“Let them laugh, love. For I cannot bear to let you leave my arms again.”
With that he walked into the great hall, still carrying Merritt in his arms, and approached the table where Upton and Dillon were seated.
The crowd fell silent, but around the room many heads craned for a better view.
“What is this?” Upton Lamont asked. “Has my daughter hurt herself?”
“Nay, my lord. But she was wounded by my brother’s words.” Shaw turned to Dillon. “It is true that I have always intended to pledge myself to the Church. But, like Sutton, I seem to have lost my heart to a Lamont. Merritt Lamont. And I would ask for her hand in marriage, and for your blessings upon that union, my brother.”
Astonished, everyone at table stared at Shaw and the lass in his arms.
“Do you know what you are saying?” Dillon thundered.
“Aye. I am declaring my love for Merritt Lamont.”
“And what of Father Anselm?”
“I will go to him and explain. Then I will return to claim the lass for my wife.”
“You would take my last daughter from my side?” Upton demanded.
“Nay, sir. If you agree, I will live with her here in Inverene House and continue Edan’s tutelage until he grows to manhood and can assume the leadership of his people.”
Merritt couldn’t hide her elation at his announcement. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she hugged him.
Upton glanced from Merritt to Shaw, and then to Dillon Campbell. “’Twould seem that the bonds between us grow stronger with each passing moment.”
“Aye.”
“Does this mean that you will grant your permission?” Shaw asked.
The two men nodded their heads. And while the entire assembly cheered wildly, Shaw set Merritt on her feet and bowed grandly over her hand. Above the din he muttered, “When the others have retired, I will come to you in your chambers and speak to you of my love.”
With a sly smile she whispered, “You will do more than speak of your love, Shaw Campbell. You will show me. For it will have to be enough to hold me until you return.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Two columns of mounted Highlanders awaited a signal from their laird. Sabina and her family stood in a tight circle, saying their last tearful farewells, while, at a nearby wagon, Astra issued orders as the last of her mistress’s trunks was handed up.
For long minutes Merritt clung to her older sister, allowing her tears to fall freely. “I cannot bear the thought of our separation.”
“Nor I, Merritt. My heart is breaking at the thought of leaving all of you, and my beloved Inverene House. But, though I tremble at the thought of what awaits me at the end of my journey, I must be with Sutton. Surely you know how I feel.”
“Aye.” Merritt’s gaze trailed Shaw as he made his way through the throng of villagers who had assembled in the courtyard in her eyes was a look of love. “It is strange how these feelings fill our lives. My heart will be empty until Shaw returns.”
“And mine is filled to overflowing,” Sabina whispered as she gave her sister a final kiss and allowed Sutton to lead her to her mount.
Shaw made his way to Merritt, who stood beside her father and brother. All through the night they had said their final, tender goodbyes in her chambers.
Shaw offered his hand to Upton Lamont, and then to his son. “Farewell, my friends.”
“When will you return?” the lad asked.
“I will be gone perhaps a fortnight, for the journey to the monastery of Saint Collum is a long one. But know that while I am gone, my heart is here with all of you.”
Shaw turned to Merritt, and a smile lit his eyes at the sight of her in feminine frills, with not a single weapon in view. Leaning close he whispered, “Have the Avengers been banished from the land?”
She glanced toward her sister, whose hand was held firmly in Sutton’s. “Aye, my lord. So it would seem.”
“Then farewell, my lovely avenger.” He lifted her hand and brushed his lips over the back of it.
She felt the heat dance along her spine. “Safe journey, Shaw Campbell. I am already impatient for your return.”
“No more than I, my love.”
Merritt felt a rush of pride at the sight of him, so tall and handsome, as he strode away. He was hers, her heart whispered. And soon he would be her husband, her lover, for a lifetime.
As he pulled himself into the saddle, Shaw was surprised to see his cousin standing in the courtyard. Clive wore no traveling cloak. Turning to Dillon, he called, “Is Clive not returning with us?”
“Clive has generously offered to remain here. In your absence he will tutor Edan, and offer a measure of safety to the Lamonts.”
“Why was I not told?”
Dillon gave him a gentle smile. “I went to your chambers last night to share the news. You were not there. And when I learned from old Astra that the lady Merritt’s chambers adjoin yours, I decided it best not to... disturb you.”
Shaw laughed. “A wise decision, my brother.” He watched as Clive crossed the courtyard to stand beside Upton Lamont and his children. “See to their safety until I return, cousin,” he called.
“Aye. I shall see to them.” Clive lifted a hand as the columns of soldiers began to move smartly away.
Shaw turned for a last glimpse of his beloved. She waved and forced a smile through her tears. Shaw’s gaze was drawn to the man beside her. In the sunlight, they stood in sharp contrast. Merritt’s hair glinted like fire. His cousin’s hair gleamed black as a raven’s wing.
“You are quiet, my brother.”
Shaw turned to his twin. “Aye. It was in this forest that I discovered I was a warrior.”
“So, now you have a fondness for fighting.”
“Nay.” Shaw glanced up at the thin rays of sunlight that filtered through the canopy of trees. “I will ever be repulsed by it. But evil must be stopped. And the villains I encountered in this forest were truly evil.” Despite his heavy traveling cloak, he shivered. “I feel their presence now, as if they were all around us.”
Sutton cast a sidelong glance at the underbrush. “Mayhap we are both fools, but I feel it, as well.”
The two had always known they shared a gift. At his brother’s ominous words, Shaw nudged his mount into a gallop and raced between the lines of soldiers until he reached Dillon. “Have some of your men ride ahead. I sense a trap.”
“But this forest is Campbell land. We are among our own kinsmen. They would not dare to attack their own laird.”
“Aye, that I know. But I tell you, Dillon, something is amiss.”
Before Dillon could issue a command, they heard a cry and watched as one of their soldiers took an arrow to the back and toppled from his horse. Amid a flurry of arrows from the trees overhead, a swarm of ragged men dropped to the ground brandishing swords and knives. The air was alive with the cries and screams of battle as horses fell, crushing their riders, and dust swirled around the figures of men who stood sword to sword.
“We must protect the lady Sabina,” Shaw cried. “For surely she is their target.”
At once Sutton and several soldiers formed a protective ring around the lass to ensure her safety.
As the battle continued, Shaw realized that he’d been wrong. These villains were not merely after Sabina. Seeing the number of men, and the quantity of weapons with which they were armed, he knew they had come prepared to eliminate an entire company of soldiers.
Though the villains were many, they were no match for the skilled warriors who fought beside Dillon Campbell.
Soon the ground beneath their feet ran red with blood. The grass was littered with the bodies of the dead and dying.
Out of the corner of his eye Shaw saw the leader, Lysander, lift a sword against Sutton. At once Shaw tossed his dirk. Though his aim was true, Lysander turned at the last moment, taking the dirk to his arm instead of his heart.
Cursing his luck, Shaw raced to his brother’s side.
When Lysander saw the two, his eyes widened. Then his lips curled into an evil smile. “So. It is as I was told. You two share the same face.”
“Who told you of us? Who is this Black Campbell, who bribed with gold our own kinsmen?” Shaw challenged as he thrust his sword, missing Lysander’s arm by a mere fraction.
The villain merely laughed and drove Shaw against a tree. Neatly dancing away, Shaw avoided a thrust that would have cost him his life.
“Answer me.” Shaw lunged, and this time his sword tip caught Lysander just above the heart.
Stunned and gravely wounded, the man cried out, then, clutching the blade that protruded from his flesh, he dropped to his knees. At once Shaw pulled his sword free and pinned the man to the ground by pressing his knee to his chest. Unsheathing a dagger he whispered, “Give me the name of the Black Campbell or my blade will slit your miserable throat.”
Lysander clutched his coarse tunic, which was quickly becoming saturated with his own blood. He knew the wound was mortal, and that his life was slowly ebbing. “It no longer matters,” he said with a harsh laugh. “You are too late to stop him. By the time you can return to Inverene House, he will have succeeded in killing all who dwell therein.”
“Inverene House?” As the truth dawned, Shaw cried, “God in heaven.” Visibly shaken, he scrambled to his feet. Turning to Sutton he cried, “I must ride to Inverene at once. The Black Campbell is there, intent upon killing the Lamonts.”
“Our cousin, Clive, will protect them,” Sutton said, hoping to soothe his brother’s fears.
“You do not understand.” Shaw pulled himself into the saddle. “How could we have been so blind? Clive is the Black Campbell.”
“I have read all of the Book of Proverbs. And these scrolls.” Edan hobbled toward a low shelf. Though he could take no more than a few steps before pausing to rest, he could hardly contain his joy at each small success.
“My cousin must have spent a great deal of time with you, if you are as proficient as you claim.”
“He spent more time with me than anyone ever has. He is a fine tutor.” With his back to Clive, Edan was unable to see the dark look that crossed the man’s face.
Edan picked up several scrolls and hobbled toward the table where he and Shaw had spent so many pleasurable hours poring over the Lamont family history. “Would you like me to read to you?”
“Aye. A fine idea.” Behind him, Clive touched a hand to the dirk at his waist. Oh, it had all been so easy. And now that he was in control, they were like lambs to the slaughter.
Without warning the door burst open and Clive whirled.
Merritt entered, followed by Astra and a serving wench. In her earnest attempt to prepare herself for her new role as wife and mistress of Inverene House, Merritt wore a new gown of emerald velvet, with a low, rounded neckline and narrow, tapered sleeves. The billowing skirt was gathered here and there with matching ribbons to reveal three petticoats beneath, each a lighter shade of green. Though the effect was stunning, it made walking perilous, and she found herself taking small, dainty steps. She was grateful that she no longer had need of a weapon, for the gown left no place on her person to conceal even a tiny dirk.
“I thought you and Edan might enjoy taking your midday meal here by the fire. Shaw often did, so as not to interrupt the flow of the lessons.”
“Then I shall do the same.” Clive watched as the servant set a silver tray on the table and poured wine into goblets.
“Will you stay and eat with us, Merritt?” Edan asked.
“If you like.”
“Nay,” Clive said quickly. Then, seeing the look that the old housekeeper gave him, he explained, “I am not yet accustomed to the tutelage given by my cousin. ‘Twill take a day or two before I determine just how much young Edan knows. I think ‘twould be better if we worked alone.”
“As you wish.” Merritt found this dour man a sharp contrast to the laughing, teasing man she loved. But he was, she reminded herself, Shaw’s trusted kin. She would give him the respect due him.
She crossed the room and touched a hand to her little brother’s shoulder. “Do not tire yourself, Edan. Promise me you will rest.”
“Aye,” the boy said distractedly.
With a kiss to his cheek, Merritt followed Astra and the servant from the room.
When they were alone Clive picked up a goblet and tasted the wine.
“Would you like me to read this scroll?” Edan asked.
“Aye. Read to me, lad.”
“The battle was in the year of our Lord...”
As the boy’s voice washed over him, Clive circled the room, draining the contents of his goblet. It would be an easy matter to torch such a place. The scrolls and books would burn quickly. He glanced up toward the massive wooden beams. They would take some effort, but it could be done. And when those in the surrounding villages saw the rubble that had once been Inverene House, they would know and fear the might and power of their new laird, the Black Campbell. And all would bend their knee and swear allegiance. Or share the fate of these fools. As for him, he would return to Kinloch House. It would suit his needs well. He’d spent a lifetime coveting the power and possessions of his cousins. And now, all would be his.
“What think you?” Edan asked.
“About what?” With an effort, Clive shifted his attention back to the lad.
“About the battle. Shaw said that a warrior can learn much by reading about past battles. For ‘tis the past that shapes our future.”
“Aye. ‘Tis so. We cannot escape our past.” Clive slipped the dagger from its place of concealment at his waist and held it up, so that the sunlight streaming through the windows glinted off the blade. He advanced on the boy, his eyes glittering with hatred. “Prepare to die, Edan Lamont. For the things of my past are about to strip your future from you forever.”
“I do not much care for Shaw’s cousin,” Merritt said to her father.
Upton tried to pull himself back from his own dark thoughts. He missed Sabina. And, though he was loath to admit it, he missed Sutton and Shaw. Especially Shaw. There was a wisdom and goodness in the lad far beyond his years.
“He will be good for Edan,” her father muttered. “The lad needs a man around.”
“He has a man,” Merritt said, closing her hand over his big, rough fist. “You, Father.”
“I meant one who is not too old and tired to share his life.”
“You are neither old nor tired. You are the best father in the world. And Edan is devoted to you. He spends hours going over the scrolls that describe your many battles.”
Upton beamed with pride. “Does he?” He tugged on his beard as a new thought struck. “Do you know that I have ne’er heard my own son read?”
“Would you care to?” Merritt asked.
Upton nodded. “Aye. I would like that very much.”
She caught his hand and helped him to his feet. “He and Clive are in Mother’s sitting chambers. You will be pleased to see how the servants have restored it.”
Edan stared in disbelief at the knife in Clive’s hand. ‘Why do you wish to kill me?”
Clive took a step closer, feeling a rush of power. “Because you are Upton Lamont’s only son. Your death will cause your father great pain.”
“Then it is my father you hate.”
“Aye.”
Edan’s mind was working frantically. Shaw had taught him that a truly great warrior, in order to best an opponent, should know the mind of that opponent. He needed to keep Clive talking. He swallowed and forced back the terror that threatened.
“But you never met my father before. How can you hate a man you do not know?”
“My father, Thurman, knew your father. And grew to despise him.”
“Why?”
Clive’s fury erupted. He grasped Edan by the front of his tunic and hauled him to his feet. “Stop asking foolish questions. I am weary of the sound of your voice. Now will you die, so that my mission can be fulfilled.”
As he lifted the dagger, Clive was stunned to feel a big hand at his shoulder, flinging him aside like a helpless whelp. He fell in a crumpled heap against the wall. His knife, he noted numbly, had slid across the floor, landing in front of the fireplace. In a daze he turned to see Upton Lamont on his knees cradling his son in his arms.
“You will leave my house at once,” Upton commanded. He continued to hold his son to his chest, as if to assure himself that Edan was truly unharmed. “Because you are kin to my daughters’ betrothed, I will let you live. But you are banished forever from Inverene House, and from Lamont land. If you return, you will forfeit your miserable life.”
“I understand... and obey.” Clive darted a glance at his knife, to gauge how many steps he would need to reach it. Drawing himself up to his full height, he started to cross the room.
Merritt, seeing the direction of his gaze, began to race toward him, cursing her useless gown and lack of weapon. “Nay, Father!” she shouted. “He is not to be trusted.”
But before she could reach him, Clive made a frantic dash and scooped up his knife. “Now,” he said, “we will see who gives the commands in Inverene House.”
“You have but one puny knife against three Lamonts?” Upton taunted as he rose up and started forward.
“One knife is more than enough, old man.” Clive lifted his hand above his head and took aim. “Since it is pointed at your beloved son’s heart. And hear me, Upton Lamont. When I toss my dirk, I never miss.”
Upton froze in his tracks. He cared not for his own life. But he could not bear the thought that his carelessness might cost the life of his children. “Let Edan and Merritt live,” he implored. “Take my life instead.”
“Do not tempt me, old man.”
Seeing the danger to his father, Edan was determined to distract this madman from his mission. “Clive said his father’s name was Thurman, and that he knew you.”
At once Upton reacted with stunned surprise. For long silent moments he peered at the man who stood before him. His voice was a strangled whisper. “Aye. I should have seen the resemblance. Not to Thurman, but to his wife, Aldora, for you are very like her.”