Beloved Highlander

And so he had.

When Gregor’s sentence was read, stating he be sent to the American plantations as indentured labor, the general moved heaven and earth, and somehow found a sympathetic ear. Gregor was pardoned and released. He was free. Even if freedom hadn’t meant very much to him then, with time he came to realize that the general might well have saved his life.

A fair exchange.

“Captain?”

Gregor blinked, looked down at the curious face turned to his. Meg was watching him, and he wondered how long he had been standing here in the shadows, lost in the past.

Her green silk gown shivered with color and light, as though she were under the ocean. With her hair and her strange, pale eyes, she was even more like a mermaid than before.

“Morvoren.”

“Captain Grant?”

He had not realized he said it aloud. Embarrassed, bemused, he shook his head. He was tired, that was all. It had been a long, long day and his arm was aching. He needed to get this over with so that he could sleep. Tomorrow did not promise to be any easier, but it may feel so if he was rested.

“My father awaits within,” she was reminding him. “Are you ready?”

Gregor nodded, and she reached for the door and opened it, and led him quietly into the room.

Chapter 12

Inside the general’s room it was dim, with only a single branch of candles. There was a meager fire in the hearth, and the window was ajar, the smell of the glen wafting in. The man who sat by the sill was not stooped; he sat straight as a poker, his gray head turned slightly toward the sound of their entry.

“Meg?” he said, and his voice was so familiar Gregor felt dizzy. As if he were walking on some uneven, unsafe surface that might at any moment give way and plummet him down into darkness.

“Yes, father. I have Captain Grant with me.”

“Good, good. Bring him here to me.”

Meg glanced back at Gregor, where he stood just inside the door, and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Captain Grant?” He realized then that he was behaving strangely, and followed her down the long room.

“Your daughter tells me you haven’t been well, sir,” he spoke as he drew closer. “I am sorry to hear that.”

The face turned to his went still with shock, and then all its creases and grooves deepened in a broad, beautiful smile. “Gregor! I’d know your voice, even now.”

“I hope it’s deepened a wee bit, sir.”

He had reached the general now, and looking down into his face realized he might be more worn—older certainly—[ ]but he was still the same man he had been twelve years ago. The blue eyes turned up to his were staring directly at him.

“I am grateful that you have come back to Glen Dhui with my daughter. Meg? Have you informed him of our problems?”

He turned, head cocked to one side, listening rather than looking for Meg. The action was unusual and Gregor frowned, suddenly watchful.

Meg took a step forward, brushing her fingers against her father’s shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “I am here, father. And yes, I have told him.”

“Good, good.” The general nodded and then sighed. He looked up at Gregor again, but now his gaze was slightly to one side of Gregor, aimed beyond him, into the corner of the room.

“I dinna realize,” Gregor said hoarsely. “I am so sorry, sir. I dinna realize you could not see….”

The general lifted a hand to stop him. “A foolish complaint, Gregor. It began as a cloudiness, a fine mist across my sight, but as time passed it grew thicker. I am in a permanent fog now, but I have my memories, and they are as clear to me as they ever were.”

“Father,” Meg began gently, “what is it you have to say to Captain Grant? It is very late, and the day has been a long one.”

The general nodded. “Very well, Meg, very well. Do not be impatient, girl. I will speak to Gregor alone.”

Her pale eyes narrowed. “I think it is my right to hear what you have to say,” she said woodenly.