Page 74 of A Nameless Highland Laird
“My father was indeed the infamous Laird Knox. He was cruel for sport and when he drank, it only made him meaner. My mother was a poor maiden from the village that he got pregnant and refused to marry. She went on to have the three of us with him even after he refused to take care of us. Love makes us all do crazy things, I supposed. He would visit every so often and bring only enough money to keep us off the streets. We were often sent away when he came. But one day, he showed up without any warning. My mother did nae have time to get us out of the house.”
Cameron paused, the memory of it all already toying with his breathing. Charlotte reached out and took his head, holding it for comfort.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice as gentle as her touch.
“He was drunk. And like I said, the whiskey made him intolerable. He grew angry with my mother over something, I dinnae ken what. Whatever it was pushed him over the edge. He killed her in front of us and then ordered his men to kill us too. I can never forget my mother’s last look”
Charlotte gasped in horror but Cameron pressed on.
“A few of the guards gathered us up and took us to a shack on another Laird’s property. They locked us inside and set it ablaze. Luckily, some nearby villagers saw and pulled us all out in time. First, my baby sister and then my brother. They were both little more than bairns. The smoke grabbed a hold of my lungs and refused to let go when Alastair stepped in. He disobeyed my father’s orders and saved me. He was the only one of my father’s men to do such a thing.”
“That is why he is yer only advisor,” she said as if it was the answer to an unasked question.
“Aye. Alastair saved me but he could nae let my father ken that any of us made it out alive. So I was an orphan in the village and grew up as such.”
“Why? Why was it so dangerous for yer father to ken that ye were still alive? That any of ye survived?”
He sighed. It was a question he had spent years asking himself and knowing the answer hadn’t made him feel any better.
“My father was a sick man. He was greedy and impatient and paranoid. He was consumed with the thought that someone was going to rise up against him and steal his position and power. He couldn’t stomach the thought so he had all of the men in his line killed, starting with his children.”
Her eyes slid closed as though that would help shut out the horror of it all. But he knew better.
“As I told ye before, the only ones who survived had to flee in the middle of the night. There is nay telling how many are out there. The only reason I am here is because Alastair spent years looking after me. He kept me close, having seen the madness that crept up on my father. He kent that one day, someone would have to replace my father, and I was the closest thing the clan had to an heir. When that madness started to take over and dictate everything my father did, Alastair came to me again, only this time he did nae offer a cloak or some money. He came to ask if I would take over the clan. My father died nae long after I agreed. Once I moved into the castle, Alastair convinced me to find a bride that could help legitimize my claim. It was nae an easy task seeing as my father ruined the reputation of the Knox clan. He was everything the rumors and legends accused him of being. Some might say he was worse. But that is how we ended up here.”
Charlotte sat back against the sofa, shock written all over her face. He couldn’t blame her. While she had gotten bits and pieces of the story over the past few weeks, it was another thing to hear the whole thing all together. It was one that filled him with shame.
“I cannae say that I dinnae understand where yer father and these other clans are coming from, why they would want to attack me. We did nae announce that my father died or that I inheritied the title as nay one kent that he had a son at all. Alastair was hoping to announce it once things were a bit more settled so that we would be at less risk of being invaded. These enemies may all believe that they are coming to fight him, nae me.”
“I dinnae understand. Why have ye nae told them who ye are now that they are coming?”
“I will try to tell them once they are here. Sending a letter would never get to them in time. I will ask for an audience, but I doubt they will want to give me one. Many of them hate my father for what he did to their clans, their people. I cannae hold that against them. All I can do is ask, but if they refuse, then we will fight.”
He could see that her mind was trying to make sense of it all, that she was trying to put together the pieces of what he had said. She had no idea how messy things were and how great the threat of the Knox clan had been over the years, her father had made sure to keep her out of it all. In all likelihood, she was probably trying to come up with some way to get them out of this mess, but he knew they were stuck.
“And what happens if ye go to battle?”
Her voice was still small, though he knew it was for an entirely different reason.
“I have often prided myself on nae being anything like my father, Charlotte. I am nae a trained warrior. I have always hated violence. My lack of skill will likely be my downfall tomorrow. Despite what Alastair wants, I will nae allow others to fight this battle for me while I stand back and do nothing. So I will face tomorrow with the understanding that there is a great chance it will be my last sunrise.”
His admission caused an eruption of emotion from Charlotte. She let go of all propriety and threw herself into him, sobs racking her body. His arms snaked around her and tugged her in closer. Her hands gripped the front of his shirt. He knew she was wrinkling it, but he didn’t care. He wanted her to stay this close.
“This is all my fault,” she breathed in between sobs. “I should have told my father more about ye weeks ago. I should have told ye about the letters he was sending. Then he would have kent that ye are nae yer father and we would nae be on the eve of war.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and smoothed out her hair.
“Nay, lass. The only one to blame for this mess is my own father. These are his sins coming back to haunt us.”
She looked up at him with teary eyes. They were so close, so much of her was touching him. He couldn’t stop himself from bending his head to place a soft kiss on her lips. He had no intention of taking things any further, but the minute his mouth found hers, he was lost. Kissing her alleviated the stress that had been rising in him all day. Kissing her let him forget about what tomorrow would bring.
In a moment of boldness, he let his hands cradle her back, shifting them so she was laying on the couch while he hovered over her. Their lips never broke and he knew that she needed this as much as he did.
They had both been through so much together over the past few weeks and in that moment, it felt like all they had was each other. Between all of the lessons she had given him to help him be a better Laird to trying to deal with Alec, he had gotten so much more out of their engagement than he had ever thought possible. She wasn’t just some girl with the right last name and the right connections. She wasn’t his way into solidifying his claim to rule the Knox clan. Somewhere along the way, she had become his friend. The first he had ever truly had. She was his partner, willing to build back his clan and do whatever it took to keep their people safe. Combined with the fact that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with the sweetest spirit, it was no wonder that he was head over heels for her. It was no wonder that he didn’t try to stop his hands from wandering over the fabric of her dress.
“Cameron,” she breathed, her hands going to his chest.
She pushed up a little, creating a gap of space between them, as if she needed it to be able to breathe. His heart hammered against his ribs hard enough that he was sure she could feel it through his shirt.
He leaned back onto his haunches, giving her plenty of space to sit up and collect herself. He loved seeing how flushed she was, knowing that he had just as much of an effect on her as she had on him.
“I need ye to hear me when I say this,” she started, a fire in her eyes that he wanted to burn alive in. “I dinnae care if ye are the true Laird or nae. I dinnae care if ye lose this clan and have nothing to yer name again. I only care that ye survive this battle, that ye live past tomorrow. Ye have to survive so that ye can marry me.”
“Charlotte,” he moaned, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“Let me finish,” she interrupted, a hand up to silence him. “Ye have to marry me because I can nay longer imagine living in this world without ye, whether ye are a Laird or nae. So, we will face this useless war together. We will do what we can to stop it, but if we can nae, then ye must survive. Ye will survive. And then we will be married.”
Anything he might have said in response disappeared from his mind. All he knew to do was lean forward and kiss her again. He poured every ounce of love he had for her into his kiss and she returned his passion in kind. This time, she didn’t stop him. And for the rest of the night he held her close. Despite what she demanded from him, he knew that this could be their last night together and he refused to waste it.
