"Och, my wee bairn!" Morna screamed, scooping Jamie up in her arms and holding him tight to her ample bosom. He kicked his legs in protest as she squeezed and kissed his face over and over again.
Sin watched the woman, who probably wasn't any more than a year or two older than him, greet her son. There had been a time once, long ago when he'd dreamed of coming home to such a welcome. But when the other boys who had been taken from Scotland had been sent home by Henry, all that had greeted him had been a curt, cold note sent by his father:
I have no use for a Sassenach in my home. Do with him as you please. He is not now, nor will he ever be, welcomed here.
The old wounds inside tore open, spilling aching pain throughout his entire body. "My lord?"
He turned away from Callie and removed his gauntlets from his hands.
Callie frowned at Sin's back. The raw anguish in his eyes haunted her. When she stepped around him, she saw his face held its usual stoic expression.
Morna took Jamie upstairs, while Aster led her, Sin, Simon and Dermot into his counsel room.
"I dinna want him here," Dermot said in Gaelic.
Callie saw red. " 'Tis not your decision."
"The hell it's not. He's English."
"Dermot, Callie, settle down," Aster snapped. "This won't get any of us anywhere. Now then, tell me, Callie, what do you intend for us to do with him?"
"I intend for you to make him welcome."
Aster ran his hand through his graying hair. "Now, that's asking a wee much, don't you think, lass? I spent the best part of me youth fighting his kind. As did your dearly departed da. I want peace with them as much as you do, but not at this cost."
She glanced to her husband, who exchanged a peeved glare with Simon. "We are being rude by discussing this in front of him when he knows nothing of our language."
"He's a whoreson and if he can't understand us, then you'd best be sending him home."
"You're right about one thing." They all froze as Sin's flawless Gaelic rolled like thunder through the room. "I am a whoreson, but I have no intention of going home until there are no more raids against Englishmen." He stalked toward Dermot until they were toe to toe. "So if you want me to leave, then all you have to do is make peace."
"Wherever did you learn to speak our language, lad?" Aster asked. "I've never known a Sas… Englishman to speak it so well."
Sin cast a glance over his shoulder. "I'm just full of surprises."
Callie held her breath as the two men sized each other up. Like Sin, her uncle wasn't used to anyone questioning his supreme authority. He ruled their land with the power of a king, and all the clan owed their blood loyalty to him.
She cast a pleading look to Simon, hoping that if a battle ensued, he would help her break them apart.
Aster narrowed his gaze. "If you think for even one instant that I will let you capture any of my people and hand them over to your king, you are sadly mistaken."
Sin turned to face him. "Then I would caution you to make sure the rebels raid no more."
"How can I do that when I have no idea who they are?"
"You are laird of this clan. Don't tell me you don't know every man, woman and child who inhabits it. If you don't know the rebels by name, you most certainly know them by reputation and you know which of the men are most likely guilty."
Dermot raked a sneer over Sin and Simon. "There are only the two of them here, Uncle. I say we cut their throats and bury them."
Sin actually smiled at Dermot's threat as Simon cocked an amused brow.
When Sin spoke, his tone was low and lethal. "Better men than you, whelp, have tried, and they are all lying in their graves for it."
Dermot stiffened to his full youthful height, which was still a full head shorter than Sin. "You don't scare me."
"Then you are too foolish to live." Sin pulled a dagger from his boot. "Come here, boy, and I'll cut your throat and gladly put you out of both our miseries."
For the first time in her life, Callie saw her brother pale. "Sin," she said, in a teasing tone she hoped would lighten their moods and stave off their fighting. "Put that away before he thinks you mean it."
"I do mean it."
She rolled her eyes as her own temper ignited. "Och now, you men. Always bragging and bullying." She took the dagger from his hand and sheathed it back in his boot. "Next time, I'll confiscate it from you."
The incredulous look on Sin's face was laughable. In fact, Simon did laugh.
She turned on Dermot. "And you… you ought to be ashamed. Now go upstairs and say hello to your brother and let me speak with Aster without your hotheadedness interfering."
That only made Dermot madder. "I've as much right—"
"Dermot, obey!" she commanded.
Grumbling, he stalked from the room. "I'm not a child!" he snapped before slamming the door shut behind him.
Callie took a deep breath. Finally, a moment of peace to try and negotiate a miracle.
She turned back to the men. "All right, now, where were we?"
"Your uncle was telling you why he and the rest of your clan can't welcome me into their midst."
"It's nothing against you personally," Aster said. "I have finally succeeded in quieting down the rebels. Your presence here will no doubt set them off again."
Sin crossed his arms over his chest. "Was it your leadership that quelled them or the fact that Henry held Callie?"
Aster turned a peculiar shade of red. "Now, see here, I dinna have time for this. I have an envoy of allies coming in from a northern clan. The last thing—"
Sin stiffened. "To what purpose do they come?"
Aster blustered even more that Sin would dare question him about clan concerns. "It's none of your bloody damned English business."
Sin took a step forward, his face dark with warning. "As an advisor to Henry—"
"Great Peter's knucklebone, Callie!" Aster cried, turning on her with a fierce glower. "It's not bad enough you bring back an Englishman? Did you have to find one who is an advisor to the king?"
She disregarded his question. Much like Sin, she wanted to know who was coming and why. "Who is coming, Aster? I don't see the harm in his knowing."
A tic formed at Aster's jaw. For several minutes, he said nothing at all as he looked back and forth between them.
Finally he spoke. "The MacAllisters are coming."
Sin frowned. "Lochlan MacAllister?"
"You know of him?" Aster asked.
Callie arched a brow in surprise. The MacAllisters were a strong clan who wielded a tremendous amount of power over their fellow Highlanders. Their leader, Lochlan, was said to be wiser than King Solomon and the most skilled fighter in all of Scotland.
Ewan MacAllister was more myth than real. Legend said he'd taken to the hills, where he practiced ancient and black arts that called forth the souls of dead warriors to inhabit his body. A giant among men, Ewan had never been defeated in battle.
And Braden MacAllister… there wasn't a lass in all of Scotland who didn't know of him. More handsome than sin itself, he was said to be able to seduce any woman he met. When it came to fighting, everyone agreed the only person to match his skill was one of his brothers.
No one ever wanted to cross a MacAllister.
Sin snorted. "Aye, you could say that."
"Why are they coming?" Callie asked.
Aster took a seat at his desk and shuffled through papers. "Since they are on friendly terms with King Henry, I sent for them hoping to work a peace that would bring you home. Now I fear they will have wasted their journey. But no matter, I shall make them welcome and then send them back."
It made sense to her and she was relieved Aster had sought a peaceful way to get her back as opposed to marching himself down to London and getting killed. "When will they arrive?"
"Tomorrow or the next day."
Callie gathered Simon and Sin to her. "Come, gentlemen, let me show you both where you may wash and rest. Aster, would you please have
food sent to my room and to the one across the hall from it?"
Rage suffused his face at her words. Aster growled low in his throat. Then he fairly shouted, "You canna be putting one of them in your room, lass! 'Tis indecent!"
She gaped at him. "My husband?"
Aster's face turned another shade of red. He blustered. "Aye, I forgot that. All right, then, I shall send Aggie up with food for all of you."
"Thank you."
Sin didn't speak as she led him across the hall and to a set of stairs. He saw the hate-filled stares they collected as they moved through the castle.
"You know," Simon said from behind him, "I haven't felt this much animosity since the last time I went to Paris."
"I told you to stay home."
"No doubt I shall wish I had listened." Simon cleared his throat. When he spoke next, it was in a deep, mocking tone. "Oh, but Simon, I am so glad you came along. Imagine, here I would be with only Callie and Jamie to befriend me." He changed his voice back to its normal tone. "Think nothing of it, Sin. My pleasure, really. 'Tis what friends are for."
Sin paused on the stairs and turned to face him with a droll stare. "Are you quite through?"
"Not really, why?"
Sin shook his head and laughed. "You're right, Simon. Thank you for coming."
Simon threw himself against the stone wall, his face a mask of shock and dismay. "Callie, quick, take cover, love. The castle is doomed. Sin said thank you to me. The end of the earth is upon us." He crossed himself. "Hail Mary full of grace."
Callie laughed while Sin glared.
"You are such a buffoon," he said. "You should have been a jester instead of a knight."
"True, but jesters don't get to carry a sword. Personally, I like my sword. You know, the whole knight image really makes the ladies lust for me. Not that any have lusted for me recently, since I have only been in the company of married women, but one is ever hopeful."
Simon paused, then drew his brows together sternly. "Oh, wait, I'm in Scotland, where they hate us English. Damn, my chances with the women have just fallen to nil." He sighed dramatically. "Wasn't there a monastery a few leagues back? Mayhap I should go take my vows and just save myself the embarrassment of being sneered at."
Callie laughed even harder. "Oh, Simon. I, for one, am very happy that you came along. We shall just have to teach you to wear a plaid and speak a little Gaelic."
Simon cleared his throat and whispered to Sin loud enough so that Callie could hear him. "Is it true the men wear nothing beneath their plaids?"
"Aye."
He shuddered and met her gaze. "I'll be keeping my breeches on, if it's all the same to you."
"Your choice," she said, opening the door to Simon's room.
Simon entered and closed the door, while Sin followed her across the hall to her chambers.
Sin paused in the doorway as he looked around the cheery room. The large bed was draped with burgundy serge, and warm blankets and pelts covered the mattress. There was an elegant carved trunk beneath the window of rose-tinted glass and on top was an assortment of dolls. The walls around them had been painted in light blues and white in soothing geometrical patterns.
He felt strange entering here. As if he were intruding into something very private.
"Will you not come in?" she asked.
Sin forced himself over the threshold, yet he couldn't stop the feeling that he had no business here. With her.
He dropped his saddlebags by the trunk and unbelted his sword.
Callie watched the stiff way he moved. He was so guarded and cold. She ached for the playful Sin she had glimpsed in London and for a very brief time on the stairs with Simon.
She folded down the bedcovers so that he could rest should he need to. "Would you like for me to summon a bath for you?"
"Nay. I'll just rest for a bit."
She stepped closer to him. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
She reached up to touch his face and half expected him to dodge her hand.
He didn't.
Sin knew he should move away, but the comfort of her hand on his skin held him immobile. He'd been in caustic environments, surrounded by people who hated him the whole of his life. There was nothing new about this situation. Nothing except for the friendship she and Simon offered him.
For the first time in his life, he didn't feel all alone. And before he realized what he was doing, he dipped his head down and captured her lips with his own.
He moaned at the taste of her mouth, the sweetness of her breath. She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him even closer to her warmth.
Sin felt himself slipping even more. He wanted her in a way he'd never wanted anything else in his life. He wanted to hold her inside his withered heart, to keep her safe and protected, and yet he knew the foolishness of the thought.
He could never subject a woman like this to the horror of being an outcast. Her people were part of her and they would never accept him.
If his own brothers' people couldn't tolerate him, what hope did he have for these strangers? At least the members of the MacAllister clan had seen him as a child. Knew he technically belonged to them.
But even then, they had never really accepted him.
They had seen the scorn their lady bore for him and they had followed suit. While his brothers had been welcomed, he had always been an afterthought. Provided they even remembered him afterward.
He pulled back from her. "You should go visit with your family."
"You are my family, Sin."
Sin choked as a tidal wave of emotions tore through him. The force of it actually made his eyes tear for an instant. Aching and lost, he moved away from her.
"Milord?"
"Leave me," he growled.
"Sin?" She touched his arm.
Sin tore himself away from her and the confusing emotions she stirred. He needed time alone. Time to think through all this. Time to quell his body and soothe his soul.
"Just go!" he roared. "Leave me in peace."
Callie didn't know what to do. She'd never seen a man in so much pain and she couldn't fathom the cause. He was so angry and, in truth, frightening like this.
Part of her wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him close, but she didn't dare. He reminded her of a viper coiled and ready to strike out. Unwilling to push him, she nodded. "Should you need me, I will be below with my uncle."
Sin heard the door close behind her. He was so volatile, he wanted to tear something into pieces.
Most of all, he just wanted the pain in his heart to stop. He wanted to go downstairs and claim his wife. To live in the bliss of her acceptance.
Was that so much to ask?
In his mind's eye, he saw the way Draven had been with his wife and child. He ached with envy. A warm hearth and loving arms were not something he could ever have.
If your own mother can't stomach you, why should I? His stepmother's angry words echoed through him.
Sin raked his hands through his hair and he did his best to squelch the memories. He didn't want to think of the past.
"I don't want anything," he snarled.
And he didn't. Not Callie, not his lands. Nothing. He just wanted…
Closing his eyes, he summoned the cocoon of empty numbness that he had lived in for so long. Here, there was no pain. No past.
There was nothing.
It was the only comfort a man like him could hope for. Aye, here, if not the heaven of his wife's touch, there was a facsimile of peace. And it was enough.
But inside, he knew better. Callie had ripped him from his cocoon and he would never be the same.
* * *
Chapter 10
« ^ »
Callie spent the afternoon visiting with her family and friends, catching up on all the news and events she had missed over the last few months. Seana had had a little boy named Graham. Susannah had married her betrothed and now she thought she might be with child. Morna had kept the villag
e brewer company while worried out of her mind about Callie and Jamie.
And Dermot had been in love three times in the last two months. At least that was what Morna had told her. Callie wanted to ask her brother about the matter, but had a hard time, since he refused to get near her due to his unreasonable anger toward Sin.
Still, it was so good to see all of them again. Even Dermot, who really was behaving like a doormat. One all prickly and ready to chafe her feet if she got close to him.
Luckily her Aunt Diera, whom they had been planning to visit when they had been taken by Henry, was all healed and better from her fall.
All of them were delighted by her news of marriage until they learned Sin was an English lord. Then, one by one, she watched their faces fall and their eyes turn sharp with warning and loathing.
Callie was depressed by it. This wasn't going to be easy. Morna was the only one who even attempted to be happy for her.
Now Callie sat alone with Morna, kneading bread in the kitchen while they caught up on all the weeks she had been in London.
Morna's face was gentle as they worked, her eyes full of understanding. "I know 'tis hard, lovey, but what the others think isn't important. It's what you and Sin think."
"Why are you the only one who can accept him?"
Morna smiled while she floured her hands. Her long, dark brown hair was coiled becomingly around her head and she wore a red and green plaid over her kirtle. "Because I was once in Sin's shoes. When your da met me, I knew in an instant I would never love another man the way I loved him. He was the only thing in my world and I wanted him so much that my heart wept constantly in fear that he would have nothing to do with me."
"My father loved you."
"Aye, he did. But he was a fierce laird almost twice my age, and I the simple daughter of a shepherd. There were those such as Aster who fought hard to keep him from me."
The news surprised her. She couldn't recall a single time when Aster hadn't been respectful and kind to Morna. Indeed, she remembered him welcoming her into the family with open arms. "Aster?"
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