5
The group was seated at the scarred table, hoods over their head, and their bodies tucked into robes so they could not be identified unless necessary. The hut was in the midst of the woods, the candles illuminating the small space, but no light shone from the windowless room to dissuade anyone who happened upon them.
Still, there were guards posted at the door, their swords ready to silence any outsiders for the sake of keeping their meeting secret. This was not a group that one just invited themselves to join. This group was sacred, and the members were handpicked for their ability to look at the greater good of Scotland. The group came from all reaching areas of Scotland, from every clan and even those that were discussed within the windowless room.
On the table before them was the sacred wine that had been from generations past and would be drunk the moment their business concluded. Anyone who refused the wine was killed on the spot, but that had not happened in many years.
They were together for the clan’s sake and the future of becoming the sole surviving clan in Scotland. Too many clans had been formed over the years, and the land was rapidly being taken up by clans with weak rulers.
Clans that did not deserve to be ruling. Their organization had operated in secret for generations, locating these said clans and forcing the rulers to lay down for the sake of the greater good. Sometimes they met the end of a sword, but it wasn’t because they had not tried to negotiate.
Some said that they were crazy, but they liked to think that it would be them that was left in the end and not their doubters. This was not for the faint of heart, attempting to make their country become one with the rest of the emerging countries. Only the strongest clans would survive, and it would be up to them to ensure that Scotland would only become stronger.
One of the members held up his hand and the room fell silent, only the sound of the crackling of the wood in the fireplace filling the space. “Good day to you, brothers.”
“As to you,” the others called out, bowing their heads in a sign of respect. While they all operated on the same length, with no true leader, he had become their visionary over the past few years, and he relished in it.
“We have another ruler, one that has not been deemed worthy of continuing with their reign. They will do nothing but bring the clan down, and it is imperative that we eliminate the threat.”
The room was silent as he stood and walked over to the flames, pulling out the hot iron that had been seated there. No one bothered to interrupt him, not even a flinch as he walked over to the crude wall, placing the hot iron against the wood, the smell of burning filling the air. It was a symbolic gesture; the symbol burned into the wood so their mission would be started. Once complete, the symbol was etched in animal’s blood, and they would move on to their next task.
He removed the iron from the wall and placed it back into the fire before addressing the room, his face in the shadows of his hood. They kept their identities secret even from themselves, with only two ways to know if they were part of the small group. One, there was a small burn on their inner wrist, almost innocent in nature unless the true meaning was known.
Two, there was a medallion, one that was passed down through the generations from members to the new members that replaced them. He chose to keep his medallion tucked into his sporran, where it would be out of sight unless he needed it.
“I have a threat,” he started, clasping his hands behind his back. “I have a threat that is no good for Clan McDougal. She is not fit to reign over the clan.”
“What of the clan?” one asked, his voice gruff. Some attempted to disguise their voices and identities in case they were in a position of power.
“The clan will survive given the right laird,” he responded. The McDougal clan had been strong with the previous laird, a bloodthirsty bunch that had overtaken Clan Mcaiwn but not killed the laird soon enough. A traitor in their midst had helped the laird survive, and now there was a lass who was attempting to take over.
That could not be allowed. She did not hold the same thoughts regarding what was best for the clan, and if they allowed her to continue on, their clan would be taken over by another stronger clan.
They would become nonexistent. “A vote,” he called out, banging his fist on the table and rattling the bottles of wine. “A vote to eliminate this laird by Beltane’s day.” It would give them roughly a month to do so.
“Aye, a vote,” another called out, standing. He watched as the rest of the group stood along with him, the vote secured now that everyone agreed. The group had spoken.
A smile slid across his face as he thought about what he had already attempted to do alone. The fire had been a warning, a chance to use a scare tactic to chase her off, but it had not worked. Mcaiwn had inserted himself into the carefully laid plans, and now the lady was their clan ruler.
It disgusted him.
The meeting dispersed shortly after, and he stayed behind, looking at the burn marks in the wall, the proof of their conquests over the years. He had come too far to ignore this oversight, and soon the new lady of the clan would realize that she was not wanted.
If she did not give up her seat, she would be permanently removed from it.
6
The next day, Katherine followed her cousin out of the keep and to the waiting wagon. “I detest traveling so,” Ainslee grumbled as she helped Myra into the bed. “But Arran wilnae let me ride.”
Katherine grinned, placing the basket full of baked goods fresh from the kitchen in the wagon as well. “I dinnae think ye would follow any man’s request, dear cousin.”
Ainslee looked at her, a wry smile on her lips. “As much as I want tae tell ye I dinnae, mah husband can be vera persuasive.”
Katherine rolled her eyes, though she was glad that Ainslee had found Arran in her life. He was a steadfast, fair laird who clearly loved his wife dearly, and what he had done for her, Katherine could never repay him.
“’Tis time for ye tae start thinking aboot a husband, Katherine,” Ainslee said casually as she leaned against the wagon. “The council will start asking questions if ye dinnae.”
“I know,” Katherine sighed, wishing there was a way she could forget the fact that she would be asked to carry on the McDougal generation. It wasn’t that she was against marriage, but any man that would take their place at her side would see it as a means to take over. She was the laird of this clan, not her husband. “I just dinnae want tae saddle mahself with someone who wants me for mah title.”
Ainslee nodded sympathetically. “It will be a difficult task. Perhaps Arran can help with the choice.”
Katherine swallowed, glancing back at the keep entrance. “Is he vera angry with me?”
“Of course not,” her cousin replied, laying her hand on Katherine’s shoulder. “He understands yer struggles, and he doesnae want ye tae think he’s not supportive of ye. He just, he worries far too much.”
“I value everything he taught me,” Katherine said slowly, glad at least that he wasn’t mad from their conversation after the council meeting. She had been so angered, feeling as if no one trusted she could not only be the laird the clan needed but also protect herself in the process. The last thing she needed was to be coddled. “I can handle mahself. I survived Liam’s reign.”
Ainslee’s eyes darkened, and Katherine knew her cousin was thinking about all the things her own brother had put her through. Ainslee still bore the scars of their final battle together before Arran had saved her life, and Katherine was certain she had nightmares about it as well. “Ye are strong,” Ainslee finally said, her eyes clearing. “Ye can do anything, Katherine. Dinnae forget that.”
Katherine reached out and wrapped her arms around her cousin, tears crowding her eyes. She didn’t want them to leave, but she knew that Arran had a clan to get back to, and their home was not here.
This was her home; she had to get used to it.
The keep door opened, and Arran stepped out, with Cameron at his side. Kathe
rine released Ainslee and tried not to look at Cameron as the men approached. She had not talked with him since that night in the great hall, where he had been foxed, and she had been angry, but she would give him a polite farewell just the same.
“Katherine,” Arran said, inclining his head toward her.
Katherine drew in a breath. “I wish tae tell ye that I appreciate everything ye have done for me, Arran. I know mah emotions get the better of me, but I can never repay ye for what ye have done.”
“Then ye will understand why I am doing this.”
Surprised, she eyed him. “Doing what?”
He turned toward Cameron, and Katherine felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Cameron wouldn’t even meet her gaze, his jaw clenched tightly as he looked over her head, and Katherine felt her entire world crash around her.
“I still believe yer life is in danger,” Arran said gently. “And I wilnae stop thinking that until mah gut tells me otherwise.”
“What are ye doing, Arran?” Ainslee asked her husband, her brow furrowed. Katherine was glad to see that her cousin was in the dark with whatever her husband was about to say, for she would hate to be the only one that didn’t understand.
“I’m leaving Cameron.”
“No!” Katherine blurted out, catching the attention of the trio around her. Cameron arched a brow, and Katherine felt the dull flush on her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to say it aloud. “I mean, he’s yer second-in-command. He needs tae be with ye.”
“Finally, someone who agrees with mah,” Cameron muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I can take care of mahself,” Arran replied, shooting a dark look at Cameron. “Besides. I dinnae know if ye can trust this lot, Katherine. He will only stay until Beltane, and if nothing is amiss at that time, then Cameron will come home.”
Beltane was over a month away, which meant that she would have to be in Cameron’s presence far longer than she would care to be. “I dinnae need this,” she said softly, pleading with Arran to change his mind. She already had enough to deal with the council and making her place in this clan. The last thing she needed was a distraction like Cameron.
He placed his heavy hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “I’m sorry, lass. I cannae in good conscience leave ye here alone. Cameron will look out for ye. He will keep ye safe.”
She knew he would. That wasn’t the problem.
Seeing that Arran was not going to change his mind, she gave him a tight smile. “Until Beltane, and then ye will realize ’tis all just nonsense worry. I promise ye.”
“I hope so,” Arran said with a small smile. “Come now. Say yer goodbyes.”
Katherine turned to Ainslee, and the women collapsed into each other’s arms, tears threatening Katherine’s eyes as she did so. Ainslee was the only true family she had left, and while she knew her cousin would come if she got into danger, she wasn’t right down the hall any longer. “Be safe, Cousin,” Ainslee whispered into her ear. “Cameron will protect ye. Give him a chance.”
Katherine didn’t respond, instead turning to give her farewells to Arran and Myra before striding away, her heart heavy. Now that they both had their freedom, it was difficult to walk away and not worry about each other.
Cameron caught up with her in the great hall, where she was standing in front of the fire with her arms wrapped around her waist. “Wot?” she asked softly, not looking at him.
“We need tae talk aboot this.”
Katherine looked at him then. “I am not someone ye can order aboot any longer, Cameron. I am laird of this keep, and I will be treated as such!” She was hurting from Ainslee’s departure and the fact that she hadn’t gotten rid of Cameron when she desperately wanted to.
His eyes darkened. “I tried tae go with him ye know. This was not mah choice.”
She dropped her arms and walked up to him, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes and smell the soap he favored.
It wasn’t the first time she had noticed that smell. “Then at least we both agree on that. Just stay out of mah way so that we can get to Beltane, and then ye can go home.” She had a month to ignore him, something that she had been doing for three years already. It wouldn’t be that hard to continue to do so.
“I cannae do that, Katherine,” he said softly, his eyes flickering over her face. “Mah laird asked for me tae protect ye so wherever ye go, I do.”
Katherine clenched her jaw. “I wilnae allow ye in mah bedchamber.” Just the thought warmed her body in ways she had felt before in his presence.
He chuckled. “Och lass, ye know how tae wound a Scot.”
His words did not help. “Stay oot of mah way, Cameron,” she said softly before turning on her heel and walking away.
It wasn’t until she was safe in her chambers that Katherine let her guard down, falling onto her bed with a heavy sigh. No one save Cameron knew what had happened on their journey three years ago, how he had saved her from certain doom and comforted her when she needed it the most. It had been her one moment of weakness as well as a moment of shame, and every time she looked at him, she saw that.
But there was more.
Katherine walked through the halls of the keep, finding the silence welcoming. After years of screaming, of those begging for their lives, the keep would no longer see such horrible things. Liam had been captured by Arran, and he would no longer make this clan suffer.
Neither would Katherine. Though Liam had laid a hand on his sister, he had never laid a hand on her. He had railed at her, jeered at her, and even threatened to marry her to some stuffy English lord so he could start to lay claim to English soil as well. She had pushed at him at every turn, and now he was gone.
She was free.
Katherine drew in a breath, the smell of fresh rushes on the floor filling her senses. So many things had changed since the news had been brought, and while some had wanted vengeance, they were quickly overrun by those that did not. Most of the clan wanted peace, and rightly so.
The door to the great hall opened behind her, and Katherine turned, watching as a man strode in, the tartan colors of Mcaiwn at his waist. “Katherine McDougal?” he asked, his thick Scottish burr filling the air.
“Yes?” she asked, clasping her hands behind her back.
He pulled out a piece of wrinkled paper from his tunic, handing it to her. Katherine sucked in a breath as she got a closer look at his strong jaw and piercing eyes, the way that his hair fell about his shoulders, and cleared her throat. “Who are ye?”
“Cameron McAuley,” he stated, beating his fist against his chest. “Of Mcaiwn. Yer cousin wants ye tae come with me.”
Katherine’s hands trembled as she opened the missive, reading Ainslee’s elegant scrawl that did, in fact, invite her to come to her new home so they could plan Katherine’s future. She was so grateful that Ainslee had survived Liam’s attack and found Arran in the process.
“I will need a few days tae prepare,” she said, folding the letter carefully.
“Ye have one day.”
Katherine frowned at him. “One day?”
He nodded. “I wish tae get back tae mah laird as soon as possible.”
“One day isnae going tae work for me,” she argued. The clan was in chaos. She would have to make sure there were adequate clansmen that could function in the roles of the council until she could get back.
He leaned forward, his eyes hard. “I dinnae care wot works for ye. One day, lass. That is all ye have.”
Katherine snapped out of the memory, feeling the anger rise in her chest. He had not listened to her then, so what was going to make him listen to her now? She didn’t want the council to think she had asked him to stay, nor did she want them to think she was weak and unable to fill her role for this clan. Katherine loved this clan and wanted to do right by them.
But she couldn’t with Cameron breathing over her shoulder.
Katherine fell back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling with h
er hands resting on her stomach. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that Cameron was a handsome Scot, though his hardness had made him nearly impossible to get along with. She had attempted to torture him mercilessly on that trip, to make him regret the day he had forced her to leave within that day’s time.
Until the incident at the river, that is.
Well, he would have to learn that her new role meant she could force him to remain in the shadows, where he liked to be. He was not her partner in this, and no matter what Arran was worried about, Cameron wasn’t going to be here for long.
She would just ignore him.
Katherine thought about his handsome profile and sighed. As if she could ignore him. Ever since he had started coming on the journeys with Arran, she had been acutely aware of where he was and how much he had changed over the years. There was no shred of softness to him, and she knew he preferred to frequent the taverns often.
But he was well regarded not only with Arran but with the warriors he had helped train, the same warriors that would protect her border and her for the future.
She just had to make it to Beltane.
Rising from the bed, Katherine strode to the door, her moment of reprieve over with. That would be what she reminded herself of then. Beltane was going to be her final bid for freedom.
7
He did not know how people did this.
Cameron leaned against the wall of the council room, listening to the elder clansmen drone on about some nonsense that had the others nodding off to his words. Despite what Katherine said, he had been waiting in the great hall for her this morning to escort her to her duties for the day.
She had ignored him completely.
So, he had followed her, and for the last four bleeding hours, they had been enclosed in the warm room, listening to the elder clansmen speak on behalf of the entire McDougal clan. He had heard everything from sheep theft to latrines, and even once he had thought about nodding off himself.
Highlander’s Royal Blood: A Steamy Scottish Medieval Historical Romance Page 4
