Chapter Four

      Alan followed Brodie and the others closest to him in loyalty and kinship out through a doorway to a chamber off the kitchens where they would have a measure of privacy. Though he did not ken the subject to be discussed, Alan suspected that word of his uncle’s actions had gotten back to Brodie through a means other than himself.

      And Brodie would ask for his opinion on the matter.

      He exhaled as he considered what his words might be and what they must be. No matter how much he liked and admired Brodie or disliked his uncle, he was first a Cameron. Entering the surprisingly large chamber, he walked across and stood, back against the wall, waiting for Brodie to begin.

      Rob, as always, stood at his side. A few of the elders were here as well. Alan recognised Grigor, the man Brodie thought would lead the clan after the in-fighting that nearly destroyed them. Magnus, a warrior married to Rob’s sister, now served on the council of elders. He smiled then, remembering Magnus’s reaction to being called an ‘elder’—no one did that after the first time. Fergus, Brodie’s steward here at Drumlui Keep, was the last man to enter and one he had not expected to be present. He closed the door and stood in front of it, waiting on his lord’s words.

      ‘I have received word that Gilbert met with Hugh MacMillan near Ballachulish recently,’ Brodie began. The chieftain’s dark gaze did not leave Alan’s face as he spoke. ‘They met for the purpose of a betrothal.’

      Though the others were surprised by this news, Alan did not, by word or look, feign ignorance of the event. He owed Brodie his honesty even if he could not disclose what he knew of the matter.

      ‘Who was to marry whom?’ Rob asked. Since both The Cameron and The MacMillan were widowed, either could have been seeking a bride. Alan almost smiled at the astute question from Brodie’s friend.

      ‘Apparently The Cameron went seeking a bride,’ Brodie answered.

      ‘Who is he to marry?’ Grigor asked, crossing his arms over his massive chest. ‘How many daughters does The MacMillan have?’

      Though older than any of them, the man seemed to grow in robustness as he added years to his age. Having taken Arabella’s aunt to wife recently, he was both strong and content and Brodie always counted on him for his support and knowledge. Alan waited to see exactly how much Brodie knew about The MacMillan’s only daughter.

      ‘He had one,’ Brodie said, again staring at Alan as he spoke. Alan gave a slight nod, confirming his knowledge.

      ‘Had?’ Rob asked. ‘What the bloody hell happened to her?’

      Alan wanted to laugh at the way Rob managed to curse in almost every sentence he uttered, but this was not the time for levity. The lass’s demise bothered him still. Brodie watched him, waiting, so Alan stepped away from the wall and crossed to stand before the chieftain.

      ‘The MacMillan’s only daughter apparently fell into the rain-swollen river in the middle of the night and drowned.’ Silence lay heavy over those present for a few moments and Alan added nothing more.

      ‘Better a quick death in the river than a slow one married to Gilbert.’

      Alan whirled around to see who had spoken those words, both shocked and intrigued that someone else had come to the same realisation that he had. But, of course, he had never said it aloud. Magnus met his stare and nodded.

      ‘Is there anything else you can tell us, Alan?’ Brodie asked, drawing Alan’s attention back. Not ‘want to tell us’. Brodie understood his predicament, for he was a man caught between honour and loyalty.

      ‘Nay, my lord,’ he said, bowing then to the powerful man.

      ‘Then I pray you to seek out your cousin and escort her to our chambers.’

      Without another word, Alan accepted the dismissal and walked to the door. Fergus stepped aside and opened it for him. It closed behind him and he’d taken only two paces when the uproar within the chamber erupted. Between the deep distrust that yet ran deep between their clans and that which they held for Gilbert, the shouting and arguing did not surprise him. Knowing Brodie, he would allow each man a say before coming to any conclusions. And before coming back to Alan.

      He walked back to the hall and found Arabella deep in conversation with Rob’s wife and sister. When they all looked up at him at the very same moment with their gazes narrowed, a strange fear shot through him. Oh, he’d faced death and dismemberment in his life already, but the thought of being in the aim of these three women terrified him...as it would any sensible man who had even a bit of self-preservation in his blood.

      ‘Is the discussion finished then?’ Arabella asked first.

      ‘Nay, it continues without me.’

      ‘If it involves the Camerons, why are you not there?’ she asked, probing into uncomfortable matters as she always did—with a remarkable sense of what would be best left untouched. He did not question how she knew Brodie discussed the Camerons, for she had as many sources of knowledge and gossip as her husband did, possibly more.

      ‘The Mackintosh dismissed me.’

      The three let out gasps as one and leaned back in their chairs, surprised by this news.

      ‘And you know not why?’ Eva asked.

      Rob’s wife was no stranger to the machinations and manipulations of clan chiefs. Her own father had forced her into marriage with Brodie’s closest friend for his own benefit. For them, though, the marriage had turned out for the best.

      ‘I am not privy to Brodie’s reasons,’ he said. Not exactly the truth, but close enough for now. ‘Mayhap Arabella can discover it when he returns to their chambers?’ Alan held out his hand to his cousin. ‘Which is where he’s asked me to take you.’

      The women looked one to the other before looking back at him. He continued to wait for Arabella to take his hand. Arabella took pity on him and rose from her chair then, accepting his arm and nodding to Eva and Margaret. From the expressions on those two faces, Alan understood that they expected that she would reveal the reason he was expelled from Brodie’s gathering and what was truly happening.

      She remained silent as they walked through the hall, up the stairway that led to their chambers. But he knew that restraint would not last long once they reached the privacy promised in her room. Tempted to leave the door ajar, he waited for her to enter before standing before it.

      ‘Oh, do close the door, Alan. You know that will not stop me from having my say or asking my questions of you.’

      He did as she ordered and watched as she crossed the room and poured wine into two waiting cups. She carried them to the small table in the corner and sat, arching a brow to give him another order without words. Alan sat and accepted one of the cups.

      ‘So, Brodie truly dismissed you? What were his words?’ she asked, taking a sip from her cup.

      ‘He simply bade me to bring you here.’

      Her foot tapped impatiently on the floor between them. Arabella would think on this until she was ready to pounce. Or until her husband arrived.

      ‘You will not reveal to me the purpose of calling you all together?’

      ‘I will say it involves the Camerons and the Mackintoshes.’

      Alan waited for the explosion of temper from his cousin, but none came. Instead, she pursed her lips and looked over his shoulder towards the door. He turned and saw Brodie standing there.

      ‘Come now, Bella,’ Brodie said, walking to where they sat. ‘Abusing your cousin will not loosen his lips. You should know that by now.’ Alan tried to