Page 36 of Wild Highland Rose
Torcall wanted an heir to Crannag Mhór, and he wanted Ewen to provide one. Which meant that Cameron had to sleepwith Marjory. But that was impossible considering the woman could barely keep a civil tongue in her head when talking to him, and if she couldn't stand the sight of him, she was hardly likely to allow a seduction.
"She doesn't like me." Cameron blinked his eyes slowly, trying to focus. His tongue seemed thicker than usual. Not to put too fine a point on it, but he would hazard to guess that whoever he'd been, he wasn't a drinker. He certainly didn't have the stamina of these guys. "Don't see how I can make love to her if she's not interested." He jerked his thumb toward the stairs, dismayed to see that there were still two sets.
"Since when has a bit o' spite stopped a Cameron?" Torcall asked. "Sometimes a mon has to take what he wants. Besides, all ye have to do is get the wench with child. Allen can handle the rest."
The two men exchanged glances.
"Handle what, exactly?" Cameron waited, trying to clear his mind. He sensed that this was something important.
Allen sneered. "Dinna fash yerself brother." He bent close to Cameron's ear, his breath making Cameron want to puke. "Yer part is simple, I reckon ye can do it in yer sleep."
Cameron tried to make sense of the conversation. "What do you mean? Do what in my sleep?" He closed his eyes, feeling the room start to spin. He opened them, forcing himself to focus on the nearest object, which happened to be Dougall's face.
"Plant yer seed. That's the important thing." Dougall's words had begun to slur, but Cameron couldn't figure out whether Dougall's mouth or his own ears were responsible.
The other men nodded in agreement.
"And I, fer one, am no' leaving until I'm sure ye've done just that." Torcall straddled a bench, apparently prepared to wait it out right on the spot.
Cameron sobered instantly, panic rising. Surely they weren't serious. "These things take time. You can't be away from Tyndrum that long." The minute the name of Torcall's home came out of his mouth he worried that he'd said it wrong, but the man didn't seem to notice, and Cameron sighed, relief flooding through him.
"Aye, 'tis the truth, Torcall. Ye canna leave the holding unattended fer too long. Yer enemies are sure to hear o' it and take advantage o' the situation," Dougall intoned seriously.
"I've an idea, Father." Drinking had only made Allen more odious. Cameron had the feeling he wasn't going to like what was coming next.
"All right, Allen, me boy, let's hear it." Torcall staggered over to his son and slapped him heartily on the back. A smaller man would have been sent sprawling.
Allen eyed Cameron, his expression veiled. "Well now, lads, I say we make sure that Ewen is doing his best to make sure there's truly a Cameron in the Macpherson's belly."
Dougall looked confused. "I dinna ken what yer saying."
"I'm saying we should watch."
"Watch what?" Dougall's brows drew together as he tried to follow the conversation.
Cameron felt a dawning of comprehension and the curl of revulsion in the pit of his stomach.
"I say," Allen paused to make sure his father was listening, "we go with Ewen and watch him take the slut upstairs."
"Aida?" Dougall drained his cup with a single swallow and reached for the pitcher to refill it.
Allen grabbed the earthenware jug, refilling his own cup. "Nay, man, I mean his Macpherson wife."
Cameron tried to think of something to halt the conversation, but his ale-numbed mind was too slow.
"Tis a grand idea." Torcall downed his ale, wiping his face with his sleeve. "'Twould be like old times."
Cameron had no idea what that meant and, frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Allen reached for his cup and filled it to the top. Cameron sipped from it absently, trying to find a way out of this new predicament. "You know Marjory isn't going to cooperate."
"Since when do you care if she cooperates? She'll do as she's told. If ye canna stomach the task, brother, I'll be glad to serve in yer place."
The thought made Cameron choke. No way would he let Allen touch Marjory again. "Thanks, Allen, but I believe I can handle my wife." He met Allen's lust-filled gaze. "And I don't need witnesses." Absolutely freaking right he didn't. There wasn't going to be a bedding.
"All right then no witnesses. But the least we can do is walk ye to the door." Torcall started for the stairs, swaying slightly.
"Now?" Cameron felt bile rising.
"Seems as good a time as any." Torcall squinted, studying him. "Dinna worry, lad, we'll no' get in yer way. We'll stay just outside the door. Ye'll never know we're there." He laughed loudly, ending with a belch. "After all, a man deserves a little privacy does he no'?" Torcall cuffed Cameron's cheek.
