Amanda Scott (4 page)

She glared at him. “That is the stupid law which says that no one of lower rank than an earl or a clan chief may own a deerhound, is it not?”

“Yes. So you see—”

“I quite see that it is a stupid law, and I do not see why anyone should have to obey laws that are stupid. Surely, someone would buy one and not tell.”

“Some of us are working to change the law, but I do not intend to break it, and that is not the point just now, in any case. Presently, I know of only one man who wants to buy a dog from me. Unfortunately, the one he wants is Cailean, and I am not willing to sell him merely to frank your expenses in Edinburgh.”

“But—”

“No, Bridget. I don’t deny that among the many ways I have considered to repay the debt, I’ve included the possibility of arranging a marriage for you, but—”

“I will not marry that horrid man.”

“Despite your obvious assumption that I have seriously considered such a course, my dear, you are still much too young to marry anyone.”

“That is preposterous, Michael. Our mother was no older than I am when Papa married her.”

“That is quite true,” he said, regarding her thoughtfully. There was a notion that had occurred to him, more than once, but before now he had dismissed it out of hand, believing that she was too young for marriage.

“I know what you should do,” she exclaimed. “You should marry an heiress yourself, Michael! That would solve all our problems, would it not?”

“It would,” he agreed. “Unfortunately, I do not know of any heiress whose family would welcome a penniless earl with lands mortgaged to the last dirt clod, who will lose all he owns if she does not instantly pay his debts for him.”

“Nonsense, there must be at least one who would marry you for your title alone,” Bridget said. “I don’t say she would be well born, necessarily, but that need not count with you, after all. There are tradesmen’s daughters, surely—”

His voice cold again, Michael said, “Even if I could find such a person before Campbell takes all I own, I would not bring her into this family. I owe more to our ancient line than to taint it with unsuitable blood, Bridget. You refuse to count even our kinsmen as persons to whom you will condescend to speak. How would it be if you could not bring yourself to speak to my wife?”

“Well, it would be very hard,” she agreed, “but if she were rich you would have plenty of money to send me to Edinburgh, and I could just stay with Aunt Marsali until I find a proper husband. So you see, Michael—”

“What I see is that you are making it easier for me to consider a possibility I had until now dismissed as unconscionable,” he said grimly. “However, if you truly think yourself old enough to marry, I will look into that possibility. Indeed, I’ll tell you to your head, Bridget, that right now, if I thought sending you to Edinburgh would result in a timely and advantageous marriage for you, I’d do it.”

“Oh, Michael, it would! You’ll see. Oh, pray send me!”

“Unfortunately,” he said dryly, “I doubt that a single visit of several weeks would be sufficient for you to snare a husband on your own, if, indeed, you can ever manage to do so. Nevertheless, with so little time left before June first, arranging an advantageous marriage for you may be the only option remaining to me. Indeed, had I thought you old enough…Ah, but I have already neglected the matter too long.”

“Not Sir Renfrew!”

“No, I am not so cruel, lass, nor would Scottish law allow me to arrange any marriage to which you objected. But if you are willing…I had thought the cause lost, you see,” he added quietly. “But it is quite true that arranging a marriage for you could well prove the one route by which I can still win free. It occurred to me some time ago that there is a family that might be willing to ally itself with ours.”

“What family? Who?”

“First, you must understand that the most important goal of such a marriage must be to pay off the debt to Sir Renfrew Campbell, and to do so in such a way that would prevent him from making further trouble for us.”

“He is very powerful,” Bridget said. “All the Campbells are powerful.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “They became so by siding with the English during the Risings, before you were born.”

“You were only a boy then, yourself,” she pointed out defensively.

“Yes, and our clan was not one that fought for the prince,” he said. “But neither did we fight against him or provide support of any kind to the English. Our isolation here helped us then. As to the Campbells, they were powerful before the Risings, and became more powerful afterward. That is why our wisest move now would be to ally ourselves with them if we can.”

“But you said—”

“I said I would not force you to marry Sir Renfrew. I don’t even propose to marry you to a Campbell, merely to ally ourselves with one of the most powerful of them all, a close connection of the Duke of Argyll.”

“But if he is not a Campbell, then how—”

“His guardian is the Earl of Balcardane,” Michael said, “but the lad, as it happens, is a distant kinsman of our own. He is the young MacCrichton.”

“Is he handsome?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I have never met him, but he is only four years older than you are, so I daresay you will deal well enough with him. If you really are willing, I could go to Balcardane Castle at once to put the matter to the earl. As you say, my title must be worth something. Moreover, I can offer to settle a third of my land on you, and to bequeath you the rest if I should die without issue.”

Her eyes widened. “All the land? To me? Can you do that?”

“Yes, because I agreed to break the entail when our father mortgaged everything with Sir Renfrew. The likelihood of your inheriting the estate is quite small, though, you know.”

“But even if they agreed to a marriage and repaid your debt, you would still be poor, and you would own a third less land than what you own now,” she pointed out, adding complacently, “so very likely you will never marry. How soon can we go to Balcardane Castle?”

“You are not going,” he said.

“Don’t be absurd. Of course, I must go.”

“You will do as I bid, Bridget. You will stay here.”

“But who will stay with me?”

“I’ll be gone only a day or two. If this weather holds, I can ride through Glen Tarbert to Loch Linnhe in the morning, take a boat across to Kentallen, and hire a horse at the inn. I should reach Loch Leven and Balcardane by midafternoon.”

“Well, I’m still going with you. You cannot leave me with only servants to look after me, Michael. What if something happens to you? What then?”

“Nothing is going to happen to me. You will stay here.”

“But I want—”

“By God, you will do as I tell you for once,” he roared, smacking the desktop with his hands as he rose to his feet “I’ve got half a mind to let Sir Renfrew have you, after all. Seek your room now, and do not let me see your face again before I leave in the morning.”

She hesitated, as if she meant to argue; then, muttering furiously to herself, she turned on her heel and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Michael looked at the dog, which had curled up on the hearthstones again. “Sometimes I wish I were a more violent man, Cailean,” he said quietly.

The dog’s tail thumped the floor, as if in agreement.

Fortunately for the earl’s continued calm, his sister did not show her face again before he and Cailean left Mingary for Appin Country the following morning. The sun was shining brightly; the breeze blew from the southwest and was strong enough to send his hired sailboat skimming across Loch Linnhe in good time. The landlord at Kentallen Inn was able to provide him with a good-looking black gelding at small cost, but that was the end of his good fortune for the day.

He saw Balcardane Castle’s famous square tower some time before he got near enough to see the whole castle, and his pulse quickened at the sight of it. He knew enough about the MacCrichton’s parentage to think the lad or his guardian might welcome the simplicity of an arranged marriage, and that thought sustained his optimism until sight of the massive castle planted solidly on the hillside above the rippling waters of Loch Leven reminded him in no uncertain terms of the power of its master. He realized that that power could mitigate the qualms that any noble father might have about allying a daughter with the questionable MacCrichton line.

Michael was glad he had brought along a miniature of his sister. Her beauty must count as a considerable asset, and any guilt he felt at not bringing her in person, he suppressed. His mission was difficult enough, for he knew that his pride might hinder his good intentions. One hint of Bridget’s temper, though, and all would fail.

His heart was pounding by the time he reached the tall double gate. One side opened enough to allow a lackey to emerge even as he drew rein.

“What will ye, sir?” the man asked, touching his cap politely.

“Pray, inform your master that the Earl of Kintyre seeks an audience with him on a matter of some import,” Michael said.

Seeing the lackey’s eyes widen, he realized that coming alone had been counterproductive, and wished he had been able to provide himself with a proper tale. On the other hand, he would then have had to hire horses for the others, as well, and he could not afford that. He held the lackey’s gaze with his own.

The man said ruefully, “’Tis a pity, me lord, but the master’s awa’. Ye’re welcome to Balcardane’s hospitality, but I canna give yer message to his lordship.”

“When will he return?”

The lackey seemed to measure him for a long moment. Then he gestured toward the inner courtyard. “Will ye enter, me lord? I’ll fetch our captain straightaway.”

Understanding that the man was reluctant to give information about his master’s plans to a stranger, Michael nodded and urged his mount through the open gateway.

Shutting the gate behind him, and dropping the iron bar into place, the lackey waited politely for Michael to dismount and precede him across the vast stone courtyard toward the stables.

Glancing around, Michael decided that an enemy hoping to take Balcardane during its master’s absence would be sorry to have made the attempt. Men at arms stood everywhere. Swords clashed in one corner of the yard, where a group sat watching two men practice their skill. He counted at least twenty others in plain sight on the walls and in the courtyard, which told him there were undoubtedly at least three times that many on the premises. The ones he saw were well equipped and looked well fed. The earl was clearly a man of extreme wealth and power.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” a large, muscular man said, approaching him. “I am Bannatyne, his lordship’s captain of guards. The lad tells me ye’re wishful to see his lordship.”

“Aye,” Michael said. “I come from Mingary, on the peninsula of Ardnamurchan. I can return another day, if necessary, but if his lordship means to return shortly, perhaps it would serve me better to stay here.”

“I cannot say when he will return,” Bannatyne said, watching him narrowly.

“I understand your reluctance,” Michael said. “I should be wroth with any man of mine who revealed my whereabouts or intentions to a stranger. The matter I wish to put to his lordship is one of some import, however. It concerns young MacCrichton, as well. Is it possible that they have traveled to his estates?”

“The family departed for London some days ago,” Bannatyne said, evidently making up his mind to trust him with that much information. “For the Season.”

“Devil a bit,” Michael said, his mind beginning to race. The most likely reason for Balcardane to take the young MacCrichton to London was to introduce him to society, and the most likely reason for that was to arrange his marriage. There was no time to be lost. “Thank you. I shan’t trouble you for hospitality. If I hurry, I can still make it back across Loch Linnhe before dark.”

It was late when Michael returned, so he did not see his sister till the following morning. When she hurried into his bookroom after breakfast, he looked up from the work on his desk to greet her with a wry smile.

“Good morning, Bridget.”

“I did not think you would be back so soon, Michael. What did they say?”

“They said nothing at all,” he replied. “They have gone to London.”

Her face fell ludicrously. “Oh, no! How horrid! Now, what shall I do?”

“Did you want me to succeed, then? I should not have guessed it”

“Well, to speak truly, I don’t know what I want, but it seems a shame that we shall never know if I might have married Lord MacCrichton. He is rich, is he not?”

“Aye, although I do not yet know the full extent of his fortune,” Michael said. “As to our never knowing if he will have you, I cannot predict that either.”

“I don’t understand you. Why are you looking so oddly at me?”

“Well, I was just wondering if you still want to visit Edinburgh.”

“If I—Merciful heaven, sir, do not tease me! You know I wish it above all things. Do you mean to take me, after all? Oh, Michael, say that you do!”

“I am inquiring presently into numerous possibilities,” he said. “I’ve written a letter to Aunt Marsali that I will send with a runner to Fort William for the first post to Edinburgh, and if you will grant me a few minutes’ more peace, I mean to finish this letter to go with the same runner.”

“But you said that you have no money!”

“I am going to sell Glenmore a dog,” Michael said evenly.

“The Earl of Glenmore? But you said he would take only—”

“—only Cailean, that’s right.” Michael glanced at the great dog, which lifted its ears and began thumping its tail at hearing its name. Ignoring the sick feeling in his midsection, he said, “The sum he has offered won’t repay the debt to Sir Renfrew, but I believe it will be enough to take the three of us to London in style.”

“London!” Bridget stared at him in astonishment. Then, as if fearing to put the matter to a test, she turned and left the room without another word.

Glen Moidart

Near Ardmolich

Later That Same Morning

W
HEN THE BELL RANG
to announce that his men were ready to tap the iron, Sir Renfrew Campbell looked around his newest bloomery with satisfaction. The iron ore from England had made it safely from his wharf at Abernish to the smelter in the lush forest that had once belonged to the MacDonnells and which was now part of his own vast, sprawling estate. Sir Renfrew was one of the largest landholders in the Western Highlands. Much of his property—from its northern boundary on the original MacDonnell estate near Arisaig, which he had inherited from his mother, to the east as far as Glen Finnan and to the south as far as Glen Tarbert—was heavily timbered. A grateful government had awarded the estates to him for his Campbell loyalty after the failed Rising twenty years before.