by Annis, Dawn
“My hands will no keep from shakin’,” Fiona spoke quietly to Callum.
“’Tis all right.” Callum took his mother’s hand in his own to steady her.
With Callum help, Fiona placed the wooden plate on her husband’s chest. On the plate, she put a handful of soil and intoned, “The body will decay and become one with the earth.” She added a handful of salt. “With the salt, the soul will no decay.” She kissed the cheek of her husband one last time, saying a final goodbye. She staggered back and dropped into the chair where she’d held vigilance.
Next came Lettie. She, too, kissed her father and said a soft prayer of peace. Callum bowed his head and gazed upon the face of the man he’d loved and fought with. Because of his dream, he believed his father had forgiven him.
With the help of Hadrian, Callum lifted the lid of the casket, and they set it in place. Several of the clansmen carried the casket out to a waiting cart. Michael steadied the horse while they slid the coffin inside.
The task finished, Callum retrieved his mother. The crowd followed behind the horse and cart led by Michael. The MacCrimmon clan came in behind the procession, piping a song of sorrow from Dunvegan to the narrow channel running between the Isle of Skye and the Isle of Harris.
The MacLeods had a long tradition of being buried on the small isle. Callum, with his mother and sister in hand, followed close. Next came the MacNichol clan. The remaining mourners trailed behind.
Reaching the shore, Callum helped his mother climb the wooden plank to the waiting boat.
Thea put Lettie’s hand in his.
She peered at Callum. “D’ye have her?”
“I do.”
“Lettie, sweetheart, ’twill soon be done. Let Callum help ye. I will be right beside ye the entire way.”
Once his sister was settled, Callum reached for Thea. She grabbed his hand while she climbed the plank into the boat. Thea met his eyes. Compassion and her own heartache at his father’s passing glistened in their depths, the sympathy she had for him and his family touching him.
Callum ordered the boats underway, and using the ferry systems that had long been in place, the group crossed the channel. Reaching the other side, the procession continued to St. Clément’s church for the services and burial.
The small stone church served as the burial tomb for the chiefs of the MacLeod clan. Its magnificent carvings declared the life and dedication to God of each chief. Along one wall, four angels circled above the Virgin Mary. A relief of a successful hunting party outside Dunvegan graced another.
Sitting in the pew, Callum patted his mother’s knee and offered his hand. She took it.
The prayers were said, the hymns sung. The men of the clan placed the casket in the tomb. With a final prayer and his family and friends surrounding him, the MacLeod was laid to rest.
The group crossed the channel once again and entered Dunvegan castle for the wake. Each took a turn sharing their stories of the old laird and their fondness for him.
“Mind the MacLeod caught me stealin’ a pig.” One of the MacNichol clansmen sat down next to Callum. “Said, ‘We dinna steal from our own. Why d’ye need that pig?’ I told him ’twas a lark. The lads had dared me. Well, let me tell ye, he thrashed me good, and I had to muck out stables for a month.” He and Callum chuckled. “When I had finished the job, he took me aside and scolded, ‘Dinna let no man talk ye into wrong. Be yer own man with yer own morals.’ I havena forgotten what he said.” The man slapped the table. “He dinna tell my da. Told me he would keep it between us. Said it would teach me honor.” The man gazed at the floor. He raised his head and eyeballed Callum. “And it did. It surely did.” He shook Callum’s hand, drained his mug, and tottered away. Callum picked up his empty mug with a wry smile.
The priest quieted the crowd and beckoned Callum to stand. The time had come.
I could walk awa’. Desert my mother and sister. Do the same to the clans.
“With the brooch handed down from laird to laird, I pronounce to the land ye are the MacLeod.”
The priest gave Callum the title of the MacLeod, Laird and Chief of the Clan MacLeod and the clan septs, MacNichol and MacCrimmon.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Callum took in a deep breath. “I accept the honor ye have placed before me. I canna hope to fill my da’s shoes as they were much bigger than mine.”
The crowd laughed at the joke. His mother and sister at his side joined in the laughter, and he was glad to see them smile. Callum had done the expected.
“I have been awa’ for some time, but rest assured my da taught me well. I am confident I can meet the challenge. His death has been hard for us all. I ken ye will miss his strength and carin’, as I will. With yer help, we will manage and even prosper.”
Callum sat down as the crowd applauded their approval. A short speech was better, his acceptance of the position now done. The task of the burial and the passing of the torch was finished. It was time to celebrate the life of their old laird as well as the life of their new one. He missed his father.
People gathered around the tables heavy with food. The younger men found the kegs of wine and mead. Callum sat with his mother and sister and ate his meal, their sorrow evident, but here was the Scots way. They celebrate death with life.
The conversation around him was punctuated with lively laughter. The ladies of the group gathered up his mother, and soon they sat in a huddle at the far end of the hall. Thea walked up to claim Lettie.
“Lettie, dear, let us go find the other lasses. See if we canna get into a bit o’ trouble.” Thea winked at Callum. “My lord, might I take yer sister to join the celebration?”
Callum stared at Thea for a moment. Her calling him ‘my lord’ caught him off guard. He found his voice and cautioned, “Nay, no too much trouble.”
Thea gave him a brilliant smile.
The women moved through the crowd. Callum appreciated the subtle curve of Thea’s waist, the gentle sway of her hips, and the fascinating length of her long legs as she sauntered away from him. He remembered his brief glimpse of those legs. He liked the way she moved, from the tilt of her head to the shape of her gently rounded shoulders. He observed as she, in animate conversation, gestured with her hands, emphasizing whatever point she was making. She had his attention.
The hall was brightly lit with large candelabras hanging from the ceiling. Young men moved the tables in the eating area and placed them against the walls, leaving room for a makeshift dance floor. The pipers finished their meal and began playing a spirited tune on the bagpipes. Soon the dancers filled the area. When the dancing began in earnest, Callum was claimed by a pretty lass. He laughed and danced and took time to talk to the men of the clans. Every so often a brief ache for his father clenched his heart.
Anthol waved Callum over to sit with him. Callum excused himself, saying he needed to catch his breath and joined the old man sitting off to the side. They watched the festivities around them.
“I mind the lad ye had been. I liked ye and ken ye would be a fine laird. I was disappointed ye decided to go yer own way. I wasna pleased at the pain I saw on yer da’s face when he come to tell me ye were gone.”
Anthol studied the floor then raised his head and regarded Callum. “Yet, ye come home when ye were needed, and it says somethin’ about ye. I ken ye made yer fortune and havena depended on yer da. For yer success I’m impressed. ’Tis good to ken ye are yer own man.” The MacNichol took a drink and studied his tankard for a moment. “I wonder about yer commitment now.”
Callum stayed silent, his mind working. The two men watched the crowd. A few of the MacCrimmon men joined them. Hadrian strolled to the table and sat next to Callum, Michael beside him.
“Rumors and stories have made their way to us over the years. We are no as remote as ye may think we are. I have
heard tales o’ yer life in England. I must say they were no flatterin’ to ye. I hear ye made yer livin’ at the card tables, but it can be forgiven. The women canna.” Anthol took another drink.
Callum caught sight of Thea standing to the side, for once not out on the floor dancing.
“Nay, things ye heard o’ my life are just that, rumors,” Callum lied.
Callum stood in front of the group of men. He considered his options. He could tell the truth and face their disappointment, and possible anger. The disappointment Callum carried within himself nearly overwhelmed him. He could read their questions in their eyes. A thought occurred to Callum, and he focused on Anthol.
“I canna sooth yer fears any more than I can make the sun rise on the eve. I tell ye I wouldna o’ come if I kent I couldna do what is required o’ me. As for the lassies, I havena taken an innocent to my bed.”
He stood with his hands on his hips and gave a curt nod to each man. Receiving their acknowledgements, he moved away. But Anthol MacNichol would not let it go. Callum turned to find the old man following him. Callum faced him, ready for a confrontation.
“MacNichol, I ken ye to be concerned about my abilities and—”
“I ken yer abilities,” Anthol declared. “Yer da taught ye well. ’Tis whether yer willin’ or no. ’Tis my worry.”
Callum searched the man’s eyes and saw his worry. Was he willing? The more time passed, the deeper he got.
“Would it be agreeable to ye if we met? Mayhap ye would be so kind to tell me about the clans and some o’ things I have missed while I was awa’.”
“I would gladly agree to it, MacLeod,” Anthol said, using Callum’s title for the first time. “We have enjoyed steady good fortune, and for the most part, we havena real hardships, but there are always problems needin’ taken care o’ on a daily basis. Spend a few days with yer maw, then ride over when ye can. There are none so pressin’ that they canna wait a day or two.”
“I thank ye. I plan on meetin’ with the MacCrimmon as well.”
“’Tis a good idea to get the lay o’ the land,” Anthol agreed.
”’Tis indeed.” Callum returned to his mother, fetching her food and drink.
“Dinna sit with an auld woman such as me. I am bonnie. Go dance with a lass. Enjoy tonight. Ye have been crowned MacLeod.”
“Are ye sure ye are all right?”
“I am fine. Go on now.” Fiona shooed Callum along.
Callum searched for Thea. He spotted her with a group of young people. Her eyes sparkled with the excitement of the night. He strode over to her.
“Would ye care to dance the next one with me?” Callum asked.
“Why o’ course, my lord.” She gave a slight curtsey.
They joined hands and danced out onto the floor to a quick-paced song. He enjoyed having her in his arms, but he was well aware of her family’s eyes on him.
He had danced with his share of women in the past, some before he left home, others in English ballrooms. None had captured his attention with a simple dance as she did. She intrigued him. Yet he had lied to her father. In a sense, he was lying to her, too. Would he be around to take part in this way of life, or would he return to England and leave a broken heart behind, proving her father right?
~ ~ ~
Thea was enjoying herself immensely. She watched Callum as they danced, his gray eyes alight in his handsome face. A lock of brown hair fell across his forehead as they kept time with the music. Her heart fluttered. She wondered about touching his lips with her own. Would they be as soft as she imagined? She shook herself; she shouldn’t be thinking about his lips. She barely knew the man. Why would she be concerned with his wide shoulders, his firm thighs?
Och, shite. Focus on what yer doin’. Otherwise ye are liable to trip, and then where will ye be? Ye will be flat on yer arse. ’Twill no impress him.
The song finished.
“It has been years since I have danced a strathspey. It has brought forth many memories.” Callum’s eyes twinkled.
Thea smiled, trying to catch her breath. “’Tis a particularly lively jig.” They inched through the crowd to a table filled with food and drink.
“What would ye care for?”
“Wine, I think. Thank ye,” Thea replied, her breath slowing.
Callum poured two cups of wine and handed one to Thea.
“Thank ye for the lovely dance.” Thea waved a hand in front of her face to fan away the heat.
“’Twas my pleasure, I assure ye. Mayhap the occasion will warrant another before the night is through.”
Regarding her over his cup, Callum sipped his wine. Thea’s heart beat faster at the sight of him.
“Ye can count on it, my lord.” Thea smiled and took a sip of her own.
They were separated by Geoffrey and some ladies coming off the dance floor. The next song had ended and people pushed to get to the food and drink.
John stood at the end of the table, glaring at her. She moved toward him, hindered by the crowd. He was gone when she reached the spot where he’d stood. Guilt washed over her. She was smitten, and while her thoughts should have been on John, she was thinking of Callum.
Callum claimed two more dances with her before the night ended.
As Callum spinned her into his arms, Thea noticed her father and her brothers watching him closely. Earlier, she had seen Callum standing before them. They’d been speaking in low voices. She wondered if one had to do with the other.
~ ~ ~
After they had seen their guests off, Callum and his mother drifted into the castle. Lettie stood from her chair where she had slumped. She yawned. “I believe I shall go to my chambers and sleep for a fortnight. The day has been long.” Lettie kissed her mother’s cheek. She embraced her brother. “I am glad yer home.”
Callum hugged her back. “I am as well.”
He offered the wine bottle to his mother after Lettie climbed the stair. “D’ye care for another sip o’ wine before ye follow Lettie?”
“Aye. I am always willin’ to sit and talk with my son.”
Callum handed her a cup and took one for himself. They sat down and watched a few women milling around starting to clean up from the festivities but with little enthusiasm.
“I saw ye dancin’ with Thea. She is a sweet lass.”
“I enjoyed her verra much. She is full o’ energy and life,” Callum said. He sipped his wine.
“She is. I feared for her growin’ up without a maw, but her da has done well.”
“Her brothers are protective.”
“Aye, they watch over her with a close eye.”
“Seems so.” Callum shifted in his seat and surveyed the remnants of the party.
“’Twas good to see everyone agin. I spent some time with Hadrian and the others. Timothy is full o’ jokes as always. Even Michael seemed to talk more than usual.” Callum examined the floor in thought. “I spoke to the MacCrimmon and the MacNichol. We have agreed to meet so I may learn what is happenin’ with the clans.”
“’Tis good, lad. ’Twill take time to learn all there is to ken. But ye will catch on fast, I havena doubt.”
Callum looked at his mother. “I dinna want to disappoint ye as I did Da.”
“His disappointment was no in ye but in yer desire to leave. There is a difference. He strived for what he thought best for ye and the clan, that was all. He hoped for ye to be happy. He dinna understand but he always wanted to hear about ye. I read him yer letters. He was proud ye had made yer own way.”
“He dinna ever write to me as ye had done.”
“Well, he wouldna, would he?”
“Nay, I dinna suppose he would.”
Fiona patted her son’s cheek. “He was a man with a man’s pride.” She stood. “I watched y
e speak with the MacNichol. Seemed to be serious.”
They ambled across the hall and up the stairs arm in arm.
“Dinna worry. A few words that needed to be spoken, nothin’ more.” Callum stopped at the door of his mother’s chambers.
“Goodnight, Maw.” He took her hand to his chest and kissed her cheek. “Sleep well.”
“Goodnight to yerself.”
Chapter 5
Thea stared out her window, her mind on Callum. The charm he displayed during the evening made her giddy. Long after the members of the household had found their slumber, Thea was unable to find her own. Gazing at the stars, she thought about the way Callum moved. Butterflies crawled up her spine, tickling as they climbed.
He tilted his head when he spoke, his voice deep in timbre. His hands were large, his fingers long. They moved gracefully when he reached for her. Thea’s stomach fluttered when she remembered his arms around her, arms so strong they could have crushed her, yet held her as if she were fragile porcelain. His touch had been so gentle, moving along her back as they danced. Thea’s mind raced with musings of what it would be like to be surrounded by his arms at night with his sweet breath on her neck, those gentle hands running through her hair, his low voice whispering promises and words of love. Sleep was elusive. When morning came and she joined her family to break her fast, her eyes were gritty and puffy.
“So, the pigs took over the hall last night while we were gone and now, we have pork as our sovereign.”
“Huh,” Thea said, bringing her thoughts back to the hall.
“I kent ye dinna hear me.” Timothy chuckled as he loaded his plate with food. “Where are yer thoughts this fine day?”
“With the MacLeod, I would wager,” Simon growled as he sat at the table across from them. He filled his plate with slices of steak and roasted vegetables. “Look at her. The lass is all moon-eyed.”