Marsaili shifted on Cameron’s horse. “I ken it seems I betrayed her to ye and to her, but I only thought to defend her. She dunnae ken our father as I do.”
He considered the many things he’d like to learn and carefully decided what to ask first. “And why is that?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.
Marsaili nibbled her lip for a long moment before answering. “Isobel did nae ever live with him. She was sent to live at Iona Nunnery directly after her mother died in childbirth.”
He nodded as he glanced at the sleeping woman in his arms. Her having been sent away for her whole life explained a great deal about why she thought her father honorable. Most likely, Campbell had hidden his true self from her, and Graham did not need to speculate why. He knew well that Isobel could not inherit Brigid until she was eighteen, nor could she be married before then without losing her inheritance. Her father had sent her away and made her think he loved her so that she would willingly do his bidding and marry as he wished when he finally brought her home.
In truth, it was well-known that her grandmother, who was speculated to be a seer, had cursed her husband the day Isobel’s mother had died. The grandmother blamed her husband for her daughter’s death because he had forced Isobel’s mother to marry the Campbell, whose ill treatment had killed her.
Isobel stirred in his arms then. Any moment she would wake. “How often did Isobel see yer father?” he asked.
“Once a year on her birthday,” Marsaili replied. “I did nae meet her until she arrived home yesterday. None but our father, Findlay, and Colin ever met her.”
The information surprised him. He stopped in front of the stream to allow his horse to drink, and he watched as Cameron brought his horse up beside Dante. Isobel’s breath was no longer deep against him. He knew instantly that she was feigning sleep, but he said nothing. Instead, he asked again what he wanted to know—and what he suspected Isobel wished to know. “Why did ye betray yer family, Marsaili?”
She gazed warily at Graham. “I wished to keep Isobel safe from harm.”
“Perchance,” he agreed. “But there is more. If ye dunnae tell me the whole of it now, I’ll nae allow ye to go one step farther with us. I’ll leave ye here for whoever may discover ye.”
Marsaili’s mouth dropped open. “Ye would nae!”
He felt Isobel tense, but she still pretended to be asleep. In truth, he would never leave a woman to be ravaged, no matter how deceitful she was. But he would tie her up and treat her more like a prisoner than an ally, and he would make threats to get the information he desired.
He narrowed his eyes. “Are ye willing to risk it?”
“I am nae a Campbell!” she cried out.
He frowned. “What say ye?”
She glanced fearfully toward his men, who had stopped their horses some distance back, and he realized she was afraid to speak with so many listening. He moved his horse farther away and motioned for Cameron to do the same. “Ye may speak freely now,” he ordered.
Lines of tension came to her forehead. “My father,” she paused and swallowed hard, “he ravished yer mother years ago when the clans were together for a tournament.”
He could feel Isobel’s heartbeat triple under the press of his palm, even as his own did. Memories of his parents fighting, and his mother being with bairn and then no longer having one in her belly, and the bairn being gone filled Graham’s mind. Then the memory of his mother telling his father that the Campbell had ravaged her came to him. He knew it was true. He knew his father had known and was one of the reasons he hated the Campbell so much, but he had never known that there had been a bairn born of that ravishment until this moment.
He locked gazes with his brother, who looked confused. Cameron had not known any of this. No one had except Graham and his parents.
“Did my mother want ye?” Cameron asked.
“She did nae want me, Helena said. I dunnae even ken I was nae Jean’s daughter until Helena told me out of anger some months before she went to Dunvegan. She gave me this.” Marsaili pulled a chain from around her neck that had a ring dangling from it. She took off the chain and handed it to Graham who held out his hand.
His heart thudded as he looked at his mother’s ring.
Marsaili took a long, shuddering breath. “I have been treated terribly by my brothers, Helena, and Jean all my life. And my father, he treats me with coldness. I ken he keeps me around with the hope that he can someday use me to harm yer family. I—”
Isobel jerked upright so quickly that she nearly toppled off the horse. With a muffled curse, Graham reached out, set her feet on the ground, and steadied her. He dismounted beside her and watched as her neck and chest flushed a deep crimson, revealing her anger. Across her pale, beautiful face, the heat of her indignation spread like fire. “I’m certain ye have the wrong of it, Marsaili! Ye said yerself that Helena was evil. Father would nae have ravished yer mother, Graham.”
“He did,” Graham growled.
Isobel shook her head. “Ye hate my father. Ye’ll believe anything bad about him.”
“Nay,” he said flatly. “My mother told me this secret years ago.”
“By Christ, why did ye nae tell me?” Cameron demanded.
Graham looked to his brother. “She made me vow to keep her secret always. Surely, ye see I had to?”
Cameron looked as if he wanted to protest, but he nodded reluctantly. “I can see that.”
