Once their breathing had calmed, Callum felt his need for her rising once again, but he hesitated. They had been through much, and he did not want to tire her, or if she was sore, he did not want her to feel she must acquiesce, but she turned into him suddenly and placed her hand on his hard staff.
“And now the slow,” she whispered, nipping his ear, kissing his neck, and trailing her lips down his abdomen to between his thighs. And then she gave to him, and in return, he gave all of himself to her well into the night, then longer still until dawn, when they both fell into a weary sleep.
Hours later, they were awoken by Marion knocking on the door. Marsaili answered it, and a moment later, Brody waddled into the room to announce that he was hungry. They dressed and made their way to the great hall to break their fast before traveling on to his home. The great hall was mostly empty, as they had risen late, but as they finished eating, Broch and Maria entered. They approached the table, hand in hand.
Callum was pleased, and he could see that Marsaili was, too, by the way she grinned. He cocked his eyebrows at Broch, who shrugged as if to say he was not quite sure where things would lead with Maria but that he was pleased. “We wish to travel with ye to yer home so Maria can see her sister.”
“Yer sister?” Callum asked, startled.
“Aye,” Maria said. “She is married to a Grant, and when Marsaili and I escaped Innis Chonnell, I was traveling to Urquhart to ask to become part of yer clan.”
Callum smiled. “We would welcome ye as an addition, if—” he glanced at Broch “—that is what ye wish.”
“We shall see,” Maria said, her gaze sliding toward Broch, a blush tingeing her cheeks.
Later that day, they departed for Callum’s home with full bags of food and a contingency of MacLeod warriors. The journey was peaceful, and it gave Callum time to truly contemplate what he had known for years. He had wanted a marriage born of affection, and now he would have one. He had given his love to Marsaili three years prior, as she had given him his, and once that had occurred, their love would not be denied for anything—not alliances, nor treachery, nor promises offered to another. He would do his best to fix the situation with Coira, but in the end, his most important task in life was to love Marsaili and Brody, and protect them with his life.
They rode into the inner courtyard of his castle at nightfall. His brother was there, along with at least a hundred of Callum’s warriors. Cheers went up when he dismounted his horse. He glanced around the courtyard, noting his mother’s absence, as well as those of Coira and her father. He wanted to draw Marsaili to his side, but he did not want to shame Coira and make things worse. He turned to Marsaili, and when he saw her looking so unsure, so anxious while she clutched their son, he thought he would lose his mind.
He reached out for Brody, eager to tell his brother about him, but at that moment, his mother came into the courtyard with Coira trailing behind her. Shock swept over his mother’s face when she saw Marsaili, and Marsaili stepped away from him, holding Brody to her chest. Behind her, the MacLeod guards, led by Broch, closed in toward her. Callum clenched his teeth in frustration that Broch thought he needed to protect Marsaili in Callum’s home. This had to be settled at once.
“Mother, take Marsaili and—”
“My son,” she interrupted. “This is my son, Brody.” She gave Callum a beseeching look. Knowing Marsaili and her kind heart as he did, he suspected she was considering Coira and how learning everything here and now in public would embarrass the lass. He nodded his acquiescence, though he despised not telling everyone of Marsaili and Brody directly.
His mother puckered her lips. “I dunnae ken why she is here, but I’ll nae—”
“If ye dunnae do as I tell ye,” Callum said, pitching his voice low so his clansmen would not overhear, “I will set ye out of my home and forget ye exist.”
“Callum!”
“Now, Mother,” he said. “Show Marsaili to a bedchamber and see that she has anything she requires.”
After a long tense pause, his mother jerked her head in agreement, and with a huff, she motioned for Marsaili to follow her. Callum watched as Marsaili disappeared into his castle with their son in her arms, and then he turned to face his brother and Coira.
“How fares the castle?” he asked Brice.
“Well, Brother,” Brice answered. “We have been attacked twice, but the men fought well and we were nae breached.”
Callum nodded, having much to talk with Brice about but needing to settle matters with Coira first. “See me in the great hall before supper,” he said to Brice. He expected his brother to depart, but when Brice stood there looking uneasy, Callum frowned. “Was there something else?” He noted that Brice exchanged a quick look with Coira before he answered.
“Aye,” his brother said. “I—” Coira nudged Brice, surprising Callum. “That is, we”—he motioned between himself and Coira—“wish to speak with ye alone.”
“Verra well,” Callum said. He could only imagine what sort of things his brother might have done in an attempt to aid Callum. He prayed to God it was nothing that would further complicate matters.
They went directly to the solar, and once the door was shut and Callum turned to Brice and Coira, Brice blurted, “We are in love.”
Callum could only gape at them.
Coira twisted her hands in front of her. “I’m sorry, Callum. I could not resist. You don’t love me,” she said softly, “and I don’t love you. I have spoken with my father. He had to return home, for my mother took ill, but he has agreed to my wedding Brice, if you will allow it. And he wishes to remain allies, if you will have us. I beg you—”
Callum waved a hand, recovering from being shocked by the news, but then suspicion set in. “Brice, what is this?”
“It is nae as ye think. I admit I tried to seduce her to disembroil ye from yer promise to wed her, but I fell in love with her. Ye dunnae love her, Brother, but I do. And ye brought Marsaili back with ye, so surely…”
“I know about the lass,” Coira said. “Brice—” she gave him an adoring look “—told me everything. I wish you all the happiness.”
“As do I,” Brice added. “Did ye ken she had a bairn, though? Whose boy is it?”
“Mine,” Callum announced with so much pride he thought his chest would burst. “The boy, Brody, is mine. She thought he had died at birth. ’Tis a long story.”
Brice grabbed Callum by the arm and hugged him. “Sit and tell us. There is time. Give Mother and Marsaili a chance to come to ken each other.”
A thought struck him. “Does Mother ken about ye and Coira?”
“Nay!” Brice answered.
“We have kept it secret to all but my father,” Coira said in an assuring tone that amused him given his own situation.
“I thank ye, lass,” he replied.
“Do we have yer blessing?” Brice asked, clearly anxious.
“Aye, aye,” he assured them both. The look they gave each other eased the last of Callum’s concern. It seemed all had somehow resolved itself.
“Tell us of the boy,” Brice encouraged.
“I will,” Callum said, “but let me tell Marsaili about this first. It will ease her greatly.”
Brice and Coira smiled. “We’ll await yer return here,” Brice said.
Callum nodded, departed the solar, and went to find Marsaili. He found her in one of the guest bedchambers with Brody. The door was open, and for a moment, he stood there watching her with his son. His heart was full. When she finally glanced up, he walked wordlessly to her, dropped to his knees in front of her, and told her of Brice and Coira. She was so relieved that tears filled her eyes. He cupped her face in his hands, and with their son between them, he kissed her tenderly.
When he pulled back, he started to sit beside her, but she shook her head. “Nay. Leave me time with yer mother so we can learn each other.”
“Ye’re certain?”
Marsaili nodded. “Ye can speak with her later and tell her ever
ything, but nae here with me looking on.”
“As ye wish, mo chridhe. Brice and Coira did want to hear about Brody…”
Marsaili laughed. “Away with ye, then. I will see ye soon.”
Twenty-One
When Callum’s mother returned to the bedchamber after retrieving a refreshment for Brody, she greeted Marsaili with such a warm smile that Marsaili was immediately suspicious. She berated herself for feeling that way, though, as she had to learn that not everyone was out to harm her or use her, even if her own family had been.
Callum’s mother carried a tray with a goblet of wine and a repast of cheese and bread. She strolled into the room, shutting the door behind her with her foot. She skirted around Brody without so much as a glance, and then she set the tray on a table and brought Marsaili the goblet. Lorna thrust it toward her. “Drink. Ye must be parched.”
“Thank ye,” Marsaili said, taking the goblet. She was thirsty, but as she brought the goblet to her mouth to drink, an odd scent wafted toward her. Frowning, she inhaled deeply, her gut clenching at the faint rank smell. She sniffed again, noticing that Callum’s mother was watching her carefully. Marsaili had a vague memory of Maria once showing her the deadly berries of the poisonous nightshade, and she would swear it smelled like this. She lowered the goblet, her heart pounding, and moved to put herself between Brody and Callum’s mother. But as she did so, Callum’s mother withdrew a long dagger with a sigh.
“I was hoping,” she said, pointing the dagger at Marsaili, “that this would nae be difficult nor messy.”
Marsaili’s blood roared as she set the goblet down, not taking her eyes off Lorna. “Were ye intending to poison me with nightshade?” she asked, feeling almost numb with shock.
“Aye,” the woman said, nicking Marsaili’s chest with the tip of the dagger. “I tried to let ye live, and that was my mistake. I paid good coin to have that Black Mercenary take ye away.”
Marsaili gasped. “Ye hired Lucan?”
Callum’s mother nodded. “Aye. Did ye escape him, or did he simply take my coin?”
“Neither. Callum rescued me.”
“Callum is a fool,” his mother hissed. “He would throw away another good alliance for ye, and ye did nae ever even want him! Ye chose the Earl of Ulster!”
Marsaili frowned. “I did nae do such a thing. Ye were misled by my father, I’m certain,” she said, her palms sweating as she glanced toward the door, praying Callum would return, even though she had told him to give her time. She darted her gaze to Brody, who thankfully was playing by the window and seemed oblivious to what was occurring. She feared what would happen if she did not keep Callum’s mother talking, though. Her mind raced through what Callum had told her. His mother had told him that Marsaili had died, and Marsaili had assumed that her father had lied and told Lorna that was the case, but maybe Marsaili had it wrong.
“Did my father tell ye that I chose the Earl of Ulster over Callum?”
“Aye. So dunnae try to deny it. Ye bewitched my son!” she hissed. “Callum went to visit Edina and then to yer father’s castle for the Gathering, and when he returned, he had broken his vow to wed Edina and refused to mend the breach because of ye!”
“Callum broke his vow to wed Edina before he ever met me,” Marsaili said as calmly as she could.
“Lies! He tried to tell us the same ones, but I kenned better. He was obedient until he met ye! Ye were going to ruin everything, and ye did nae even want him!”
“Nay!” Marsaili shook her head. “I loved him! I love him still!”
“Dunnae lie to me. I wrote to yer father when Callum refused to wed Edina. I offered him an alliance and told him that Callum wished to wed ye. He wrote back and refused the alliance. He said ye would never wed the likes of Callum, and that ye chose the Earl of Ulster over my son.”
Marsaili gasped. “That is nae true! He lied to ye!”
“Even when he thought ye dead, he would nae forget ye,” Lorna continued, as if she had not heard Marsaili or simply did not care what she had said. His mother’s face was mottled red, and her eyes bulged. “Ye must leave! He is to marry Coira, and I will get the coin her father had vowed to give me. The Grant clan will be strong again. Everything I do is for my son and our clan, and yer presence threatens to destroy it all.”
“Oh, dunnae fash yerself,” Marsaili said and reached down to pick up Brody. “We will leave immediately!”
When she rose, Callum’s mother had the dagger in one hand and the wine goblet in the other. “Ye must die. ’Tis the only way. Drink the wine, or I’ll kill yer son.”
Marsaili found her voice with difficulty. “Then ye will murder yer grandson.”
Callum’s mother gasped and glanced at Brody. “Nay!”
“Aye,” Marsaili said. “Brody is yer grandson. He is Callum’s son.”
When the door to the solar slung open with such force the hinges rattled, both Callum and Brice gained their feet and withdrew their swords. Broch strode into the room, fairly dragging a blond-headed man behind him. “This Black Mercenary was caught on the stairs slipping up to the bedchambers.” Broch’s gaze fell to Callum as Broch shoved the Black Mercenary forward and then to his knees. He jerked the man’s head back, and only then did Callum see Broch had given him a beating in the face.
“He did nae wish to tell me why he was at the castle, so I had to be persuasive,” Broch said simply.
Callum glared down at the man, anger beating in his breast. “And what say he?”
“That yer mother hired him to come seize a woman.”
“Marsaili!” Callum cried out, something clicking in his mind. He shoved the Black Mercenary away and raced for the stairs with Brice close behind. Taking the stairs three at a time, he thought on how Lucan could have possibly entered the castle when he had come here. There had been no explanation, but now there was. His mother wanted Marsaili out of his life, and apparently, she would do anything to achieve her goal.
Callum reached the top of the stairs, and as he turned the corner toward the bedchambers, he heard a scream. He thundered down the hall, praying he was not too late. He kicked open the door to the bedchamber and came to a shuddering halt. His mother held his son, and she was crying. Marsaili stood in front of her, white as snow except for her knuckles, which had pinked around the edges from her grip on the dagger that she had pointed at his mother.
He closed the distance between himself and his mother, and took his son from her. She did not try to stop him but wept openly, as he had only seen her do when his father had died.
“I’m sorry,” she said, turning her tearstained face to Callum. “Everything I did, I did for ye and for our clan. I would nae kill yer son, though. Nae ever that. I would nae ever harm my own flesh and blood.”
He placed a protective hand over one of Brody’s ears and pressed the other side of his son’s head into his chest. “What have ye done, Mother? God’s blood, what have ye done?”
She crumpled to the ground as the words poured out of her, and he stood with his brother and Marsaili by his side and listened to her tale. Rage filled him, then disbelief, and then great, overwhelming sorrow. It was his own mother who had lied to him and told him Marsaili was dead, not the Campbell. The Campbell had shamed her with his response, and he had said Marsaili had wanted to wed Ulster but his mother had concocted the lie that Marsaili had died. She wanted him to forget Marsaili and marry Edina.
After a long while, his mother fell silent, and Callum and Brice looked at each other, as Marsaili leaned against Callum. The betrayal was deep and painful, and he could only imagine what Marsaili was feeling.
“Will ye put me to death, then?” his mother sobbed.
As he and Brice stared at each other, Marsaili answered. “Nay, of course nae. Ye are his mother.”
Marsaili’s capacity to forgive amazed him. He did not have the same ability. “Ye kinnae stay here, Mother.”
“Aye,” Brice agreed. “We will send ye to Aunt Claret’s.”
“To the heathens?” their mother gasped, referring to the MacKenzies, the clan to which their aunt’s husband belonged. He was a poor man, and their mother would have no status, just as she deserved.
“Aye,” Callum replied. “Yer greed is why ye did what ye did, nae love, nae a desire to simply make us strong. Ye kinnae stay here after such a betrayal to me, nor after trying to kill my future wife.”
He saw Marsaili visibly relax, even as his mother’s jaw gaped open, and he realized Marsaili had been worried. It was going to take some time for her to understand that she came first to him, but he would make certain that she knew it eventually. “Take her to the dungeon,” Callum told Brice.
“The dungeon!” his mother screamed. “Brice, nay! Surely ye dunnae agree.”
“Actually, I do,” Brice assured her. “Completely.”
Callum turned to Marsaili as Brice half dragged their mother out of the room screaming. He lowered his hand from Brody’s ear and set his wiggling son down. He sighed. “I dunnae ken what to say. I wish I could say I will ken if ye wish to leave me, but I will nae. And I’d come after ye. I love ye. I’m selfish. I dunnae have an excuse for what my mother has done—”
Marsaili pressed a finger to his mouth. “I dunnae have excuses for all that my father has done, nor for what my Campbell brothers and sister did. We are nae our parents or our siblings.” She cupped his face. “There is ye, and me, and Brody. What we have is true and pure, and we will build a good life.”
“Together,” he agreed, kissing her full on the mouth as Brody stood with his arms wrapped around his father’s leg and squealed at them in glee.
A sennight later, Marsaili stood by Callum’s side in the courtyard of Urquhart Castle as his wife. They were surrounded by her brothers and their wives, including her half sisters Isobel and Lena, and Lena’s husband, Alex. One by one, Iain’s men knelt before Callum, pledging their allegiance to him as Iain had. Then, to her great surprise, a contingency of Alex’s men and her brother Graham’s men did the same. As the last man was about to give his pledge, the horn announcing an approaching enemy sounded.
When a Scot Gives His Heart Page 24