A Promise for Tomorrow Read online

  Somehow I doubted the Campbell holding would be that sophisticated or modern. The castle itself was centuries old, and in need of repair, if what my cousin Alistair had told us was true.

  “Thank you.” I placed the blanket at my feet as my eyes met Collin’s. I recognized the inner struggle raging in his that I’d seen so many times in the previous days. “Thank you for keeping me warm all those nights and for bringing me safely here.”

  “There’s a bit of a question as to who was warming who,” he mumbled as he turned away.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Collin spread his blanket out near the door, well away from me and the warmth of the fire. He removed his boots for the second time, then stretched out on his back, hands behind his head, reminding me of that first night we had slept under the stars together.

  It had been a terrifying night, between his twin brother’s attempt on my life and then an attack by a member of my own clan. But I would go through both again for the opportunity to relive the past week at Collin’s side. Something had changed between us during that time, and I feared losing it now that we were no longer alone.

  “It will be warmer sleeping here by the fire than near the door with its draft,” I suggested casually.

  “Near the door is where I must be,” Collin said. “Lest anyone tries to break it down.”

  I pulled the brush through a particularly stubborn tangle. “And did they, it could fall on your head and render you unconscious. What good would you be to us then?”

  “I would hear them before it came down, and I would be ready the second they tried to enter.” Collin sounded almost enthused about the possibility, as if he was looking for a fight.

  “Let us hope so,” I said, giving up the idea that he might sleep nearer me. Finished with the brush, I knelt before the fire, leaning my head close so my hair might dry.

  The room grew silent, save for an occasional snore from Liusaidh on the other side of the partition or the crackle of the burning wood. I stared into the flames, wondering and worrying over what tomorrow would bring. I was here to claim my grandfather’s inheritance and to take my place as leader of the Campbells. The present laird favored neither option. And I did not favor our inevitable confrontation.

  “You’ve grown up bonny, Katie.”

  I turned to look at Collin. “Thank you. You cut a fine figure yourself. I cannot tell you how relieved I was when I realized it was you whom I was to marry— and not any of my Campbell relations.”

  Collin chuckled. “You’ve no preference for red hair, then.”

  “It is a fine color,” I said, thinking how well it seemed to suit Alistair. “But I prefer your dark.” I prefer you.

  Emboldened by his unexpected compliment, I decided to be direct and ask what I wished. “Will you sleep beside me, Collin? Or may I sleep over there by you?” My request tumbled out in a rush of words as I leaned forward slightly on my knees, exhilarated by my boldness and anticipating another night in Collin’s arms.

  He hesitated, then shook his head. “It would not be wise.”

  Why? I wanted to ask but felt too hurt. I turned myself from him, focusing my attention on the dying flames and trying to keep my promise to be done with tears. I could feel Collin pulling away from me again, and I didn’t understand or like it. I needed him. I thought he needed me.

  Grandfather had said we needed each other. The only way we were to succeed in our quest was together. But I was only a few paces away from Collin, and I felt the gap between us widening as it had been before.

  Chapter Two

  Alistair, Finlay, and another Campbell clansman arrived first thing in the morning, before dawn had pinked the sky. Collin had woken me minutes before, and I had barely enough time, even with Liusaidh’s help, to dress before the knock at her door.

  “Edan has been the keeper of your grandfather’s records for many years,” Alistair explained by way of introduction to the short, thin, white-haired man. “As such, we’ve been the keeper of Edan these past years, secreting him away shortly after your grandfather’s passing. He’s come today so you can sign for ownership of the estate.”

  With a slight bow, Edan stepped forward and placed a sheaf of papers on the narrow table. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady, and to see all unfolding precisely as your grandfather predicted.” He cast a quick glance at Liusaidh, preparing tea at the stove. “And thank you, Liusaidh, for sending word so quickly.”

  We gathered around the table, Edan and I using the only chairs, and he proceeded to untie the bundled documents. For the next half hour I listened attentively as he explained my grandfather’s will and the process by which he had enabled me to inherit.

  “Typically the laird of a clan is the male who holds title to the castle or dwelling on the property owned by a clan. While not an official requirement, it is always a male to whom this honor passes, as is the case with the Campbells at present. Your grandfather died without a male heir, as did his only child. Therefore the lairdship has been claimed— note, I say claimed— by your grandfather’s great nephew.”

  “None of this sounds very hopeful,” I said, though part of me found it very much so. What did I know of this people and land? Who was I to claim anything?

  “Ah,” Edan said, his lips twitching. “But there are ways for women to circumvent some of these restrictions, or at least to vary them.”

  “Do tell,” Collin said, growing impatient, I could see, given his frequent glances toward the door.

  “You are the male standing to benefit from this lady’s inheritance, are you not?” Edan turned in his chair and gave Collin a shrewd look.

  “If you consider being co-owner of a pile of ancient stone and having the responsibility of ousting its current occupant a benefit, then yes,” Collin answered. “Neither Katie nor I do this for money. I have my own keep to manage, and Katie’s dowry was substantial enough that the two of us would be well provided for without her grandfather’s estate.”

  The two of us... I wondered briefly if that was Collin’s fantasy as well— that we might simply forget both of our ailing clans and start a life together without those burdens. If so, it was only a dream. In the fortnight of our marriage I’d come to know he was too good, too loyal to walk away. And strangely, I was starting to feel the same myself. As much as I didn’t want this responsibility, I felt I must accept it and do what I could to help my mother’s people.

  Edan continued his fixed stare at Collin, as if judging the truthfulness of his words. “Bold and defiant, aren’t you? I suppose that’s why the old laird liked you so much.”

  “Collin’s all right,” Alistair vouched.

  Living up to the labels Edan had just given him, Collin pushed farther. “I should like to sign for Katie’s dowry today. It needs to be claimed and distributed to the MacDonalds as soon as possible to avoid further complications.” He made eye contact with Alistair over Edan’s head.

  Alistair seemed almost to flinch and looked away quickly.

  Odd.

  “There is a time and place for everything,” Edan said. “The time now is for filing these documents. Time enough later for searching out Lady Campbell’s dowry.”

  He referred to me as if I was not married, had not the given name of Mercer, and certainly was not a MacDonald. Perhaps that was the way of things in the Highlands— that a woman retained her maiden name even after marriage, though I’d not held the Campbell name in that regard either. More likely it was that the Campbells— or at least this one— did not approve of my match to a MacDonald.

  “What do you mean, searching?” Collin asked, his calm voice belying the concern I knew he must feel. “Do you not know where the dowry is?”

  “Where it is or is not, is none of my concern.” Edan waved dismissively. Alistair clasped his hands behind his back and pressed his lips together.

  “Search high and low, where not all planted therein doth grow,” Finlay said in his poetic lilt. “There you may find what you seek.”


  “Or may not,” Alistair mumbled. “No one was ever told. And many years have passed since—”

  “This is no game,” Collin interrupted. “Lives depend on that money. If Clan MacDonald doesn’t receive it soon, they’ll come for it themselves.”

  “That is your problem,” Edan insisted. “Mine is ensuring your wife has the legal right to the property left to her. Which— if not swiftly accomplished— poses a great threat to you both.”

  “Best be hurrying,” Liusaidh said, bringing tea to the table with a practiced hand.

  “Not here, please.” Edan flung his arms protectively over the papers. “No offense to you.”

  “None taken.” She poured a cup each for Collin, Finlay, and Alistair to hold where they stood, then returned the kettle to the stove.

  “As I was saying.” Edan cleared his throat and glanced at the documents before him, as if uncertain exactly what he had been saying and where we had arrived at in the process. “The Campbell land belongs to the entire clan, so it is impossible for you, legally, to be named proprietor of such.”

  “Then how is Brann able to evict tenants from it?” I asked.

  “He can’t. Not legally, anyway,” Collin said. “A laird has only as much power as his clan affords him.” For now, at least, he appeared to have abandoned the subject of my dowry.

  “Fear has afforded Brann a great deal,” Finlay said.

  “Time enough to speak on those matters later.” Edan shot both Collin and Finlay a look that clearly said he did not wish to be interrupted again. “Now then— Salic law says that if there are no sons to inherit, the descent passes to daughters rather than to more distant male relatives. Most often this refers to moveable property— livestock and such.”

  “Because a woman cannot own land.” I’d become very aware of this since Father’s passing and my stepmother had lost nearly everything.

  “Correct,” Edan said. “But since we are not speaking of property— land, that is— only the dwelling upon it, your grandfather was able to deed the castle to you. And your husband, if you so choose.” He added this with an undertone that suggested he would not choose such a path, was he in my position.

  “Signatures will be required here, here, and here.” He began shuffling papers in front of me, pointing with a dry quill snatched from his pocket. “I’ve prepared multiple copies of each document. Ink, please.”

  Finlay uncorked a small bottle and handed it to him. Edan dipped the quill in the ink and held it out to me. With a feeling of dread, I accepted it.

  There were places for two signatures on each copy of the document— mine, and my husband’s, if I so chose. With a steady hand I managed to sign my name, feeling a tangible weight settling upon me with every letter. I passed the documents to Collin for his signature as well. It had never been a question. We were in this together, and I wanted him by my side in every way.

  “Are you certain, Katie?” he asked. “It is not required. Your grandfather set this up so you alone could have ownership.”

  I handed him the quill. “I’m sure he wanted this. I want it too.”

  Still Collin hesitated.

  “Go ahead,” Alistair urged. “We haven’t much time. Brann may have heard you are here. He’s spies everywhere.”

  “Brann is the reason you should sign,” Finlay spoke up. “If these papers are safely filed, he’s going to contest this. It’s less likely he will win if a man has been deeded ownership as well.”

  Collin held the quill poised above the paper. “Or would the court be more likely to return the holding to Brann, rather than give it to a MacDonald?”

  “The law operates outside of the clans; it should take into consideration your gender more than your name or affiliation.” Edan spoke with some reluctance. “Under coverture husband and wife are one person, and that person is the husband. Finlay is correct. Katherine will have a better chance at her claim if your name is also on the deed.”

  “Very well,” Collin said.

  I watched as he penned the same fine signature he’d given on our wedding certificate. When finished he handed the packet to Edan, who divided the parchment into three piles and handed the first to Finlay. I watched as he tucked it carefully beneath his shirt.

  Finlay is to deliver them? “I thought—”

  “Thinking is all well and fine,” Alistair said. “Just take care what you speak from here on out.” He clamped a hand on Finlay’s shoulder. “And you take care in all things.”

  “That I will.” Finlay’s smile did not reach his eyes. “It’s not me you’ve need to worry over.” His gaze landed on Edan a second before turning his attention to me. “A moment, if you please, Katherine.”

  “Of course.” I stood and followed Finlay across the small room, feeling Collin’s gaze upon my back. He might have joined us. Anything one of my clansmen had to say to me, they could say to my MacDonald husband as well.

  Finlay stopped near the pile of wood Collin had brought in last night. “I’ve something from your trunk that was left behind. I imagine most young ladies might have wished their gowns saved, but you are not most, and I supposed you might want these more.”

  He seemed almost to trip over the words, and I felt a rush of familial affection as Finlay reached into his sporran. No matter what he’d brought, I was touched that he’d thought of me at all.

  He withdrew two of my paintbrushes.

  “Oh, Finlay, I could kiss you!”

  “Wait. There’s more,” he said almost shyly, as a blush surpassing the red highlights in his hair crept up his face. He stuck his hand in the sporran once more and this time delivered charcoal and three jars of paint to my anxiously waiting hands.

  “Now I shall definitely kiss you,” I exclaimed, giddy at the prospect of being able to paint again.

  “Probably shouldn’t,” Finlay said. “Not with your husband standing right behind.”

  “She has professed to enjoy kissing. Go ahead, Katie.” Amusement, not jealousy, tinged Collin’s words. Taking his suggestion, I leaned forward and kissed Finlay’s flaming cheek.

  He brought a hand up, covering the spot my lips had touched. “Good luck is certain, receiving a kiss from a bonny lass before a long journey.”

  “So you are the one going to deliver the deed?” I looked to his shirt, beneath which the papers were concealed.

  “Aye. I’ll not fail you.”

  The pressure of Collin’s hands on my shoulders ceased my questioning. “We need to go, and so do these men.”

  Why three copies of the documents? Where were the other two headed?

  “These will make it safely to Edinburg,” Finlay promised. “That much I know.”

  Something about the way he spoke the last gave me pause. I looked back at him.

  He gave a slight nod and spoke softly. “Painting, poetry, a ballad or a dream, any of these of the future may speak.”

  I gasped. “You’re a—”

  “I am nothing.” Finlay pressed a finger to his lips. “And most certainly I was not here.” He walked past us to the door. “Take care of our little lass, Collin. Take care of each other.” He pushed open the door, ducked beneath the rafter, and disappeared into the early fog.

  Questions swirled inside my mind, but I held onto these for later. Finlay’s startling revelation demanded my full attention. Another Campbell seer— and a male. Why was he not chosen to lead the clan instead of me? How many others were among us? Was my strange ability perhaps not so strange after all?

  “God speed, friend,” Liusaidh said as Edan, too, rose to leave.

  Their eyes met across the distance of the room, and it seemed to me that they saw one another, though she had no sight.

  “God speed,” he whispered.

  Chapter Three

  My first close look at the castle neither endeared it to me nor stirred any memory. The stone was dark, grey, crumbling in many places, and stacked so high I had to crane my neck to see the top as we rode into its shadow. I’d k
nown I wasn’t to be welcomed by its primary occupant, but I’d hoped to find the castle itself somehow more inviting.

  “It’s ugly,” I declared, feeling less than thrilled with the prospect of living there.

  Behind me I felt Collin’s shoulders lift in a shrug. “It was designed for safety. It’s done its job well enough through the ages— never conquered that I know of.”

  “Until now,” I said, half under my breath. We hoped to conquer, or at least reclaim it for the Campbells... though what they saw in such an ancient edifice was beyond me.

  “See the battlements spaced precisely along the top.” Collin inclined his head slightly but did not look up as I had. I supposed he knew the structure well, every nook and cranny perhaps. He’d lived here far longer than me.

  “They’ve defended your clan numerous times over the years,” he continued. “It may not look like much now, but with some effort I’ve no doubt the keep could be restored and stand many more centuries.”

  “Mmhmm,” I mumbled noncommittally, my mind already racing with the obstacles and dangers to be faced in order to repair the weathered stone, particularly the top tiers.

  “It would have pleased your grandfather to see it as it used to be.” Collin’s arm tightened around me, as if in reminder of our purpose here.

  “I wonder why he did not attempt the task himself.” My grandfather had passed away a few years earlier, before I could return— before I’d even known of him. Until the last week or so, I’d not recalled anything of my younger years in Scotland.

  “Who says he didn’t add fortifications?” Collin hinted in that intriguing way of his. “Maybe he only wished it to look weak, when really...”