The Clan MacDougall Series (137 page)

His father had been extraordinarily surprised as well as pleased to learn that Gillon had successfully convinced the girl to marry him. James hadn’t asked outright what Gillon had done to turn the lass’ head so and in such a quick manner, for he had been far too happy with the news.

Gillon had known the truth for quite some time now. James Randolph was not his blood father. It wasn’t James Randolph’s blood that ran through his veins. Nay, he was not weak like the man who claimed to be his father.

As a younger boy, Gillon had always suspected something was wrong with his mother as well as with the man who called him son. It wasn’t until his mother’s death three years ago that he learned the truth of his conception, the truth of his mother’s whoring ways.

At first he had mourned her death, had missed her terribly. Then a man—a man Gillon felt an immediate connection to, a connection he’d never felt with James Randolph—stepped from the dark shadows and told Gillon the truth.

His mother had been quite the whore in her younger days and Gillon had been born the result of her inability to keep her legs together whenever James was away. There was much doubt as to who fathered his four sisters. Who knew if any of them belonged to James or to some other man?

Gillon didn’t much care, for soon, they’d all bow at his feet. Everyone in his clan would. Everyone in attendance at the festival and games would bow before him. All of Scotland would.

Gillon paced, growing impatient as the moments passed by, as he waited for his blood father to appear. He tried to quell his growing anger and frustration by thinking of his future. Within a year’s time, all of Scotland would know his name and people would quake with fear at the mere mention of it. It was his destiny and he would not be denied.

He knew he could not wait for James to die of natural causes. Nay, James Randolph was far too healthy a man to hope he would die soon. So Gillon would take matters into his own hands to insure that all he’d been working for these past few years would come to fruition.

Gillon looked forward to James’ death with great anticipation. He could hardly wait for the moment when he would tell James Randolph that he knew the truth. That he knew James had lied to him all these years.

He would tell him as he lay dying, a painful, agonizing death. James Randolph’s last images on earth would be of Gillon and his
real
father. James’ last thoughts would be filled with regret as well as fear. For in his last moments on earth, he would know that Gillon would no longer be denied that to which he was entitled. No longer would he look at Gillon with shame. Nay, his eyes would be filled with fear. Fear in knowing that all that James had tried to quash twenty years ago, was born again and that more than one man’s destiny would finally be filled.

Oh, how he relished the thought of confronting him, of letting him know he knew, that he knew all of it. That James had stolen everything he owned, had taken it from Gillon’s blood father out of spite and jealousy. James Randolph, by rights, should never have been the chief of Clan Randolph. He had no right to it, by birth or by law.

To the world, James Randolph appeared to be an honorable, honest man. People looked up to him, they admired him, and they believed and trusted him. When the rest of Scotland learned that James was no better than a common thief, that he had killed the true heir and the rightful chief of Clan Randolph for his own selfish pursuits, they’d no longer hold him in such high esteem. They’d spit every time the name James Randolph was mentioned.

A smile formed on Gillon’s lips when he thought about that moment. Revenge would be his and it would come very soon.

His hand immediately went to the hilt of his sword when he heard the latch on the door being lifted. Even though only one man knew he was waiting in the tower, one couldn’t be too careful. The door pushed open ever so quietly and a moment later a shadow stepped into the room. Gillon smiled and let loose a sigh of relief.

“Da,” he said happily as the man walked toward him.

“Son,” the shadow whispered. “I hear the lass has agreed to marry ye.”

Gillon nodded his head and smiled. “Aye, she has. It did no’ take much to convince her.”

The shadow crossed the room to look out the narrow window. He stood silently for a time before speaking over his shoulder. “’Ye’ve done good, son. I be verra proud of ye. Our plan is falling into place verra nicely. The lass is a bonus, to be certain. We need to have ye married as soon as possible of course.”

Gillon didn’t understand the need to marry quickly and asked his father to explain.

“Ye will give James the poison only after ye marry Bree McKenna. After he’s dead and we tell the world the truth, Angus will be so worried fer his daughter’s safety that he’ll agree to anything.”

Sudden awareness dawned in Gillon’s eyes. He had not thought of how the marriage would affect Angus McKenna. He’d only been concerned with the thought of bedding the virginal Bree and the eventual death of her inane happy spirit.

“Angus has no’ yet agreed to the union, da,” Gillon informed him.

“But he will. Ye need to work on Bree. If she is insistent that ye marry soon, she’ll be able to convince her da of it with that bonny smile of hers. Fathers can seldom say no to their children.”

Gillon didn’t think that necessarily true, for James had often told him no. But then, he wasn’t really James Randolph’s son to begin with, so that may have played a part in how he treated Gillon.

A
ngus McKenna could never be mistaken for a foolish nor stupid man. From the moment Bree came to him asking permission to marry Gillon Randolph, he knew something had gone horribly awry. He had agreed only to Gillon courting his youngest daughter as a means of showing James Randolph that his intentions toward the Randolph clan were good. He hadn’t meant for his daughter to be swept away by Gillon.

Isobel agreed with Angus’ instincts that Bree was being less than genuine and honest with them. He was glad his wife had also seen through their daughter’s lie. They both knew that Bree didn’t care for Gillon any more than they believed she’d fallen in love with the little bastard.

Something more was afoot and it did not take long to determine what had happened. James Randolph had broken his promise not to tell Bree the true reasons behind Gillon courting her. It was the only plausible explanation for her sudden interest in marriage.

Thus, Angus called another private meeting, this time, with only a handful of men. Men that he trusted and whose council he put good store in.

Duncan sat to Angus’ right, with Wee William to his left. Rowan and Black Richard sat on either side of them. Directly across from Angus sat Nial McKee, Caelen McDunnah, and Findley McKenna.

Findley, Angus’ nephew by blood, was now a laird of a vast estate in the eastern part of Scotland, a day’s ride from Stirling Castle and more than a week’s travel from Castle Gregor. Findley and his new family had arrived just that morning to participate in the festival and games. He hadn’t been included in the meeting of the seven clans for several reasons, the primary one being he’d sworn his fealty to Angus years ago. He swore it again just a few short months ago, after Angus and the others in attendance had helped him to free Maggy Boyle from Malcolm Buchannan. Findley had married Maggy not long after and together they were raising her five sons and rebuilding her estate.

These were the men Angus trusted, not only with his own life, but the lives of his wife and children.

“So, ye think James Randolph broke his word to ye?” Wee William asked.

Angus studied him for a moment. It had been more than a month since Wee William had shaved his face and married Nora. Angus didn’t think he’d ever get used to seeing Wee William without all that hair and his long beard.

“Aye, I do.”

“But why would he do such a thing?” Wee William asked. “He had already signed the agreement. What good could come of tellin’ Bree?”

“I do no’ think it was James,” Nial offered up. “I think ’twas Gillon. I told ye from the start I did no’ trust the little bastard.”

“We all ken how ye feel about Gillon, Nial,” Angus said gruffly.

“I feel the same,” Caelen said. “The lad is no’ to be trusted.”

Angus let out a frustrated breath. “It matters no’
which
of them told her. The point is, she’s insistin’ on marryin’ the boy, and she’ll no confess the truth.”

Low burning embers crackled softly as each man sat in stony silence. There was not a man in the room who did not hold a special place in his heart for Bree. They would do whatever they could to either change her mind or protect her from making the biggest mistake of her life.

Nial worked his jaw back and forth. The more he thought of Bree marrying Gillon, the more enraged he became. She was too beautiful, too sweet, and far too innocent to understand the consequences of marrying Gillon Randolph. Bree deserved a far better man for a husband than the young lad who made the hair on the back of Nial’s neck stand on edge each time he was in his presence.

“So will ye allow her to marry him?” Nial asked. He’d already made up his mind that if Angus agreed to the union, he’d kill Gillon before the boy had time to rejoice at the news.

“Nay, I shall no’ allow it. I do no’ like the little shite any more than ye do,” Angus told him.

Nial breathed a barely perceptible sigh of relief as he cast a look at Caelen. For a brief moment, Caelen looked let down by the news. Nial supposed the man was disappointed that he’d not get the chance to take Gillon Randolph’s life.

“So why are we here, Angus?” Findley asked. He had been sitting quietly, with his chin resting on his fingers and his index finger near his temple.

Angus took a deep breath in, held it for a moment before releasing it slowly. “I fear there is somethin’ amiss. Somethin’ I can’t quite put me finger to. It warns me we’ve a traitor in our midst.”

The men looked at each other. Wee William sat forward in his chair. “A traitor? Among the MacDougall clan?” It was not easy for Wee William to believe one of their own would turn against them.

“Nay, not among our clan, Wee William,” Angus said as he leaned back in his chair. “I fear it be one of the seven who signed the agreement of peace.”

Nial and Caelen looked to one another. Something silent passed between them and it did not go unnoticed by Angus.

“I do no’ believe it be either of
ye,
lads,” Angus said. His voice was low and steady. “Elst I would no’ have ye here this night.”

Rowan had been listening intently. There was no way on God’s earth that Angus could believe that his father, Andrew Graham, was a traitor. But his lack of presence in the meeting gave Rowan pause. “Do you think me father a traitor?” he asked, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

Angus shook his head. “Nay, I do no’. But I fear we must be verra careful from this point forward. The fewer people who are aware of my suspicions, the better off we’ll be. Yer da is no more a traitor than I.”

Angus’ statement did nothing to make Rowan feel better. “If ye do no’ consider me da a traitor, then why is he no’ here?”

“Rowan, do no’ be offended!” Angus barked at him. “I’ve already spoken privately with yer da, he’s well aware of me suspicions. He agreed to no’ attend. No one will suspect anything unusual in the seven of us meeting.”

Rowan sat back in his seat, glad to know that Angus had already discussed his concerns with Andrew.

“So who do ye think it be?” Wee William asked as he shrugged first one shoulder, then the other, to work out the kinks in his neck. He was tired and sorely missing his wife.

“I prefer to keep that to meself fer now,” Angus said. Before anyone could protest, he explained his thinking to them.

“I do no’ want me own suspicions to keep any of ye from seein’ somethin’ that I canna see. There be a good chance I’m wrong. I do no’ want me own suspicions cloudin’ yer good judgments. If I’m right, then I ken I haven’t lost too much of me senses with me auld age,” he smiled at the men.

Findley, Wee William and Duncan chuckled softly. The other men were in far more serious moods. “And if I be wrong, I trust ye’ll bring it to me attention one way or another.”

“So what is the plan then, Angus?” Duncan asked.

“Bree will no’ tell me the truth. James and Gillon Randolph are anxiously awaiting me decision. I fear that if I say nay, without good cause, James will do somethin’ stupid and back out of the agreement. So,” Angus said as he looked at both Duncan and Wee William, “I want to enlist yer wives to help.”

Wee William and Duncan looked at one another before turning back to Angus.

“I fear Bree willna talk to me or her mum on this. She may however, speak to yer wives. Aishlinn be her sister and Nora a good friend. Mayhap the two of them can find out
why
Bree is insistin’ on marryin’ Gillon. While they do that, I’ll tell James that I’ll give me answer in five days, before we call an end to the festival. That should buy us time to learn if there is truly a traitor among us or no’.”

The men agreed that it was a good plan to start with. Each man would be keeping a close eye on Bree as well as looking for anything out of the ordinary as it pertained to the other chiefs who had signed the peace agreement.