The Campbell Trilogy Read Online Free PDF Page A

who’d discovered her.
    Though he doubted she saw it that way.
    He’d had every intention of helping her down from the tree, but something in her tone had provoked him—as if it never occurred to her that someone would refuse. And he’d felt an unexpected urge to tease her. The expression on her face when he’d told her no was priceless: utter bewilderment and confusion. Caitrina Lamont was obviously a lass used to getting her own way.
    He’d thought to teach the haughty minx a lesson by demanding a kiss. He’d had no intention of holding her to their bargain—until she’d tried to outmaneuver him by offering her hand instead. Still, he’d intended only to make her
desire
a kiss—not to actually kiss her. But the sweet taste of her skin, and the even sweeter tremble of innocent passion when his lips pressed against her wrist and arm, had proved too tempting to resist.
    Leaving the shelter of the trees, Jamie slowed his mount as the castle came into view. Ascog Castle, the stronghold of the Lamonts of Ascog, was a simple rectangular tower house of four stories and a garret surrounded by a sturdy
barmkin
wall situated on a small rise on the northern edge of the loch. With the loch to the south, woodlands to the west, and hills to the north, there were plenty of potential hiding places. It was his mission to discover whether anyone was using them.
    Alasdair MacGregor and his men were on the run, and Jamie had the letters of fire and sword that gave him the authority to find them and bring them to justice for the dark deeds done on the day that had become known as the massacre of Glenfruin—the glen of sorrow.
    It wasn’t the first time the MacGregors had been outlawed. The clan had been in trouble with the law off and on for the last eighty years, but for King James, Glenfruin—where over one hundred forty Colquhouns werekilled and every house and barn in Luss burned—had been the last straw. The Privy Council proscribed the clan—forbidden on pain of death even to call themselves MacGregor—and gave orders to hunt down and extirpate them. The commission of doing so had been given to Jamie’s cousin the Earl of Argyll.
    Jamie had followed the trail of rumor, stolen livestock, and burned-out farms throughout Argyll and the borders for the past month. Though all signs pointed to MacGregor heading to his former lands near the Lomond Hills, Jamie thought it was too obvious. Alasdair MacGregor was smarter than that.
    Despite their outlaw status, the MacGregors still had plenty of friends in the Highlands who might be willing to give them shelter—friends like the Lamonts. An old tale of Highland hospitality—the most revered of Highland customs—and a hunch had led Jamie to Ascog instead.
    When he reached the gate, one of the Lamont’s guardsmen stopped him. “Your name, sir.”
    Jamie met his friendly gaze. “James Campbell, captain of Castleswene.”
    All signs of welcome fled, replaced by barely concealed hatred and a healthy dose of fear. It was a reaction that Jamie had grown accustomed to over the past few years. It was also why he’d hesitated to identify himself to the lass. Once again, it appeared that his reputation—exaggerated, no doubt—had preceded him.
    The guardsman tightened his hand on the grip of his sword. “I’ll advise the chief that he has a … guest.” He said the word as if his mouth was full of dung.
    Jamie dismounted and tossed the reins to the surprised guardsman. “I’ll tell him myself,” he said, motioning toward the man who’d just appeared from the armory.
    The guardsman tried to block him. “But you can’t—”
    “Yes,” Jamie cut him off in a low voice, one that augured no argument. “I can.” He stepped around the youngerman. “Lamont.” His voice rang out with authority across the
barmkin.
    The chief turned toward him. Recognition flared in his gaze, and he quickly said something to the two younger men at his side. The Lamont was a seasoned warrior who