what it was about when Bruce dismissed
Campbell and the bishop but had MacLeod remain.
He could feel the fierce Island chief’s scrutiny, but addressed his words to Bruce.
“I want in. I want to be a part of your secret army.” He considered it a good sign
when neither man protested with a “what secret army?” He continued, “I think I’ve
proved my loyalty to you these past few months.”
Kenneth had been part of the king’s retinue on his royal progress across the Highlands.
He’d helped save the king’s life a couple of weeks ago when his brother’s henchman
and a secret killing team of Saracen-style “assassins” had made attempts on it.
“You have,” the king agreed.
He shouldn’t have to prove himself, damn it. “If you doubt my battle skills, I will
cross swords with any man—”
MacLeod arched his brow in challenge, but it was the king who interrupted. “Your skills
are not at issue.”
“I am not as adept as Gordon was with the black powder, but I have some knowledge.”
His friend and foster brother, William Gordon, had been a part of Bruce’s secret army
and had died last year in an explosion. Kenneth suspected the unusual knowledge of
the Saracen black powder was part of the reason he’d been on the team.
MacLeod and the king exchanged another look, but neither said anything.
Despite his intentions, Kenneth felt his temper prick. “This is about MacKay, isn’t
it?”
“He has expressed some concern,” the king admitted.
“He says you are rash, have a hot temper, and lack discipline,” MacLeod said bluntly.
Kenneth swallowed his anger. As he suspected, Bruce wanted him on the team, but he
wouldn’t invite him to join unless MacKay went along with it. “If he means fierce,
aggressive, and fearless, I won’t argue that. If you wanted discipline, I would think
you’d be at a tournament of knights, not at the Highland Games. Highlanders aren’t
disciplined. We fight to win.” He paused, seeing the hint of a smile play Bruce’s
mouth. “If MacKay agrees, will you consider it?”
After a moment, the king nodded.
Kenneth turned to go have a frank discussion with his future brother-in-law, when
MacLeod stopped him. “But you’ll have to prove yourself to me.”
The way he said it suggested he wasn’t going to like whatever MacLeod had in mind.
But proving himself wasn’t anything new; Kenneth had been doing it since the day he
was born—even in that he’d come in second.
Kenneth waited for his sister to leave the Hall before confronting the man only God
knew why she intended to marry. He stepped in front of MacKay as he exited the tower
on his way to the barracks, blocking his path. “I thought we had a deal.”
MacKay smiled. “What deal?”
He gritted his teeth, fighting for patience. “I wouldn’t stand in your way of marrying
my sister, and you don’t stand in the way of me joining the secret army.”
“I recall a conversation on the subject, but I don’t remember ever agreeing to anything.
And if you think you could stop Helen from marrying me, I’d like to see you try.”
Kenneth’s jaw locked, knowing he was right. His sister had made it clear that his
opinion on her marriage didn’t matter. God save him from a modern “independent” woman!
Sweet and biddable suited him just fine.
The truth was, if he weren’t so used to hating MacKay, he might actually like the
arse. His Sutherland ancestors were probably rolling in their graves at the sacrilege.
The MacKays and Sutherlands had been enemies for as long as he could remember. MacKay
might be a stubborn bastard, but he was also one of the best warriors Kenneth had
ever fought beside. “Perhaps not, but I don’t think you want to be the cause of discord
between Helen and me. She may love you, but she also loves me.”
MacKay frowned, as if he didn’t like being reminded of it. “What do you want? If you
think I’m going to sing
Campbell and the bishop but had MacLeod remain.
He could feel the fierce Island chief’s scrutiny, but addressed his words to Bruce.
“I want in. I want to be a part of your secret army.” He considered it a good sign
when neither man protested with a “what secret army?” He continued, “I think I’ve
proved my loyalty to you these past few months.”
Kenneth had been part of the king’s retinue on his royal progress across the Highlands.
He’d helped save the king’s life a couple of weeks ago when his brother’s henchman
and a secret killing team of Saracen-style “assassins” had made attempts on it.
“You have,” the king agreed.
He shouldn’t have to prove himself, damn it. “If you doubt my battle skills, I will
cross swords with any man—”
MacLeod arched his brow in challenge, but it was the king who interrupted. “Your skills
are not at issue.”
“I am not as adept as Gordon was with the black powder, but I have some knowledge.”
His friend and foster brother, William Gordon, had been a part of Bruce’s secret army
and had died last year in an explosion. Kenneth suspected the unusual knowledge of
the Saracen black powder was part of the reason he’d been on the team.
MacLeod and the king exchanged another look, but neither said anything.
Despite his intentions, Kenneth felt his temper prick. “This is about MacKay, isn’t
it?”
“He has expressed some concern,” the king admitted.
“He says you are rash, have a hot temper, and lack discipline,” MacLeod said bluntly.
Kenneth swallowed his anger. As he suspected, Bruce wanted him on the team, but he
wouldn’t invite him to join unless MacKay went along with it. “If he means fierce,
aggressive, and fearless, I won’t argue that. If you wanted discipline, I would think
you’d be at a tournament of knights, not at the Highland Games. Highlanders aren’t
disciplined. We fight to win.” He paused, seeing the hint of a smile play Bruce’s
mouth. “If MacKay agrees, will you consider it?”
After a moment, the king nodded.
Kenneth turned to go have a frank discussion with his future brother-in-law, when
MacLeod stopped him. “But you’ll have to prove yourself to me.”
The way he said it suggested he wasn’t going to like whatever MacLeod had in mind.
But proving himself wasn’t anything new; Kenneth had been doing it since the day he
was born—even in that he’d come in second.
Kenneth waited for his sister to leave the Hall before confronting the man only God
knew why she intended to marry. He stepped in front of MacKay as he exited the tower
on his way to the barracks, blocking his path. “I thought we had a deal.”
MacKay smiled. “What deal?”
He gritted his teeth, fighting for patience. “I wouldn’t stand in your way of marrying
my sister, and you don’t stand in the way of me joining the secret army.”
“I recall a conversation on the subject, but I don’t remember ever agreeing to anything.
And if you think you could stop Helen from marrying me, I’d like to see you try.”
Kenneth’s jaw locked, knowing he was right. His sister had made it clear that his
opinion on her marriage didn’t matter. God save him from a modern “independent” woman!
Sweet and biddable suited him just fine.
The truth was, if he weren’t so used to hating MacKay, he might actually like the
arse. His Sutherland ancestors were probably rolling in their graves at the sacrilege.
The MacKays and Sutherlands had been enemies for as long as he could remember. MacKay
might be a stubborn bastard, but he was also one of the best warriors Kenneth had
ever fought beside. “Perhaps not, but I don’t think you want to be the cause of discord
between Helen and me. She may love you, but she also loves me.”
MacKay frowned, as if he didn’t like being reminded of it. “What do you want? If you
think I’m going to sing
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