He knew the Grants had twice their number, as they were known as the strongest clan in the Highlands.
He knew the Ramsay women were archers who could shoot a man’s bollocks off, if they wished to.
He wasn’t foolish enough to go against either Clan Ramsay or Clan Grant.
But he’d been planning this for a while.
He’d paid men to attack Clan MacQuarie so they would wonder what was coming next. Told them to grab the faery if they saw her. Then he’d started rumors about attacking the clanand taking it over. He didn’t care about MacQuarie Castle at all.
Not yet.
But he did need to halve the forces of Duart Castle, which would happen if they went to assist Chief MacQuarie. That was already set up. The rumor had wings already. He knew that would happen as soon as he had told Neal MacClane of his plans. And Neal had believed every word Ulchel had said.
The plan was in place. The Ramsays would hear that Clan MacQuarie was about to be attacked. They would send half their forces to aid MacQuarie, leaving Duart vulnerable.
His brother would be so proud of him.
But even his brother wouldn’t know what else Ulchel had done. He’d seen Logan Ramsay and followed him one night. That was when he learned of the faery, the one who could grant wishes, but he also learned something else. This was information that would help his brother to get back in good standing with King Robert.
He’d witnessed the fool who had told Logan he was going to take over the isle. Once Ulchel had Duart Castle back for his clan, he’d send a messenger to the Bruce to tell him who was stealing cattle, lying, and doing his best to cause trouble on the Isle of Mull. He knew the identity of the man who vowed to control the isle.
No one else knew but Logan Ramsay. And he’d have to get rid of him somewhere along the way, but not yet.
The first step was capturing Duart Castle.
By the morrow, there would be a large group leaving Duart Castle for the western part of the isle. That would give him the time he needed.
Once they left, he would move in. Start a fire in front of the castle to draw the others out, then he could use the back entrance. If he were to guess, the Ramsays hadn’t discovered the secret entrance his grandfather had made. He’d have a boatwaiting not far away, and once he got the girl, he’d leave.
The girl would be his answer to everything. The faery had to grant him one wish, and he’d take back Duart Castle for Clan MacDougall. For his brother.
The morrow would be his day. They’d all see, and they’d sing his praises soon enough.
Duart Castle would be a MacDougall castle once again.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Thane
Thane did his best to stay hidden as he approached Tamsin from behind. He’d learned she was practicing archery, but he wished to see how she was doing without alerting her to his presence. He didn’t wish to intimidate her, and he feared if she saw him, she would freeze.
The truth of it was that he was jealous. This was a skill he needed, and he planned to learn to shoot in the future, even train some of his men to be archers. Their benefit from the top of a curtain wall is unparalleled.
Leaning up against a tree, he waited, surprised to see her fire two arrows in quick succession, one missing the target but the second one finding its mark just off the center.
“Spit and slime, I thought the first one was perfect.”
He nearly chuckled but contained it. Eli had trained her apparently, not Dyna, because that was one of Eli’s favorite expressions. Tamsin had chosen a most admirable woman to look up to.
Then he found himself doing something he hadn’t expected. While she aimed the next arrow, Thane’s gaze dropped to her curvaceous bottom, noticing the sweet globes peeking out from beneath her tunic. Tamsin was a beautiful woman, but she’d been in such unusual conditions that he’d not taken notice of her luscious curves. He surely did now.
Garvie was a fool. Thane’s mind drifted to dangerous thoughts, but he decided to see where they took him. What if her husband didn’t exist? Would Thane be drawn by Tamsin? He’d vowed to stay away from women, to stay far away from the call of any siren, though he would be embarrassed to tell anyone the reason why.
He’d hated his mother with such a passion that he swore never to love a woman, never to marry, never to have children.
Other thoughts had convinced him it was the most practical approach to his life, because he couldn’t bear the other possibility happening.
He’d never implant a woman with his seed for the fear of finding her carrying his child. If he had to watch a woman raise his child the way he and his siblings were raised, he’d turn mad. To guarantee that this wouldn’t happen, on the rare occasion when he’d had the need for release, he had pulled out before releasing his seed. While it had enraged one lass to see his seed on her leg instead of where it belonged, he vowed not to change. And he’d never had relations with that girl again since her actions had proven she only had one intention—trapping him into marriage.
