The Campbell Trilogy (10 page)

“Two older brothers. His elder brother Colin, who was only a lad himself on the death of their father, became Campbell of Auchinbreck. Their mother had passed the year before, and Argyll held their father in the highest esteem. Like Jamie, his father was a trusted captain. He fell at the battle at Glenlivet, taking a shot meant for Argyll, and the earl will never forget it. Jamie is like a brother to him. Argyll values his opinion above all others.”

The bond between Jamie and his cousin went far deeper
than she’d realized. “From what I’ve heard, I’m surprised that the earl takes advice from anyone.”

Meg grinned. “Oh, he’s not that bad.”

Caitrina lifted her brow skeptically.

Meg chuckled at her expression. “He’s better than the alternatives of Mackenzie or Huntly.”

Jamie had said much the same thing. Listening to Meg, Caitrina realized just how little she knew of the issues plaguing the Highlands. Embarrassed by her ignorance, she changed the subject. “You said there were two brothers. What of the other?”

Meg’s face clouded. “Jamie doesn’t talk about him much. Though you might have heard of him.” She gave Caitrina a hard stare, as if debating whether to say more. She looked around, making sure they would not be heard, but everyone else was focused on the contest. Only four men remained: Rory MacLeod, Jamie Campbell, Torquil MacNeil, and Robbie Graham. Nerves too frayed to watch, Caitrina was glad of the distraction. Meg continued in a low voice. “His eldest brother, Duncan, is a bastard born. He was their father’s favorite and despite his birth had been named a captain, but he was disgraced after the battle of Glenlivet years ago. His treachery was blamed for Argyll’s defeat, and he was forced to flee Scotland. He’s called Duncan Dubh.”
Duncan the Black.
Her eyes widened. The Black Highlander? Meg smiled wryly. “Aye, he’s made quite a name for himself on the continent. But the scandal hit Jamie particularly hard; from what I hear, they were very close.” Meg’s expression lightened with amusement. “But no one will ever confuse Jamie with his brother.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whether you agree with him or not, no one can say he doesn’t follow the law.”

Though she’d said it jokingly, Caitrina wondered if there was more truth to Meg’s comment than she realized. Was that what drove him? “And his sister? She is married?”

Meg smiled and shook her head. “Not yet. It will be an impressive man who can please both her brothers and her cousin. Jamie mentioned that Elizabeth will be joining him at Dunoon soon with the earl.”

Argyll, she knew, was the keeper of the royal castle of Dunoon. The earl had numerous castles, including his Lowland stronghold, Castle Campbell, and his Highland stronghold of Inveraray Castle.

Embarrassed by how much she’d revealed by her questions, Caitrina fell silent, her attention returned again to the field—just in time to see MacNeil’s arrow land wide of the mark. He was the farthest away, but she could see the anger and bitter disappointment on his face. He’d acquitted himself well, dangerously well for her comfort, but clearly he’d intended to win. Caitrina felt a twinge of guilt, realizing that perhaps she’d been unfair. She’d treated MacNeil’s offer lightly, but it had obviously meant a great deal to him. Later, she’d find him and apologize.

Robbie Graham shot next, and his arrow landed on the lower right edge of the target. A superb shot from that distance, which was probably at least one hundred paces by now. Rory MacLeod stepped forward. It was clear the crowd sided with him. They swayed as he drew the arrow back, holding their collective breath as he released and …

Thump.
A great cheer rang out. The arrow had landed in the center circle near the middle of the target. It would take a perfect shot to beat him.

Caitrina could feel the restless tension build around her as Jamie raised his bow and took aim. She couldn’t breathe. It was almost as if she knew what was going to happen. His confidence left no room for failure. The arrow flew, and she didn’t even look. Her eyes were fastened on Jamie. The gasp of the crowd would have been enough, but at the moment of victory he turned and looked right at her, his eyes pinning her to the ground. Her heart jumped to her throat. The deep, penetrating stare seemed to see everything,
seeing her turmoil, seeing things that she didn’t want him to see.

Only after his men and the MacLeods had moved to congratulate him did she glance at the target. He’d hit a perfect bull’s-eye.

While he was occupied with his men, Caitrina took the opportunity to make her escape. She knew he’d come looking for her, and it might be cowardly, but her nerves were so raw that she didn’t think she could take one more confrontation with Jamie Campbell.

Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Not ready to return to the castle and wanting to avoid the crowd, she veered off the path and wandered through the trees toward the loch. There was a small inlet on the eastern edge that was a favorite fishing spot of her brothers. She would relax there for a while until she could sort through the jumble of emotions twisting her stomach in knots.

She was so rattled by what had just happened that it took her a moment to realize someone was following her. She heard a noise, the crush of a branch underfoot, and spun around to look behind her—but didn’t see anyone. Her pulse spiked and the hair at the back of her neck rose.

“Who’s there?” she asked, her voice wavering as she scanned the trees.

But there was no answer. Icy droplets of fear trickled down her spine. Something didn’t feel right. She hadn’t gone that far, but with all the noise, would someone hear her? Jamie’s warning about outlaws came back to her.

She had opened her mouth to cry for help when a man stepped out from behind a tree in a ray of sunlight not five feet away.

She exhaled with relief, recognizing Torquil MacNeil right away.

“My laird, you startled me.”

The sun was behind him and she couldn’t see his face clearly, but anger seemed to radiate from him. “I trust you found the competition entertaining,” he said, his voice holding the edge of a sneer.

“No, I—” She twisted her hands, not knowing what to say. He stepped closer, close enough for her to see the fury marring his handsome features. She’d hurt his pride; she must try to soothe it. “I want to apologize—”

“You tricked me.”

Though he sounded somewhat like a petulant child, Caitrina reached out and put her hand on his arm. “It was wrong of me, and I deeply regret doing so.”

He gave her an uncertain look. “You do?”

She nodded and smiled up at him encouragingly. “You acquitted yourself extremely well today.”

For a moment he puffed up a bit under her obvious admiration, then he frowned. “But I didn’t win.” His face darkened. “That Campbell bastard did.”

Jamie Campbell, Jamie Campbell … If she never heard his name again, it would be too soon. She studied MacNeil’s face; he was undeniably handsome, yet for some reason he did not rouse the same fluttering in her stomach or make every nerve ending stand on edge—a fact that only served to irritate her further. A streak of recklessness that she didn’t even know she possessed took hold. There was nothing special about Jamie Campbell, and she was going to prove it.

She put her hand on his shoulders, lifted up on her tiptoes, and pressed her mouth against his in a light kiss. And felt precisely … nothing. Not the merest stirring or faintest yearning or anything. His lips were soft and he tasted pleasant enough, but he did not drown her senses in heat or make her body heavy and sensitive.

Furious, she pressed a little closer, trying to find the spark. He groaned, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her against him. She felt the power of his body, the
muscles and the strength, but she did not feel like melting into him at all. Being pressed against him only filled her with unease. It was nothing like she’d felt in Jamie’s arms.

Damn him.

This wee experiment had failed miserably.

MacNeil pulled her tighter, and his mouth grew demanding as he tried to ply her lips apart. She felt a flash of alarm. Somehow she’d lost control of the kiss.

She pulled her mouth from his, gasping for air. “Please let go of me.”

His eyes were dark with lust. “I don’t think so, my sweet. I’m not a man to be made the butt of some silly chit’s jest.”

Too late, she realized she’d miscalculated. Jamie’s warning came back to her. Perhaps this had been MacNeil’s intention all along. Foolishly, she’d just helped him to it.

She tried to wrench free, but he was too strong. He might be young, but he had the physical strength of a seasoned warrior, a fact that was only now impressed upon her. His mouth descended on hers again, and his kiss turned brutal and punishing. Revulsion crawled up the back of her throat, and fear unlike anything she’d ever experienced crashed over her.

Dear God, what have I done?

She struggled against him, using every ounce of her strength, but it wasn’t enough.

Panic had started to set in when she suddenly found herself free, staring into the steely blue eyes of Jamie Campbell. Except that his eyes weren’t steely at all, but ice cold with rage. Her heart skipped a long beat, realizing what she was seeing. Danger. Rage. Fierceness to make her blood run cold.
This
was the man who struck fear across the Highlands.

Jamie was out of control. Possessed by a black rage that was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The sight of
Caitrina in another man’s arms had unleashed something primitive in him; the sight of her struggling had unleashed something murderous.

It was only by chance that Jamie had caught sight of MacNeil as he’d stalked away from the field of play. He had a hungry, predatory look in his eyes that made Jamie’s instincts flare. He’d followed the young warrior at a distance, not surprised to see him confront Caitrina. Jamie had been about to intervene when he’d seen her slide her arms around MacNeil’s neck and press her lips to his.

It stopped Jamie cold. Everything went black as he fought to absorb the crushing blow. It felt as if he’d been walloped by a heavy taber across the chest.

Mine.
The visceral claim resounded through him, permeating every fiber of his being.

What the hell did she think she was doing?
Caitrina was his, but she was kissing another man. Then it changed. He saw her try to push him away, saw the look of determination on the other man’s face, and Jamie saw red, the roar in his ears deafening. He closed the distance between them in a matter of seconds and tore her from MacNeil’s arms, striking his fist into the other man’s jaw with the force of a smith’s hammer, hearing the satisfying crunch. The next blow landed in MacNeil’s stomach, making him keel over.

“What are you doing?” MacNeil said, gasping for breath.

“You damn bastard! The lass is not willing.”

MacNeil wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, trying to stay the gush of blood from Jamie’s first blow. “She was willing enough. She kissed me, or didn’t you see?” He gave Caitrina a leering glance. “I was only giving her what she begged for—”

Jamie’s fist cut off the offending words. But the other man was ready. When he’d been bent over, he’d managed to slide a dirk from his side and now plunged the blade
toward Jamie’s gut. Jamie spun to the side, avoiding the blow, and caught the other man’s wrist in his hand, turning until he heard bone crunch and the blade slipped from his grasp. After kicking it out of the way, he hit him again, and this time MacNeil dropped to the ground.

Slowly, he tried to pull himself up. Jamie made a move toward him, intent on finishing him off, when Caitrina stepped in front of him.

“Don’t.” She put her hand on his arm, forcing him to look at her. Bloodlust still pounded through his veins, and it took a moment for his gaze to clear. “You’ll kill him.”

“It’s no more than he deserves,” Jamie said through clenched teeth.

“Please.” She stepped closer, her sweet floral perfume drowning out the primitive stench of battle. She looked as if she were about to cry; unshed tears sparkled in her eyes, and her mouth trembled. “Not for me.”

Jamie stood stone still, muscles clenched, every instinct clamoring to finish what he’d started. He gazed down at her face, and the gentle plea worked its soothing magic.

He drew back, raking his hand through his hair. What the hell had just come over him? He’d never felt like that. He was always under control.
Always.

He turned to MacNeil, who’d managed to right himself again. “Get out of here. If I see you near her again, I’ll kill you.”

Realizing how close he’d just come to suffering that fate, MacNeil mustered what dignity he could manage and ran, disappearing through the trees.

Caitrina collapsed against him, and his chest squeezed so tightly that it felt as if it were burning. Just for a moment, he let himself savor the sensation of her gratitude, of her need for him. “Thank you.” She lifted her watery gaze to his. “I was so scared.”

His temper had cooled, but not completely. He wanted
to kiss her senseless and punish her for tormenting him like this. When he thought of what could have happened … It made him ill.

“He deserved worse for what he attempted. What if I hadn’t arrived when I did?”

The color slid from her face.

At least she realized how close she’d come to rape. He took her by the shoulders and forced her gaze to his. “What did you think you were doing, toying with him like that?”

“I didn’t mean …”

“Then what did you mean?” The odd tightness in his chest returned. “God’s wounds, Caitrina, I saw you kiss him.”

Her eyes flashed and she lifted her chin to meet his gaze. After what had just happened, he had to admire her spirit.

“It’s all your fault.”

His jaw slackened. “My fault?”

“You should never have kissed me.”

All of a sudden, he understood. He couldn’t believe she could be that naïve. “So this was some damn experiment?” When he thought of how she could have been hurt … “Don’t you know what might have happened?”

Her face burned with humiliation. “I just wanted to stop seeing your face.”