A Fire Within (These Highland Hills, Book 3) by Kathleen Morgan Read Free Book Online Page B

at last to stammer out. "But that would make Caitlin-"
    "Niall's sister, of course." She quirked an auburn brow. "Didn't
ye know who she was?"
    "Nay." Dread rose like some turbid mist to curl around his
heart. "She introduced herself as Caitlin Campbell, of course,
but Janet and that lad Jamie were also Campbells. I thought they
were all members of yer clan, but likely servants. And then when
she said she was a healer ... well, that all but confirmed she was
a common lass of some sort."
    "I'm a healer as well, and have been long before I ever met
Niall Campbell or came to Kilchurn." She smiled. "Caitlin's my
apprentice."
    Dar felt his face go red with shame. "Truly, Lady, I didn't
know. It was foolish of me to presume aught, but I did. I beg
pardon-for my stupidity and for my audacity in kissing the
Campbell's sister."
    "No harm was done, I suppose. Still, I hope ye can understand
now why I feel it prudent that Caitlin and ye not be left alone
anymore." Anne paused to wet her lips. "I care for my sister-in-law
deeply. Even more importantly, her brother is verra protective of
her. Indeed, fiercely protective, to say the least."

     

4
    Dar laid awake deep into the night, awaiting the time when
Kilchurn's inhabitants would all be abed. In the meanwhile, his
mind was amply supplied with chaotic thoughts to keep him wide
awake, if ever he had feared dozing off. To his chagrin, however,
they all involved a certain bonny if exceedingly exasperating
young woman.
    Caitlin was Niall Campbell's sister. Of all the sorry, misplaced
fortune to pursue the sister of the man Clan MacNaghten considered one of their worst enemies. Even if Niall Campbell-save
for Athe's capture and imprisonment-hadn't played an active
role in the persecution of Dar's clan, he was still a Campbell and
part and parcel of those who had led the successful push to have
Clan MacNaghten proscribed.
    Caitlin had also admitted to a low opinion of the MacNaghtens. In the doing, she was as much a participant in this despicable
travesty as the rest of her kin.
    He knew it was daft to feel a sense of betrayal, even pain, at that
admission. By mountain and sea, he had kissed the lass but once!
And it had meant nothing-neither to him or her. Yet, despite
repeated attempts to put Caitlin out of his mind, especially the
surprising intensity of their kiss and the unnerving shock the kiss
had stirred of something akin to recognition, of some uncanny connection even, Dar's thoughts kept returning to her over and
over and over again.

    Had she bewitched him then? It didn't seem possible. She
had given him no potion to drink. He hadn't seen her make
any strange signs or mutter any unintelligible words that might
hint at spell casting. But healers were known-leastwise some
of them-to dabble in the black arts.
    Indeed, hadn't Anne Campbell, born a MacGregor, once been
called the "Witch of Glenstrae"? And she had admitted to being
a healer well before she ever wed Niall Campbell. Were both
women, then, but a witch and her apprentice?
    With a disgusted grunt, Dar rolled over, pulled the blankets
back up to snug high against his shoulders, and clenched shut
his eyes. Had it come to this now? That he was so overcome by
the strain of the past two and a half years of living like some
wild, hunted animal, he now imagined his enemies were worse
than cruel and heartless? That they were actually satanic beings?
Without mercy and forgiveness in the world, there certainly
was no God. But did such an absence still permit the presence
of Satan?
    Somehow, Dar doubted that. Nevertheless, witchcraft seemed
the only plausible explanation for how swiftly Caitlin Campbell
had gotten under his skin. She was but a wee wisp of a lass,
beautiful, it was true, but there were many beautiful women in
the world.
    Yet, somehow, she was different. Within that small frame
burned a fiery, indomitable spirit, a courage equal to that of any
man. There was a passion