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Authors: Evelyn Anthony

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BOOK: Clandara
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He had come back to Dundrenan and thrust past them without waiting to answer their questions, and the door of his room shut with a crash that rattled the silver on the table where his family were sitting to dine. And that night Hugh heard him cursing, walking up and down in his room behind the door which no one dared to open, cursing and muttering to himself. And when he came down in the morning, the devil was back in him again; the old fierce light gleamed in his eye and the ugly, quarrelsome sneer was on his mouth again. As Hugh remarked, brother James was back to his old self, and life would be a deal less tranquil.

“James,” his father said at last. “We'll halt at the Black Rock tonight. There are some crofts which can give us shelter and the men can camp and provide for themselves in the glen.”

“As you wish,” he answered. “I see no reason why we can't march through the night. We're not a lot of women that we can't lose a few hours' sleep!”

“We need food, and while you're on horseback, the rest of our people have been walking the last twenty miles. We stop at the Black Rock,” his father snapped. He was suddenly so irritated with his son that he could have struck him. That damned woman, that redheaded bitch … She had ruined his son, his favourite son if he were honest, for he found David too stupid and brutish and Hugh too sinister. Sir Alexander was not deceived by James's silence nor by the aggressive way in which he answered even the simplest question. He knew his son. He had been amused by his dissipations and his quarrels when he was a boy and proud of his ferocity and his courage when he became a man. But what he saw now was a man fighting the world and himself with it. And all on account of a woman. His patience suddenly came to an end.

“James, where did you go off to the night before last?”

He turned in his saddle to look at his father, and his black eyes were red-rimmed and burning.

“I went to Clandara, as you know very well,” he said. “There was something that had to be done before I could come with you.”

“I hope you did it,” the old man said dryly. “But from the misery in your heart, I doubt you had the sense. If you went to see
her
, as I know you did, I only hope you took advantage of the situation to rid yourself of the taste for her once and for all!”

“Father,” James answered him. “Rape is not the cure for everything. I'm surprised you haven't learnt that.”

“It's the best cure I know for an obsession like yours,” his father retorted. “There's only one way to find out that one woman is much like another and that's to try her. More fool you if you risked your neck for nothing. I've no patience with you!”

“I've asked for none,” his son replied. “I feel for her as she feels for me. And that's an end to it.”

“Tenderly, I trust?” Hugh had ridden close up behind them and he grinned.

“You may be my brother,” James said very quietly. “But watch your tongue. You're a bonny swordsman, especially when it's from behind, but you're no match for me!”

“Keep your fighting for the English,” the old Chief snapped. Hugh shrugged and dropped his horse back to a level with his father.

“You know, he'd draw on me,” he said. “He's never forgiven me for killing the Fraser. Now there's ingratitude for you, Father! If I hadn't done it he might just as well have been killed. You never saw anything like him, dancing and dawdling about as if he were holding a needle instead of a sword.”

“He's out of his head,” the old man said. “From the moment he saw that cursed girl, he's been possessed. No women, no trips into Inverness any more with you and David. Good Christ, he lived like a monk for a whole year, and then he strips Dundrenan of its treasures to furnish Kincarrig for her. And what is the end of it all? Eh? What is the end? Her brother turns out to be a traitor and a coward and we have to put an end to him … not that it came very hard on
you,”
he added and Hugh made him a little bow from the saddle. “Then Clandara lodges a complaint against us and the wedding is off. That's one good thing, at least. But Kincarrig burnt out – Bah, wait till this war's over! What do you think happened when he went there?”

“I think she spat in his face,” Hugh said. “That's my judgment of her. I also think she's less bitter than he thinks or she'd have found some way to have him taken. They served poor Donal” a bonny turn when he went there. James was lucky to return at all.”

“He'll recover,” the old man said. “All this is just the heat of the moment. He'll cool. He'll cool when he joins with the Prince and has a few women and gets the taste of battle. That's all James needs. He'll forget her then and be himself again.”

“Maybe,” Hugh said softly. “Maybe. I hope you're right, Father, but I'm not so confident. He loves her still, whatever he says to the contrary. I doubt if he'll forget her as long as he lives.”

Prince Charles Edward entered the city of Perth with one golden guinea in his pocket at the head of an army of Camerons and the Macdonalds of Keppoch, Tirnadris and Glengarry; and to the joy of his men the Prince wore the kilt and kept them company on foot. He was anxious to prove himself as hardy as they were, and he outmarched many of the strongest who had lived all their lives in the mountains.

His reception at Perth was a triumph. The people came out dancing and singing in the streets and the clan pipers played their ancient rants, extolling the glorious battles of the past, and everywhere the Prince looked the windows were full of women waving and throwing flowers down on the army as it marched below. For thirty long years Scotland had been subdued, and the memory of the executions and deprivations inflicted upon those who had rebelled for his royal father were still painfully fresh. History was not written in the Highlands so much as spoken and preserved in the songs of the clans, and children were brought up on the tales of the valour of their distant forefathers in the endless wars which ravaged the glens. The Prince spent the evening of September 4th in a house in the city and held what passed for a Court reception for the leading citizens of the town. By the end of that meeting his funds were increased by a promised five hundred pounds and every hour he received reports of men coming in from all over the Highlands to join him. On the following day Sir John O'Reilly brought the news that the Macdonald of Dundrenan and his clansmen were marching into the city.

James and his brothers walked behind their father as they entered the room which the Prince used as an audience chamber. It was full of candles, and a carved oak chair had been set up at one end with an improvised canopy of velvet hung above it. The room was full of people, all crowded round the young man who sat in the chair under the canopy, and, to the astonishment and delight of Alexander Macdonald, Prince Charles got up and came down the room to greet them. He was tall and slightly built with a rather round face, regular features and a clear, ruddy complexion; like so many of his ancestors he was a “Red” Stuart, with the deep brown eyes that sometimes accompany the colouring.

Father and three sons went down on their knees and Alexander kissed the hand the Prince held out to him and then presented his sons.

“Welcome.” Charles spoke with an accent so slight that it seemed like a lisp. It was already said of him that he was learning Gaelic and studying the ancient lore of his country. Generations of Royal Stuarts had given him his dignity and grace, but his mother, the Polish Princess, had added a touch of fiery temperament and extravagant gesture which escaped him when he was excited.

“My eldest son James, Your Royal Highness.” James met the younger man's eye for a moment and was surprised to see that in spite of the gracious smile he was being shrewdly examined.

“I have heard much of you,” Charles said. “There are already so many Macdonalds at my side that I have trouble in distinguishing them. But none so dark as you, sir, and your family.”

“And none so brave.” O'Reilly came up to them and bowed. “The Macdonalds of Dundrenan are rightly famous for their warlike spirit, Highness, and for their hospitality, as I know,” and his thin lips smiled at Sir Alexander.

“My heart is touched,” the Prince said gravely. “Believe me, gentlemen. I came home with nothing but my faith in Scottish loyalty, and within a month I have an army which grows greater every day. I hope to keep you close about my person. I am your Prince, but on the day we shall all stand together as soldiers, and we shall confer as soldiers, all men having a voice.”

The Macdonalds joined the crowd of people, while Charles went among them.

“He's a fine prince,” Sir Alexander said. “Fine manners and a real way with him. Look yonder: he's got the merchants and their wives simpering and blushing with contentment!”

“More than the merchants,” James remarked. “Lord George Murray is here; that means all the Atholls will be with us, and there's the Duke of Perth standing over there. The Prince has got the charm of the devil. I only hope he's got the devil's luck as well!”

“He's the Prince,” David Macdonald snapped. “That is enough for me and all loyal Scotsmen. How long must we stay here, Father? The Prince has done with us now …”

“You must stay while the Prince stays,” O'Reilly answered, “It is the custom to remain until Royalty leaves. This may not be Holyrood Palace yet, gentlemen, but this is the Court of the Regent of Scotland.”

“It's as well the Prince came,” Alexander Macdonald said. “The King would have less sway than this bonny prince with all the promise of youth to his advantage. If he stays on as Regent, that will be acceptable to all of us.”

“There are quite a few women here, I see.” Hugh had not spoken before. Of them all he was the least impressed. His natural cynicism accepted the gracious manners and flattering words of Royalty with reservations; all men are pleasing when they seek favours, and in his view the Prince was seeking the greatest favour from them all. He wanted their lives, their fortunes and the future of their estates in order to secure a throne. He could well afford to come a few steps to meet them, and speak a few soft words. He nudged James.

“Look over there, that's a bonny female! The blonde in the green dress …”

As if she knew that he was watching her, the pretty young wife of one of the city's most prominent lawyers glanced away from her husband, and seeing the handsome young man staring impudently at her, blushed and looked away.

“If you're looking for lechery, this isn't the place for it,” James said. “These are respectable women. What of Fiona Mackintosh? I thought you were quite taken by her; you've been over there visiting often enough in the past two months.”

“There's nothing like choosing a rich wife when the time comes to marry, and nothing better than finding a pretty one as well,” Hugh grinned at him. “We're not all fools like you, James, to lose your soul over one woman and then have her spit in your eye! As for lechery – what else are we to do before the fighting? Excuse me. I'm going to introduce myself.” He was gone before James could answer him, and within a few minutes James heard the sound of his brother's mocking laugh as he talked to the rather apprehensive lawyer, watching the lawyer's wife with the intensity of an animal stalking its prey.

James turned away and began a short conversation with O'Reilly about the number of their men and the arms they had brought with them. He was not really listening; he heard the Irishman's enthusiastic account of the strength of the Camerons and the petition which was still being pressed on the powerful chief of the MacLeods to join them. He answered mechanically, while the pain and anger grew in his heart at the mention of Katharine and the jeer with which Hugh had left him. To lose his soul over a woman. All through the long march to Perth, through nights spent sleeping in wretched crofts where the only light was from a smoking fire of peat, or lying wrapped in a plaid on the heather, Katharine's image had tortured him, driving away sleep, or filling what rest he got with dreams of savage sensuality and nightmare caricatures of that last meeting.

He believed that he had killed his love for her. He believed that he hated her, and for that at least he was grateful, but he could not rid himself of his desire, and that desire grew worse now that all sentiment for her was gone. His father had mocked him for not taking her, but not nearly as bitterly as he had mocked himself. His faith in her love had been destroyed by the blow she struck him. And yet the memory of her lips and the response which she had been unable to control in the garden at Clandara tore at him until he felt as if he would go mad. Lechery. The word stung him and brought him round so abruptly that he left O'Reilly in the middle of a sentence. “What else are we to do before the fighting?” Hugh was right. Hugh would seduce that simpering woman and climb into bed with her under her pompous husband's nose, while he remained alone, with nothing but his memories and his terrible regrets to warm him. He had not touched a woman except his perfidious love for more than a year. His taunt returned to him, as bitter an insult as he could offer her. “The poor strumpets in Edinburgh have better hearts than you …”

He walked over to Hugh and bowed curtly to the two startled members of respectable Perth society. He did not even trouble to address them. It was unlikely the woman would have heard him if he did; she was gazing at his brother with large, excited blue eyes. In vulgar soldiers' parlance, she was ready to lie down if he took off his hat.

“Brother,” James said, “I don't know your plans for this evening, but when we are dismissed from the Prince I have a mind to see something of the city!”

Hugh looked at him and a slow smile spread from his lips to his green eyes.

“I'm glad to hear it,” he said softly. “I thought you would be bored after a while, but not so quickly … Mistress Macpherson has very kindly invited me to dine. With Mister Macpherson, of course. I'm sure, madam,” he said, turning to the young woman, “you will excuse me if I decline so as to keep my brother company?”

BOOK: Clandara
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