“I didn’t think I was going to get out of that,” he whispered. “And I didn’t want to die without seeing you one more time. And then there you were, running toward me, and I thought I was seeing things.”
“Oh, Iain. I was so afraid of what I was going to find when I saw ye. I’ll admit that I thought yer injuries would be much worse. But one thing I didn’t think about was leaving that place without ye. I was damned if ye were going to tell me about the light after the dark and then ye not be there in the light.”
He chuckled, his breath warm on her stomach. “I want to make love to you, Cait, but I’m afraid I don’t have it in me tonight.”
“Just hold me,” she said softly. “Just hold me.”
Iain held Cait through the night while she alternately cried and slept. It felt good to be in his arms again. They spoke little of what had happened to Iain and none of what had happened to Rory. It was too fresh, too raw, and still too unbelievable. There was a tiny spark of hope inside Cait that this was unreal and they would fetch Rory in the morning.
That wasn’t what happened, although they did receive a bit of good news. Palmer told them that instead of being hanged, Rory was to travel to England, where he would be put on trial for the killing of five English soldiers.
Iain seemed to be heartened by that news. “As soon as we get home, I will send a message to my solicitor in England to find the best possible person to represent Rory,” he said.
“Ye would do that?” she asked.
He hugged her tight. “Of course I will do that.”
Not able to help Rory now, they rode home, the five of them, in grim silence. Cait didn’t want to believe that her cousin had been the one to kill those soldiers. She knew him. Yes, they’d been estranged for the past eight years, but he’d not changed that dramatically.
“You just don’t know about people,” Iain said. “Circumstances drive them to do horrible things.”
“I won’t believe it,” she said defiantly. “I’ll never believe it.”
“Cait, he admitted it. He confessed. I don’t know what other proof you need.”
“Then something drove him to it.”
“The English drove him to it. He said as much.”
She shook her head as tears fell from her eyes.
“Ah, Cait. I’m so sorry.”
“He didn’t do it. I know he didn’t.”
“Then the person I hire to represent him will make certain he isn’t convicted of it.”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “What am I to tell my grandfather?” she whispered.
“We’ll tell him together, and we’ll make certain he understands that Rory will be well represented.”
If not for Iain’s arrest, they never would have known Rory’s secret, and he would have continued killing.
They rode under the gatehouse of the big house, road-weary and exhausted in their souls. All Cait wanted to do was fall into a soft bed and sleep for the next several days, but that wasn’t possible, because both grandfathers were waiting for them.
Their faces were expectant when they saw Iain. It turned Cait’s heart that she had worse news to impart.
She slid off her horse into Iain’s arms. “Be strong,” he whispered in her ear as he hugged her tightly.
“I don’t think I have any strength left in me.”
He kissed her nose. “Of course you do.”
“Well, lass, ye did it,” Graham said. “How ye did it, I don’t know, but he’s free from the clutches of the bloody English.” He eyed Iain. “Although ye look a little worse for wear, lad. Had a time with ye, did they?”
“Aye,” Iain said.
She hugged Graham, then MacGregor.
“How’d ye do it?” MacGregor asked.
She hesitated and looked at Iain.
“We’ll tell you all about it,” Iain said. “But first we need to speak to Graham alone.”
MacGregor glanced at Graham, who had gone pale. He looked around at the travel-weary warriors. “Where’s Rory?”
Cait took Graham’s arm and steered him toward the house. Iain was right. She found the strength she needed. She always found the strength she needed. She heard Iain give orders to the grooms, who were taking the horses away, and to the housekeeper about food.
Maggie came out of the house and went to MacLean, who hugged her tightly. Eleanor emerged as well and met up with Sutherland. How the women came to be at the big house, Cait didn’t know, but she was inordinately glad to see them.
Iain caught up to Cait and her grandfather and directed them to his study, where Graham sat down heavily and looked at Cait with sad eyes. “Just tell me.”
She knelt before him and took his gnarled hands in hers while Iain poured three glasses of whiskey. “Rory has been arrested, Grandfather.”
His fingers jerked in hers. “Those damn bloody English. What charges have they thought up now?”
She squeezed his fingers lightly. “It’s not like that. Rory admitted to killing Donaldson and the other soldiers.”
He yanked his hands from hers and put them on the arms of the chair as if to rise. But the strength went out of him and he slumped back into the chair, hanging his head and rubbing his eyes. Iain squeezed his shoulder. “Why?” Graham asked in a scratchy voice.
“He said he was tired of the English forcing their authority on us. He wanted them gone from Scotland.”
Graham raised his head with fire in his eyes. “So the big numpty thought he could kill them one by one? Is the lad daft?”
“I don’t know what was going on in his head.”
Graham looked over at Iain. “So ye didn’t kill the bastard Donaldson?”
“No, sir.”
“But yet ye said ye did it. Why?”
“To save Cait.”
Graham’s jaw worked for a bit. “Ye love her that much?”
“I do.”
Graham looked at her. “And ye love him, too?”
“More than anything.”
He nodded. The lines in his face appeared more stark than when they’d first walked in. His once proud shoulders were bowed.
“I’m sorry, Grandfather.”
He jerked his head up. “For what?”
“For Rory.”
Iain cleared his throat. “There is some good news. They’re taking him to England, and I will hire the best man to represent him. Hopefully, we can get the charges dropped and Rory released.”
Graham shifted his attention to Iain. “And what if he really did do this? Then what?”
“Then he will be convicted.”
“And hanged,” Graham said, his face paling. “My God. I had no idea. I don’t like the English any more than the next Scot, but I would never condone this type of killing.”
“You are free to stay here for as long as you want,” Iain said.
Graham straightened his shoulders. “Nay. I need to get back to my own clan before word spreads. Rory was well liked, and it will be a blow to our people.” He pushed up from the chair and looked at Cait with watery eyes.
“I’ll come to ye when I can,” she said softly.
“I know ye will, lass.” He glared at Iain. “Ye take care of her. She’s all I have left in this world, ye know.”
Iain stepped up next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “She’s all I have in this world, too.”
Graham looked at the two of them, his gaze flitting back and forth and finally landing on Iain. “Give me a few days and then come to me. We’ll discuss yer thoughts on working with the English for the betterment of Scotland. I’m no’ convinced it can happen, but I’ll listen.”
Iain nodded. “I’ll come by in a few days and bring Cait with me, too.”
Graham nodded and walked out, a little more stooped, his steps a little slower.
—
After Cait and Iain watched Graham ride away, Cait broke down and cried. To her surprise, MacGregor followed Graham and said he would stay with him for a bit. Could it be that her g
randfathers were finally coming to like each other? How sad that it had taken a tragedy for such a thing to happen.
She and Iain walked back into the house, where Brice and Eleanor and Maggie and Colin were waiting for them. Brice had pulled out the whiskey and they all had a drink, even the women.
“Whatever you need,” Eleanor said to Cait in her soft voice, “you just ask.” Maggie nodded and raised her glass in salute.
“Thank ye,” Cait said, overly warmed by these new friendships. It seemed like so long ago that she was alone in her cottage and liking it that way. Now she couldn’t imagine such a thing. She had friends. Something she’d never thought she’d have again. Two women who liked her and wanted to be in her company. She wanted that as well, which was more shocking.
She looked over at Iain, and her heart filled with a love that she’d long denied herself. John wouldn’t be upset. He would be surprised but not upset. Iain was right. John wouldn’t have wanted her to wither away on the edge of nowhere alone, hurt and grieving the rest of her life.
Iain caught her eye and grinned at her. He made his way to her, took her hand, and raised it to his swollen and bruised lips. “We’ll wed when the bruises go away,” he said softly.
She grinned. “Why then?”
“So no one thinks we beat each other on the way to the wedding.” He frowned. “How long do bruises take to heal?”
“Ten days or so.”
He groaned. “That long?”
Behind him, Sutherland laughed and clapped him on the back, making Iain wince. “Ye waited this long, mate, ye can wait a bit longer.”
“I’m no’ so sure of that.” MacLean rocked back on his heels and wiggled his eyebrows at Iain. Maggie slapped him on the shoulder and rolled her eyes. They all laughed.
It was a bright point, a memory that Cait would cherish when the dark times came. Because they were coming. Cait had no idea what the future held for Scotland or the proud Scottish people who had inhabited this land for centuries. Certainly there would be some changes ahead for them; she only hoped they would realize that compromise was the only way to survive. She of all people knew that compromise was difficult, but if she could do it, then her fellow Scots could as well.
Only then would they be able to live in peace.
But Iain was right. There would be darkness and there would be light, and she was comfortable with that as long as she weathered it with Iain by her side and the Sutherlands and MacLeans as her friends.
Iain put his arm around her and she leaned in to his strength. “Thank ye,” she said.
“For what?”
She shrugged, having a hard time putting her feelings into words. “For everything. For forcing me out of my cottage and into the real world. For being with me when I told my grandfather about Rory. For admitting to the murder of Donaldson when ye hadn’t done it. For…loving me even when I’m at my most unlovable.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “I’d do anything for you, Cait. Even love you when you’re at your most unlovable. I promised you a lifetime, and that’s exactly what I’m going to give you.”
To my husband, John, who always knows when to be supportive and when to push me to be my best—both with my writing and in life. I’m not sure where I would be without him but it certainly wouldn’t be here.
Acknowledgments
We’ve all heard that it takes so much more than an author writing a book to get it in front of the readers and while it may seem clichéd, it is so true. I wouldn’t be here, and you wouldn’t be reading Cait and Iain’s story, if it weren’t for my awesome agent, Jessica Alvarez, of BookEnds Literary Agency, who is always available and open-minded for any strange question I throw her way. My editor, Julia Maguire, and I met for the first time while I was writing this book, but I couldn’t have asked for a better editor. Coming into a series during the third, and final, book couldn’t have been easy but she gave amazing insight and had some great ideas that took Cait and Iain’s story to the next level. Thank you, Julia! And thank you to Peguin Random House for allowing me a place to call my literary home!
And thank you to all my readers who leave me awesome little notes on my Facebook page and send me encouraging emails, reminding me why I do this. You all are so supportive and wonderful!
BY SHARON CULLEN
Secrets and Seduction
The Notorious Lady Anne
Loving the Earl
Pleasing the Pirate
Sebastian’s Lady Spy
Highland Pride
Sutherland’s Secret
MacLean’s Passion
Campbell’s Redemption
Other Books
His Saving Grace
The Reluctant Duchess
PHOTO: PAM JONES PHOTOGRAPHY
Campbell’s Redemption is SHARON CULLEN’s ninth historical romance with Loveswept. Her other novels include MacLean’s Passion, Sutherland’s Secret, The Reluctant Duchess, Sebastian’s Lady Spy, His Saving Grace, The Notorious Lady Anne, Loving the Earl, and Pleasing the Pirate. Sharon is also the author of romantic suspense, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance.
If you’d like to find out more about Sharon and her books, you can visit her at her blog or her website. She’s addicted to social networking, so you can find her on Facebook and Twitter. Friend her! Like her! Follow her! She’d love to hang out with you and talk about her passion—books.
sharoncullen.net
Facebook.com/SharonCullenAuthor
@SharonCullen
Instagram.com/sharon_cullen
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