A Hellion at the Highland Court (The Highland Ladies #9) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,90

there was still no mirth. “You don’t ken, do you? Arnold’s been tossing your wife’s skirts for years.” Brodie named Nelson and Matthew’s father, Laird MacDougall, as Devlin’s wife’s lover. Brodie caught wind of the rumor years earlier, but the rage that washed over Devlin confirmed it.

“You did know! You’re naught but a cuckold. Should we check to see if you still have any bollocks, or did your wife give them to your brother?”

“Bugger off, Campbell.”

“Where to? I’m on my land.” Brodie raised his hands in question. “Speaking of land. You’re on mine too. Do you think anyone will come looking for you and your men?”

“You know they will,” Devlin seethed. “And they will burn every village in their wake.”

“Haven’t you done that already? What’s left?” Brodie hissed, pretending to lose his temper.

“We haven’t razed your lands west of Kilchurn. That’s next,” Devlin smirked until he realized what he’d done.

“Kill him.” Brodie turned back to his horse.

“Wait!”

Brodie prolonged the man’s agony by taking his time to turn around. He looked over his shoulder before twisting his body, then finally turning to face Devlin. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, boredom clear on his face.

“I ken you’re going to kill me. But I will tell you what you need to know if you spare my wife and daughter.”

“Mayhap. Depends on what you tell me.” Brodie had no intention of going after either woman. He didn’t fight his battles by harming those who couldn’t fight him fairly. But he would use them as bait.

“Arnold wants to marry the Lamont’s daughter. He wants to bind our clans by blood, but the Lamont won’t consent. Lamont insists we need to prove we’re worth the alliance. Arnold already has sons, so he doesn’t need a wife. But he caught sight of the chit and decided he fancied her. He wants her in his bed, and he wants the Lamonts as his bedfellows. He thinks our two clans can weaken yours. His plan is to marry Matthew to Brenna MacArthur.”

Brodie’s lips thinned as he considered what Devlin told him. The Campbells and MacArthurs descended from the same lineage, and they’d been rivals since before the days of King Alexander. They’d once been the dominant clan, especially with their ties to the Lord of the Isles, John of Islay. They were the famed pipers of Islay’s clan, the MacDonalds of Sleat. But the Campbells loyalty to Robert the Bruce increased their power throughout Argyll and Lorne. The increase in wealth and status had rubbed the MacArthurs the wrong way. Brodie could guess what he would hear next.

“And I suppose the MacArthurs are all too happy to court the MacGregors to their side, riding campaigns against us. You think to surround us and squeeze.”

“Aye. That’s just what Arnold plans.” Devlin nodded his head. “Will you spare my wife and daughter?”

“One or the other. Choose.”

“My daughter.” Devlin didn’t think twice.

“Choose between your daughter and your grandbairns.”

“I—I can’t,” Devlin stammered. Brodie enjoyed the stricken look on Devlin’s face. It was what he hoped for.

“Then tell me where the Lamonts attack next and where your brothers have their men.” There were three MacDougall brothers. Arnold was the eldest and laird. Devlin was the youngest. Martin was in the middle. Arnold was too ambitious for his own good, and Devlin was a milksop. But Martin was the one who gave Brodie the most concern. He had no conscience and reveled in causing others pain. Brodie had been certain Martin led the raids on the villages they’d passed through. He was the only one perverse enough for the level of carnage they encountered. He’d tried to spare Laurel, but she’d caught sight of too much before Brodie could shield her.

“The Lamonts are south of Ben More. Arnold led the attack on Invararnan, while Martin brings his men west from your border. We’re to meet at Inverchorachan tonight and ride for Kilchurn tomorrow. The MacArthurs and MacGregors camp near Edenonich. They will attack from the north and the east while we come from the south.”

Brodie nodded and turned away again. “Kill him.” When he heard Devlin thrash and try to break free, he knew two men restrained him and a third approached. He tossed over his shoulder just before the Campbell warrior’s sword speared him, “By the by. I never intended to touch your family. I’m not you. I don’t target the innocent.”

Brodie heard the strangled gasp as Devlin MacDougall breathed his last. The Campbells and Rosses retreated from the camp, leaving