by J. L. Jarvis
Mari studied his face as he struggled to tell her what burdened him so. He looked so remote as to be out of reach. The next moment, he looked at her and softened to melancholy that made her heart ache.
Callum said, “My mother and father were childhood playmates. They grew up together. My mother once told me she did not recall falling in love because it always was there. When they grew old enough, they were lovers.”
Mari had not realized how heavy Callum’s burden felt on her shoulders until now. She was relieved just to lean back and listen.
“Life in the highlands is different. Peace is fragile. Our life depends upon the strength of the clan and our loyalty to it. I know that, for you, we must seem very coarse. But what you dinnae see is the cord that ties all of us to one another. We live and die for each other. It is in our blood. A man’s honor means everything here, and my father understood his. He had a duty to his people from which he could not—he would not—shrink.”
Mari knew Callum. As much as he might have believed what he said, she saw how doubt gnawed within him, never healing. Had it truly been duty that drove his father’s decision, or had he chosen the life he preferred?
“My mother was pregnant with me when he told her of his upcoming marriage.”
Mari thought back upon her first meeting with Callum. Most men would have viewed her with disdain for her pregnant condition, but he never had. He had never questioned her worth, or even her virtue, for having been with another man first. Now she understood better the ease with which he was able to love her with no regard to her past.
Callum went on. “His marriage was arranged. There was no turning back. At least, that’s how he saw it. My mother defended his choice to the end. But the truth was, she was lonely.
“He did not lie to her—or to his wife. Lady MacDonell always knew about my mother. On their wedding night, he warned her not to love him. But she did. And she hated my mother.”
“It must have been hard for her.”
He cast a sharp look that softened at once. “Aye, and for us. Not long after his wife lost her first child, my brother was born. He was healthy. My mother was happy. And Lady MacDonell was not. She lost another child, and then another. And then the pregnancies stopped. And all along there we were, my brother and I, to remind her of how she had failed to produce an heir for my father. The chief was good to his wife, but he never stopped loving my mother.”
“And you?”
Callum smiled with a haunting pain in his eyes. “Och, I suppose that he loved me too, in his way. But Lady MacDonell played on his guilt, so he never dared show it. She made sure that everyone knew that my brother and I were bastards. And they did not forget—nor did the lads we would play with and train with. We grew up with the taunting, and I learned to fight. But my brother had a gentler soul. And in time it killed him. After he took his own life, my mother was never quite the same. She lived on for a few years more, but it had broken her spirit.”
Mari touched his hand and he closed it around hers.
“She deserved more. And yet, as she lay dying, she said she had loved and been loved, and had born two fine sons. Her life and her heart had been full.” A bitter look clouded his face. “But my father was not there even then. She died alone.”
“Callum,” Mari said, wanting to tell him how sorry she was, and to promise that he would not be alone. She would love him forever. But he held her and kissed her before she could say it, and somehow the words were no longer needed.
Callum took Mari’s hand and led the way back to camp. “So you see, Lady MacDonell would not have missed the chance to ride out to greet us. Not only was she able to show me that she was pregnant, she was able to watch the chief send me away. After long years of waiting, she finally saw me get put in my place.”
“Callum,” Mari started to disagree, but looking back, she could not.
His voice had a hard edge as he said, “She need not have bothered. I’ve been reminded of it every day of my life. I will never forget what I am.”
*
They arrived at the blackhouse by the sea. There they found peace, warming themselves and each other beside the peat fire in the center of the room. They lived off the oats and smoked beef that the chief had sent with them. After a month, he sent a cow and more food to last them until spring came and they could gather their own. Sporadic days of sun grew more frequent until the spring came. They walked the heath, gathering wild sorrel and nettles, and fishing for salmon and trout in the river. Callum dug peat, and Mari helped bring it back to the house, where they stacked it for fires and to fill in the gaps in the rock walls. She made butter and cheese while Callum hung fish from the roof to smoke over the fire. Summer came and brought long days of sea breezes and sun, and cool mists when it rained. Life was simple and full.
They had been through a long stretch of rain when one morning the sun shone through a thick mist. Mari finished feeding the cow, and they went for a walk to decide if the weather might be sunny enough to make hay.
“No, it’s too wet. I’ll go fishing instead,” Callum said with a look toward the sea.
“The raspberries are ripe. Would you fancy a raspberry cranachan when you come back from your fishing?”
Callum scooped his arm about Mari’s waist. “That’s not all that I’d fancy,” he said as he pulled her against him and kissed her. And there, in the field, he unfastened her bodice and growled into her ear, “Mari, love. It’s a shame that the ground is so wet, or I’d take you right here. But that tree over there looks inviting.” With a wicked grin, he scooped her into his arms and carried her over to the tree, where he set her down gently, leaning her back to the tree.
“And what about your fishing?” she whispered, as he stroked her earlobe with his tongue. A light gasp slipped out. “And the berries?” It came out as a weak sigh at best.
“Stop talking,” he whispered into her neck as he worked his way down the newly parted bodice to the edge of her corset.
She smoothed her hands up his thighs until he groaned and buried his face in her breasts.
As he hoisted her up with her legs wrapped around him, she gave in to the pulse of his body against hers. How she had missed the fit of their flesh together, and his unabashed fervor.
As she caught her breath, he tenderly set her down. “You’ve made me weak in the knees,” she said with a laugh as she tightened her grip on his shoulder.
He smiled. “I’ll not let you fall. If I did, I might not get that raspberry cranachan you’ve promised.”
“Oh, I see! So you’re just after my cooking?”
He could not help grinning. “Something akin to that. Although you are a fair bonnie lassie. Come gie us another kiss.”
“If you were not so handsome, I’d never put up with you!”
“Aye, but I am, no?” He grinned.
“Aye, and modest!” With a light laugh, she picked up her basket and shooed him away. “Go catch us some supper while I pick some fine berries.”
“Och, lass. Would you send me away?”
“Aye, I would,” she said as she set out. With a sudden stop, she said quietly, “Callum.”
He went to her side.
“Do you see something there? In the mist?” she asked.
In an instant, Callum pulled Mari behind him and pulled out his dirk. “Hie you inside, Mari.”
“Not without you!”
“Mind me, lass. Climb the ladder up into the rafters and hide yourself there until I come for you.”
His stern tone and strong arm sent her back to the cottage as two horsemen thundered out of the mist and headed straight for Callum.
Chapter 22
Callum steeled himself, gripping his dirk. Defensive moves raced through his mind. He had to keep himself between the horsemen and Mari. He could use his agility to his advantage, but against two horsemen, that would only get him so far. He could shift direction to dodge their blows, at least for a while, but he was in the more vulnerable position. He knew
it well, as would they. His mind raced.
“You’ll be wanting this,” Mari said, as she put his basket hilt sword in his hands.
“You’re a brave one, Mari MacDonell.” With a proud look, he said, “Now get back inside.”
“I’ve a dirk, and I’ll use it before I go back inside.” As she spoke, her eyes remained set on the horsemen’s approach. “Callum? Are those—”
“Aye.” He started to laugh. “MacDonell plaids. Aye, that they are.”
Mari ran up to greet them as Alex and Charlie dismounted. Alex first caught Mari in an embrace, and then released her to Charlie. She hesitated, unsure of how he would receive her after the way they had parted. Her doubts vanished as he offered a warm smile and open arms.
“Come here, dearie.”
After a hug that put tensions behind them, she said, “Och, look at the two of you. Come in and rest, and I’ll get you some ale. Are you hungry? Of course you are.” She arranged herself between the two men and hooked her arms through theirs as she led them inside. “I’m so happy to see you!”
“Mari,” said Charlie, as she sat him down at the table.
Mari was too excited to hear the serious tone in his voice. “Did you go by the castle? Of course you did. How is Nellie?”
“Mari,” Charlie repeated, a bit louder.
She looked at him with surprise, but his look told her that something was not right. Her eyes flashed to Alex, who was silently watching her, with a somber look that alarmed her.
Callum watched and drew close beside Mari.
Alex met Mari’s gaze with a directness that made her shudder. “Your brother’s dead, Mari.”
She did not move, nor did anyone else. Having seen death and brought news of it before, they knew better than to speak yet. Mari seemed not to have heard him.
Callum took hold of her arm. “Come, lass. Let’s sit down.”
Mari looked at Alex, and then Charlie. “Did you kill him?”
Charlie met her eyes squarely. “I tried to.”
Mari started to nod slowly.
“Alex stopped me,” said Charlie.
Her eyes darted to Alex, who looked downward.
Charlie’s words caught in his throat. “Jamie was there at Airds Moss. He had joined up with Cameron. They were praying.” Charlie shook his head, not believing.
Alex said, “Our orders were to surround them. Barely a man escaped.”
Mari said, “And how did he die?” She looked plainly from one to the other.
“Just tell me.”
Charlie said, “I dinnae do it, if that’s what you’re thinking. I would have, but Alex stopped me. I’m sorry, Mari, but he killed my brother. I had my dirk at his throat, but Alex reminded me that we had to take him back to Edinburgh. We needed to return him so Jamie could take his rightful place in prison. Then Callum would be free.”
“And we did that,” said Alex. “We took him back, and secured your freedom, Callum.”
Callum gave a slight nod to Alex, but said nothing out of deference to Mari. Regardless of what Jamie had done, he was Mari’s brother, for whom she was grieving. He would not express his own joy at her brother’s expense, but he let Alex know with a look that he was deeply grateful.
Alex went on. “We were sure he would get transportation, his original sentence.”
“But he did not,” said Mari softly.
Alex shook his head grimly.
Charlie said, “Airds Moss was a bloody business. They cut off Cameron’s head, and—”
“We dinnae need all the details,” said Callum, his eyes darting toward Mari.
“When we got back to Edinburgh, Jamie was put on trial.” Alex lifted sympathetic eyes to Mari’s. “He was sentenced to death.”
“Oh, Jamie.” Callum guided Mari to a chair. “All alone.”
Charlie said, “It all happened so fast. We could not get here to tell you and bring you to him. But your parents were there.”
Startled, Mari looked up. “Were they?”
Alex said, “Aye. He did not die alone.”
“Good,” Mari said, but an odd look came over her. Callum took hold of her shoulders. “Mari, lass?”
“For all that he’s done, with all the men he has killed, they went to him.” She tried to fathom it. “With Jamie, no sin was too great for their forgiveness.” Her lips spread, almost smiling. “But for falling in love, I am dead to the people I love. At least Jamie died with their love. They left me with no family.”
Callum said quietly, “Except us.”
*
In an effort to get her mind off her grief, Mari spent the afternoon staying busy. She went out to get berries and came back to cook. The men went fishing for supper and returned ready for the mugs of ale Callum kept filled. When the eating was done, the talk turned to the future. In the fire’s warm glow, Mari set her mind toward happier matters. It was good to see Alex and Charlie. Although it hurt to think of Charlie with a knife at Jamie’s throat, she knew he had fresh in his mind the vision of Hugh’s death by her brother’s hand. As much as Jamie’s death grieved her, Hughie’s grieved her as well. She could not fault Charlie for harboring bitter feelings. They had done the right thing in bringing Jamie to justice to restore Callum’s freedom. Mari could not blame them for a result no one would have expected. Perhaps Callum was right. They were family, and family forgave if they were to stay together. She needed to feel there was family about her. She glanced around the table at the men as they laughed over something she’d missed. The three men looked so happy. She would always miss Jamie and her parents, but this was her family now.
The men spoke of more cheerful matters. “It was Glengarry who did it,” said Alex.
Callum lifted his chin and stared, unbelieving.
“Aye, when he learned of Jamie’s capture, he dispatched a letter to each man on the Edinburgh City Council. The man is not without influence. Your pardon was signed and then we were charged with delivering it back to Invergarry.”
Callum leaned back. “Glengarry did that for me?”
Alex nodded, content to see how much the news must mean to Callum.
Callum reached over and grasped Mari’s hand. “No more hiding, my love. We can go wherever we want.”
She looked at him, and shared not only relief, but new hope for the future. Their lives could move forward.
Callum said, “Where shall we go, lassie?”
“Invergarry,” said Charlie.
“I was not asking you,” Callum said with an arch look. “Unless you answer to ‘lassie’ now.”
Alex leaned back and laughed. “What a bonnie lassie he’d make.”
“Aye, far more bonnie than any lass who would have you,” Charlie said, with a sideways glance.
Alex grinned, and turned to Callum. “I hadnae meant discuss it this evening, but the subject seems to have come up.” He rolled his eyes in Charlie’s direction. “I ken that you’ve had enough news for one night.” Alex paused.
“May as well tell me now,” said Callum.
Mari slipped her hand into the crook of Callum’s arm, where it leaned on the table.
“Lady MacDonell died a sennight ago,” said Charlie.
Alex said, “The wee bairn was stillborn. She was gone the next day.”
“I’m sorry,” said Mari.
“Glengarry has not been himself,” Alex said.
Mari nodded. “Understandably.”
“Aye, true enough.” Alex studied his interlaced hands for a moment, and then looked up at Callum. “We’re to bring you back with us.”
*
When they arrived at Glengarry, the chief greeted them, shared a meal, and retired to his rooms. Callum did his best to conceal his surprise when he and Mari were given a room in the castle. While Lady MacDonell was alive, he had never been invited to stay in the castle. He had never dared hope for this sudden inclusion in castle life. Even so, Glengarry spoke little to them, and never of why they were here or how long they would remain.
In the days that followed, Glengarry was scarce, grieving alone and not leaving his rooms except to oversee the most pressing matters. But the days passed and Glengarry emerged from his grief, and began to spend time with the people around him. On one such evening, he invited Mari and Callum to the solar. The late summer night had grown cool. They had gathered about a large fire. A glowing log sparked and crackled.
Glengarry said simply, “I’d like you to stay.”
Callum lifted his eyes toward his father’s. His throat thickened with emotion. How many times over the years had he wished for these words?
“As my son,” he added, meeting his eyes squarely.
“Aye?” Callum answered. He was too stunned to say more. He had spent his life as an outsider, a bastard. It had shaped who he was as a man. He had turned years of emptiness and sometimes ridicule into strength of heart, mind and body. And now, when he had finally resolved who he was as a man, he was given the chance to be something he had not dreamed of since childhood: Glengarry’s son.
“Think on it,” said his father.
Callum nodded. He could not shake the feeling that there was something more. It was in Glengarry’s manner, something to which Callum had become attuned over the years. He chastised himself for being so reluctant to trust. After all, it was a simple offer. And why would Glengarry not long to have family about him?
“You honor me, sir.”
*
Later, a fire warmed the night air as the men sat about it outside on a bright moonlit night. Mari had gone to sleep, but Callum was restless. He came to join them with a sudden longing for their simple life as dragoons, when few problems loomed from one day to the next. He told them of his father’s offer. They were not surprised.
Charlie said, “When we were sent to bring you back, we expected it. After all, he’s lost his only heir.”
“Only legitimate heir,” Alex corrected. “There are rumblings in the clan. The chief knows this and wants to secure the clan’s peace and stability after he’s gone.”