With the Clearances wreaking havoc on the Highlands, many clans had not survived. Clansmen were leaving Scotland and relocating to Canada, the United States, and Australia. After the devastating defeat at Culloden, a couple of generations had struggled, but the MacNeil clan had survived.
Evan’s father and grandfather had managed to keep his clan together. Some of the land was now used for sheep farming, but there were still plenty of crofters and farmers who tended to the land and worked their craft.
With winter arriving in several weeks, it had been his intention to get the matter settled at MacDuff castle and be home to Argyll before it was too late to travel the roads. He had no intention of spending the winter in Fife. His clan needed him at home.
Evan thanked the stable master and turned his horse over to the man. He strode to the front of the castle with the annoying lass nipping at his heels like a puppy. “’Tis verra large, is it not?”
“Aye. Verra large.” He had to dodge her footsteps.
“My people will be happy here.” The lass was having a hard time catching her breath, trying to keep up with him.
He came to an abrupt stop. “Yer people?”
“Yes. My clan.”
He snorted and continued on. “Ye call the five of ye yer clan?”
“No. The five of us came first to ready the place. I had a report from the men I sent here last month, but I wanted time to prepare. I told the rest of them to leave about a sennight after we did.”
He came to another abrupt stop, and she slammed into his back. “The rest of them?”
“Aye. My wee brother Gavin’s nanny, my household servants, and whichever tenants wanted to join us. With that many traveling, they should arrive in about a fortnight.”
Chapter Three
Laird Evan MacNeil’s expression was more surprise than anger, for which Katie was grateful. Perhaps if he could remain calm, she could explain her situation to him and convince him that MacDuff castle belonged to her through her mum’s family, and MacNeil and his brother would return to their home in Argyll and leave them in peace.
And perhaps pigs might fly.
She sighed at the problem Evan presented, considering ’twas something for which she had not been prepared. The most important reason she’d made this move would remain her secret. There was no cause to involve this stranger in her troubles. She’d done what she needed to do and was bringing everyone here. And here is where they would all stay.
They strode up to the house, Katie having a devil of a time keeping up with his pace. The man’s legs were so long, it was hard to breathe and walk at the same time. She studied him as much as she could, his wild curly hair blowing in the breeze. His determined step was matched by the look on his face. She was certain he was not used to being thwarted.
The ground was rocky, and a few times she stumbled, but being a gentleman, apparently, he grabbed her arm and kept her from falling to the ground. Of course, had he been a real gentleman, he would not be forcing her to race him to the front door.
“Lass, you cannot just up and leave yer ancestral home and march across the Lowlands and take up another home. ’Tis not the way it is done.” He glanced at her sideways as he continued his march.
“Nay. Not now, mayhaps.” Pant, pant. “But ’twasn’t too many years ago that keeps were often attacked and taken over.” Pant, pant. “Consider this a peaceful siege—a surrender. On yer part, that is.” Her words barely made it out of her mouth, so out of breath she was.
Thank goodness he came to a stop right after they passed through the dilapidated iron gates surrounding the castle.
“Aye. A peaceful surrender for you.” He placed his hands on his hips.
“Nay, for you.” She mimicked his stance, although compared to his size, ’twas almost comical. In fact, so comical that he threw his head back and roared with laughter.
Then he grew serious and placed his large hands on her shoulders. The warmth from his hands and the closeness of him, with the woodsy scent of leather and man, drifted between them and teased her nose. Her heart once again sped up. She did not wish to be attracted to this man. He was her adversary, and she would fight him for this land as much as their ancestors had fought for their lands. Maybe not with crossbows and boiling oil over the ramparts, but nevertheless, this was war.
“Lass, the place does not belong to ye. ’Twas a possession of Laird Brendan MacDuff, who stated in his will that the property goes to the next male in line, which is Laird Evan MacNeil.” He poked his chest with his thumb. “Me.”
“But ye are not a MacDuff.” She hoped her voice did not sound pathetic. She must show strength and determination so this man did not run all over her. She could not return to her home.
’Twas impossible.
“Neither are ye a MacDuff.” His smirk annoyed her more than his rough words thus far. He was treating her like a bairn who had lost her way and needed his help to find her house.
“My mum was Aileen MacDuff Stirling.” She fumbled in her pocket and withdrew the paper once again. “And I have proof that the land was stolen from my family many years ago.”
Evan ran his fingers through his hair. “If that is the case, then you should have appealed to the courts, or the magistrate, or whoever deals with such a thing.” He waved his hand around.
“Who would that be?”
“I dinnae ken who deals with land squabbles.” He pointed his finger
