lost on his uncles and certainly on Devon. Besides, it was not his story to tell. “Lady Woodhaven has never given any indication that she’s acquainted with the Campbells,” he said. “In fact, Gavin Campbell was expecting an elderly dowager the day he came here.”
“She did say she’d met the Earl of Bute, though,” Devon said.
“Aye and that ’tis the reason we came over,” Donovan said. “If she mentions that to Henry or even the duke, if he’s at the ball, she could easily say she’d prefer the earl nae petition Parliament this fall. Argyll would listen to an English countess’s opinion.”
“Even worse, ’tis possible Bute himself might be at the ball. The dragoons rode in that direction.” Devon narrowed his eyes. “She could put the word in his ear directly.”
After what she’d told him, Ian doubted very much that she would. “The countess could have put us all out if she’d had a mind to when she first arrived, but she didna.” He grew thoughtful. “Since shehasmet Lord Bute, mayhap she could even put a word in his ear to encourage the petition.”
Devon gave him an arched look. For a moment, he wondered if his brother was going to bring up the kissing in the folly. Ian was fairly sure he hadn’t told their uncles or one of them would have mentioned it. He met his brother’s gaze steadily until Devon finally looked away.
“When she arrived, she needed us,” Broderick said. “Ye said yourself she had questions on everything, and Donovan and I can testify to her getting involved in the distillery, even though we dinna want her to.”
“And we’ve already discussed that she will be bringing in more profit.” Ian tried to keep the testiness out of his voice. “We doona need to keep hammering at it.”
“Aye, the woman is smart and sly,” Donovan said. “Much like Isobel was.”
“And ye ken how that turned out,” Broderick added. “She made a fool of all of us…” He paused, then shrugged. “Well, for certain, your father.”
“Lady Woodhaven isnothinglike Isobel.” Ian didn’t bother to keep the edge off his voice. “And I willna have ye comparing her to that bitch.”
Broderick frowned, Devon lifted his eyebrow again, and Donovan gave him a long look before he nodded.
“Aye, I suppose ye are right,” his uncle said, “but it would still be wise that she nae attend the ball, just to make sure she doesn’t put a word in Campbell’s ear, instead of Lord Bute’s.”
He didn’t want Emily attending the ball, either, but for entirely different reasons. The Campbells had been busy with their own harvesting, and Gavin had not returned to call on Emily, but Ian hadn’t forgotten the sly insinuation that he might want to pay court. If he had his way, he would keep them miles apart. He sighed.
“Unfortunately, the invitation has already been issued. ’Tis nae we can do to prevent the countess from going.”
Devon lifted a corner of his mouth in a slight smirk. “Then ye will have to keep a close eye on her, won’t ye?”
He wasn’t sure if his brother was being sarcastic or reminding him about what he’d witnessed. It didn’t really matter, because Ian intended to keep a very close eye on Emily at the Campbell ball.
…
“I think dinner went surprisingly well,” Emily said as she and her sisters retired to the solar after the evening meal. She sighed as she sank into one of the comfortable, stuffed armchairs. The room had been built to let in the sunlight during the day and the walls, accordingly, were papered in gold damask with trailing vines to give the impression of being outdoors. She’d found, though, that pulling the green velvet drapes at night and having the brazier lit gave the room a warm, cozy feel, more like she was deep within a forest with the sun’s rays setting. The room made an excellent place to retreat from the men—and servants—in the castle as well.
“Yes!” Lorelei clapped her hands excitedly. “And we are definitely going to the ball at Kilchurn!”
Juliana rolled her eyes and Emily almost joined her. That admission had been made without much enthusiasm from Ian after Lorelei had brought up the subject. Again. His uncles and his brothers—save for Alasdair, who seemed amused—had given her disdainful looks. She’d wanted to remind them that Lorelei was young…just six and ten, but doing so would only reinforce their opinions that Englishwomen were shallow.
