The Lion (Clan Ross of the Hebrides Book 1) by Hildie McQueen (ereader for android .TXT) 📕

Any kind of attachment, however, could impede his plans. “Aye, leave it. I will eat in a moment. Go on home, Ida.”

It seemed for an instant as if she was to say something, but instead, she just nodded and left.

Waiting for her to leave, he returned to pacing. If just one man was caught and revealed it was him who headed the insurgence, he would be hung.

Perhaps, he could seek refuge with Laird Uisdein, the man hated Darach Ross. Upon the late laird’s death, the Uisdein had broken the betrothal between his daughter and Stuart Ross.

If he were to go there, it would have to be soon and ensure to have a story planned before any rumors travel. No matter what the circumstance, a traitor was never looked upon with favor, even to a common enemy.

Cairn walked out to his stables and found a young lad that looked after his horses. “I will be riding out. There is food on the table. Eat and wait for me to return. Ye can sleep in the kitchen.”

It was but a short while later that he rode from his home toward the keep. His heart sank upon seeing Stuart and several guardsmen riding in the same direction. For a moment, he considered turning around. When he caught up with them, none seemed to find it strange. He pulled his horse alongside Stuart’s.

“I go to speak to the laird,” Cairn said. “I was not informed of a possible insurrection. I had to find out from a guard.”

The laird’s brother gave him a bland look. “I do not think my brother has to keep ye informed of his every movement.”

“As the senior council member, it would be helpful when people come and ask me questions. It does not give them assurance when I am as uninformed as they are.”

Stuart didn’t reply, instead looked over his shoulder to the guards that followed. “Make sure ye all eat before retiring. There is no need for any late sword practice.”

The men murmured their agreement.

“Where do ye come from?” Cairn asked.

“I visited the farmer who was injured and left for dead. He remains unconscious. I doubt he will live,” Stuart said. “We spent the day helping with the livestock and out in the field. Brought food and such for the family.”

Cairn shook his head. “A very sad situation indeed. I hope the culprit is found out.”

“Doubtful,” Stuart replied.

By the time they arrived at the keep, Cairn felt hopeful. They’d not run into any guards being sent to his home, and from what he gathered from Stuart, the farmer would die, and his secret would remain safe.

From that day forward, he’d have to be more careful. The entire reason for his plotting had to be clearer.

He wanted power again. The only way to regain the power he held over the late laird was not through violence, but with intelligence and cunning. Darach Ross, like any other man, had a weakness. All Cairn had to do was find it and exploit it. His first idea of involving others in overthrowing the Ross men was much too ambitious. People were ignorant and too stupid to control properly.

Last meal was being served when he walked into the great hall. Laird Ross split his time between eating with people who remained for the meal and eating with his family in the dining room.

It usually depended on who was there. Since there were visitors for the season, Darach ate in the dining room most days as of late.

Tonight, Cairn was in luck. Not only did the laird eat in the great hall, but he was seated at a table with a well-established local family.

Cairn neared. “May I join ye?”

If the laird was surprised at his late appearance, it was not obvious. He motioned to a chair. “Of course.”

Once he greeted the family, he waited to be served while interjecting into the conversation. It was a boring uninteresting dribble about the changes in local customs. Before long, Cairn wished he’d remained at home. There was little he could learn about what happened.

And yet, he had to withstand much to regain what he once had. What he deserved after so many years of loyalty.

The rest of the Ross family emerged from the direction of the dining room and Cairn took notice of the women. One, in particular, the younger of the sisters stood out. She was a beauty that drew everyone’s attention.

The laird did not seem immune as he tracked their progress as they went with his mother to stand by the hearth.

“If ye will excuse me,” Darach stood and went to the group.

Cairn pretended to listen to the droning of the old man, who continued to spew nonsense about the change in customs, while keeping an eye on the group.

Speaking to the group, probably wishing them a good night’s rest, Darach stood next to the younger sister. The conversation continued, the women seeming to ask the laird several questions.

Despite the nearness of the lass, the laird did not touch her, nor did he seem to pay her extra attention.

Cairn blew out a breath. So, the chit would not be a weakness he could explore. Then again, male pride was something that could definitely be used against a man such as Darach Ross, who prided himself for his masculinity.

The question was how.

As the women walked off, Cairn looked back to his tablemates for a moment. When he looked back to the laird, his lips curved.

The laird leaned forward and whispered something into the older sister’s ear. The woman, who upon closer inspection, was indeed striking, shook her head. When she turned and looked to the laird, her cheeks had turned bright pink.

It could be that despite marrying the younger sister, Darach Ross was already grooming the older one to be his lover.

Interesting.

“Excuse me, please,” Cairn said, interrupting the man’s boring dribble. “I am late to meet someone.”

“Laird,” he said, nearing Darach. “Would ye mind if I sleep here tonight? It is getting quite late.”

After the