Page 95 of Desire of a Highlander

Angus snorted as if in agreement. Bran rested his great head on Ronan’s knee. Skye lay beside him, watching the road. Ronan stroked Bran’s ears absently.

There had to be another way. He simply couldn’t see it. Then, slowly an idea formed. It was dangerous. Desperate. But perhaps...

Ye are a long way from home and traveling further every moment. Yet the balance needs ye, Ronan Campbell, more than ye could know. If ye travel too far from where ye are meant to be it will tip even further out of kilter.

Perhaps it was always leading to this. Perhaps that’s what Irene MacAskill had meant when she’d spoken those words to him. Perhaps every step he’d taken had always been leading him back here. Full circle. To where it all began.

And where it would end.

Perhaps this was the way in which he redressed the balance.

Without making a sound, he removed his dagger from his belt. Then his pistol. He laid them beside Angus’s saddle then turned and looked at his people. They were all busy, working together as though they’d done so for years. Elodie stood in the midst of it all directing everyone and answering the questions fired at her.

Ah, Elodie. His heart swelled as he watched her. She’d changed his life. She’d changed him. Loving her had made him a better man and if he had his way, he’d spend his whole life showing her just how much that meant to him. He ached to speak to her, to hear her voice. But he knew she would only stop him.

So, ordering the dogs to stay then walking as swiftly and quietly as he could, he slipped away from the camp and onto the bridge. This time he moved quickly, furtively, keeping low so none of his own people would spot him. But when he’d moved past the mid-point, he rose to full height and spread his hands wide to show he was unarmed.

Bryce’s sentries intercepted him at the end of the bridge, barring his way and holding drawn pistols in one hand.

“That’s far enough.”

“I wish to see the earl,” he said.

The nearest soldier frowned. “He doesnae wish to see ye. Leave now.”

Ronan sighed. He’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. With a speed that belied his size, he launched himself at the man who’d spoken. He landed a punch to the man’s stomach that doubled him over, then rammed his elbow into his chin, sending him crashing onto his back.

The other men swore and then suddenly punches and kicks were raining down on him. A blow caught him on the chin and sent him staggering. Two men grabbed his arms from behind, pinning him. He didn’t fight them.

The man he’d hit staggered to his feet and wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. “Ye bastard,” he hissed. “If ye weren’t the earl’s brother I’d kill ye right now.”

“But I am the earl’s brother,” Ronan replied. “And I attacked one of his men. So take me to him so I can answer for it.”

The man glared then snapped at the others. “Bring him.”

Ronan offered no resistance as they bound his wrists and marched him away from the bridge and into the trees on the far side. A neat camp had been set up there, rows of small tents in orderly formation, surrounding a much larger one. The men marched him to this larger tent and held him outside whilst the leader ducked through the tent flap. He emerged a moment later and nodded to the others.

The guards pushed Ronan through the tent flap and into the large, sparse interior.

He found his eldest brother waiting for him.

Bryce Campbell, the Earl of Newborough, was sitting on a stool, one knee crossed over the other.

“Ye always were a tenacious bastard weren’t ye?” he snapped without bothering with a greeting. “And attacking my men is quite the novel way to get yerself into my presence.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Ronan growled. “When ye wouldnae even deign to speak to me?”

“And why should I?” Bryce replied, surging to his feet. “I could scarcely believe it when my scouts reported seeing ye heading this way. But they were right. After all these years ye turn up on my doorstep with yer own personal army! Ye are lucky I havenae had the lot of ye arrested and thrown in jail!”

“They’re not an army.”

Bryce gave a humorless smile. “That’s what every army says.”

“They’re refugees.”

“They’re armed.”

“For defence only. They’re frightened people with nowhere else to go.”