“You’ll be fine. Besides, you’ll have me to show you what to do.” Fiona tugged Divana’s tresses around to the back and set to braiding. “Now tell me, how long were you marooned with Sir Kennan?”

Divana didn’t miss the mischief in Fiona’s eyes. Though she craved friendship, it was best to keep her feelings under wraps. “I suppose it caused quite a stir when we rode through the gates together looking like a pair of ragamuffins, did it not?”

“Aye, the entire castle is buzzing with gossip.”

“I do not think ’tis nice to gossip.”

“Are you jesting?” Fiona’s comb paused while she laughed aloud. “At Achnacarry life would be ever so dull without it. They’re saying you suffered a dread illness.”

“I did, but I’m well now.”

“So, what happened between you and the Cameron heir?”

“I suppose Ken—er—Sir Kennan is sharing the story with his da as we speak.” Divana took in a deep breath, trying to stretch her annoying stays. “All I ken is he washed ashore after the Highland Reel was lost. Have you not heard the tale from Lachie Mor?”

Chapter Ten

Shaven and dressed in a decent suit of clothes, yet exhausted clear to his bones, Kennan cast a forlorn glance to his four-poster bed before he left his chamber and headed for the library. He’d rehearsed the explanation of the battle in his head a hundred times, but nonetheless, facing his father wouldn’t be easy. What son who’d lost his ship, half his crew, and a fortune could stand in front of the Great Lochiel and hold his head high?

I cannot.

But Kennan must own up to and look his demons in the eye. Only then would he be free to seek the reckoning he craved clear to his very bones. Arriving at the library far faster than he’d intended, he stood for a moment and rubbed his weary eyes.

May as well have it done with.

He opened the door and popped his head inside. “Are you ready to receive me, sir?”

Lochiel put down his correspondence and motioned for Kennan to take a seat across the table. “For a moment I thought you might have fallen victim to your pillow.”

“Nay, though I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it beckoned.” Kennan sat on the edge of the chair, his back erect. “I suppose ’tis best to start at the beginning—confess my sins, so to speak.”

“We’re all sinners, lad.” Da slowly turned the globe and tapped a spot that Kennan was unable to see. “Lachie Mor filled me in on most of it. Vane attacked with three schooners. No captain in all of Christendom would have been able to fend off an attack of that magnitude with one wee ship. You fought until the end—five at once, I’m told.”

Kennan nodded while his father took a breath.

“Vane made you watch your men walk the plank. Runner managed to save many. But they lost you. Afore you met your supposed demise, a mighty gale blew through the channel, the Reel sailed off too fast for the lads to keep her in their sights. Nary a man thought my son had met his end, but they all vowed you were lost at sea.” Da reached for a flagon of whisky and two goblets. “Does that about sum it up?”