“Nay,” Broch answered quickly. “As I said, Iain is a wise laird. What good would it do to tell the king that which did nae cause him harm?”
“What will Iain do with the information? What punishment must she face for her treachery?”
“He will banish her from Dunvegan—secretly to only her and the few of us that ken—for a period of one year, but he will bring her to him first to tell her he will forget and forgive.”
Callum nodded. “’Tis a fair punishment, but if it were nae for me, where would she have gone?”
Broch smiled. “To the MacLean hold. Alex MacLean already offered.”
Callum smiled, feeling relieved to discover Iain MacLeod was an honorable and good man. He very much hoped they would someday be allies. It could depend, he knew, on the whims of the king. Or perhaps not…
“Does Iain have sway with the king?” Callum asked.
A slow, knowing smile stretched Broch’s lips. “Aye. More than anyone. If ye sway Iain to ye, the king will follow.”
“That is good to hear. I will speak with him of my matters with the king when I speak with him about Marsaili. She will, of course, come with me now, instead of going to the MacLean hold.”
“If Iain agrees,” Broch replied. “He is the one to give his blessing on yer union, if ye can get her to consent.”
“I’ll get her to consent,” Callum assured Broch, willing it to be so, willing Marsaili to recover fully. And hopefully, her brother would offer an alliance, but even if he did not, Callum would wed Marsaili and he would find a way to protect his clan.
After several attempts by Callum and Maria, they managed to rouse Marsaili enough to get her to take a few bites of the rabbit, but she was near delirious, mumbling about the bairn and moaning about how he was dead. Callum rocked her in his arms and whispered to her repeatedly that their son lived, though, he had no notion if he spoke the truth or not. He had to believe it. To consider that he—they—had a son they might possibly never know was unthinkable.
The chills hit Marsaili hard close to dawn, even with the fire they had built near to the blanket where Callum lay with Marsaili in his arms. Fear gnawed at him that the chills would make her worse, so he slipped under the plaid he had her swathed in and drew her against his bare chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and entangled his legs with hers. Slowly, she ceased trembling, and after a bit, her ice-cold hands, which had been pressed against his chest, slipped between his legs and she burrowed her forehead into his chest. Then she let out a long sigh, and her breathing became deep, even, and peaceful.
Shadows that he had not realized darkened his heart lifted, and he exhaled his own long sigh of contentment. She was meant for him. She always had been. He pressed his mouth to her forehead, giving silent thanks to God for bringing her back to him, for making him realize the futility of trying to forget her, and then he prayed for the right words to say to her brother to forge the alliance the Grants needed.
Callum’s other concern was Coira. He had told her very plainly that he wished to wed for the sake of an alliance, and while he knew the lass did not love him, he had seen how vulnerable she was. He was more than willing to let Coira tell the world she wanted to break their promise to wed, but he had no notion if that would be enough to soothe whatever hurt feelings she might have. He was going to have to talk to her privately, and that caused him unease because he didn’t want Marsaili to worry for a moment that he was moved to speak with Coira alone by anything other than guilt. It was with all these worries fighting for his attention, that he finally succumbed to sleep.
Fifteen
Marsaili awoke feeling as if she was lying in a cocoon of warmth. It was so very pleasant that it seemed near impossible to open her heavy eyelids. But she could sense the sunlight, and it beckoned her to wake completely. Her thoughts were muddled, but as they slowly started to clear, she remembered being put in a cage, the hunger, the sleeplessness, the pounding pain in her head that would not go away. Yet, the loudest memory, the one buzzing in her ears and burrowing into her heart to fill it with joy was that of Callum’s words. He’d said he would never leave her again and would die with her before leaving her. He’d said that he loved her.
She opened her eyes slowly and found herself staring at Callum’s bare chest, corded with muscle. He breathed evenly in her ear, still slumbering. She tried not to move. The task wasn’t too hard, given weakness seemed to permeate every part of her body. Her stomach growled, and her throat felt coated with gritty dirt, but despite the discomforts, a sense of peace and bliss filled her. She was in Callum’s arms! She swept her gaze up to his face. Even in sleep, he appeared as if concentrating on something. A frown line was prominent between his thick, dark brows. Was it her? Was it worry about his clan and what would happen with the Earl of Ainsworth should he break his promise to wed Coira? Was it worry over how the Gordons would retaliate since he had killed Robert? She shivered with the memory. She had no notion how Callum had managed to free them, but she knew he would tell her when he awoke, and she also knew she could not let go of him now.
God help her, she was too weak to release him from their love, from what they shared, but together, they would find a way. She would speak to Iain, beg his forgiveness, prove herself somehow to gain an alliance for Callum. Iain would soften.
And they would find their son! She could not think otherwise. The very tip of the idea made tears come to her eyes and slide down her cheeks. She wanted her son to have his father in his life, and she wanted Callum as hers, too. She had given herself to him completely, and no matter how inconvenient it was, their love could not be undone. Callum had not forsaken her. He’d thought her dead because her father had lied to his family.
“What’s this?” Callum’s finger brushed her cheek as the question rumbled from his chest. “Are ye in pain?”
She lifted her gaze to meet his brown one. “Nay. I feel fairly well, except weak, hungry, and well, worried. For ye, for me, for yer clan…for our child.”
His gaze darkened, and he squeezed her tight. “Lass,” he said, stroking her cheek and then cupping it in his large palm, “we will find a way. I love ye.”
“I love ye, too,” she replied, feeling better hearing him say that he too believed they would find a way. “Where are Broch and Maria?”
“They went to the stream earlier,” he said. “I imagine they are still there. I drifted to sleep, and when I awoke, ye were awake, and they were still gone. I believe they like each other.”
Marsaili’s eyes widened. “Ye’re certain?”
Callum nodded. “They’ve exchanged many a look. Mayhap they will stay at the stream for a spell,” he said with a wink.
She chuckled. “Ye are terrible.”
He grinned and brushed his thumb over her lips before pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth. “Nay. I just wish ye to myself for a moment. I-I’m nae one for flowery declarations, but—” He grabbed her hand and placed it over his heart, which thumped steady and hard under her fingertips. “From the first smile ye gave me, ye have had my devotion, and ye will have it until my last breath is taken. This I vow to ye.”
Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, but these were tears of happiness, of dreams she had lost and now once again seemed found. She took his hand, and as he had done seconds before, she placed his palm on her heart. Heat pooled low in her belly at the pressure of his hand on her. “Ye took my heart the first day I met ye, and though we were divided by lies, my heart did nae ever forget ye. I vow to ye now that, ye will forever be the only man who holds my heart and who I hold in mine.”
He parted her lips with a series of slow, feathery kisses that had a dreamlike quality to them and made her feel as if she were floating on a soft, wispy cloud. Under the blanket, his hand slid down her cheek, over her neck, then traced her collar bone and feathered to her breast where his fingers circled her bud in slow, languorous strokes. Her nipple firmed instantly under his touch, yanking a moan from her lips and a tormented groan from him. T
he sound of his need was a heady invitation to forget they were in the forest, that Broch and Maria were near, and almost that they were being hunted.
He must have had that same last thought because he broke their kiss as he brought his hands up to her face and cupped it. His dark gaze reflected the desire he kept under control as did the tic in his jaw. “I want ye, and if we were alone, I’d take ye, if ye wished it.”
“I’d wish it,” she replied, her voice a low, husky murmur. He released her face to pull her against the length of his body, and she felt his yearning for her, pressing low and hard against her belly. “What would ye wish to do to me?” she asked, teasing him as she had so long ago.
He grinned, and she knew then that he remembered her asking him that very same thing before she had consented to join with him at the time of the Gathering. “I would worship yer body until ye begged me to take ye, and then I would spread yer creamy thighs, plant myself in ye, and fill ye with my seed to make another bairn. But this bairn,” he said, placing a hand between them on her belly, “I would watch grow in ye day after day. I will ken the happiness of seeing my next son or daughter swell yer belly with life, and I will be there to protect ye, to dote on ye as yer body nurtures our child, and when the time comes for our bairn to enter the world, I will kneel beside ye and hold yer hand until the squalls of our bairn fill the world.”
A sob escaped her, and Callum swiped at the tears running down her face. “I thought,” she said through more sobs, “that ye said ye were nae good with flowery words.”
“I’m nae,” he replied with a shrug. “These words were in my heart, put there the moment I found out ye had our child, and I began to think upon all I had missed. I had to tell ye.”
She nodded and pressed her head to his chest. “I’m glad ye did. All the things ye said, I want, as well.” She looked up, worry suddenly overwhelming her. “Callum, did ye say those things about another bairn because ye fear we will nae find our son?”
A startled look crossed his face, and then he kissed her fiercely. “God, nay.” He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, and then her lips once more. “I will find him. I will rip apart Scotland to do so, if need be.” She sighed in relief. “When ye feel strong enough,” he said, “we will ride to Inverurie.”
“I feel strong enough now,” she replied, pushing away from him to sit up, but when a wave of nausea hit her, she clenched her teeth on a hiss.
He sat up beside her and slid his arm around her back, then tugged her against him. “Ye need to eat and quench yer thirst.”
She nodded. “But then,” she said, turning to meet his gaze, “we will ride.”
He studied her for a long moment, looking as if he might argue, but then he nodded. “I dunnae wish to tarry, either.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I saved rabbit for ye,” he said with a smile as he rose and fetched it along with some water. When he sat again, he offered her the rabbit one piece at time, cautioning her to eat slowly. When she was finished, he handed her the skin of water, and she drank her fill before lowering it.
She felt his gaze upon her, studying her. “What do ye wish to ask me?”
“Why did ye nae tell me we had a son when ye first had the opportunity?” he asked. “Why did ye nae come to me for aid in finding him?”
She glanced away, her stomach tightening with anxiety at all the terrible choices she had made because of fear. “When I learned of him, I feared telling ye because I believed ye dishonorable and that ye would take him from me if ye kenned of him. And then I learned Coira was barren, which increased my fear that ye would take our son to raise as yer heir. And when I saw ye were honorable, I still feared ye would take him as yer heir. I kenned ye needed to marry Coira for the alliance, and I ken well how men need heirs.”
“God’s teeth, lass, I am sorry for making ye doubt me.”
She took his hand and squeezed it. “I am sorry I doubted ye. I am sorry it took fearing I’d die to tell ye the truth.”
His tortured gaze impaled her. “I failed ye, and I failed my clan, but I will nae fail again. If I could have simply put ye out of my heart and my head and married Edina, my father would be alive, but I could nae do it. Nae even when my mother told me ye were dead. I felt dead, too, and could nae imagine ever giving to another what I had given to ye.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat at his admission. “Was yer mother angry at ye when yer father died?”
“Aye. She dunnae let me forget that it was my fault. So I must be careful how I break with Coira, but I will break the promise.”
Marsaili fidgeted. She did not like that Callum’s mother held her to blame for her husband’s death, but Marsaili did not see that anything could be done about it. “What of yer brother? How does he feel about yer father’s death? Does he blame ye? Do ye think they will both hate me?”
Callum tugged her close once more. “Dunnae fash yerself, aye? My mother will soften.”
“That dunnae answer my question fully. What of yer brother?”
“Oh, och. I forgot.” Callum smiled at her. “Ye will find a friend in him.”
“That’s comforting,” she said. There was so much they needed to say but simply not enough time. She thought of all she wanted to know, of all he might wish to know about her, but before she could ask any questions, he spoke.
“I will need to speak with Coira alone, ye ken.”
He sounded so uncomfortable that her initial surge of jealousy ebbed a bit. “I ken. Ye wish to try to avoid making another enemy.”
“Aye,” he said, looking utterly relieved. She realized then that he had been worried about how she would react, and his worry actually comforted her. It was good to know she was not the only jealous one. She supposed not having been around each other in three years and not having had much time together when they had fallen in love, it would take time to learn who they were now.
“I want ye to tell me everything about yer life from the moment I left ye,” he said, startling her out of her thoughts.
She gaped at him. It was as if he had known her thoughts! He squeezed her hand. “I ken that, though I fell in love with ye, there was much I did nae ken about ye, that I still dunnae ken. I did nae even ken ye had a half sister named Isobel.”
“I’ll tell ye all,” she promised him, feeling as if her heart would burst. She had imagined this very conversation after he had first left her so long ago, and she had considered the many things they had never had the time to discuss.
He helped her up as she started to talk, and as they gathered their things to depart, Broch and Maria finally returned from the brook. By the mussed, bemused expressions they both wore, as well as Maria’s swollen lips and flushed cheeks, it appeared her friend had found someone to help her forget her deceased husband and mayhap, with luck, someone to love.
Broch came straight to Marsaili and hugged her, but when they separated, she could see that he looked uneasy as if he had unpleasant news to deliver to her, but he did not wish to. Callum moved to her side and took her hand, and it was not Broch who spoke, but Callum. “Once we have our son, we will need to travel to Dunvegan Castle.”
Her stomach clenched at his words. She turned to him, ignoring Broch and Maria, who had approached Broch and taken his hand. “Callum, I must tell ye what I did,” she started. “I…ye may nae wish to have me once ye—”
“I already ken,” he cut in, squeezing her hand. “I would have done exactly the same thing had I been ye.” He said it so reassuringly and lovingly that her eyes blurred with tears once again, but she blinked them away. She’d done enough crying for one day.
“Ye dunnae think me dishonorable?” she asked.
“Nay,” he assured her. “I believe ye were desperate to save our son, and for that, I can nae ever feel ye are anything but meant for me.”
“Mayhap Iain will forgive me and offer ye an alliance,” she suggested hopefully.
“He will forgive ye,” Callum said in a gentle tone. He looked to Broch, and Broch nodded.
“What has he decided?” she asked, tension tightening her stomach. She knew her half brother to be fair, but she also understood what a terrible thing she had done.
“He will banish ye from Dunvegan for one year,” Broch said. The tension seemed to spread to her chest.
“But,” Callum said, “he had planned to send ye to the MacLean hold to live with them.”
“Had planned?” she asked with a frown.
He nodded. “Ye will, of course, live with me now.” He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but when his gaze flicked from Maria to Broch and back to Marsaili, she understood that whatever he wanted to say would wait until they were alone.
Warmth and love filled her. “Will I now?” she teased, feeling much lighter than seconds before.
“Aye, ye will,” he replied, his tone unbending, making her aware he would not have taken no for an answer, not that she would have refused. “It is my hope that yer brother might offer an alliance, but even if he does nae, ye and I will nae be parted again. Together, we will face whatever may come.”
She smiled. “Aye. Together.”
Sixteen
Fires blazed toward the heavens from the valley where the Summer Walkers were known to dwell, and fear lodged itself in Callum’s heart. He and Broch exchanged a look, and then they both drew their swords.
“My God,” Marsaili said from her perch in front of Callum on his destrier. “It appears as if the entire valley is burning!”
Though the sun was now high in the sky, Callum could no longer see it, for the smoke that rose from the valley was thick and gray. He slowed his horse to a stop. “Marsaili, I want ye to wait here.”
She twisted around to look at him. “Nay! Ye said we would face our problems together.”
“Aye, I did, but we dunnae ken what has occurred below. I dunnae think it can be peaceful, given the fires. I want to keep ye safe.”
She placed a hand on his cheek. “And I love ye for that and so much more.” Hearing her say she loved him made his chest squeeze warmly. “But I’ll nae let ye ride into possible danger alone, and if ye try to leave me here”—she tilted her chin up defiantly—“I’ll just follow.”
When a Scot Gives His Heart Page 19