…
Alasdair bit back a groan the next morning when Gavin Campbell appeared in the doorway to Mount Stuart’s office. Since it was just after nine of the clock, he was pretty sure the man had not stopped by just to say hello.
“What brings ye out so early?”
Gavin laid a sheaf of papers on the desk Alasdair was using and nodded a greeting to the viscount. “This is another deed given to Argyll by James VII for more land just north of Glen Strae.”
“ThatKing James was deposed, if ye remember,” Alasdair said.
Gavin frowned. “That does not make the deed invalid.”
“It might,” Alasdair countered. “King George could declare them invalid.”
Mount Stuart cleared his throat and they both looked at him.
“I strongly suspect that His Majesty is going to leave the settlements to Parliament,” he said, “especially after he received word yesterday that there was a battle at Lexington and Concord in the Massachusetts Bay Colony,” he said. “A lot of MP’s are speculating this is the beginning of a war for independence.”
Alasdair grimaced. Just what they didn’t need. A damn revolution on the other side of the Atlantic to distract the king. Not that he hadn’t already been distracted since those same rebels had tossed English tea into their harbor more than a year ago, but Alasdair had hoped they could get the matter of returning MacGregor lands settled before total conflict broke out. It didn’t look like that was going to happen.
“Has His Majesty called for a special meeting of Parliament to declare war?” Gavin asked.
“Not yet, but I imagine he will very shortly.”
“That means my uncle will be coming to London then.”
Which probably also meant Melissa’s father would be returning. Anything as important as declaring war would bring every duke in the country back to Westminster, although amid the talks, Oakley might not be inclined to get involved in the MacGregor lands dispute.
“Will ye be returning home then?”
Gavin raised a brow. “Do you want to get rid of me?”
“Did I say that?”
“You did not have to.” Gavin looked at the papers he’d set down. “This is my assignment. I will see it through.” He grinned suddenly. “Besides, I have grown rather fond of Fiona.”
Alasdair barely managed to suppress a growl. Campbell was baiting him, and he wasn’t going to take it. “I have to inform ye then, that my sister has nae mentioned similar feelings for ye.”
Gavin studied him for a moment, his grin fading. “She has not fallen for Taylor, has she?”
The seriousness in his tone made Alasdair wonder suddenly if Campbell wasn’t joking about Fiona. He clenched his jaw. “I have forbidden her to go back to the docks.”
Mount Stuart cleared his throat again, and Gavin raised a brow once more. “I am sure she willobeyyourorders, since our Fiona is such a biddable lass.”
“She had better…” Alasdair frowned. “Did ye just say ‘our’ Fiona?”
“I believe I did.” Gavin leveled a look at him that was just short of being a challenge before he shrugged. “MacGregor. I have known ye and Fiona since we were all bairns. We may not be friends, but we are neighbors. And we areScots.” He gestured to the papers. “In spite of our differences.”
Those “differences” made all thedifferenceto MacGregors, since the lands had originally been theirs. Argyll could easily afford to give up five hundred hectares, since Campbell holdings were vast. And, ironically, Gavin putting it into words made the gap between their clans all the more apparent. Still, there was no sense in arguing the point, although he couldn’t resist a warning.
“Neighbors who keep their distance are good neighbors.”
“London is a rather crowded city,” Gavin replied, ignoring the barb.
“Ye ken what I mean. Doona trifle with my sister.”
“I have no intentions of trifling,” he answered, “but I do not like Erik Taylor any better than you do. There is something about the man that sets me on edge.”
“I agree with ye on that,” Alasdair said grudgingly. “I have not been able to get much information on him. Nae a person seems to ken anything.”
