Page 75 of Highland Renegade
“Hardly in secret, brother,” Carr said. “Neither of them is attempting nae to be seen.”
His brother glowered at him. “Ye ken what I mean. Meeting in the Highlands instead of in London, or even Inveraray, can only bode ill.”
“Mayhap they want only to take each other’s measure before Parliament begins,” Carr answered.
“Ye’ve been sitting in faerie dust, too,” Devon muttered. “Or mayhap the Sassenach has bewitched both of ye.”
Ian drew his brows down. The last thing Emily needed was for a damn rumor to start about witchcraft, for God’s sake. “Ye doona like being suspected of foul play, Devon, so watch what accusation ye make.”
His brother had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed, although he didn’t apologize. “Think of it this way then. She knows the Earl of Bute. She admitted as much. How do we ken she didna send word to him?”
“Now ye are the one bespelled by the Fae,” Ian barely managed to keep his voice level. “How would she have been able to do that?”
“She sent for Everard from White’s Club,” Devon retorted. “’Tis nae that hard to send a missive.”
His other three brothers looked at him. Carr’s and Alasdair’s expressions were impassive, so he couldn’t tell what they were thinking. Rory looked skeptical.
“Lady Woodhaven would have nae cause to do so,” Ian said.
“Nae?” Devon asked. “Mayhap she wants to ken what the bill is going to say so she can decide who to support. Us or the Campbells.”
“Lucifer’s horns!” Ian considered pounding his eejit brothers’ heads together. “Ye make her sound like some conniving mercenary. All Em—Lady Woodhaven wants is a home for herself and her sisters. Can none of ye understand that?”
“’Tis a home she might nae have if the bill goes through Parliament,” Rory said stubbornly.
Ian threw up his hands. “Ye are eejits! Nae more of this talk! We all have eyes and ears. We will see how this plays out. As I said before, ’tis nae use in inviting trouble—”
“Ye need to stop saying that,” Alasdair said mildly, then pointed to the road. “I think the Camerons are coming.”
Ian turned his head and groaned at the sight of a dozen or more men thundering toward them. They might not be wearing their tartans or carrying their standard, but there was no denying their fierce leader or their war cry.
And, from the way some of them swayed in their saddles, they’d been making good use of the whisky in the flasks. Sober, they were barely congenial to MacGregors. Drunk… Well, anything could happen.
Chapter Twenty-One
Emily gazed around the private dining room at Kilchurn Castle. It was nothing like the one at the MacGregors’. Unlike their round table that seated only a dozen or so, this long, polished mahogany table could seat nearly two score, and it was near full this evening.
The Duke of Argyll sat at the head, with the Earl of Bute to his right and his brother Henry to his left. Since they had obviously followed English etiquette, as the dowager Countess of Woodhaven, she was seated above the salt, which put her next to Gavin Campbell. Directly across from her sat the head of Clan Cameron, a man with piercing eyes and steel-gray hair and, apparently, the only member of his regiment, apart from a daughter, who was sober. Thankfully, other than his somewhat-foxed son Neal, who was seated beside him, the others had been relegated to the Great Hall with other visiting clans for the evening meal. Ian’s brothers and uncles had been sent there as well. Ian had been invited to the private chamber, albeit at the far end of the table. Even though the position was not one of prominence, she thought it boded well for the clan’s recognition that he was included.
Hopefully, she would have an opportunity to talk with the earl later, since there had been only flurried greetings earlier.
“I am so glad that you were able to attend.” Gavin leaned slightly toward her. “And I must apologize for not calling on you as I said I would.”
“That is quite understandable,” Emily answered. “I realize how important it is to get the harvest in.”
“There is that,” he agreed, “but I was called away to Inveraray and only just returned two days ago.”
That caught her interest, since Rory had reported the dragoons going there. “It must have been important business to take you away at such a critical time.”
He smiled. “I assure you that it was.”
Drat. Was he going to play cat-and-mouse? Emily smiled back. “I hope it was not dangerous?”
He held her gaze. “Dare I hope you would be concerned if it were?”
She returned his look. “Of course. Dragoons were spotted passing by Strae Castle, not very long ago, heading south.”
Gavin looked disconcerted for a moment, then he shrugged. “The general at Fort William probably sent them on a mission.”
