Page 80 of Desire of a Highlander

Henry Mudoch though, stood at ease, as though armed men were not standing amongst the trees with muskets within arm’s reach. Lady Alana folded her hands in her lap, every inch the gracious noblewoman, though the watchfulness in her eyes betrayed her.

“What do ye want with me?” Ronan asked.

Henry Murdoch spread his arms wide. “To talk. That’s all.”

“To talk? Is that why yer men attacked two of mine and left one of them for dead?” He couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice.

The lord winced. “Those incidents were...regrettable. And not done at my order, I can assure ye. Those responsible were punished. We only ever wanted to talk. The little settlement ye’ve built is...remarkably difficult to locate. But today fortune smiled upon us.”

Ronan’s gaze remained steady. “Fortune is it? I thought it was because ye’ve been tracking us.”

Henry laughed softly. “Aye, that too.” His face grew more serious. “Ye are no doubt wondering why we’ve gone to such trouble.”

Ronan said nothing. He glanced at Elodie and took a step closer to her. Bran and Skye were poised and alert, hackles raised. The men around the clearing might have been carved from stone for the little they moved.

As if he had all the time in the world, Henry removed one glove and clasped his hands behind his back, almost like a tutor beginning a lesson. “My family once held the lands north of here, if ye remember.”

Ronan said nothing, merely watched Murdoch.

Henry’s smile contained no warmth now. “We were prosperous. Loyal to Scotland. When the Articles of Union were proposed, many believed Scotland had sold herself.” His voice remained calm, but anger simmered beneath every word. His eyes met Ronan’s. “We were some of them.”

Ronan shifted his weight. He could guess where this was heading. “So ye are rebels?”

“We are patriots!” Henry hissed. “We willnae stomach seeing Scotland become naught more than a plaything of the English crown!”

Lady Alana spoke. “And for that, we paid the price. Our lands were confiscated. Our tenants scattered.”

Henry spread his hands. “We escaped. Barely.”

Ronan glanced around. “What has this got to do with me or the Steading? What do ye want from me?”

Henry and Alana shared a look. Then Alana spoke. “Do ye know who it was who rooted out our rebellion? Do ye know who it was who took everything from us? A name ye know all too well. Bryce Campbell, the Earl of Newborough.”

Ronan fought to keep his face expressionless, but he could feel a nerve twitching in his cheek. Bryce? He’d become embroiled in politics? It had always been his youngest brother, Niall, who had been the one with the social conscience, the reformer who wanted to make things better. Bryce had only ever been interested in his own power and influence. This didn’t fit with what he knew of his eldest brother at all.

“We have gathered those still willing to fight,” Alana went on. “Former soldiers. Men and women who refuse to kneel.”

Henry smiled again. “Ye might call us...persistent.”

Ronan hooked his thumbs into his belt. “Ye still havenae told me what this has got to do with me and my people.”

“We know ye hate yer brother,” Henry said. “We know yer brother hates ye. We know that ye are desperately trying to find a place where yer people will be safe and ye think that Campbell lands will be that place. But it willnae. Bryce Campbell willnae give ye what ye want. Not without a fight. But we can help ye with that.”

His gaze sharpened. “We propose an alliance, Ronan Campbell. Ye give us the Steading—the base of operations we need—and in return we will give ye the fighters to retake yer lands.”

“Picture it,” Alana added. “Ye will be laird of yer own lands again. Yer people will be safe. They will have a place to call home.”

“And all I have to do to get it is betray my own brother, is that right?” Ronan growled.

Henry laughed sharply. “Ye betrayed him years ago when ye almost killed him! Ye think Bryce Campbell still sees ye as his brother? He views ye as a rabid dog and he will put ye down the moment he sets eyes on ye. There is no middle ground, Ronan. It’s either ye or him. Ye know this.”

Something cold settled into Ronan’s gut. Aye, he knew it. He’d known it from the moment he’d decided to agree to Faye’s request and take his people south. He’d been fooling himself to think that he might be able to win back his lands without bloodshed. Bryce would see him hang before he handed over his lands.

But the Murdochs were offering him another way.

Alana climbed to her feet. She was graceful and willowy, almost as tall as Ronan himself. “We only wish to protect yer people. They deserve better than hiding in a forgotten valley while Scotland tears herself apart.”

Ronan folded his arms. “They deserve peace. Freedom.”