Da reached for a slip of parchment. “I’ll write him straightaway.”

Before his father picked up his quill, Kennan placed his hand atop the parchment. “I’m a grown man. The letter ought to come from me.”

Da frowned, but then slid the paper across the table. “Very well. Then I’ll contact your uncle in Glasgow. If Sleat doesn’t bite, Sir Broden may have some ideas as well. After all, ’tis your gold we’ll be spending.”

It was. Prince James had generously paid Kennan for his efforts in taking back a fortune in gold from Claude Dubois at Versailles with the help of the Earl and Countess of Mar. Some of his share he’d spent to purchase the cargo he’d lost on the Highland Reel. The remainder was in a strongbox hidden behind a false wall in his chamber—possibly enough to purchase an old ship from an ally.

“Good thinking.”

“I’m certain it comes as no shock when I say this state of affairs makes me ill.” Da poured himself another dram. “I’ll tell ye true, son, if it didn’t take two years to commission a ship, I’d order one built this very day. No man attacks my kin without paying in blood.”

* * *

Kennan had planned to find Divana after his meeting with his father, but it wasn’t to be. He’d also wanted to meet with Lachie Mor and Mr. MacNeil, but Da had detained him, talking more about Vane and matters at home. Over the course of several hours, they’d managed to consume the entire flagon of whisky, after which Kennan had barely made it back to his bed before the exhaustion of riding all night overcame him.

But first thing the next morn, he woke early and, after visiting the kitchens, found the lass working in the dining hall with Fiona. And it didn’t surprise him to see Divana on her knees shoveling ash from the hearth while Fiona flitted about with a duster.

“There you are,” Kennan said, walking straight toward the Campbell lass.

Fiona gasped, dipping into a ridiculously low curtsy. “Sir! My, you’re up early.”

Looking back at the maid, Divana cringed while she pushed to her feet and attempted a curtsy while brushing the ash from her apron. “Good morn, sir.”

“Ah…” Scratching his freshly shaven chin, Kennan looked between the two. Suddenly everything had changed. He was the master and Divana the servant. Somehow he hadn’t anticipated an instant change in their friendship. But then, why wouldn’t there be? ’Twas the way of things…and he cared for it not one bit.

As she straightened, he leaned in and looked her over from head to toe. Though dressed simply, she looked as radiant as a queen. He’d never seen her hair brushed and flowing about her shoulders like copper silk. Was it the ray of light shining in from the window that made her eyes sparkle, her face glow, her unsure smile absolutely captivating?

“Is something amiss, sir?” asked Fiona.

“N-no.” Still staring at Divana, he wiped a hand across his mouth. “I…ah…wanted to ensure Divana was…uh. Are you well, lass?”