MacKinnon’s Rangers 03.5 - Upon A Winter's Night by Pamela Clare Page B
Authors: Pamela Clare
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Edward to search for them, there are so few troops remaining at my disposal that I would consider that a waste of His Majesty’s resources. Without proof, MacKinnon, I cannot and will not pay your Rangers."
Haviland spoke the last word with contempt, his lip curling.
Neach dìolain ! Bastard!
Connor bit his tongue, recalling Iain’s admonition not to say anything that might get them arrested.
"These Rangers turned the tide of the war. By their blood, British troops were kept safe on the march. Through their skill wi ’ shootin ’ marks, trackin ’ and woodcraft, the Crown won many victories. And now you would break Britain’s word to them, deprivin ’ them of their wages and leavin ’ their families to go hungry at Christmastide?"
"I don’t know of any promises made to the Rangers, MacKinnon," Haviland replied in a silky voice, rising to his feet. "As for their much-vaunted woodcraft, their ability to skulk through the forest like heathen Indians does lend itself to performing certain tasks, but that hardly makes the Rangers soldiers. You and your men are nothing more than the raffish spawn of exiles."
Connor felt his teeth grind, his fists clenching as he fought to keep them at his side and not slam the whoreson in the face.
But Haviland went on. "When I look at you, MacKinnon, do you know what I see? I see the sons of a Jacobite traitor. One of your brothers was convicted of treason and only stands here today because he managed somehow to escape the hangman."
Iain cut Haviland off, his voice booming through the small room. "Morgan was never a traitor! Governor DeLancy himself pardoned— "
"And your younger brother — I’ve heard the rumors. I know that he seduced Wentworth’s niece and got her with child. Perhaps he arranged the attack that led to her death. Perhaps he— "
" Neach dìolain !" Connor lunged toward Haviland , only to come up short when he saw that Iain had already grabbed the bastard by the throat.
" Dinnae you be talkin’ about my brothers or poor Lady Sarah like that, Haviland , you filthy son of a whore!"
Haviland jerked away, a mix of fear and excitement on his face, calling to the sentries Connor had forgotten in his fury. "Arrest these men!"
In a heartbeat, redcoats filled the room, and Connor found himself and his brothers held at bayonet point as Haviland watched, gloating.
"Put them in irons. Take them to the guardhouse."
"Belay that order, and stand down!"
Connor’s head jerked around toward the sound of the familiar voice. And there in the doorway in full uniform, he stood. " Wentworth! "
CHAPTER 6
William saw the astonishment on the faces of the three MacKinnon brothers — and the shock they quickly hid at the sight of him. He saw a different kind of surprise on Haviland’s face and something else, too — fear.
He addressed the Regulars. "Stand down, I said! You are dismissed."
The Regulars hesitated for a moment, looking to Haviland , who spluttered, "Y-you are not in command here."
William turned to Cooke. "Has Haviland’s promotion been confirmed, Captain?"
"Aye, my lord, but even so, you are still the senior officer."
William turned back to Haviland . "I outrank you — in every way."
Satisfied, the Regulars hurried out of the room, most of them averting their gazes as they passed William, clearly trying not to look at him. He couldn’t blame them.
Even with a wig, his appearance was monstrous.
"Son of a whore." William strode toward Haviland , repeating what Iain MacKinnon had just called him. "Was your mother a whore, Haviland ? I know nothing about her."
"My mother was a chaste and respectable woman." Haviland glared at him.
William glanced about the office that had once been his. His gaze fell upon the bookshelves to his left. "My mother is a royal princess, the daughter of our recently departed sovereign and aunt to His Majesty King George III."
Haviland hated being reminded of William’s royal bloodline, but
Haviland spoke the last word with contempt, his lip curling.
Neach dìolain ! Bastard!
Connor bit his tongue, recalling Iain’s admonition not to say anything that might get them arrested.
"These Rangers turned the tide of the war. By their blood, British troops were kept safe on the march. Through their skill wi ’ shootin ’ marks, trackin ’ and woodcraft, the Crown won many victories. And now you would break Britain’s word to them, deprivin ’ them of their wages and leavin ’ their families to go hungry at Christmastide?"
"I don’t know of any promises made to the Rangers, MacKinnon," Haviland replied in a silky voice, rising to his feet. "As for their much-vaunted woodcraft, their ability to skulk through the forest like heathen Indians does lend itself to performing certain tasks, but that hardly makes the Rangers soldiers. You and your men are nothing more than the raffish spawn of exiles."
Connor felt his teeth grind, his fists clenching as he fought to keep them at his side and not slam the whoreson in the face.
But Haviland went on. "When I look at you, MacKinnon, do you know what I see? I see the sons of a Jacobite traitor. One of your brothers was convicted of treason and only stands here today because he managed somehow to escape the hangman."
Iain cut Haviland off, his voice booming through the small room. "Morgan was never a traitor! Governor DeLancy himself pardoned— "
"And your younger brother — I’ve heard the rumors. I know that he seduced Wentworth’s niece and got her with child. Perhaps he arranged the attack that led to her death. Perhaps he— "
" Neach dìolain !" Connor lunged toward Haviland , only to come up short when he saw that Iain had already grabbed the bastard by the throat.
" Dinnae you be talkin’ about my brothers or poor Lady Sarah like that, Haviland , you filthy son of a whore!"
Haviland jerked away, a mix of fear and excitement on his face, calling to the sentries Connor had forgotten in his fury. "Arrest these men!"
In a heartbeat, redcoats filled the room, and Connor found himself and his brothers held at bayonet point as Haviland watched, gloating.
"Put them in irons. Take them to the guardhouse."
"Belay that order, and stand down!"
Connor’s head jerked around toward the sound of the familiar voice. And there in the doorway in full uniform, he stood. " Wentworth! "
CHAPTER 6
William saw the astonishment on the faces of the three MacKinnon brothers — and the shock they quickly hid at the sight of him. He saw a different kind of surprise on Haviland’s face and something else, too — fear.
He addressed the Regulars. "Stand down, I said! You are dismissed."
The Regulars hesitated for a moment, looking to Haviland , who spluttered, "Y-you are not in command here."
William turned to Cooke. "Has Haviland’s promotion been confirmed, Captain?"
"Aye, my lord, but even so, you are still the senior officer."
William turned back to Haviland . "I outrank you — in every way."
Satisfied, the Regulars hurried out of the room, most of them averting their gazes as they passed William, clearly trying not to look at him. He couldn’t blame them.
Even with a wig, his appearance was monstrous.
"Son of a whore." William strode toward Haviland , repeating what Iain MacKinnon had just called him. "Was your mother a whore, Haviland ? I know nothing about her."
"My mother was a chaste and respectable woman." Haviland glared at him.
William glanced about the office that had once been his. His gaze fell upon the bookshelves to his left. "My mother is a royal princess, the daughter of our recently departed sovereign and aunt to His Majesty King George III."
Haviland hated being reminded of William’s royal bloodline, but
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