He stood up, towering over the sparely built cleric, and held out his hand as the name of the priest registered with some surprise. Father William is William Dunbar, he thought.
“Is this the same Lowland poet,“ Colin asked, his fierce glare betrayed by the hint of a smile, “the same William Dunbar who devastated the Highland poet Kennedy in a flyting match before the entire court?”
The poetic war of insults between Kennedy and Dunbar had become a legend in Scotland. Only a small portion of the series of competitions had been published in a book, printed with the king's approval in 1508, but the Campbells had a copy at Kildalton, and Colin had laughed heartily at the outrageous exchange of barbs.
“Flyting,” Dunbar said, spreading his hands outward, palms up. “It's just a game of words.”
“Something Father William has plenty of,” Alec grinned. “Trust me; I've been listening for the last half hour.”
“Well, we could always use a bit of wit to lighten the air at Kildalton Castle,” Colin said. “I assume you'll be returning with Celia to my home.”
“Aye,” said the priest. “I will be traveling with the lass.”
“Then we'll see if we can make you a bit more welcome than you were here,” Colin said graciously.
“Thank you for that,” Dunbar replied. “Though a leper would've been more welcome in this den of iniquity than a priest.”
Colin grinned and turned back to Celia, looking down at her. Her gaze locked with his, each lost in the depth of emotions they felt for the other. There was so much that hadn't been said yet, but each knew that the time would come.
“We'll be going home soon,” Colin said, leaning over her, kissing her forehead, caressing her cheek, feeling the smoothness with the back of his hand.
Colin turned to see a surprised expression on Alec's face and a shocked one on the priest's as they watched. As he walked past Dunbar, Colin saw the little man cock an ear dramatically toward the small window of the chamber.
“Well, what do you know?” the priest said wryly. “I just now heard `pirate alerts' sounding up and down the Irish Sea.”
Colin laughed and with a quick look at the puzzled Celia, gestured for the smiling Alec to follow him out past the two fighters standing guard on the landing.
“Celia told me who she is,” Alec said as they went up the stone steps.
“She did?” Colin asked. “How did that come up?”
“When Dunbar was cleaning her wound, Celia and he started recounting all the various times she'd been cut and bruised,” Alec went on. “Did you know, Colin, she actually used to dress up as a squire and train with the king's warriors? This one time when they were with the king at Falkland, she came this close to—”
“Alec, stop,” Colin interrupted. “I do not want to know. Not right now, anyway. You know, these bastards were trying to capture her today.”
“What is this all about, Colin?” Alec asked pensively.
“Perhaps a little talk with Argyll’s henchman will clear some of that up,” he replied forcefully.
As Alec and Colin proceeded up the stairwell, the former paused for a moment and faced his friend.
“Imagine that. John Muir's daughter,” Alec said, a twinkle in his eye. “She's quite a woman, Colin.”
“Well, you can just forget it, Macpherson,” Colin threatened with a pleased smile on his face.
“You're serious?” Alec said with some amazement. “Is it possible that Colin Campbell has met his match?”
Colin looked his friend straight in the eye. “Aye, Alec, I've found my lady.”
“Damn it.” Alec grinned. “And I was growing so fond of her. She even looks after my welfare. Let me know if she decides to dump you.”
“Let's go,” Colin said, pushing his friend up the steps. “We've got work to do, and I'm not leaving you alone with her anymore.”
The confessions of the Argyll man came without any coercion at all. On Danvers's orders Ferret Face, the English agent, had sent men that Argyll had supplied to as many castles in the west as he could. They all had the same directions: to kill the child and capture the lady...alive.
When the Argyll man had returned from Kildalton, he had heard the earl tell the Englishman, who was operating out of the abbey, that he didn't want the child dead. All they had to do was wait, and they all would come to Argyll on their own.
This information matched what Colin had already put together, with the exception of why Danvers wanted Celia. Obviously, Ferret Face had recognized Celia and had planned on taking her back to his master. But why? The English were certainly going to extreme lengths to get her.
When they arrive back at Kildalton, Colin thought, Celia would have to confide the rest in him. It was time.
The troop of Campbell men from Oban had come supplied for a possible siege of Argyll's castle, so Colin gave orders for beginning the reorganization and improvement of the village, the castle, and the farms in the surrounding area.
In the early afternoon, when they were ready to make the short walk down to the harbor for the trip to Kildalton, Celia had to fight off the attentions of all three men. She was improving quickly; even the throbbing in her head was beginning to subside. She certainly didn't need to be carried, and she let them know it in no uncertain terms.
Word had quickly filtered to the people of the Argyll lands, and many had gathered in the village to see the new laird. They all knew what Campbell lordship meant, and many knelt in respect as Colin passed. As Colin and his entourage walked through the village on the way to the ship, Celia could see a marked change in the visages of the people they passed. They were still wearing the rags of Argyll oppression, but they were now also wearing the faces of Campbell optimism.
Once aboard ship Celia applied her decoction of common nightshade to the back of Alec's ear with a patch that was held in place with a leather thong. When he saw her put the patch in place, Colin laughed.
“Are you sure it's not supposed to go over his eye?”
But to Alec's and Colin's amazement, it worked.
The journey back to Kildalton took forever, as far as Colin was concerned. Alec was unaffected by the motion of the ship, and between his attentions and Dunbar's, Celia had no moment alone for Colin. As he stood at the stern of the ship, he looked at the bandaged beauty, still dressed in the boy's clothing. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought of what might have happened had he not spotted the track of dragging feet leading to the tapestry on the landing outside Argyll's chamber.
He had lost control when he'd burst through the door and seen the Englishman looming over Celia. His years of discipline had gone out the window, and his primal instincts had taken over. This was his woman, and he was going to protect her.
Now, he just wanted to take her away. To be alone with her. To make her well and keep her safe.
But he'd clearly have to lock up Alec and this priest Dunbar to do it. And the next time they took Macpherson on a boat, Colin was going to suggest she put that patch over Alec's mouth.
There was a torch-carrying crowd at the harbor when the ship dropped anchor at Kildalton Castle. From small boats, Hugh and Edmund scrambled up the sides of the ship like men half their age. Hugh's face lit with pride as he embraced Colin, and Edmund went directly to Celia, hugging her gently and nodding at Dunbar.
The knight stood with his arms around his niece, thinking to himself that he must be getting old and stodgy. Even though he knew what Celia was capable of—indeed, even though he had encouraged her to develop her fighting skills with the fighters of King James's court—he now could hardly bear the thought of her being hurt or even in danger. She was all he had left in the world.
Hugh and Colin, followed by Alec, walked over to Celia and her uncle. Edmund let go of his niece and turned to Colin, grasping his hand in a warm clasp.
“Thank you for bringing her back safely,” he said, looking at the young warrior with an expression of his gratitude.
Hugh approached Celia with a fatherly smile and wrapped his burly arms around her.
“Aye, Colin,” Lord Hugh boomed, still keeping one arm firmly around Celia's shoulders. “A successful trip all around. But we need to get up to the castle, so you can give us all the details. We need to send a message to Huntly and the other barons about Argyll's treason.”
“Aye, Father,” Colin said. “But I want to get Celia into Agnes's care first. You can see that she's taken a bit of a beating.”
Hugh looked tenderly at Celia's weary face, but noted the clear black eyes flashing in the torchlight. “I do not think she's had more than tough old John Muir's daughter can handle.”
Celia flashed a look from Colin to Edmund, wondering who had revealed her secret. Colin looked as surprised as she felt. She looked back at Lord Hugh, suddenly embarrassed at her ruse. If the Campbell lord had known all along her real identity, then the Caithness deception had certainly been ineffective. But then again, even John Muir's daughter could have married Lord Caithness.
“I knew who Edmund's sister had married,” Hugh said, smiling benignly, answering her unspoken question. “We go back a long way, you know, lass.”
“Did you know my father, m'lord?” Celia asked, recovering.
“Indeed I did,” Lord Hugh laughed, exchanging amused glances with the men standing around. “But I think we could put that little discussion off until after Agnes sees to your injuries.”