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Authors: Amy Jarecki
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health—sir…?”
The man smiled. Though dark hair peeked from beneath his helm, there was a resemblance between he and her scoundrel of a husband. “Forgive me. I am Lord Colin Campbell of Argyll.”
Margaret gaped. “You mean there are two of you?”
He rolled his hand and bowed his head. “My uncle calls me Argyll to keep it simple.”
“Colin is your uncle? You look as if you could be brothers.”
He smiled easily—Colin’s smile, but friendlier. “That we do. He’s only five years my senior.”
This man was the same age as she. “I see.”
“Lord Glenorchy might seem a bit gruff at first…”
“I’ll say.”
Argyll chuckled. “But there’s no one better—no other man on this earth to whom I would trust my life. I was his squire until I reached my majority.”
“How unfortunate for you.” Margaret bit her lip. Had she just let her pent-up anger slip past her lips? She’d best hold her tongue, especially when speaking to a relative of her— that man .
“He’s had his share of strife. His first wife died of the sweat. She lost two bairns in childbirth. I suspect you know the rest.”
Margaret covered her mouth with her gloved hand. Colin’s lot had been difficult, to say the least, but that still did not assuage his boorishness toward her. She opted to change the subject. “How long will it take us to travel to Loch Awe?”
“Two nights and a bit. Uncle Colin plans to stop and check on the progress of his keep before we proceed on to Dunstaffnage.”
“Dunstaffnage? All the way to the coast? But I thought Lord Glenorchy’s major holdings were at Loch Awe.”
“They are, but baby Duncan resides at Dunstaffnage until the work on Kilchurn Castle is complete.” Argyll smoothed the reins through his fingers. “Has Colin not told you?”
Margaret shifted in her uncomfortable saddle. “I daresay he hasn’t mentioned much to me at all.” They were heading to Dunstaffnage? What could she expect at that archaic castle? Would she have a free rein to manage the keep’s affairs, or would Colin frown upon a woman with a mind for figures? He might very well opt to lock her in a tower with his colicky infant. The more she considered it, the more she convinced herself she’d be locked away. A man like her husband would not appreciate her unique talents.
The blackguard hadn’t come to collect her himself, hadn’t bothered to dismount and show her courtesy when she arrived in the courtyard, and now he rode at the front of his men as if she didn’t exist.
Colin’s arrogance surpassed all imagination. Riding at the head of the guard where he’d be the first attacked if they were ambushed? He’d be killed for certain—not that his death would affect her in any way.
***
Argyll rode in beside Colin as they approached the inn at Callander. Lord Glenorchy had made arrangements for his retinue ahead of time, but that did nothing to allay the churning in his gut.
Colin glared at his nephew. “Enjoy riding beside my wife all day , did you?”
“Och, are you jealous?” Argyll gathered his reins. “Someone needed to make the lady feel welcome.” He batted the air with his hand. “Bah. Leaving her alone at the rear of the guard like she’s your prisoner? Honestly, uncle, your new cloak of indifference does not become you.”
“I…”
Argyll clicked his spurs and galloped ahead.
Colin growled through his teeth. He probably should have said something to Margaret when they stopped for their nooning rather than practice sparring with his guard. But he always sparred to enliven his muscles during a long journey, and he vowed he would act no differently because the woman rode with them.
He didn’t care if Margaret held him in contempt. The hole in his heart still bled. How could any man recover from grief in a month? If only he could have borne Jonet’s pain and died in her place. Allowing his heart to harbor any feelings for Margaret was akin to betraying Jonet’s memory.
Colin
The man smiled. Though dark hair peeked from beneath his helm, there was a resemblance between he and her scoundrel of a husband. “Forgive me. I am Lord Colin Campbell of Argyll.”
Margaret gaped. “You mean there are two of you?”
He rolled his hand and bowed his head. “My uncle calls me Argyll to keep it simple.”
“Colin is your uncle? You look as if you could be brothers.”
He smiled easily—Colin’s smile, but friendlier. “That we do. He’s only five years my senior.”
This man was the same age as she. “I see.”
“Lord Glenorchy might seem a bit gruff at first…”
“I’ll say.”
Argyll chuckled. “But there’s no one better—no other man on this earth to whom I would trust my life. I was his squire until I reached my majority.”
“How unfortunate for you.” Margaret bit her lip. Had she just let her pent-up anger slip past her lips? She’d best hold her tongue, especially when speaking to a relative of her— that man .
“He’s had his share of strife. His first wife died of the sweat. She lost two bairns in childbirth. I suspect you know the rest.”
Margaret covered her mouth with her gloved hand. Colin’s lot had been difficult, to say the least, but that still did not assuage his boorishness toward her. She opted to change the subject. “How long will it take us to travel to Loch Awe?”
“Two nights and a bit. Uncle Colin plans to stop and check on the progress of his keep before we proceed on to Dunstaffnage.”
“Dunstaffnage? All the way to the coast? But I thought Lord Glenorchy’s major holdings were at Loch Awe.”
“They are, but baby Duncan resides at Dunstaffnage until the work on Kilchurn Castle is complete.” Argyll smoothed the reins through his fingers. “Has Colin not told you?”
Margaret shifted in her uncomfortable saddle. “I daresay he hasn’t mentioned much to me at all.” They were heading to Dunstaffnage? What could she expect at that archaic castle? Would she have a free rein to manage the keep’s affairs, or would Colin frown upon a woman with a mind for figures? He might very well opt to lock her in a tower with his colicky infant. The more she considered it, the more she convinced herself she’d be locked away. A man like her husband would not appreciate her unique talents.
The blackguard hadn’t come to collect her himself, hadn’t bothered to dismount and show her courtesy when she arrived in the courtyard, and now he rode at the front of his men as if she didn’t exist.
Colin’s arrogance surpassed all imagination. Riding at the head of the guard where he’d be the first attacked if they were ambushed? He’d be killed for certain—not that his death would affect her in any way.
***
Argyll rode in beside Colin as they approached the inn at Callander. Lord Glenorchy had made arrangements for his retinue ahead of time, but that did nothing to allay the churning in his gut.
Colin glared at his nephew. “Enjoy riding beside my wife all day , did you?”
“Och, are you jealous?” Argyll gathered his reins. “Someone needed to make the lady feel welcome.” He batted the air with his hand. “Bah. Leaving her alone at the rear of the guard like she’s your prisoner? Honestly, uncle, your new cloak of indifference does not become you.”
“I…”
Argyll clicked his spurs and galloped ahead.
Colin growled through his teeth. He probably should have said something to Margaret when they stopped for their nooning rather than practice sparring with his guard. But he always sparred to enliven his muscles during a long journey, and he vowed he would act no differently because the woman rode with them.
He didn’t care if Margaret held him in contempt. The hole in his heart still bled. How could any man recover from grief in a month? If only he could have borne Jonet’s pain and died in her place. Allowing his heart to harbor any feelings for Margaret was akin to betraying Jonet’s memory.
Colin
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