The Thistle and the Rose(12)

As daylight faded outside the window, Celia inspected the reflection in the long looking glass that Agnes's troops had brought in. The bold, confident eyes that sparkled. The full lips that seemed to dominate even the rich color of the gown. Celia saw in that mirrored face a beauty that was not her own. A beauty that was mocking her. The image that looked back at her belonged to someone else.

Lady Caithness had arrived at Kildalton Castle.





Chapter 5





I knew the two were getting as sick of this as I, but I never thought they would be so free with their opinions. So he guts them like animals. These are his own soldiers, good English soldiers...and Danvers hacks them up like meat. And we watch. We all just watch.



Kildalton Castle was too crowded for Colin's liking.

The crowd that filled the space between the long tables of the South Hall acted more like a group of rioters than an assembly of dinner guests. Colin's eyes traveled upward to the colorful tapestry above the fireplace at the far end of the hall. It was depiction of a garden and lovers lost in the bloom of romantic love. The woman with the dark maroon dress held a white rose and seemed to look out across the room at him. Since childhood, Colin had always been affected by the tranquility of that look.



On the dais, behind the head table, the giant warrior stood with his back to the small fire, his massive shoulders resting against the mantel, and his muscular arms crossed in front of him. Bear was stretched out at Colin's feet, the black dog’s huge head resting on his master's boot.

There were so many things left to do, Colin thought. These first days back were always so busy. On top of meeting with the Campbell clan's advising councilors regarding routine management issues, Colin had also needed to discuss with them the chieftains' meeting at Dunvegan. The day had been too far gone when those discussions ended for Colin to go into the village as he'd hoped.

For two years now Colin had been virtual chieftain of the Campbell clan, relieving his father of the grueling responsibilities that the position entailed. Hugh Campbell would retain the title of laird for as long as he lived, and that was just as Colin wanted it to be. Lord Hugh still sat at the head of the council, and his advice was actively sought and given, but Colin now made the decisions for the clan's future.

Not that his father was not capable or unwilling to make his presence felt. Colin smiled, thinking about the day's meeting when several of the members of the council had expressed their concerns over the potential vulnerability of the Campbell clan in standing alone against the other Highland clans. Their arguments had scarcely concluded when Lord Hugh stood up from the long table with a face that made no attempt to hide the wrath that was boiling up within him. Colin's ears still rang with the words of the angry chief.

“If it were up to some of you,” Lord Hugh had begun, his voice rising in volume as he gave vent to his fury, “the Campbell clan would still be sailing in dugout canoes and living in stone huts with our oxen and our sheep! Where were you with this spineless counsel when Colin set off to Dunvegan. We all knew the risks of taking this position. But the risks of going along with the fools that Colin met with have greater consequences.

“Do you want your families dragged off or slaughtered by the English? Do you want to give up all the comforts and advances that we have achieved over the last forty years? Are you prepared to give up the freedom and independence that Scottish blood has bought?

“Have you forgotten what ten thousand of our brothers died for at Flodden, only seven months ago? Are you ready to trade their sacrifice for a future of fear and slavery?”



The silence of shamefaced assent that followed Lord Hugh's speech was now replaced in that hall by the carnival uproar of the dinner horde, and Colin knew that the councilors were convinced.

The younger Campbell looked around the room with pride. There, in front of the dais, his father stood with Alec, Edmund, and some of those same councilors, their conversation animated with gestures, as they tried to communicate over the ruckus that surrounded them. Colin could tell that his father was trying to convey some new idea that he'd had to the others.

The Campbell lairds had always been people of great vision, with far-reaching projects that changed and improved the lives of those around them.

Colin Campbell was no different.

As a child, Colin had been naturally drawn to the life of the warrior. Almost instinctively, he knew that his chief responsibility would be to protect the people who lived in the shadow of the Campbell name. And that suited the boy.

When Lord Hugh had taken Colin to St. Andrew's to complete his education, Colin's horizons as a leader had been broadened. All along the way the boy had seen people, ragged and thin, living in windowless turf huts, seemingly unable to help themselves to a better way of life. In the villages he had seen peasants who had been driven off their small farms by the lairds who were enclosing the land for sheep. All beggars now, joining the hungry fringe of war cripples and lepers. Colin was only fourteen years old, but mature enough to recognize widespread deprivation when he saw it. It seemed to him that the entire lower class folk of Scotland were suffering.

Colin's eyes were opened to the realization that mere protection was not enough. The future Campbell laird had promised himself then that the people who depended on him would never know this kind of poverty and suffering. So he had set his mind to change things, to try new ways. If need be, he'd break the yoke of tradition and encourage the innovative, the untried ideas. Colin knew that for his people to thrive, it was change that was needed.

This was the source of Colin's vision.



Lost in his thoughts, Colin was the last person in the room to be aware of her presence. But when he looked up, he felt his chest tighten with a suddenness that shocked him.

Last night, in her room, his first reaction had been to a vision, a dream. He'd thought to himself, beauty such as this cannot exist in real flesh and blood. She stirred human desires in him, true. But she...she looked like a goddess.

But that was last night. Thinking more about her in the clear light of day, Colin had decided that it was the situation, the context, his fatigue, the surprise that had made her appear to be more than what she really is. It was his weary mind playing tricks on his wearier body that had created the illusion.

But tonight...

This vision before his eyes was indeed very much of this earth. Lady Caithness was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

He watched as her eyes roamed the room, resting momentarily on those who stood in hushed awe. And then her gaze embraced his own.

Her large, dark eyes were direct, captivating. For a moment Colin felt himself getting lost in that gaze, falling in some airy space of unfathomable depth.

She stood there waiting and her eyes never left his. It was as though she were asking him something that he could not define. This questioning look was meant for him; he knew that.

Suddenly he realized that she had not yet entered the hall. Could it be that she was waiting for a sign from him? An invitation from him? This, Colin had not expected.

Slowly, imperceptibly to all but Lady Caithness, Colin straightened from the mantel and nodded once to the woman before him.



Celia had needed to find Colin first.

Oh, yes, she was certain that by now he would have heard of Lady Caithness's reputation. Celia was sorry that she’d agreed to assume her identity. Of all people, Lady Caithness, the free-spirited Lady Caithness. Although she had never met his friend, Alec Macpherson, Celia knew of the Macpherson brothers. Alec was sure to have heard the stories from them. He was sure to have told Colin.

Stepping down the great staircase, wearing his mother's dress, Celia knew that she could not avoid seeing him, speaking with him, probably even sitting beside him. And something inside her wanted to make a separate peace with Colin Campbell.

Celia wanted to make sure that Colin did not mistake her intentions. She was certainly not in search of a husband. Not him. Not his father.

And Colin could easily come to that conclusion, she was certain of that. It was only logical. And the future Campbell lord was probably being chased by every available woman in Scotland...and then some.

As she'd reached the foot of the great staircase, she asked herself why she cared at all what Colin Campbell thought of her personally. She'd be leaving soon enough.

But stopping at the doorway of the South Hall, Celia's eyes found his immediately in that crowded hall. He might have been the only man standing there, because he was the only thing she could see.

Colin Campbell was a beautiful sight, and Celia was having difficulty remembering how to breathe. Her reaction to this warrior was inexplicable. She couldn't stop staring at him.

All she knew at this moment was that she did care.

As if they were the only two people in the room, Celia understood when Colin nodded to her. She stepped into the hall.



Lord Hugh was hardly gentle as he bulled his way through the guests to reach her. She'd made her appearance; he was not going to let her get away.

Suddenly, as he broke through the crowd, the full effect of this woman hit him. Like a hot iron spike in his heart, something about Lady Caithness reminded him of the woman he had lost twenty-five years earlier. The woman he had never stopped loving. The woman he would never replace.

The kind of woman he had been hoping his son would also find.



“Lady Caithness! Come in, come in, my dear,” Hugh boomed, taking her by the hand and leading her into the hall. “I am so happy that you’ve joined us tonight. And Runt tells me that last night I completely ruined any chance of introducing you properly to my son and his friend. Please give an ignorant old boor a chance to do it properly.”