Page 14 of The Eagle

In actuality, upon becoming laird Darach split the vast lands of Clan Ross between his brothers, giving each of them plenty of land. His lands—which were to the northwest—included a fishing village, woods with plenty of wildlife, and access to a large body of freshwater, Loch Bee. Gideon was given the lands to the north, Ewan lived on his lands just below Gideon’s. Duncan and Caelan had lands to the south.

Once inside the study, the Maclean lowered to a chair next to his son. He studied Darach for a long moment.

“I demand my eldest son be returned to me immediately. Where is he? Where is Lennox?”

For a scant second Darach was taken off guard, no one would notice except for those who knew him as well as his brothers did.

It all became clear. The Maclean was dying and wished for his eldest—and next in line to be Laird Maclean—to take over his duties.

“Is it not his decision to make? Whether to return or not?” Darach asked. “I have no claim over yer son, nor can I order him to do anything.”

Liam Maclean kept a blank expression. If the older brother did not return, it meant he would become laird by default. It was an interesting turn of events. Stuart understood why the younger Maclean was bitter. His father would rather travel and lower himself to admit his eldest was against him than to allow him the position.

“Lennox is headstrong. Turned against me. I would rather not go into details as to why. I wish to speak to him and then bring him and the men who are left back to Skye.”

Stuart exchanged a look with Darach. “By force?”

“If need be,” the Maclean barked. “He has no choice in the matter.”

Darach was pensive. “Why would anyone wish for a reluctant laird?”

“It is not the lairdship he is reluctant about,” Liam finally spoke. “It is returning prior to father’s death.”

The Maclean’s head snapped toward his younger son. “Enough.”

It was certainly a fascinating predicament. Given the size of the Ross army, the Maclean could not take Lennox by force. And yet, Darach could not intervene in something so personal between another laird and his son.

“Yer son is here,” Darach finally said. “Whatever he and ye decide is not something I wish to be part of.”

Darach motioned to Stuart. “Bring him.”

“One moment,” the Maclean said. “I have another reason for my visit. A marriage between our clans. I was hoping that Liam would meet Ella, yer sister. She is of marrying age is she not?”

“Ella is with the Macdonalds and will not return any time soon,” Darach replied noncommittally. “Marriage between our clans is a conversation for another day.”

“What of ye, Stuart?” the laird said pinning him with a smug look. “My daughter Lila is in need of a good match.”

Stuart glanced at Darach before responding. “Like my brother stated, I believe this to be a conversation for another day.”

“I do not have many days left,” the Maclean barked. “I must resolve many matters before departing. Yer clan would be a good ally to ours. If my stubborn son would just take responsibility and do what is required, I would not have to be here. It should be he ensuring my last wishes are granted.”

“Yer last wish—if I remember correctly—was for me to murder yer brother.” Lennox stood at the doorway. With an expression of disgust, he met his father’s gaze. “I will return, but only after worms are feasting on yer flesh.”

If the pronouncement affected the Maclean, it was not noticeable. Obviously, such words had been exchanged before.

Liam however was not adept at hiding his emotions. “Ye are an embarrassment. Are not fit to be laird over our people.”

Lennox’s right eyebrow arched. “And a murderer is?”

There was a stunned silence. Everyone in the room waited to hear what would be said next. Stuart was riveted to the spot. What was happening before him was not unlike how things had been when his father lived. The late Ross was a hateful evil man, who turned people against one another for sport.

When he looked to Darach, he saw that his brother also seemed enthralled by the argument.

“Can we have some privacy please?” the Maclean asked, seeming to deflate at realizing they were witnessing a very personal argument.

Darach motioned to his personal guards to follow. “Aye.” They all walked out.

Once out of earshot, Darach looked over his shoulder toward his study. “I hope to never become like him,” Darach said, shaking his head. “Do ye think power does that to a man?”