their number who seemed indefatigable was Gordon Lachlan. He was driven.
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“There are thousands and thousands of English on this island,” she said soberly.
“I know.”
“You can’t fight them all. It’s a losing cause.”
“I’ll do what I must.”
He didn’t prevaricate. She respected that. He believed that deeply in his purpose.
The moonlight made the planes of his face look hard. There was a fire in this man. She’d seen it before, but not here. In America.
“Do you have an army?” she asked.
“My clansmen drill now at our camp. There are others who yearn for justice but they don’t believe we can succeed. The Sword of the MacKenna will give them a voice. Then, they will join us.”
She shook her head. “I know something about war. I’ve seen Indian battles and witnessed how ruthless men can be when the blood lust is upon them.” She didn’t want to think of Gordon Lachlan that way. He was her kidnapper, he’d tricked her, but there was something humane and honorable about him, too.
He seemed to read her mind. “Don’t judge me harshly, Miss Constance,” he said. “I have cause for my actions. The English allow a nasty habit to occur here, one they wouldn’t allow in their own country. It’s called the Clearances. Landowners have discovered the profit in sheep and want grazing pastures. These men who were once chieftains of their clans have gone English and shoved aside their responsibilities to the crofters and yeoman who have given them allegiance for centuries, all for the sake of money. They no longer accept their responsibilities to their people. They are forcing them from their homes, often with no more than the clothes on their backs, and using the land for sheep. It’s not right. It’s not the way things are done in Scotland. People should mean more than beasts.”
Constance shook her head. “It sounds as if it is the Scottish with whom you have a complaint, not the English.”
Disgust laced his voice as he said, “Aye, these landowners have English titles and prefer London to their own country while English troops set fires to burn the crofters out. They’ve left thousands of people with no homes, no land, and no way to feed their children.”
“Isn’t there a magistrate or someone who can use the law against this practice?” Constance asked.
“The English make the laws, lass, and they make them in their favor.”
“Then change them.”
He made an impatient sound as if finding her naive. “The landowners are powerful. They won’t change a law that works for them. And they’ll stop at nothing to silence a good man who speaks out for justice.
My father was such a man. He believed in the law. Taught me to believe in it. When he spoke against the Clearances, when he stood up for his countrymen, he was murdered. Stabbed by an assassin on his way home from court. The people took to the streets to protest his murder. They even caught his murderer, who confessed that he’d been hired. However, the man conveniently disappeared before he could be Page 33
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tried.”
“What do you mean, disappeared?”
“He escaped…or so they say.” The twist of Lachlan’s mouth said that he had doubts. “The man was never seen or heard from again. I know. I’ve searched for him.”
Now she understood what drove him. This quest for a sword was personal for him. He wanted vengeance, even if it meant rebellion.
And she didn’t want any of it. She wanted to go home. To return to her beloved Ohio Valley, where she understood the rules and didn’t need to be anyone other than herself.
She also realized something else. “If you plan to use this sword to lead a rebellion,” she said, “then the Duke of Colster must not give it to you. To do so would be treasonous.”
Lachlan frowned. “That’s his
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“There are thousands and thousands of English on this island,” she said soberly.
“I know.”
“You can’t fight them all. It’s a losing cause.”
“I’ll do what I must.”
He didn’t prevaricate. She respected that. He believed that deeply in his purpose.
The moonlight made the planes of his face look hard. There was a fire in this man. She’d seen it before, but not here. In America.
“Do you have an army?” she asked.
“My clansmen drill now at our camp. There are others who yearn for justice but they don’t believe we can succeed. The Sword of the MacKenna will give them a voice. Then, they will join us.”
She shook her head. “I know something about war. I’ve seen Indian battles and witnessed how ruthless men can be when the blood lust is upon them.” She didn’t want to think of Gordon Lachlan that way. He was her kidnapper, he’d tricked her, but there was something humane and honorable about him, too.
He seemed to read her mind. “Don’t judge me harshly, Miss Constance,” he said. “I have cause for my actions. The English allow a nasty habit to occur here, one they wouldn’t allow in their own country. It’s called the Clearances. Landowners have discovered the profit in sheep and want grazing pastures. These men who were once chieftains of their clans have gone English and shoved aside their responsibilities to the crofters and yeoman who have given them allegiance for centuries, all for the sake of money. They no longer accept their responsibilities to their people. They are forcing them from their homes, often with no more than the clothes on their backs, and using the land for sheep. It’s not right. It’s not the way things are done in Scotland. People should mean more than beasts.”
Constance shook her head. “It sounds as if it is the Scottish with whom you have a complaint, not the English.”
Disgust laced his voice as he said, “Aye, these landowners have English titles and prefer London to their own country while English troops set fires to burn the crofters out. They’ve left thousands of people with no homes, no land, and no way to feed their children.”
“Isn’t there a magistrate or someone who can use the law against this practice?” Constance asked.
“The English make the laws, lass, and they make them in their favor.”
“Then change them.”
He made an impatient sound as if finding her naive. “The landowners are powerful. They won’t change a law that works for them. And they’ll stop at nothing to silence a good man who speaks out for justice.
My father was such a man. He believed in the law. Taught me to believe in it. When he spoke against the Clearances, when he stood up for his countrymen, he was murdered. Stabbed by an assassin on his way home from court. The people took to the streets to protest his murder. They even caught his murderer, who confessed that he’d been hired. However, the man conveniently disappeared before he could be Page 33
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
tried.”
“What do you mean, disappeared?”
“He escaped…or so they say.” The twist of Lachlan’s mouth said that he had doubts. “The man was never seen or heard from again. I know. I’ve searched for him.”
Now she understood what drove him. This quest for a sword was personal for him. He wanted vengeance, even if it meant rebellion.
And she didn’t want any of it. She wanted to go home. To return to her beloved Ohio Valley, where she understood the rules and didn’t need to be anyone other than herself.
She also realized something else. “If you plan to use this sword to lead a rebellion,” she said, “then the Duke of Colster must not give it to you. To do so would be treasonous.”
Lachlan frowned. “That’s his
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