They settled at the table, the tension weighing on Owen’s shoulders. Even knowing he needed to explain himself and try to convince his family what he’d said about de Bourgh was true, he didn’t let Amber from his side for a moment.
He felt protective of her. Not that anyone would harm her here. Still. She was part of him. She made him feel better about himself. She’d defended him back in the courtyard like an angry mother lynx. No one had ever defended him like that.
Not that he needed someone to defend him.
Still. Knowing that a woman had his back was new and fresh.
And he loved it. Too much.
He studied Amber’s golden-brown profile for a moment as she chewed a piece of bread, her full lips moving seductively. They had tasted so sweet. So sweet he never wanted to stop kissing her.
People noticed and stared at her, he saw that. The color of her skin was unusual, but they also stared at her beauty. How could they not? How could anyone not be mesmerized by those eyes, and lips, the kind of femininity wrapped in strength and power. She possessed the grace and confidence of a predator, and yet she could be as sweet as a domestic cat.
“Owen.” His father interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to face him. “Drooling over another female, I see.”
Heat rushed to Owen’s face. He supposed he deserved that, but he wished his father would see the warrior in him for once, and not a jester.
Father cocked his brow and poured uisge into their cups. “I dinna blame ye, though, son. She is a bonnie lass. Never seen anyone quite like her. A dark beauty, eh?”
Owen glanced at Amber to make sure she couldn’t hear this conversation.
“She’s much more than that,” Owen said, feeling protectiveness rising in him. “She’s a good warrior with skills that ye havna dreamed of. And she’s brave and strong.” His fist clenched around the cup with uisge. “De Bourgh tortured her—a dozen lashes—and she didna say anything.”
Dougal cocked one eyebrow. “Havna heard ye talk about anyone like ye talk about her. This one got right in ye heart.”
Did he hear sympathy in his father’s voice?
“Nae.” The lie scraped Owen’s throat as he said it. She was not only in his heart, but she was also in his blood. “’Tis only I admire bravery and strength—especially in a woman. Dinna see that often.”
“Hmm.” Dougal looked deeply into his cup of uisge and then threw back the liquid. “So tell me about John MacDougall. How exactly did he tell ye about their plan to ambush the Bruce?”
Owen’s pulse galloped. This was his chance to convince his father he wasn’t wrong. That he wasn’t trying to impress Amber and really had information that could lead to a victory over the MacDougalls and the English.
“They thought I was unconscious,” Owen said. “MacDougall discussed their plans with de Bourgh and didna ken I was listening.”
“And how exactly do ye ken he wasna tricking ye? He’s sly enough to set that up.”
Owen’s gut tightened till it hurt. “I just ken, Da. He had knocked me out. I lay there senseless—”
Dougal shook his head. “Son, I ken ye’re nae lying, but it doesna mean he didna see ye were awake.”
Acid rose in Owen’s stomach. He remembered the terrible night he’d stood before his da, Craig, Domhnall, Uncle Neil, and his cousins, ashamed and helpless, repeating that he was innocent, that it was all MacDougall’s ploy, that the gold had been stolen by a woman and someone had planted it in his room. Nothing had helped.
“He tricked me with the gold,” Owen said. “But nae this time. They ken the Bruce is coming for them, and they’ll set up an ambush at the Pass of Brander. They want to repeat the Battle of Dalrigh.”
“The gold—”
“Right,” Owen spat. The taste of the word bitter on his tongue. “Yer son stole the king’s gold. ’Tis what ye think, aye?”
“The old king thought that, aye,” Dougal said through gritted teeth. “And it doesna matter what I think. It matters that we dinna let this king down. Because the freedom of our country lies with the Bruce. Everything we’ve been fighting for since William Wallace. We’ve never been so close. If the MacDougall let ye hear this information to set a trap, and the king walks right into it, he’s finished. We’re all finished. I canna take that risk, Owen. I just canna.”
Owen shook his head, bitterness spreading painfully through his chest. All these years of trying to prove his worth to his clan, and he finally had information in his hands that could help, that could finally bring an end to the war.
“And what if I’m right?” Owen said. “And what if the Bruce walks right into a trap and they kill him?”
“Nae, I dinna believe that will happen.”
“Ye dinna believe that because I brought ye this information. If Craig had said the same, ye would be on yer way to the Bruce right now.”
Dougal paled. “I ken what ye’re thinking. Dinna dare go to the king with this. Promise me.”
“Father—”
“Do ye ken what happens once the Bruce wins?”
“Peace.”
“Aye. Peace. And we finally get our vengeance for everything they did to us. To Marjorie. Ian. Yer grandfather. We get our proper clan seat in Innis Chonnel back. Neil said the Bruce has promised him all of MacDougall lands. He’s considering marrying his sister Mary to Neil. We’d be related to the king himself. It means we’ll be rewarded with wealth and power. Something we should’ve had long ago, but the MacDougalls took it from us.”
“Father, I want all that for our clan, too, and ’tis why the king should be warned—”
“Nae, if ye tell him yer story, and ye’re wrong, we’ll lose everything. He’ll never trust us again.”
Owen’s throat vibrated with a silent growl. How could his father be so stubborn? Despite all Owen’s mistakes, his father should have faith in his son.
But he didn’t. Trying to convince Dougal Cambel of anything after he’d made up his mind was useless.
Owen didn’t know what to do now. Should he do as his da wanted and keep the information to himself? Or should he send a messenger to the Bruce and risk the king’s favor again?
If he chose the latter, there could be no distractions.
There could be no Amber in his life. No matter how hard it would be, he’d need to distance himself from her. His family would not take him seriously if they thought she was distracting him. He couldn’t afford his judgment being clouded. If he let a woman distract him again, he could lose everything. Worse. His clan could.
Scotland could.
He sipped his uisge and considered his options. He knew as surely as the sun would rise tomorrow that he wanted responsibility. He wanted to be a leader like his brothers and his father.
He wanted to see the respect and the admiration in his da’s hard malachite eyes. Even if the price for that was letting Amber go, stepping back and being as far away from her as possible.
“Aye, Father.” Owen raised his cup of uisge. “Ye’re right. Let’s drink to that.”
Chapter 19
Owen hadn’t let Amber far from his side since they’d entered Glenkeld Castle. After embracing his father, he’d turned to her and held her hand. The touch had sent a lightning bolt right into her core and set her blood ablaze. It was as though their connected hands sent sunshine through her.