Highland Brides 03 - On Bended Knee Read Online Free PDF Page B

thinks the old ways are dead.”
    Merry sat and whined for attention. Broc snapped his fingers and she came loping toward him. He reached out to stroke her back and she sat upon the ground between his legs.
    “With those damned Sassenachs invading our lives, he may well be right!” Colin remarked. “Soon they’ll have no need to raise swords against us! They’ll breed us out of existence! Think we are stupid, do they? That we dinna know their plan! King David is a bloody fool, or a Sassenach one!”
    Broc ignored his dire predictions. He glanced again in the direction of woodlands where Cameron had disappeared, still contemplating his cousin. “He has not taken to Iain’s new wife.”
    “Oh?” Colin lifted both brows. “Why not?”
    “Well… I dinna ken exactly, but I think he does not trust her. He blames her for coming between Iain and Lagan is my guess.”
    Lagan was Iain MacKinnon’s cousin. All Colin knew of the man was that he had tumbled from the cliffs at Chreagach Mhor soon after their return from England. The details, however, were obscure at best, for the MacKinnons were good about keeping their secrets. He would ask Broc, but even as good of friends as they were, Broc was a MacKinnon through and through.
    Colin nodded. “I canna say as I blame him for that. I do not like it much that my sister has wed a gadamn Sassenach, but I would not like it at all were Leith to do so. There is a difference, I think, between a Sassenach bride and the Sassenach bride of a laird.”
    Broc gave him a knowing glance. “Aye, well, soon enough you’ll not have to worry about that. He’ll be wedding MacLean’s daughter.”
    “So it seems,” Colin agreed, dismissing the topic, uncomfortable with it. He was aware of Broc’s continued scrutiny but ignored it.
    That his brother was wedding Alison MacLean did not disturb him in the least. He didn’t want the girl any more now than he did before. That Leith had stepped forward to wed her when Colin could not even abide the sight of her made Colin feel the lesser man. So what if she had crossed eyes? She was sweet and kind, as Meghan had oft pointed out, and Colin didn’t like that part of himself that could not see past her silly imperfection. He had hurt her, he knew. His sister was right; he was a shallow brained oaf.
    “At any rate…” Colin shrugged away his thoughts, “…why should Cameron like her simply because she is Iain’s wife?”
    “’Tis not simply a matter of liking her or not liking her,” Broc revealed. “He does not accord her the respect due her as his laird’s mate. Iain’s patience grows weary.”
    “Then let him suffer Iain’s wrath. Mayhap it will humble him. He could use a bit o’ that, I think.”
    Broc cast him a troubled glance. “I am responsible for my cousin. When his da died, he was left to me to protect—he and his wee sister, Constance, though I do not know what to do with that one! She runs about nakey most o’ the day, chasing after Merry, and there is no one about who can keep her clothes on.”
    Colin chuckled. “And what of Page?” he asked. “Can she not see Cameron is just a boy and simply give him time?”
    Broc frowned. “It isna Page he angers. In truth, she pretends not to notice, but I can see verra well it pains her. Ye canna understand, Colin, and you do not know the whole story. You canna blame FitzSimon’s daughter for what passed between Lagan and Iain simply because she is English. Page had nothing to do with it.”
    Colin cast him a curious glance. “Mayhap, but since when do you go about defending Sassenachs?”
    Broc, Colin knew, had more right than any to loathe them. His own father had been murdered by one—Cameron’s, as well—in defense of their land. Broc had made a lifelong vow to avenge his da. Whatever had happened to change that, Colin didn’t know. He hadn’t seen Broc at all since their return from England where they’d gone to retrieve the MacKinnon’s son from FitzSimon’s