Beloved Highlander

“Barbara Campbell, Father. She was resting in my room.”

“Well, when I heard this Barbara screaming, I went out onto the landing with my sword. I waved it about in the direction of their voices, so that they would think I could see them. For a time they believed me, but then I mistook the sounds they were making and they realized I am only an old, blind man.” He looked as if he might cry. “If only I could see again. If only I were of some use to you all!”

“You are of use!” Meg cried fervently. “How can you say such a thing, Father? I have never heard of anything braver than what you did! One man against so many—and yes, a blind man. You are a hero—everyone in Glen Dhui will say so, and they will be right.”

The general’s gloomy expression lifted, and he managed a shaky smile. “So I am a hero, eh, Meg?”

“Yes, Father, you are.”

“Oh, Meg, I thought it was you they had….”

She went into his arms, and they were quiet, just relieved to be safe and together. After a time the general sighed and released her. “You are a good girl, Daughter. After I…after my act of heroism,” he said wryly, “Alison told me you’d ridden off and they were all looking for you. Gregor found you, didn’t he? You should always look to him when there is trouble—he will never let anything happen to you. You know that, Meg, don’t you?”

Meg stared back into her father’s blind, blue eyes, so very like her own. “I do, Father.”

“Lady Meg?” Alison had come into the room behind her, dark eyes intent. “Some of the men who rode after Lorenzo have returned. They say that Lorenzo is taking Barbara Campbell south, onto the Duke of Abercauldy’s estate.”

Meg’s heart sank. As much as she disliked Barbara Campbell, she had to feel sorry and concerned for the other woman. Barbara, whatever her shortcomings, didn’t deserve this. She had come to Glen Dhui Castle for sanctuary, and instead had been kidnapped by strangers. And what would happen to her once Lorenzo and the Duke realized their mistake, if they hadn’t already? Would they vent their anger and frustration upon her? Would they hurt her, or worse?

“What will we do?” she asked aloud.

The general’s eyes were closed, and it was Alison who answered.

“I dinna know about that, my lady, but ye must be tired and hungry. I have supper ready.”

Meg managed a smile. Heartless as it seemed, she realized she was ravenous. From long experience, Meg knew she would be able to think much better if she had something in her stomach.

“Will you eat with us, Father?” Meg turned to the general, but he shook his head.

“I will sleep, I think, Meg,” he said in a fading voice. “Now that I know you are safe, I feel the need to sleep.”

Meg kissed his cheek and followed Alison from the room. Gregor was standing in the Great Hall, several men gathered about him.

For a moment Meg paused, looking down, selfishly enjoying the sight of him. With his hair loose about his shoulders and his shirt barely disguising his muscular chest, while the faded kilt showed off his trim hips and long, strong legs, he was certainly a sight to behold. After their time in the cave, Meg knew she would never doubt him, or run from him, again.

There was a certain, quiet grimness about the group around him, and it made Meg pause in her pleasant thoughts, a terrible premonition coming to her.

He wouldn’t!

But she knew he would. Because it wasn’t really a premonition, it was a deep knowledge of the man, of Gregor Grant. Emptiness opened up inside Meg, and she felt suddenly so dizzy that she had to grip the wooden railing.

As if sensing her gaze, Gregor looked up and met her eyes. His expression told her what she already knew. He was not the sort of man who would let a woman be hurt if it was in his power to save her. Even a woman like Barbara Campbell.

“They are taking her to Abercauldy,” Gregor said.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I must try to get her back, safely.”

Of course he must. So Gregor would go to Abercauldy, who already hated him, and plead for the life of a woman he did not even like, who had betrayed him and manipulated him and hurt him. He may well die by Abercauldy’s hand, or that of his men. It was possible that Meg may never see him again.

It was on the tip of her tongue to plead for him not to go, to beg him to think of himself, of her…but she didn’t. Meg had learned enough of the

Highlands and its proud men to understand that honor was prized very highly, sometimes more highly than life itself. And if Gregor did not go to Barbara Campbell’s aid, if he stayed at home and let her die, then his honor as a laird and a man would be worth nothing.

“When will you go?” she asked quietly.

Her question made him smile, but there was no humor in it. “At dawn.”