Beloved Highlander

Shona’s soft heart could take no more. She reached out a sympathetic hand to pat Barbara’s shoulder, at the same time speaking firmly to Malcolm Bain. “That’s enough. Lady Meg would no’ be so cruel as to turn away a creature in distress.” She looked at Meg as she said it, convinced that Meg would do everything in her power to comfort Barbara Campbell.

Meg found she could not disappoint her. “No, of course I wouldn’t turn her away. You must come inside, Barbara, and rest your feet.”

Malcolm Bain gave a groan of disgust, while Kenneth rolled his eyes at his wife.

But Shona was smiling. “There, my poor lassie!” she said. “I knew that Lady Meg would not let ye down.” And she bustled ahead toward the castle, her arm around a delicately sniffling Barbara, with Kenneth trailing behind.

As Meg moved to follow, Malcolm Bain put out a hand to stop her.

“My lady, this isna a good plan,” he said with a quiet urgency. “Barbara Campbell is no sweet lassie. She has an eye to what’s best for Barbara, and she dinna care who gets hurt in the process.”

Meg managed a grave smile. The emptiness inside her had given way to a tentative hopefulness. Perhaps Gregor would not cast Meg aside for Barbara, perhaps he would realize it was with Meg that his real future lay.

Either way, it was up to Gregor to make the choice.

“Thank you, Malcolm, I understand what you’re saying,” she said, her decision made. “But it is for Gregor to say whether Barbara stays or no.” Yes, Gregor would decide his own future. And hers.

Malcolm heaved a sigh. “Aye, well…There’s something ye should mabbe understand about the lad, Lady Meg.” He looked uncomfortable. “He has a soft spot when it comes to the lassies. He canna be

ar to hurt a single one, however they might treat him in return. And Barbara Campbell is used to having her way with him; she’ll not give up without a fight. Trust me, m’lady, he needs ye to stand firm for him.”

Meg frowned. This did not sound like the Gregor she knew. Captain Gregor Grant of the Campbell Dragoons, shouting out orders, firing his pistol, waving his sword about? A soft spot when it comes to the lassies? Well, that was probably true, but why should he allow himself to be used if he did not wish it? After all, Meg reminded herself, stoking up her indignation, he had requested payment from her, when she asked for his help!

No, if Gregor allowed Barbara to have her way with him, then it must be because he wanted to. It was as simple as that. And if that was the case, it was best if Meg learn it as quickly as possible.

“Lady, dinna ye want him?” Malcolm Bain spluttered. “If ye want him, then ye need to send Barbara away. Now!”

Send Barbara away, when Gregor could very easily do it himself? Meg didn’t think so!

“I have to go,” Meg said, stepping around Malcolm Bain’s wide bulk. But as she moved toward the house, Meg remembered Duncan and their conversation, what seemed ages ago, in the herb garden. “Malcolm Bain, there is something you should know. I have heard…that is, I believe that you left a letter for Alison, when you went from Glen Dhui all those years ago?”

His craggy face creased in confusion at the change of subject, and then as quickly cleared. His blue eyes turned bleak. “Aye, so I did. I’d forgotten.”

“Well, for…for various reasons, the letter never reached Alison. She never received it.”

He stared at her. “Never reached her? Then she must have thought…She must believe I left her without a word.”

The pain in his voice struck a chord in Meg’s own aching heart. She reached out to grasp his arm, giving it a compassionate squeeze. “Yes, I think that is what she must believe, Malcolm. Perhaps that partly explains why she is still so angry.”

Anger pushed through the bleakness in his blue eyes. “Why did she no’ get the letter, Lady Meg? I gave it to Duncan to give to her.”

Meg tightened her grip on his arm, feeling the sudden rigidity of his muscles as the truth came to him. Rage and hurt burned in his eyes, and he was clearly longing to find Duncan and hurt him, too. But loyalty and obedience held him in place, rather than her feeble strength in comparison to his.

“I don’t want a fight between you and Duncan,” she ordered him firmly. “Do you hear me, Malcolm Bain? He loves his sister, he cares for her, he thought he was doing what was best for her. He is sorry now, and Alison will make him sorrier. Any words that need to be said about the letter should come from her.”

Gradually he began to relax a little, and then, to Meg’s surprise, he gave a hard laugh. “Aye, let Alison rip him up. She’ll tear him to pieces with that tongue o’ hers.”

Meg allowed her hand to drop. “I don’t envy him,” she agreed.

Malcolm Bain smiled, and now there was real anticipation in it. “Nor do I.”

“Well,” Meg glanced at the gray stone house. Barbara was in there. Waiting. “I’d better go and see to Barbara Campbell’s blisters.”

She had turned away when she heard Malcolm say behind her, “If Barbara is here, my lady, then Airdy will follow. And ye know what that means, don’t ye?”

“It is up to Gregor,” she repeated, over her shoulder, and kept on walking.

“No, lady,” Malcolm Bain called, “it is up to ye!”