In her time at Achnasheen, she'd come to admire Callum. At this moment, she realized he was the most remarkable man she'd ever met.
The glorious truth was this remarkable man was hers.
If she could manage to keep him safe from her kin’s malice.
A couple of hours ago, the Drummonds had set up camp on the flat ground, newly cleared of any vegetation they could use for cover or fuel, before the castle. Her father had just sent an ultimatum. Callum must return Mhairi to her family or await the consequences.
"The keep’s never been taken, and we’re well provisioned, Mackinnon," Brian said from where he stood near the blazing hearth. "We could sit it out."
Mhairi had been shocked when she learned one of her father's personal guards was in fact a Mackinnon spy. Brian had looked uncomfortable when she walked into the solar holding the Mackinnon’s arm.
"The Drummond has brought his cannons," Callum said sharply. "How long do ye think we can withstand artillery?"
"We've got cannons, too," Duff said from where he leaned against the opposite windowsill.
"Aye, and all that means is that even more men will die."
"Drummonds," Duff said.
"Ye forget my wife is a Drummond, Duff," Callum said coldly. "And that makes me one, too, by marriage."
Duff shot her a quick apologetic glance. "Your pardon, my lady."
"The only solution is for me to go to William Drummond under a flag of parley and try and talk him into seeing reason," Callum said.
This was what they'd been arguing about since the Drummond messenger had delivered her father's demand. By now, Mhairi was ready to slam her husband’s handsome dark head against the wall to beat some sense into him.
"He willnae listen, Callum," she said. "For the love of heaven, pay heed to what I say. I know him better than anyone. He's convinced himself you're the devil incarnate and murdering ye is the best thing no’ only for William Drummond, but for the world in general."
"If he breaks the rules of parley, his name will be disgraced throughout the Highlands. I’ll be there as a herald. He's honor-bound to see I return safely to Achnasheen."
"Ye stole his dearest treasure, and he wants revenge," she said acidly. "He willnae give a fig for the conventions of warfare. If he gets his hands on ye, you willnae come back alive. Send someone else to offer your terms."
"He willnae give anyone else an ounce of regard—or respect. And letters are a waste of time. I’ve tried writing to him before. He just ignores the messages. If I take the unprecedented step of bearding him in his den, it might shock him into changing his mind."
"Or it might give him the chance to get out his claymore and cut off your head. I dinnae want to be a widow. I've only just come to terms with being a wife."
"Mackinnon, I wouldnae give a farthing for your chances in the Drummond camp," Duff said. "Let me go. If someone sticks a dirk between my ribs, the clan only loses a one-eyed wreck."
"And a loyal friend, no’ to mention the best strategic brain in Achnasheen." Callum summoned a smile and clapped his friend on the back. "No, this is something only I can do."
Callum's doggedness shouldn't come as any surprise. Hadn’t Mhairi slammed herself against his obduracy over and over again when he'd first stolen her?
But she hadn't cared for him then. She hadn't laughed and quarreled with him. She hadn't wed him. She hadn't welcomed him into her body.
The great, gallant loon acted as if he was immortal, as though the rest of the world shared his calm good sense. When she was agonizingly aware of how easy it would be for her father to snuff out the bright flame of his life.
Mhairi stared in a fury of frustration across to where he stood, straight and strong and sure of himself. She rose and marched up to her husband. "If you're going, so am I."
"What the devil idiocy is this?" It was Callum's turn to respond with baffled outrage. "Of course ye cannae come, mo chridhe."
"Why?" she asked with a sweet reasonableness that she knew cut him on the raw. She meant it to.
"Because the minute your father gets within ten feet of ye, he'll snatch you back to Bruard."
"That would at least prevent bloodshed."
Callum grabbed her arms. She suspected he was an inch from giving her a good shake. Well, welcome to how I've been feeling for the last half hour, my braw laddie.
"I'm no’ giving ye up." His voice lowered to a whisper for her ears alone. "I cannae live without ye, lassie. Dinnae ask me to."
"Do ye think I want to live without you?"
The question lashed at him like a whip. She blushed as she realized Duff and Brian observed them with undisguised interest.
Straightening, she pulled away from Callum. "You're no’ going alone into my father's camp. If I'm there, I may be able to blunt the Drummond’s anger. At the very least I can counter whatever reports John has taken back about my mistreatment. It's pretty clear from Da’s letter that he thinks ye forced me into marrying you."
The message from the Drummond camp had seethed with violent language and bitter insults. Many men would have considered it a killing matter. Mhairi had cause yet again to be grateful for her husband’s equable temper.
"I'm no’ taking ye, Mhairi," Callum said in a hard voice.
She narrowed her eyes on him, although she maintained her tone of gentle persuasion. "How do ye intend to stop me, sir?"
As if the words were written on the air in flame, she saw him consider saying he'd lock her up again. She braced for the threat, and wondered what she'd do if he made it. He must know that if he imprisoned her, he'd shatter every ounce of trust they’d built up after their difficult beginning.
Callum sighed with frustration and ran his hand through his hair. Relief flooded her as she sucked in a shaky breath. She won that small battle at least, and it boded well for their future. Physically he was stronger than she was, but at that moment, she believed he'd never again turn that strength against her.
"She's right, Mackinnon," Brian said. "I saw the Drummond with her. He worships the ground the lady walks on. I never saw him refuse her anything."
Callum raised a mocking eyebrow. "It's clear she's had her own way all her life."
He was angry, Mhairi could see. She didn't like it, but she’d cope. She couldn't let him venture into that lions’ den with no protection but his honorable heart.
"If my father sees I'm unharmed and happy to be your wife, he might relent."
"He might decide he wants to kill ye as well," Callum snapped.
"Och, I’m no’ pretending that he willnae be furious about our marriage, but he'll forgive me."
"A plea for an end to the feud from your lady might offer the Drummond a chance to withdraw without sacrificing his pride. Once he thinks about it, he willnae want to bombard a castle that houses his only child, Mackinnon," Duff said. "If ye corner him and give him nae way out without stepping down, who kens what he'll do?"
Mhairi held one hand out in appeal. She prayed this wasn't blind optimism speaking. "He's old and stubborn and he has nae reason to love the Mackinnons, but he loves me. If I'm there with you, he might put his affection for his daughter above his hatred for ye."
When Callum stepped away without taking her hand, she tried not to feel the sting. "I swore yesterday that I’d cherish ye, Mhairi. Taking ye into a war camp makes me a liar."
She muffled a frustrated growl. "You're thinking with your heart no’ your head, Mackinnon."
"Aye, lassie, I am." The impressive jaw set like granite. "Because my heart would break if anything happened to ye."
Oh, dear Lord above, what did he expect her to say to that? Poignant emotion jammed in her throat and something else that felt like pride. Not only that he loved her, but that he was prepared to make an unashamed declaration of his feelings in front of witnesses.
Which didn't mean he was right about leaving her behind.
As the anger leached away from her, she sucked in another breath. She knew when she agreed to
marry him that he was obstinate and determined. She also knew that, despite the bad first impression the kidnapping had made, he had a protective streak a mile wide. She only had to remember how he’d blamed himself for Sheena’s treachery, to the point where he’d been willing to release her.
"Callum, listen to me, please." She spoke softly as she came up to curl her hand around his brawny arm. His muscles were tight beneath her hold, and the glance he cast her told her he didn't trust this sudden conciliatory attitude.
Mhairi kept her voice low and coaxing. "The most sensible way forward is for ye to stay here and prepare to defend Achnasheen while I go to talk to my father. He’ll listen to me, and I’m the only person at Achnasheen who isnae at any physical risk from him."
"Hell, Mhairi!" He broke away and stared at her as if she’d gone mad. "If ye set foot in that camp, you’ll be back in Bruard before you have time to blink."
"Is that so bad?" Brian asked. "Begging your pardon, my lady, but your father is old. Once John Drummond takes over, there's a chance for all of us to find a new way in the glens. He’s always spoken in favor of ending the feud."
"John Drummond hates my guts," Callum snapped. "And he's got a notion to stealing my wife."
"She’s married to ye. He cannae marry her while you live."
"Which means we’ll need to start watching for assassins," Callum spat out.
"I wouldnae have thought of John as a sneaking murderer." Mhairi wished she could give a more ringing endorsement to her cousin’s principles.
Callum bared his teeth at her. "Ye didnae ken he had his eye on you either. John Drummond left here wanting to skin me alive."
"Perhaps," she said. "But I've known him all my life. He’s a sensible man." She paused, remembering his behavior when they’d danced at the feast. Honesty made her add, "Most of the time."
"So you're saying you'll happily go back to Bruard and stay there for the rest of your father's life?"
Callum’s savage question made her wince. "Happily has nothing to do with it," she snapped back. "It's no’ ideal, but it’s still better than my father murdering my husband in cold blood and giving me to my cousin."
"Och it sounds like an old ballad," Duff said and received two glares, one brown, one blue, in response to his attempt at levity.
"It's nae marriage," Callum growled.
"Are ye saying you willnae wait for me?"
"I'm saying, mo chridhe, that I married a wife yesterday and her place is by my side, not pining for me ten glens away. And if ye imagine your father is going to leave you free to roam the way ye used to, you're completely addled. He'll lock ye up tighter than you were ever confined at Achnasheen. He willnae take the risk of ye running back to me or me stealing you away again. If ye go back to Bruard, you go back as a prisoner."
She had a sinking feeling he was right. "Callum, ye said my place is by your side. I agree. Bring me with ye, if you must take this daft risk of meeting face-to-face with my father. He willnae hurt me. Ye know he willnae. And if he sees us together, he may relent. I'm no’ in danger in the Drummond camp. Ye are."
"Mo chridhe, I cannae lose ye…"
His glittering eyes burned into hers, and his fists opened and closed at his sides. She knew he battled the urge to bundle her away to the tower room and put her under guard.
Mhairi made herself smile, although she was equally aware of the risks of venturing into Drummond territory. "Ye willnae lose me. I promised myself to ye yesterday. I'm no’ so fickle that I already wish to take back my vows, Mackinnon."
Duff ventured to interrupt the fraught silence. "Mackinnon, your lady's brave and true. Trust her to guide ye through this. One thing is sure, if ye walk into the Drummond's tent without her, ye willnae come out again. Then the feud will flare up worse than ever and turn both glens red. That's the last outcome ye want."
Callum frowned at her. "You're a troublesome woman, Mhairi Drummond."
Now she knew she’d won, Mhairi could bear his resentment. Relief tinged with a large measure of trepidation rushed through her and made her knees wobbly. "Och, it's Mackinnon now, no’ Drummond."
"Just remember that," her husband muttered and turned away as if he could hardly bear to look at her anymore.
Chapter 26
Mhairi walked at Callum’s side as they crossed the Drummond camp toward her father's tent. A cold steady rain fell about them, and the grass beneath her feet was wet and slippery. The dreich weather turned the night dark and reflected her grim mood. She was deathly afraid, not for herself, but for the man she’d married.
She and Callum were swathed in heavy cloaks, as were the four Mackinnon men-at-arms who accompanied them. She kept her head down, as did her husband. Both of them tried to keep their identity secret as long as they could. There was an uneasy atmosphere in the camp, and she feared if they were discovered too soon, it could mean disaster. A nervous guard could stick a sword through Callum and bustle her off to her father before she had a chance to stop him.
"The messengers from the Mackinnon keep, Drummond," the gruff old soldier who escorted them said, lifting the flap and ushering them in.
Mhairi had known Angus since she was a wean. He was one of her father's most trusted retainers. She'd be surprised if he hadn’t guessed that the smallest member of the Mackinnon party was the chieftain’s daughter. But to her relief, he didn’t say anything.
After the darkness outside, the lamplight inside the tent dazzled her. When her vision cleared, she saw her father and half a dozen of her kinsmen, including John, poring over some drawings on the table. Plans of Achnasheen, she'd guess.
When her father glanced up at the interruption, she bit back a gasp of dismay. He looked like he'd aged ten years in the days she'd been gone. Deep lines scored his face, dark circles ringed his eyes, and he looked old and defeated in a way she'd never seen him. She'd hated hearing Brian speak about her father's death as a looming event, but right now, she couldn't help recognizing that he was over seventy and not in the best of health.
She said a silent prayer that the dangerous gamble of coming here paid off. She loved her father. He deserved a peaceful old age with a brood of grandchildren around him. Perhaps after Callum's glorious efforts last night, she already carried a child whose bloodline would unite the Drummonds and Mackinnons.
The Drummond stepped away from the table. "Have they been searched?"
He'd always been lean and spare. Now he was skeletal. Guilt stabbed Mhairi. She hated how her absence had preyed on him. Her absence, and now her apparent betrayal of everything she’d been brought up to believe.
"No’ yet," Angus said.
"We are unarmed, in accordance with custom," Callum said in an expressionless voice as he slid back his heavy black hood.
In the reverberant silence, Callum tugged his sodden cloak from his shoulders and flung it away with a defiant gesture. Beneath it, he wore his black velvet coat and the red and black Mackinnon plaid. The colors looked almost offensively vivid against the drab Drummond green.
"Ye, here!" John gasped in loathing and reached for his sword. There was an audible scrape of metal as every other Drummond except Angus and the laird drew their weapons.
Callum didn't retreat, and his expression remained stony, but Mhairi could see he was as alert as a lion facing a hunter. With shaking hands, she pushed back her own hood. More gasps of surprise and concern and anger.
She let her cloak slip to the ground. She was dressed in the magnificent silk gown that Callum had given her before the feast. Her hair was tied up with ribbons and pearls. The heavy topaz necklace circled her throat. She was dressed for a royal court, not an army tent in an obscure corner of the Highlands.
She'd chosen her clothing deliberately. She hoped to show her father that her husband treated her as a great lady, but she also hoped that her once-despised beauty might prove an advantage here in this tent full of dangerous men.
Mhairi intended to wield her beauty as a weapon. It seemed to be working. L
ooking around, she saw she had the undivided attention of every man present.
"We’re here under the conditions of parley, Father. If ye harm my husband, you'll stain the proud Drummond name forever."
"Husband," her father spat, his lips thin with rage. "Rapist, more like."
Callum shifted, but she reached out to take his arm. His life was poised on a knife edge. If he made one false move, he was doomed. And if he was doomed, so was her every hope of happiness.
"I was treated with care and respect at Achnasheen," she said clearly.
It was mostly true.
"No’ from what I heard," John snarled, without lowering his blade.
"Ye heard what you wanted to hear," she said coldly. She still hadn't forgiven her cousin for settling her future with her father without consulting her. "I went to my husband's bed a virgin. I’ll swear that on the Bible. I’ll swear that on my dead mother's life."
There was a rustle of astonishment at her blunt announcement. But now wasn’t the time to try and save her modesty.
"He still forced ye into a wedding," her father said.
Mhairi released Callum’s arm and stood up straight. She continued in that cool, clear voice. "I willingly accepted the Mackinnon as my husband. I'm proud to take my place as the Lady of Achnasheen."
Her father paled and staggered back. "Nae daughter of mine would say that."
Hurt sliced through her, although there had always been a chance that her father might disown her for her disloyalty. She raised her chin to hide the quivering mass of fear and misery inside her. One hint of weakness and all was lost.
"I'm your daughter, Da. I'm also the Mackinnon's wife. The discord between our clans has to end. Too much blood has already been spilled, with nae gain to either side."
Her father scowled. "Ye dare to lecture me on strategy, daughter?"
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