Page 10 of My Highland Love

“Justice isn't always what it should be,” she murmured.

Winnie snorted. “It is the law of the land—every land—and the Campbells know it. They're a bloodthirsty lot.” Her countenance softened and she nodded toward her teacup. “Fill my cup.”

The normalcy of the request loosened the tightening in Elise's stomach. She retrieved the kettle from the fire and poured hot water into Winnie's cup, then dropped in a tea ball.

“You canna' know,” Winnie began, still working her stitching, “what it is to have everyone against ye, even your own king.”

Elise returned the kettle to its place and seated herself at the table. Her soul grew heavy at hearing how more than two hundred years ago the government gave the Campbells all MacGregor land, heedless of the fact the property was occupied.

“Even the MacGregor name was outlawed,” Winnie said. “Our line would have died if not for Ryan MacGregor.”

Winnie went on to tell how the foresight of a single man saved an entire people. Ryan MacGregor, traitor to the Scottish crown, married a woman wealthy enough to shun the insidious alliance of the merchants and government, then bought land and furnished his people with weapons to keep it.

“How he angered the Campbells,” she said with satisfaction. “We still lived and died by the sword, mind you, for a Campbell cannot bear to see a MacGregor at peace. But we had a sword to fight with.”

But the horror had only begun, Elise realized as Winnie went on. The political tide then turned against all Highlanders.

“Clearances, they call it. Evictions.” Winnie jabbed her needle into the cloth. “Murder. Our chiefs evicted us. Their own kin. All in the name of progress. But the Duchess of Sutherland, she is the devil incarnate. Ninety families, she started with, but the numbers got as high as two thousand families in a single day.”

Elise gasped. “Dear God, how is that possible?”

“It happened.”

“Who is this duchess?”

“The most powerful woman in all Scotland—mayhap, the world. She owns tens of thousands of acres of land. When she realized ranching held better profit than farming, she began evictions. Thousands thrown out of their homes no matter their age or infirmity. Many were left by the wayside to die like animals. Not a family lives who hasn't been touched by the clearances. My great uncle Duncan McKay,” Winnie's voice grew shaky, “he and his family, caught in the dead of night. Four bairns burned in their beds.”

Elise's throat constricted at the picture of burning beds and children screaming for their parents.

Soundless tears rolled down Winnie's cheeks. “Duncan lived, poor devil, despite being nearly burned to death. They brought him here.”

“Here?” Elise asked in a choked voice.

“Aye. My mother was Cameron's father's healer, then his for many years. But she couldna' do a thing for Duncan. He could have lived, or so she said, but the spirit died with his wife and children. There are others, but Duncan I remember best.” She looked up “Have you ever seen a man burned?”

Unreasonable panic rose with the memory of the fire that had so quickly spread across the Amelia's cabin floor. Elise shook her head.

“Pray you never do.” Winnie returned to her embroidering. “The Campbells stood alongside the duchess. They had government and church sanction. We were to be broken, you see. It did not matter that our men fought for the crown while their families died at home. We never bowed to their authority and that pricked them.”

“And the Campbells,” Elise said, “they took part in the… the…”

“Aye.” Winnie nodded. “They made it their business to see to the MacGregors.”

Elise's heart swelled when she learned of those few leaders who stood by their own. Of how the MacLeod chiefs improved the lives of their clansmen by ensuring their monies were shared amongst the people. The MacDonalds, too, had not partaken in the atrocities.

“Then,” Winnie said, her voice softening, “we have the MacGregor.”

Warmth emanated from her as she related how Cameron MacGregor, along with his young son, Marcus, defended their people. Only a few scant years ago Marcus picked up the gauntlet passed from father to son and returned to Brahan Seer with over a hundred ragged and defeated Highlanders. They were all he could save from the Sutherlund riots at Gruids.

“The Campbells were there,” Winnie went on. “They gained noble rank—at the expense of the MacGregors. It's our wealth they stole. But we didn't lay down for it—and how they hate us for it.” Her fingers convulsed on the embroidery needle. “They hate Cameron even more because he offered asylum to any Highlander. Two years ago, Marcus met them with a fist of iron when he attacked the Bannatyne Campbells.”

“Dear God, why?”

“Katie MacGregor. If you had seen what they did to the lass—” Winnie forced the needle through the soft linen as if it was leather and gave a sudden cry.

A small pearl of blood splotched the beige cloth from beneath.

“Winnie!” Elise jumped to her feet.