Child of the Mist (22 page)

A slow grin twisted the corners of Duncan's mouth. "Och, 'tisn't your imagination, lady. There is indeed cause for celebration."

"And, pray, what is the cause?"

Duncan's brows drew up in surprise. "Hasn't Niall informed you o' the queen's charter, delivered just this day?"

Anne fought a surge of annoyance. Why must he persist in making her drag the news out of him? She shook her head. "Nay, I haven't seen him since the arrival o' the messenger. If you'd be so kind as to enlighten me. . . ."

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. " 'Twould be best if you first heard it from my nephew. The news might well upset you. Mayhap he could find some way to soften it."

"Please, Sir Duncan!" An uneasy premonition stirred within her. "He isn't here and I'd prefer not to wait all night. Tell me and see it done."

The older man shrugged, a strange light glittering in his deep blue eyes. "As you will, lady. 'Twas a land grant the queen has finally given us, one we've sought for many years. If you recall, you MacGregors have never had legal title to the lands you've claimed, holding them only on the clan principle. Tradition, however, never carries the same power as a sheepskin grant."

At the rising horror in Anne's eyes, Duncan gave a harsh laugh. "Aye, 'tis as you suppose. Your lands, m'lady, are now ours."

"Why, Father?" Niall demanded, his voice hoarse with frustration. "Why did you do such a thing?"

Robert Campbell straightened in his chair and sighed. "Why obtain legal ownership over MacGregor lands?" He shrugged wearily. "Because I finally tired o' their senseless raids, their burning o' our crofts and theft o' our livestock. 'Twas the work o' fools, this incessant picking at us when they never had any hope o' winning. Duncan convinced me 'twas the only way finally to end the feud. They'd either come to heel or be driven off. I thought 'twas the best course for all, even if the MacGregors were too blind to see it."

"But they've held those lands for centuries, legally or not. 'Tis their heart's blood. They won't give it up, not until the last one o' them is dead. Our feud will now escalate to an all-out war!"

"Even the MacGregors can't prevail against a royal charter. They'd risk banishment, if not proscribement."

Niall shuddered at the word. Proscribement required the clan name be struck from existence, the lands forfeit, and the men hunted like animals with a price on their heads. Yet what other choice would the MacGregors have? Clan honor would never permit them to give up their land, to become little more than tenants to the Campbells.

Robert saw the dark look in his son's eyes. "The feuding had to stop!" he said defensively. 'We, too, have our honor, and that honor requires we do all within our power to protect our own. And I meant to be gracious with the MacGregors. Only their chief would've known the full extent o' the grant. 'Twas my bargaining piece." His face brightened. "But now it doesn't matter. Our clans will be joined when you and Anne wed. You can sign the grant over to her as a wedding gift. MacGregor lands will stay MacGregor."

"Somehow," Niall muttered, I don't think Anne will see it quite so benignly. I wish you hadn't given Duncan leave to tell everyone. I could've used some time to break it to her in a gentler fashion."

His father frowned. "Aye, mayhap that wasn't wise. But Duncan was so happy, so eager to share the news, and now that the feuding's ended . . ."

Niall clamped down on his anger at his uncle's cruel thoughtlessness. In the past, he knew his father would never have been so easily manipulated, but the sickness ravaging his body had also weakened his mind. There was nothing to be done about it. Nothing save to get to Anne as quickly as possible and try to explain.

He gripped his father's shoulder in a parting gesture. " 'Twill be all right in the end. Anne and I will work it out. By your leave, I would see to that now.

Robert waved him away. "Aye, do that, laddie. I've no wish for the lass to suffer needlessly. Go to her. Tell her the truth o' the matter.''

Niall strode from the room. "Tell her the truth o' the matter." He wondered if the truth might not come far too late to assuage the pride of a beautiful, russet-haired MacGregor.

His pace down the corridor quickened to a dead run. The evening meal was sure to have started by now. Anne may have already heard the news about the land grant. He needed to get to her, to explain, to soothe away her fears, or yet another wall would come slamming down between them.

Damn it all!
Niall cursed to himself. Why, when they finally seemed to be coming to some sort of understanding, did this have to happen?

He reached the head of the stairs overlooking the Great Hall and paused. He scanned the room for sight of her. Though the meal was over, Anne was still seated at the main table. Even from this breadth of the room, Niall could see her pale, drawn expression, the rigid set of her slender shoulders.
She knows,
he thought with a sinking feeling,
yet is too proud to leave, seeing it as an admission of her pain
.

His clan, however, seemed oblivious to her. There she sat in the midst of the jubilant toasts and joyful revelry, alone and suffering, as beautiful in defeat as in defiance. An overwhelming impulse to go to her rose in Niall.

Anne sensed his presence even before she felt his touch. She tensed, barely controlling the impulse to jerk away. Ever so slowly, she turned to look up at him, making no attempt to hide her contempt and scalding anger.

His dark eyes flashed a gentle but firm warning. "Not here, Annie." He offered her his hand. "Pray, come with me."

She rose, refusing his assistance. "Aye, m'lord. You are right. What I've to say is best heard in private, or this very eve the feud will start anew."

In silence, they made their way to Anne's room. As soon as the door closed behind Niall, she rounded on him. "O' all the greedy, thieving"

"Are you going to judge and hang me before I've had a chance to defend myself?"

Niall eyed the little spitfire standing before him. Lord, but he'd never seen her so mad or so exquisitely beautiful! All he wanted was to take her in his arms and to kiss away her anger, but he knew the act would never soothe the pain that lay beneath her rage. The only way to do that was first to win back her trust.

Anne glared up at him. "There's naught you can say that speaks more clearly than what you've done, Niall Campbell! You've finally succeeded in destroying us. You must feel so very, very proud!"

"I had naught to do with this, Annie. Today is the first time I knew about the grant."

"And I say you lie!"

He grabbed her arms and pulled her to him. "Damn you, woman! I told you once beforeI never lie! Are you so blinded by emotion you can't listen to reason? Am I talking to a fool?"

"The only fool here is you, if you think I or my clan will accept this! Well fight you to our last breath before giving up our land!" Her voice lowered to a calm flatness. "But then, mayhap that's what you wanted all along. With this royal grant, we now go against not only you, but the Crown as well. What better ruse to annihilate us completely?"

"Damn it, Annie, listen to me!" Niall gave her a small shake. "I'll be chieftain soon. Do you truly believe I'd do something like that? What purpose would it serve? You're the firstborn o' your clan. There are no males with greater claim than you. If we legalize our union at year's end, in a sense we've joined our lands anyway. So you see, there's really no problem."

"Nono problem?" It took all of Anne's control not to slap what she saw as a smug look off Niall's face. "A year is too late! You legally own our lands as o' today. 'Tis no longer ours, don't you see? We'll be the laughingstock o' the Highlands! No wedding a year from now will change that! You've made us look the fool, all but turned us into outcasts. 'Tis done, Niall Campbell, and naughtnaught will ever change that!"

She wrenched away, turning her back to him. "I beg leave to return to my people. I have more than served my purpose and cannot bear another day in this castle. If you have even a shred of compassion, you will not humiliate me further."

"Don't even think it!" Niall growled. "You're upset and not reasoning clearly. We had something growing between us, Annie. Will you let the schemes o' others destroy it?"

She whirled to face him, her eyes blazing with silver fire. "And I say you are mistaken,
m'lord
. We have naught. Do you hear me?
Naught!
Don't think to placate me with soft-spoken words. You are no better than the rest o' them! Let me go, I say!"

At the disdainful finality in Anne's voice, the warmth in Niall's eyes faded. In its place grew a hard resolve. If she wasn't clearheaded enough to know her own heart, he'd have to take command. All Anne needed was time. Time to be convinced of his true motives, to find some way out of this quagmire of wounded honor.

Niall shook his head. I won't free you from your vows. We are handfasted for a year. Willing or no, you'll stay here for that time and not a moment less."

He began to walk toward the door when her tear-choked voice halted him, her bitter words slicing deep to lay open his heart. "I hate you, Niall Campbell," Anne whispered. "Mark well my words. If 'tis the last thing I do, I'll make you rue the day you brought me here."

"W-water . . ."

Niall slipped his arm beneath his father's head. Lifting him, he offered the dying man a sip of water.

The Campbell shot him a grateful smile. With a sigh, his eyes slid shut. Niall lay him down. For a long while he sat there, watching the bedcovers rise and fall with his father's labored breathing.

I'll be chieftain very soon now
. The thought gave him little comfort. The position held no joy or attraction for him. It was nothing but a heavy responsibility and burdensome worry. Of late, all it seemed to do was drive one wedge after another between him and Anne.

Anne. When had she begun to fill all his waking moments, become so important to him? Yet now, when he needed her most, she couldn't be further away.

"H-have you talked to the l-lassie?"

Niall shook his head, gazing down at the pain- bright eyes once more staring up at him. "Nay, she refuses to see me. 'Tis well over a week now, and she hasn't budged from her room. My only comfort is that Agnes assures me she's alive and eating."

" 'T-tis my fault. 'Twas my foolish scheme to end the feud that caused this." Robert sighed. "Och, wh-why did I let Duncan talk me into this? Wh-what was I thinking?"

Niall laid a comforting hand on his father's shoulder. "Don't waste your strength worrying over this, Father. I, o' all people, realize how hard the choices are. You made the decision in good faith. You couldn't know what lay ahead. Anne and I will work this out."

"S-she's a sweet lass."

"Aye, Father."

"Y-you care for her, don't you, laddie?"

Tawny-brown eyes met those of bright blue. "Aye."

"B-bring her to me. I m-must say my farewells."

Niall frowned. "She won't come. She holds you as responsible as I for the land grant."

The Campbell's trembling hand grasped his son's shirt to pull him close. "II am dying, lad! She'll come."