by J. L. Jarvis
Callum slowed down to a walk, afraid she might run if he approached her too quickly.
“I was a brute and a damned fool to speak to you so.”
“Aye, you were,” Mari said softly. She lifted her eyes to meet his. “I’ve never known you to be either.”
“Lass.” He reached for her hand, but she moved it only slightly from him, but enough to cause him to drop his hand to his side. Her withdrawal wounded him deeply. He looked at her with the eyes of a broken man and spoke in a low voice. “It was the thought of losing you. I could not—I cannae bear it.” He swallowed and looked off to the distance, unable to speak. When emotion overcame him, he looked away to hide it from her. When he was able to speak, he said, “Have I lost you already?”
The light touch of her hand on his shoulder was all he needed to spin around and sweep her into a strong embrace. They clung to each other. Mari sobbed herself to exhaustion.
“I cannae bear to lose you,” he said as he clutched her against him.
“I dinnae ken how to leave you,” she whispered. “But if we do not part, there will be a clan war.”
A moan escaped from his throat as he leaned down to kiss her. “You are my wife.”
They sat, half concealed by tall grasses, beside one another. Callum circled his arm about Mari’s shoulder as she rested against his broad chest. Mari spoke first. “You have a duty.”
“My first duty is to you.”
“And how happy could I be if by putting me first, a clan war broke out? Lives would be lost. They are your friends and your loved ones. Your duty is to them as well.”
“I willnae let you go.”
“Callum, I will never leave you. I vowed it once before, and I meant it.” She looked plainly at him.
He met her gaze, and knew what she was thinking. “No.”
“Callum, listen. Let me bide here. I dinnae care about anything but to be with you.”
“No, Mari. I willnae have you live like my mother. I saw what it did to her.”
“It’s the only way.”
“No.”
Resigned to her fate, she stopped arguing with him. One look and she knew that he saw she was right.
“No, Mari,” he said, but his words were futile. He held her in his arms as all around them the grasses yielded to the cool evening breezes.
* * *
Duncan came home from the sea. His parents lived in a small cottage near Nellie’s. They told him all the news of the castle.
“And Jenny?”
His mother’s kind eyes were almost too much to bear. “She’s away to Inverness with her mother to shop—”
“For the wedding.” Duncan finished the sentence.
“Aye.” She reached for him, but Duncan waved her off and changed the subject. “What of Callum and Mari?”
By the time they were finished, he’d learned that Callum was to be married. As for Mari, no one seemed to know what would become of her. All they knew was that she was staying at Nellie’s.
After he’d finished the midday meal his mother had prepared, Duncan went for a walk straight to Nellie’s. Mari was bringing in a pail of milk when she saw him. Setting it down, she ran to him and threw her arms about him. He could not help but return the embrace.
“Nellie’s having a wee lie down. She tires easily lately. I worry about her,” said Mari. She picked up the milk pail, but Duncan took it from her and carried it into the cottage. As he set it down, Nellie sharply inhaled and then settled to sleep. Mari grasped Duncan’s hand and led him outside. “Let’s go for a walk. I want to hear everything that has happened to you.”
They walked holding hands through the grass and along a path into the trees. Mari laughed at something he said and her hand slipped away as she brushed hair away from her face. Duncan forced a smile, feeling its loss. When they came to a fallen log, they sat down. It was easy to talk, but he had no desire to entertain her with stories of the sea and port cities.
“What has happened?” he asked, suddenly serious.
Mari’s expression dissolved and her eyes filled with tears. “So you’ve heard?”
“Not from you.”
“Aye, well, there isnae much to tell, is there?” Mari glanced at him and then looked away, into the shadows of trees.
Duncan waited, content to be with her.
Mari said, “Callum’s father has claimed him as his own and taken him in. He never spoke of it much, but he longed for it deeply. Now he has a home, and a place he belongs.”
“And you by his side?”
Sad eye settled on his. “Not beside him, but not far away.” She could not hold his gaze. As she cast her eyes down, a tear dropped to her chest and soaked into the cloth.
Without thinking, he reached for the same strand of hair that the breezes kept blowing onto her face, and he brushed it back over her ear. He lifted his hand, nearly stroking her hair, but pulled back. Instead, he leaned his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands while he stared at the ground.
Mari said, “He must marry a MacKenzie to bring peace to our clans. There is no proof of our marriage, so if no one disputes it, it doesnae exist.”
“But you exist. How can he do this to you?”
With limpid eyes, Mari met Duncan’s gaze. “Because I told him to.”
Duncan could not speak without telling her what he really thought, so he said nothing.
Mari looked straight ahead and spoke as though she were convincing herself more than Duncan. “It’s the right thing to do. All the fighting must stop, and this will end it.”
Duncan started to speak, but Mari went on. “If he stayed with me, there would only be more fighting and more people killed—perhaps Callum—or you.”
She turned to face him, and her sadness disarmed him. He disagreed, but he would not argue. To do so would change nothing. But he could not help but wonder how she would manage it. How could she watch Callum marry another, and live as another woman’s husband? How would she endure it? As strong as she was, such a burden could crush any spirit. She could not be alone, and she would not. This was something Duncan could do for her. He could be there for her to lean on, if she would have him. But now was not the time to talk of such things.
They emerged from the woods, and Duncan was suddenly self-conscious. He and Jenny had walked through these same woods as young lovers stealing away together. “I had not thought how it might look for us walking alone. Some will say ‘tis not seemly.”
“Let them think what they will,” Mari said, having resigned herself to her fate. “Before all this is over, they’ll think worse of me, of that I am certain.”
There was little late afternoon light left when they arrived back at the cottage. Nellie was awake and beginning to prepare supper. Mari insisted on taking over so Nellie could rest.
“Duncan, you’ll stay?”
“If I know my mother, she’s preparing a feast for me. I could not disappoint her.”
Mari smiled. “Aye, well come back later, if you like.”
He gave a halfhearted smile.
“Please? It would be almost like our evenings in Edinburgh. Have you seen Charlie and Alex?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, perhaps I could send one of the boys to the castle to fetch them.”
When he hesitated, Mari said, “Good. Then I’ll see you after supper. Please?” She looked almost her old self as she gave him a pleading, and most charming, look.
“For you, darlin’.” He grinned, and they felt once more easy together.
A rap at the door broke their lingering gaze.
Mari opened the door to find a young lad. “This is for you, Mistress,” he said, holding out a small bundle.
“Why thank you. Who sent you with this?”
“Mr. MacDonell.”
“Callum?” she said, more to herself than to the boy.
“Aye, Mr. Callum MacDonell.”
Mari gave him some shortbread she’d made that morning. After he’d thanked her, he w
ent running away.
Duncan watched the lad with a smile, recalling his own youth. When he looked back at Mari, the bundle was opened and Mari was still. Duncan closed the door. “Mari, what is it?”
She set down a small pouch full of coins. With false cheer, she said, “Well, I’d best get to supper.”
Duncan and Nellie exchanged looks while Mari pretended that nothing was wrong. He went over to her and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I’ll be back later.”
* * *
After stopping at home to tell his mother he would be late for supper, Duncan strode up to the castle. Before he reached Callum, Alex and Charlie stopped him. They exchanged greetings, which Duncan cut short. Given the time he had been gone, it seemed odd.
When Charlie became distracted by a maid on an errand form the kitchen, Alex pulled Duncan aside. “What is it? You’ve a look in your eyes I’ve only seen before battle.”
“Aye, well, I’ve been to see Mari.”
Alex nodded, now understanding.
“Callum just had a boy deliver a purse full of coins to Mari, as though she were—as if it were her wages.” He stopped and swallowed.
“Now, Duncan—”
“He’s broken her heart.”
“From what I understand, she broke his.” Alex gripped Duncan’s shoulder. “I’ve been here. It’s not nearly as simple as you seem to believe.”
“I’ll hear that from Callum.” He pushed past Alex, but Alex grabbed hold of his arms. “He’s about to sit down to supper.”
“With Seaforth and that woman?”
“Lady Aemilia,” Alex said with a nod. “Let’s talk after supper. After that, in the morning, you can talk to Callum.”
Duncan gritted his teeth and reluctantly nodded. “Och, I forgot. Mari asked me to invite you and Charlie to visit this evening.”
“Good. We can talk then.”
Duncan gave barely a nod before turning to leave. Alex gave Charlie a light slap on the head to draw his attention from the pretty young maid he was charming. Alex kept walking without looking back, while Charlie gave her his most charming grin and bounded off to catch up with Alex.
* * *
Callum took his place beside Aemilia for supper. The past few days had left her looking weary. Framed by flaming curls, her wan face appeared almost ghostly.
“Lady Aemilia, has the weather been to your liking?” asked Callum.
Her eyes darted back toward him with a startled expression. “I’m sorry?”
“Do you not think the weather has been sunny and fine?”
Lady Aemilia forced a weak smile. “Oh. Yes, I suppose it has.” Her eyes met his, and then flitted downward to her food, which she stared at, making no effort to eat.
Callum looked out at the great hall from his seat at the dais. Everyone looked in good spirits. He glanced over at Glengarry and Seaforth. Even they looked close to tolerating one another’s company. This wedding would make friends from foes. More importantly, it would save lives. And although it would cost him his own, or the life he had wanted, it would serve a greater good. He reminded himself of this often, otherwise he could not go forward with this. This was his duty, to his clan and its people.
And right now that duty would be served by making conversation with his betrothed. After all, this was no more her fault than his. “Have you been outside for a walk or a ride?”
Lady Aemilia glanced toward him, barely meeting his eyes. “Aye.”
“And how did you find it?”
“Woods, a loch, and steep hills. I have seen these before.” While she did not speak with impatience, her gentle tone did not hide her disinterest.
Callum arched an eyebrow. “I see.” He looked away to hide the smirk he could barely control.
She turned her head to face him directly for the first time this evening. Callum was once more struck by her fragile beauty, more vivid perhaps because this was the first time she had looked into his eyes. She was lovely, to be sure. But in this moment she gave him an unshielded view of her sadness in all of its depth. Her voice was quiet and smooth. “I have ridden through woods and trod down the rough path to the water. My toes have been wetted. I have sat in the solar and pulled needles through cloth, a task I confess I do loathe. And I have discussed every possible aspect of the weather, from sunrise to sunset, since I have been here. I feel that I now have a full measure of life here. While I cannae fully express how I feel about it, I feel certain you can imagine, for you feel no more affection for me than I do for you.”
This was more than she had spoken to him since they had met. He was not quite prepared to respond.
“Lady Aemilia—”
“Please, sir. It would be better if we didnae pretend.”
He could not quite decide between offense, annoyance, or sympathy. “I have offered no pretense. I, too, agree it is good to be honest. Although supper may not be the best place or time, while we are in full view of our clansmen.” He took in the glances and whispers that spread down the tables below.
She said, “I am sorry. From what I can tell, you are a kind man. But I cannae live day after day lying to one another. Our marriage will be lie enough.”
Callum leaned back and studied her, and she knew it.
She would not meet his eyes. “I ken that I’ve been blunt.”
Callum smiled wryly. “Well, if we’re to be honest, you have.”
She peered into his eyes. “You seem like a good man, but I shall never love you.”
Callum stared blankly at her. “I shall keep that in mind.”
“Sir, I am feeling unwell. Please excuse me.”
She rose and left, stopping long enough to make her apologies to her host, and then to her brother.
As she walked away, Callum almost wanted to smile. In some ways, he could not blame her. She knew her mind and her heart, and was honest with a startling frankness. However, she ignored what was best for her people. She was selfish. He could not admire that.
* * *
Duncan, Alex, and Charlie sat around Nellie’s fireplace with Mari. Having arrived after supper, they had talked through the evening. Nellie nodded off in her chair while soft voices peppered the silence that settles at the end of an evening. The fire drew Mari to stare and remember. The happy memories had become sad reminders of what she would lose after Callum was married. In passing, Duncan’s hand settled on Mari’s shoulder for a moment, and then he sat down. Mari barely lifted her chin to acknowledge him there.
Charlie was the first to stand and bid Mari goodnight, and the others soon followed. But before they could say their goodbyes, a knock sounded.
“Mari.”
She straightened the instant she heard Callum’s voice.
Alex first looked to Mari for her permission. As he opened the door, Duncan moved over to stand beside Mari. If this was meant to provide any sense of support, Mari failed to notice. Her attention was on the opening door, and the man in the doorway. In the silence, unvoiced thoughts charged the air. Callum took a step toward her while the other men instinctively stiffened their posture, as though Callum posed some sort of threat. This did not escape Callum’s notice as he glanced at Alex and Charlie. And then his eyes met Duncan’s unwavering look. Callum’s mouth quirked in wry amusement that went instantly somber. He looked down for a moment, and then lifted troubled eyes to Mari and let his gaze settle there, soft and heavy.
A light metallic clinking sounded as Mari lifted her hand. In it she clutched the coin purse that the boy had delivered to her. “You sent a boy to deliver this?” She stepped toward him, extending her hand, and impulsively threw it at him. This caught Callum off guard. Only reflex allowed him to catch it as several coins fell onto the floor.
Confused, Callum opened his mouth, but Mari went on. “Have I become an errand you are too busy to attend to yourself?”
Callum’s eyes burned with anger. “I will answer your questions alone.” He directed a pointed glare to Alex, who looked first at Mari for her consent,
and then wordlessly left, followed by Charlie. When Duncan hesitated, Callum gripped his arm and looked pointedly at him. “You need not worry. I can take care of my wife.”
Duncan’s eyes flashed. “Aye, I have seen how you take care of your wife.”
Callum took a step closer, but stopped as Mari called out. “Callum, if you have something to say to me, say it now.”
The two men exchanged a look. Alex called Duncan’s name in a quiet, firm voice. Duncan glanced sharply at Alex but hesitated before turning from Callum, closing the cottage door firmly behind him.
Callum held out the pouch in his hands. “I didnae send this.”
Mari looked away as her indignant face melted to despair.
Misreading this as disbelief, Callum took a step toward her. “I didnae send it. Believe me or not, it is true. I have never lied to you. How can you think that I would begin now?” He braced himself for more doubt. Instead Mari turned back to face him. He wanted to sweep her into his arms, but resisted. “My father must have sent it. I dinnae think he meant any harm by it.”
“No, I am sure he was merely falling into old habits.”
Although she had spoken them softly, her words made him ache with the memories of such purses. He had brought some himself to his mother. How must she have felt to receive them from him?
Callum stepped closer. She stiffened, but he would not relent. He took both her hands in his and lifted them to his lips. Glancing up, he caught sight of a tear as it slid down her cheek. With tender hands, he brushed her tears away and kissed her cheek. With that, Mari gave in to his enclosing arms.
He said, “You’ll recall, this was your idea.”
She nodded, but would not lift her eyes to meet his.
“And a bloody awful one it was,” Callum added.
“Aye, but it’s the only way I can have at least part of you.”
“No, lass. We could pack up and say our goodbyes and leave it all behind us. I could go tell my father to call off the wedding and leave him to sort it all out.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “He would disinherit you.”