Tender Feud
Abruptly, Katrine yanked her thoughts in line. She shouldn’t be entertaining such foolish notions. She couldn’t possibly want him to touch her, couldn’t possibly be attracted to this man. He was the MacLean of Ardgour, and they were destined to be enemies. Their clans had been feuding for centuries, just as the Scots and the Sassenachs had been locked in mortal strife for an eternity.
It was this reflection about the English that made Katrine recall what she had wanted to ask about his ward. Her gaze strayed again to Raith as he watched the sunrise.
“How long has Meggie been unable to speak?” Katrine asked, glad for a reason to change the subject.
Raith didn’t seem to hold the same opinion for he frowned and didn’t reply.
In the resulting silence, Katrine studied him. His midnight black hair was the same shade as Meggie’s, and there was a slight resemblance in their facial features.
“Is Meggie your daughter?” she asked suddenly, curious to know what Raith’s relationship was to the young girl.
He darted a sharp glance at her, his eyes narrowing. “No, Meggie is not my daughter.”
Katrine took exception to his fierce tone. “It wouldn’t be a disgrace to father a sweet child like that. Indeed, your cousin told me illegitimacy doesn’t have the stigma here that it does in England.”
Raith’s jaw hardened at her annoying frankness. “I haven’t fathered any living bairns that I’m aware of. My wife died in childbed.”
“Oh.” She regarded him solemnly, suspecting that he didn’t like to discuss his wife. “I’m sorry.”
The irritation on his face softened only a degree. “I suppose Meggie is a niece of sorts. Her mother was a cousin of mine, several times removed.”
“Was it long ago that Meggie lost her parents?”
“Lost her mother. Her father was already dead. Shot as a traitor before Meggie was even born.”
“Very well then, lost her mother. How old was she?”
“Five.”
“Did the soldiers…did they…” Katrine faltered, unable to form the question.
“Did they violate her the way they did her mother? No, Miss Campbell.” His tone was low and fierce. “But they abused her all the same, before her kin arrived to avenge her. The bloody whoresons paid with their lives, but Meggie was left the way she is today.”
Katrine stared at Raith, finding it sickening even to imagine the horror the child had been subjected to. “Someone—someone should try to help her.”
“It isn’t your concern,” he replied, a scowl on his face as he sat up abruptly. “I warned you to stay away from Meggie. She doesn’t need to be reminded of what the Sassenachs did to her mother, and your mere presence in the house is cause enough.”
Katrine’s back stiffened at the inference. “It’s cruel of you to eq
uate me with those soldiers…those animals…or to suggest that I would ever condone such a heinous crime, especially against a child. No civilized person would.”
“Oh? You English—you Campbells—” He slowly enunciated the two names, as if uncertain which was the more despicable to assign to her. “You civilized folk have peculiar notions about what constitutes heinous. Treachery and murder, that’s condoned, but you balk at brutality against children? Well, tell that to Meggie, Miss Campbell. Tell that to all the Scots children who ever saw their homes torched or felt the edge of an English sword. Or all the ones who ever suffered at the hands of a Campbell. The numbers are legion, I assure you.”
Katrine found herself shrinking away from him; the fierceness in his expression actually frightened her. But there was no point in continuing this discussion or trying to defend herself from his hatred. Raith MacLean would never see her as anything but a blood enemy who wasn’t to be trusted.
“When do you intend to negotiate my release?” she asked stiffly, raising her chin.
“When it suits me!” Raith snapped in reply.
Katrine stared at him, at his smoldering eyes, and wondered just what he meant. Then a thought abruptly occurred to her. If the Laird of Ardgour had been linked with her abduction, then Cair House would at least have been visited by some of her uncle’s men, or by the English soldiers that Raith held in such aversion. She wasn’t aware of any such visits—although even if there had been, she surely would have been locked out of sight before they arrived. Yet it was clear to her now that Raith had no intention of claiming responsibility for her abduction, had never had any such intention.
“My uncle doesn’t even know you’re the one responsible, does he?” Katrine asked in dismay.
“I should hope not.”
“And the militia? They don’t know, either, who abducted me?”
“Doubtless they have their suspicions. My clan and I were invited to pay a call on the garrison commander at Fort William the other day, but I expect I satisfied his concerns.”