Timeless Mist by Terisa Wilcox

prides himself on
his sworn oath. There arenae many I know who would break their word. No matter
how tempted."
    "I dinnae like it." Iain shook
his head, "I think it is a mistake."
    "Whether it is or no'
remains to be seen."
    "Ye willnae be say ing that when ye wind up dead, father."
    "I doonae think e'en Argyle
will go that far. That is neither here nor
there at the moment. I wish to exact your word that ye will nay on ly care
for the clan in my absence, but ye will care for your màthair and your sister as well. If anyth ing should happen to me,
until one of your elder brother's returns, ye shall be laird."
    Iain wanted to protest further,
but could n't .
    He'd been right not to trust the Earl of
Argyle. Archibald Campbell had indeed held to his oath to see his father delivered to England, along with the
eleven other clansmen who'd gone with him to represent the MacGregors. Once
across the border, however, Argyle had arrested Alistair and brought him back to Edinburgh where they held a sham of a
trial before hang ing his father and the other men with him.
    "Iain, are ye listen ing to me?"
    Iain looked up to find Sorcha
watch ing him, a
tight-lipped look on her face. He knew that look well, for hadn't he grown up with it? She wore it whenever someth ing displeased her.
    "Aye, màthair ." He pulled his
drift ing thoughts back
to the conversation.
    "Ye should attack the
Campbell's; beat them at their own game. Ride to their keep and take your
sister back by force if necessary."
    A sudden thought occurred to Iain
that had never occurred to him before. "Why is it ye are so certain 'twas
the Campbell's that took Caitlyn and no' just her running off again?"
    Sorcha turned her face away.
    "Mathair?"
    With a sigh, Sorcha looked at him
again, but would not meet his eyes. "'Tis a long tale, Iain, but suffice
it to say that a woman scorned has nothing on a Campbell laird scorned."
    "Do ye mean…"
    "I dinnae wish to discuss it
any further than that, Iain." Her tone clipped, Sorcha rose from her chair
and stood by the fire, "I just would no' put it past Archibald Campbell to
take your sister as some kind of twisted revenge. Attacking him and taking your
sister back is nay more than he deserves."
    Iain gave up, realizing he would
get no more of the tale from her. "Ye know 'tis nay that simple." He
chided. "'Twould be suicide to do the like ,
and well ye know that ."
He growled. "We would need to lay siege to their keep and we dinnae ha'e
the manpower to do that .
And, might I remind ye that we are considered outlaws? I will nay risk the lives of my men on a fool's
errand. I may nay have been the best choice for laird, but wi' my brothers gone and da…" He
trailed off at the pained expression on his màthair 's
face. "I'm sorry."
    "'Tis nay your fault,
Iain." She waved his apology aside. "I had a good life with your father, and am not sorry about one moment of it. I would never have wished it to end the way it did, but 't was a full, rich life I had with him. And longer than either of us hoped for. He was three score and ten and we'd been together
for more than half of those years. He would be disappointed in me if I mourned
him longer than necessary after such a bless ing of life together." She narrowed her eyes at him, "and I know what you
are think ing . As far
as ye nay be ing the
best choice for laird, you are wrong there too."
    "I dinnae think I was ful ly prepared for this."
He shook his head, not believ ing he was discuss ing this with her.
    "Ye trained alongside your
brothers."
    "Aye, but I dinnae feel it was enough." He wasn't sure he could make
her understand he did n't think he was ready for
the responsibility thrust on him. He was the youngest son and had never been pushed to learn all the th ing s
necessary to be laird. There were
two others before him, after all. He shrugged those thoughts aside. He
would do what he must and hope it would be for the best. He wasn't incompetent nor was
he stupid. He could and he would learn