Chapter 26

Leitis stared at the scene, her mind still reeling. There he stood, the Butcher of Inverness, Ian, holding a cat tenderly in his arms.

The woman beside him wore a tricorne hat not unlike the officers at Fort William. Attached to it was a long black lace veil. Her ebony dress declared her a widow and boasted a fitted bodice, tight sleeves, and a skirt split to reveal a black underskirt. Even though she was wearing deep mourning, she was smiling brightly.

Leitis shook her head as if to empty it of all the contradictions she faced. She walked back into Gilmuir's courtyard, resisting the urge to limp. Her foot ached from where she'd kicked Ian.

Entering the archway, she walked into the clan hall. Sunlight bathed the interior, even as shadows clung to the corners. She stood in the middle of the once-impressive room, staring up at the clear blue of the sky. One night the Butcher—no, Ian—had done the same, desperate with confusion. Or burdened with his secrets?

In places the floor had been demolished and the stone ribs of the foundation could be seen. She had the feeling that her life was like Gilmuir in that the core of her was being revealed.

He had once warned her of being too like Cumberland. Had she truly been so blinded by hatred?

The English were not the only ones responsible for what had happened to her country, to Gilmuir. The Scots leaders held their share of responsibility. So did every man who left for battle with the thought of rebellion in his heart and every woman who watched them go with pride.

They had not considered what could happen if they lost. They had wanted something so fiercely that they refused to think of the alternative.

Just as she had.

She had not wanted Ian to be the colonel, so she had pretended it wasn't so. She'd ignored her intuition and even her intelligence.

How had she fooled herself so completely? By ignoring all the signs. All along she'd been reminded of someone by the way he walked, by his bearing. She'd thought it was Marcus, or had that been simply another pretense she'd offered herself?

She walked through the archway; the path dappled by sunlight, and entered the priory.

How strange that this place had never seemed filled with ghosts. The only spirits lingering here were those still alive.

Are you faint of heart? Afraid of horses or shadows or the wind blowing through your hair?

What had the past years been like for him? Had he been as conflicted as she felt now? A Scots mother, an English father. The Scots would hate him; the English would suspect him.

She went to one of the middle arches, staring out over the loch and beyond. A land she loved. But a country is more than the earth and the hills, the lake and the forests. It is the people that make it alive. Men of great deeds and petty tyrannies. Women of courage and selfishness. People frail and strong, brave and fearful. Not gods, not saints, only people.

And the colonel of the regiment? A person as well. A man wedded to his duty until the obligation proved too onerous. Wasn't that what had happened to her own country? The people had accepted what they could until the breaking point. Good or ill, wise or foolish, they had rebelled.

As had Ian.

Alec summoned Lieutenant Castleton to his side.

"Do we have two available chambers for the countess and my brother, Castleton?" he asked.

The other man's expression could only be construed as worried, but then he was a conscientious soldier, one who hated to disappoint him.

"There are no empty chambers, sir. But we could clear out the ordnance rooms, move the gunpowder."

"Then see that it's done," he said.

The lieutenant raised his arm, motioning to Armstrong. The other man glanced over at him, then wisely smoothed his face of its momentary irritation.

David occupied himself by talking to his cat, tapping gently on the sides of the basket.

"I don't remember him being this way," Alec said carefully in an aside to Patricia.

"He was a child when you left. Others grew, he didn't," she said simply.

"There are those who would have chosen to keep him hidden," he said, voicing a truth that she surely knew. It was easier to keep a dotty aunt, a deformed child, a senile father locked away. Society pretended that it was perfect. David would banish that notion with his very presence. Only the very rich or the ennobled were allowed to be eccentric or different.

"Yes," she said, agreeing. "But then they would never have had the joy I have." She looked at her son. "David loves with his whole heart and never looks at life as evil or sad or lonely."

"I remember that about you," he said smiling. "You were always very protective of those you loved. My father was very fortunate."

"You're very like him," she said, studying him. "I'd never realized it before."

David was smiling brightly, greeting each of the soldiers who passed him. Inappropriate behavior, perhaps, for a young man, but not for a child.

"We didn't quarrel," he said absently, watching David. "We simply lost interest in each other."

"I think your presence was difficult for him. He loved your mother so very much."

"And seeing me brought her back?" he asked skeptically, glancing at her.

"No. It only emphasized the futility of longing for her," she said surprisingly. "Without you around, he could pretend. That she was away for the summer, perhaps. Or visiting relatives in France. A place from which she could return. I think it's why he distanced himself from me as well," she added.

"Then he was foolish," Alec said. "It's not often that a man has two remarkable women in his life."

The sound of a rider approaching captured his attention. Harrison drew up, a look of concern on his face. He dismounted quickly, approached the group, and nodded in wordless apology for disturbing him.

"Sir, Major Sedgewick is approaching," Harrison said, his face creased with worry. "I saw him on my way back."

"It was too good to last, Harrison," Alec said, annoyed at the major's appearance. He resigned himself to Sedgewick's presence at Fort William for a few days before he could send him out on another patrol.

"That's not all, sir," Harrison said. "It looks as if General Wescott is accompanying him. And quite a large force of men, Colonel."

Alec stepped away from his stepmother, a dozen thoughts flying through his head.

His routine letters to Wescott kept the general informed of the status of Fort William. There was more than one reason why the general would be accompanying Sedgewick, but he couldn't afford to ignore the most dangerous one.

"Everything that could associate me with the Raven needs to be destroyed, Harrison. And anything that can link you to my activities," he said, concerned for the other man's welfare.

Harrison nodded. "What are you going to do, Colonel?" he asked, worried.

"Get to Leitis," Alec said quickly.