The five men were panting from their exertion.
Lochlan caught his breath first. "Hiding behind a woman, are you? Since when did you turn craven?"
She looked over her shoulder to see the taunting look on Sin's face. "Not hiding. I just don't want to hurt you."
Ewan scoffed. "Aye, like we'd be the ones hurting."
The three MacAllisters lunged, but Callie brought them up short before they could reach her husband. "He is injured."
Braden narrowed his gaze on Sin. "Not half as injured as he's going to be."
Callie spread her arms wide to keep the brothers from her husband. "What is all this about, then?"
Lochlan drew himself up indignantly and appeared to be greatly offended by her question. "He insulted us."
"And so you're going to pummel him?" she asked incredulously.
"Aye," they answered in unison.
She ran her hand over her forehead. Already she could feel an ache there from trying to deal with the hotheaded group. She directed her stare to Lochlan. "And you are laird of what again?" She paused and clucked her tongue. "Oh, I forgot, a respected and feared clan."
Lochlan cleared his throat.
"That's right, my love," Sin said from behind her, "you tell him."
"And you…" She turned to face her husband. "King's advisor, was it?" She shook her head at them, even though inside she found their behavior charming and refreshing.
Sin cast them a sullen glare. "They started it."
"Oh, well, that makes it right, then." Tsking, she cast a chiding look to all of them. "Now, children, I have work to be about. What say the five of you make nice and return to your food?"
"My stomach votes for food," Simon said, stepping forward. Something in his demeanor reminded her of a lad trying to make amends for his wrongdoing. "For the record, I wasn't in on this. I was merely an innocent observer."
She fought down her smile. "I am quite sure, Simon, thank you."
He nodded and left.
Reluctantly the MacAllisters followed, but they kept glancing back over their shoulders as if to see if Sin would follow. No doubt, they intended to renew their bloodlust at first chance.
As Sin started to go, Callie caught his hand and pulled him back toward her. She reached up and brushed her hand through his tousled hair. "You know, I think I like this teasing side of you."
Immediately she saw a shadow descend over his eyes. He pulled away, but didn't go far.
"Where were you last night?" she asked. "I know you didn't return to bed."
"I couldn't sleep."
"Why?"
He shrugged.
Callie moved toward him, wanting him to open up to her again like he'd done last night. "Sin, why must you withdraw from me? I thought we had settled some of this last night."
Sin swallowed as he saw the hurt in her eyes. He wanted desperately to reach out, pull her into his arms and kiss her until they were both blind from the pleasure of it. He wanted to feel himself inside her again. To hold her for the rest of eternity… and yet he dare not.
This morning had taught him well the depth of her clan's hatred for him. They would never accept him and he would never ask her to leave them. They were her family, and though she might call him that, too, he didn't believe it.
She barely knew him.
She'd spent her life caring for her clan, having them care for her. There was a bond between her and her people he refused to shatter.
What the two of them had…
It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, but that didn't really mean much to a man who had seldom had anything at all.
It was lust he felt for her. Petty and sordid. There was nothing more to it. He was incapable of anything better than that and he knew it.
"I'd best be getting back to my brothers."
Callie sighed wistfully as her husband left. He hadn't bothered to answer her.
"How can you stand to let that Sassenach touch you?"
She gasped in startled alarm as she heard Dermot's voice from the loft above. She looked up, trying to see him through the breaks in the wooden planks, but couldn't find him. "What are you doing up there, Dermot MacNeely?"
She heard a soft, girlish giggle, followed by him shushing the lass. Callie's face flamed at the thought of what they had overheard and what the two of them had been doing up there.
Dermot jumped down from the loft. Belting his plaid, he approached her. "You need to send him back to England where he belongs."
She glanced to the ceiling, where the lass was still hidden but obviously would have little trouble overhearing them. "This is not a discussion I plan to have with you. Most especially not here."
Dermot grabbed her arm and hauled her outside. "There is talk in the clan. If you don't send that Sassenach home, there are those who will do it for you. And he'll be going back to Henry in pieces."
She pulled her arm from his grasp. "Who is saying that?"
"You know who."
"In that case, you'd best be telling your Raider to leave my husband alone. If he is harmed again, I won't rest until I have every one of your rebel hides in the stocks."
He gaped in disbelief. "You would choose a Sassenach over your own brother?"
"I would not want to, but I won't have him hurt. Now tell me who shot him yesterday."
He jutted his jaw out defiantly, and by the light in his eyes she could tell he knew the answer but would sooner die than tell it to her. "It was only a warning. Next time, they won't miss his heart."
Callie removed the anger from her tone and tried to appeal to him more calmly. She loved her brother more than anything, and the last thing she wanted was to see him hurt for so foolish a cause.
"Dermot, please. Why must you be involved in this? If you will give me the names of the ones involved, I swear to you I won't turn them in, but I need to speak with them. We must have peace."
"Peace? Our father would be spinning in the earth to hear you say that. He hated the English, and if you were truly a daughter of his, you would never stand for that man to bed you. Let alone beg him for it."
For the first time in her life, Callie wanted to slap her brother. Her palm itched from the want of it. "Give me the name of the Raider."
"Or what?" he sneered. "Will you tell your precious Sassenach husband that I am one of the ones who raid?"
She was aghast at the very idea of it. "I have never betrayed you."
"And you better not." The cold fury in his eyes scared her. She'd never seen him like this before.
"Are you threatening me?"
The look softened ever so subtly. "I would never hurt you; however, I will not betray them. If your husband ever learns I am one of the rebels, he will have me tortured for the rest of the names. Are you willing to see me executed?"
"Of course not."
"Then get rid of him."
Oh, the lad could be insufferably stubborn. And selfish. How dare he stand there and make such demands? But it was time she let him know her stance on this issue. "I am his wife. If he leaves, I must leave, too."
"Then let us kill him."
She shook her head at him. Now he was being completely unreasonable. "Could you honestly do that?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Have you any idea the number of men he has killed? Jamie said he heard the English knights curse his name and relate the horrors that man has wreaked on others. He said your husband was known to cut the throats of sleeping men. It would only be justice to see him dead."
"I don't believe that to be justice," she breathed. "Desperate men do desperate things. You know Father's saying as well as I do. What my husband did, he did for survival. I won't hold that against him. He was a scared boy."
"A scared boy who cost many men their lives." He was so harsh and judgmental, and she wondered when he had changed. The Dermot she remembered was a dear lad who was quick to laugh and even quicker to let bygones be bygones. But this half-grown man before her was a stranger to her.
&
nbsp; "Sin made mistakes," she insisted.
"He committed crimes and he should pay for them."
"You are not his judge."
Dermot glared at her. "Did you live with the English so long that they clouded your mind and won your heart?"
"You know better than that."
"Do I?"
Och, the lad was making her angrier and angrier. If she didn't leave soon, they were both going to say things they would regret even more.
"You are selfish, Dermot. You need to be growing up, lad, and learning that sometimes we have to compromise for the welfare of others."
"Compromise? You're talking of embracing an enemy my father gave his life trying to defeat."
"Dermot, please. Be reasonable. This is a different world we live in now. We need to—"
"You make your peace." He raked her with a disgusted glare. "But in my heart, I know I am right, and when I die and see Father again, I know I shall be able to look him in the eye with a clear conscience. Tell me, will you?"
Callie flinched at his words. "Of course I will."
He snorted in derision. "Then I wish you happiness with the lies you tell yourself." He stalked off.
Callie shouted after him, "Tell your rebel friends to be here tonight. My husband wishes a word with all the men of the clan."
He paused and turned to face her with a wry grin. "Oh, I'll tell them, all right. This is one meeting I wouldn't miss for anything."
A shiver ran down her spine. Whatever was she to do with Dermot? The lad had no sense, to be following the others. But then, he'd always been that way. Always let others lead him into mischief. She only hoped this time they didn't lead him to his grave.
Sin retired late in the afternoon to his chambers. He didn't tell his brothers of the ache in his shoulder or the fact he hadn't slept the night before. Much like Ewan, he'd spent the night in the hall.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he discovered the room empty of his wife's vivacious presence. He wished to be alone for a bit with nothing to cloud his mind.
After doffing his clothes, he slid himself into the bed. He should be able to take a brief nap before meeting with the men of her clan.
And for some morbid reason, he was actually looking forward to it. But he would need his head clear. His mind fully alert.
Closing his eyes, he let out a long, exhausted breath.
To his dismay, the door opened.
He froze, steeled for action should the intruder be an enemy.
It wasn't. He heard Callie's light footsteps as she crossed the room, oblivious to him. He slit his eyes open a hair to watch her set her laundry down on a small desk by the window. As she turned, she spied his clothes folded on the floor where he'd left them.
Her gaze traveled along the floor, then up the bed to where he lay. Sin didn't move. For some reason, he didn't want her to know he watched her.
A gentle smile curled her lips as her gaze fell on him. Very quietly, she pulled the shutters closed to darken the room for him, then she moved silently toward the bed.
She stopped by his side and placed one graceful, cool hand against his brow.
"You've a fever," she whispered. "Do you wish me to send for a physician?"
"How did you know I was awake?"
"You didn't flinch when I neared you. If you'd been asleep, you'd have me on the floor by now."
Her words cut him. "I would never harm you in such a way, Callie."
She smiled at that and brushed his hair back from his damp forehead. "I know, Sin. Do you wish a healer?"
He shook his head. "I just need to rest for a bit."
Callie traced her hand through the softness of his hair. He looked almost boyish, lying there with his cheeks pinkened by his fever. She glanced to the wound in his shoulder. There was no sign of infection. It appeared to be healing well, yet his fever concerned her.
"I sent a summons to all the men," she said quietly.
"Thank you."
She ran her hand from his hair, down his neck and arm to his hand. She held it in hers, staring at the scars that marked his flesh. His hand was so rough and masculine. Strong. Capable. And as she held it, she remembered the way his hands had felt on her body last night. The way his hands could both comfort and protect her.
She wrapped her other hand around his, holding it tight and hoping that she would have many afternoons like this when she could spend a quiet moment with him.
"Can I get you anything?" she asked.
Sin looked to where she toyed with his hand. The paleness of her soft, delicate skin was a sharp contrast to the dark roughness of his. Her hand was so tiny in comparison. So fine and dainty.
How could something so small shake him so profoundly? Those hands shouldn't have the power to do anything to him, and yet they made him hot and gave him a comfort that defied his best abilities to name.
He shook his head.
She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles, making his body roar to life with a vicious demand for hers. "I'll make sure no one disturbs you."
She got up, leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek. He savored the feel of her lips on his skin. And it took all his strength not to pull her into the bed with him and make love to her.
Instead, he let the kindness of her seep into him. The warmth of her lips touch the ragged edges of a heart that was just beginning to beat.
He heard her leave the room and close the door. Aching with regret, he balled his hand in the fur cover.
Why had she been given to him, when the very saints above knew there was no chance for them to have a life together?
But then, he knew.
Henry wanted peace and he was willing to sacrifice anything for it. Though Sin liked to pretend otherwise, he knew the truth of their relationship. When all was said and done, he was nothing more than a pawn to Henry. A servant, and should he ever fail to be useful to Henry, his life would be worthless.
Callie stood on the castle steps as the men of her clan gathered around. She'd had her servants prepare food and drink for the men in hopes of placating them.
To her complete and utter non-surprise, it didn't work. The air around them was rife with hostility. They all knew something wasn't right for them to be summoned here. They just didn't know what that something was.
"Caledonia, my sweet."
She turned at Fraser's voice. He stood just an inch taller than she and had bright blue eyes and dark blond hair. His smile always easy, he had a pleasant and open manner that she had often found soothing.
Before she had been captured by Henry, he had asked Aster for permission to court her. Though they had plenty in common and shared similar temperaments, she'd never felt romantically inclined toward him. He was like an older brother to her.
She offered him a genuine, if somewhat cool, smile. "Fraser, how are you?"
"Much better now that I know you are well. You've no idea how many times I urged your uncle to let us head to London to reclaim you. But he wouldn't hear of it."
A chill went up her spine at the underlying tone of his voice and the peculiar gleam in his eye. He was hiding something in that glib statement.
Could he be the rebel leader?
Like her father, he was a passionate hater of the English and he did have the demeanor of a man comfortable with ordering others about. It was possible. Not to mention he and Dermot were friends.
The crowd drew instantly silent.
Frowning, Callie looked around to find her husband standing in the doorway.
Sin's long, black hair spilled over his shoulders, vanishing into the blackness of his English surcoat and mail. He stood tall and proud with one gauntlet-covered hand on the hilt of his sword. Those piercing black eyes that could make her feel so deeply took in the entire scene at once, and he bore an aura of such power and lethal grace that it sent a shiver through her.
It was obvious to all, this was a man of authority. A man who saw more than just what was before him. And the men around he
r reacted to him like a group of restless predators who knew their leadership and territory was being threatened by this man's presence.
"Bloody hell, what's that Sassenach doing here?"
She didn't know the owner of that voice, but the sentiment was echoed all around her.
Her heart pounded in fear of what her clansmen would do. Most of them had yet to hear of her marriage and she wondered why Aster wasn't there to help.
The insults grew as Sin stood there in silence, sizing them up one by one. It was eerie to watch him, for she knew what he was doing. He was making a mental note of every man there, of his behavior and words. This was the Sin who held the king's ear. The knight no one had ever defeated in battle.
And the longer he stood there watching them while they insulted him, the angrier the clansmen became at his stoic silence.
"Where's the MacNeely?" one of the men shouted at Sin. "What have you done with him?"
Like a raging tide, the men were getting ready to attack Sin, who didn't seem the least bit concerned by their anger or animosity.
Terrified, she gathered her skirts and rushed to stand by her husband's side. "Please!" she said loudly, holding her hands up to silence them.
When their voices quieted to a murmur, she spoke again. "Most of you are unaware that I am now married." She offered a smile to her husband and took his arm in hers. "Sin—"
A fierce curse sounded from Fraser. His eyes flaming, he strode up the stairs to sneer at her. "Tell me it's not true, Callie. Why would you be a whoring—"
Sin moved so fast she didn't even see his arm in motion. One minute Fraser was insulting her, and the next Sin had him by the throat.
Fraser tried to pry Sin's grip loose with both his hands, but it did no good.
The look on Sin's face was one of hell's wrath, and when he spoke his tone was low, lethal. "Insult my wife again or even look in her general direction, and I will rip your throat out. Do you understand?"
Fraser nodded.
Sin released him.
Fraser coughed and rubbed his throat. His fierce gaze bored into Sin, but he wisely held his tongue.
Sin looked out at her clansmen. "As for the rest of you, I have been sent here by King Henry to make sure no one else raids the English who live in the neighboring towns and areas." He centered his gaze on Fraser. "I know not who the rebels are, but I will find out and those responsible will be punished."
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