“I would like your help and advice, for one. Your people have always paid,” Rory said.
“We’ve never moved them,” replied Finlay, with a pointed look at Kyla.
“There’s something else, though,” Rory said slowly. “Some of our crofters have been talking to your people, trying to encourage them to do the same as ours. They feel if they band together, they should have a greater chance of getting what they want from all of us.”
“What?” Finlay banged his fist on the table as he stood and leaned toward Rory. “Your lazy, backwards ways are now affecting us? For the love of all that is holy, Rory, keep your dirty workings to your own land.”
“Dirty? Who do you think you are, Finlay McDougall?” Rory was standing himself now, the two nose-to-nose as they leaned over the table toward one another.
“That’s enough!” Kyla said, standing, as Duncan did the same. He was about to speak, but she did first, wanting to prevent any further conflict.
“Rory, you and I will go tomorrow and speak to the MacTavish clan. And you will leave the McDougalls out of this. They can solve things on their side.”
“We,” Peggy said quietly.
“Pardon, Peg?
“We can solve things on our side, Kyla. You are a McDougall now, just as much as a MacTavish.”
Kyla’s cheeks burned as she looked around the table. Peggy was right. She was married now and she was an equal part of this clan. She still hadn’t quite become accustomed to the change.
“I would be happy to speak to the McDougalls as well.”
“There is no need to speak to them; the MacTavishes have done enough,” Finlay said gruffly.
Kyla said nothing, but took her chair once again, which led the others to follow suit, at the very least.
Her stomach rolled uncomfortably as they finished the meal in near silence.
* * *
Kyla rose early the next morning, riding out to meet Rory at their pre-arranged place just outside the MacTavish village.
She showed up right on time but not early, knowing Rory would be late, as he always was. An hour later, though, she was becoming impatient, and rode to Darfield to find him. She found the keep empty save for a couple of house servants and a groom. Rory, they told her, had apparently left this morning to Glasgow, while her father was out hunting.
“Damn it, Rory,” she muttered, turning her horse out of the courtyard. She should have known he wouldn’t follow through. She supposed she would have to go speak to the uprisers herself.
She found her father’s manager, Hamid, who gave her the names of the men who had been stirring up trouble and resisting payments. She wasn’t surprised to find Leith Stewart’s name on the top of the list. He had been a troublemaker since they were children.
“I’ll accompany you, Kyla,” Hamid offered, but she shook her head.
“From the looks of things, you’ve enough to do around here,” she said, looking at the pile of paper stretching high on the desk in front of him. “Where is my father?”
“He’s in Glasgow himself,” Hamid said, looking at her with some surprise. “You didn’t know?”
“I didn’t,” she said, shaking her head grimly. Apparently when she had wed, she had lost the privilege to be notified of her father and brother’s travel plans.
“All right,” he said, seemingly both relieved and hesitant in allowing her to go alone. “But if there is any sign of trouble, return immediately, will you?”
“Understood, Hamish,” she said, with a smile for the man who had looked after her as much as her father had for quite some time.
When she rode to the small village of the crofters’ homes, however, the men she was looking for were nowhere to be found.
“They’ve headed to your husband’s land, lass,” said one of the women. “They left not long ago. If you ride fast enough, which we know ye will, you should catch them.”
Kyla nodded her thanks. At this rate, Cadarn would be spent by the time they returned to Galbury.
Four MacTavish clansmen were approaching the first McDougall croft when she caught them. As she rode up, they were joined by a group of McDougall men—the same men, she realized with a sinking heart, that she had run into that day weeks ago.
“Leith Stewart!” she called, and the burly man, dressed in MacTavish clan colors, turned.
“Why, Kyla MacTavish, the princess herself,” he said in mock greeting as she rode up.
“Leith, I’m no princess. You’ve known me since I was a girl, and you call me that?”
“I know that yer greedy father and brother are demanding more than they have any right to deserve,” he said, puffing out his chest arrogantly. “It’s time we showed the landlords in these parts that they can’t push us around any longer. Now that you’ve gone and joined yourself up with the McDougalls, I figured we should do the same and join with the people. If none of us pay our rents, whatever would you do then?”
“Leith, I understand your thoughts,” she said diplomatically, swinging down off of Cadarn and holding the reins in her hand. “Perhaps you could work out an arrangement with my brother to lessen your rents to what you feel they are worth.”
“Have you seen my lands? They are worth nothing!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands out in front of him. “I canna grow a potato and there is nothing to speak of for my animals to eat. Where is that worthless brother of yours anyway? Sent his sister to speak for him?”
“Rory is otherwise occupied. Perhaps we can work something out. Why do we not return to your home together and we’ll sit down and sort it out. How is your Sarah, anyway?”
“Agreed. Take this back to your own lands,” the McDougall man who had insulted her on their previous encounter chimed in. “We don’t want Rory nor any other MacTavish around here. And you, lassie, dinna go puttin’ ideas into the mind of Finlay McDougall now, you hear me? We like things just the
