by J. L. Jarvis
“Is he ill?” Callum asked.
“No, but the death of a loved one reminds us of our own mortality, and I think he is weary. He wants someone to keep the clan together in peace.”
“Ranald could do it,” said Callum.
“Aye. So could you.”
Callum met Alex’s eyes, but could not share his confidence.
Charlie said, “There is talk that Clan MacKenzie would attack, given the chance.”
Callum said, “Och, that talk has gone on for the last hundred years.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “Aye, well, when you trap a congregation in their kirk and send your piper marching about it merrily playing a tune while it burns to the ground, people tend to hold a wee grudge.”
They all stared into the fire in silence. It had not been their clan’s finest hour.
Callum said, “Leaders do terrible things.”
“And sometimes they do great things,” said Alex. “That choice would be yours.” He looked at Callum with confidence.
*
Gray and misty days followed in which Callum spent hours with the chief learning about the workings of the castle and clan. Mari thought she should be learning as well about running a household, but whenever she broached the subject the chief put her off, so Mari felt idle and restless. When the sun at last rose, Callum took her out riding. It was a crisp autumn day, and the hills were brilliant with color. At a sunny clearing beside the loch, they stopped and spread out a spare plaid that Callum had brought. Mari leaned back into Callum's cradling arms and they stared at the loch and the hills, and they talked. Despite how busy Glengarry had kept Callum, Mari was happy to see him forming a bond with his father and finding his place in the world.
“And what of you, love? How is your life here?”
She rested her head on his chest. “It is quiet and good to watch you. You are where you belong.”
He smiled gently. “Am I?”
“Aye.”
“I belong beside you, as well, and I’ve missed you, my Mari.” He leaned down and breathed in the scent of her hair. Gently, he removed the combs that held it in place, until it cascaded in thick lengths that spilled over her shoulders. He combed his thick fingers through her hair and lifted enough to expose her bare neck. There he pressed soft lips upon it until Mari shivered.
“Are you cold?” He pulled the plaid over her shoulders.
With a warm look, Mari said, “No, not as long as you keep your arms about me just so.” She nestled into his arms as she pivoted around and thoroughly kissed him. Her breath brushed his neck as she whispered, “I have missed you.” She reached down and pulled his plaid up the length of his thighs. “And I’ve longed for you.” She turned and straddled him. With a throaty growl, he gripped her hips as she guided him into her. His hands slid up to her breasts, and he fumbled to unfasten her bodice. With a curse, he curled his fingers over the edge of the fabric as Mari laughed lightly. She unfastened her clothing and bared herself to him. With a deep sigh, he brushed his hands over her satin skin, and then lifted her off him and lowered her onto her back. He touched her and watched her face flush with the bliss he brought her.
When Callum collapsed beside her, he lay his head on her shoulder and stretched his arm over her.
Late in the afternoon, Mari opened her eyes to see clouds rolling in over the sun. She stirred, and Callum awoke. “Now I’m cold,” she said, pulling her clothing about her. She looked down and smiled wistfully at him as he watched her. “It’s late.”
“Aye.” He sat up with a regretful sigh.
They shared a last lingering look, and then Callum patted her hand and they got up to leave. As Mari shook the plaid and began to fold it, he circled her waist and pulled her against him. “I love you,” he whispered into her ear.
She returned his embrace. “I know. But you should continue to tell me—in case I forget.”
“I’d rather show you.”
Mari lifted her eyes and grinned. “You could do both.”
And he did.
*
In no hurry, they returned to the castle. But as they entered the bailey, there was a flurry of activity and new horses being led to the stable.
“Lad,” called Callum to a young stable boy.
“Sir?” said the lad as he led two of the horses.
“What is all this?”
“Visitors.” He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “MacKenzies.”
Callum nodded and sent the boy on his way. He said to Mari, “MacKenzies dinnae just happen by to visit MacDonells. This cannot be good.” But as he looked about, everything looked as it should. There were no signs of alarm, or of guards preparing for battle.
As they were about to enter the great hall, one of Glengarry’s men approached Callum. “Glengarry wishes to see the lass.”
With a sharp look, Callum snapped, “The ‘lass’ is my wife. And you may call her Mistress MacDonell.”
The man looked down. “Aye, sir. It was only what he said, so I—”
“So you now know better than to address her so.”
“Aye, sorry, sir.”
“Glengarry will see her inside, if you’ll just let us pass,” Callum said, losing his patience.
“He told me to bring her to the solar without you.”
Callum took Mari’s hand firmly in his. “Did he, now?”
“Aye, sir.”
Charlie joined them and said quietly, “I heard him say it. I will go with her, if you like.”
“Aye.” Callum frowned.
Mari said, “Callum, dinnae fash yourself so. I’m sure it is nothing. I’ve been asking when I would learn of my duties here. I am sure it is that, nothing more.”
Callum considered for a moment, and then lifted her hand to his lips and released her into Charlie’s care, but not without a look of caution to Charlie. After watching her walk down the hall on Charlie’s arm, Callum turned and went into the great hall.
Chapter 23
Glengarry spied Callum as soon as he entered and called him over to the fire. There, Callum was introduced to Lord Kenneth Mackenzie, 4th Earl of Seaforth and his sister, Lady Aemilia. Upon hearing her name, Aemilia turned from the fire to face him. She was a beauty, a very young one, with fair hair swept back from her face to reveal limpid eyes. Callum thought he saw something quite sad there, despite her cordial smile. As he went through the motions of greeting them and sitting together by the fire, Callum’s mind was with Mari. She was by now in the solar, waiting to meet with Glengarry. Why had the chief sent her there, knowing that he would be here, along with Callum? But there was no time to guess at Glengarry’s reasons, nor could they discuss them right now. In the best times, relations with MacKenzies were strained. If they were to form some sort of peaceful alliance, as appeared possible now, all parties would need to speak and act with great care.
Cousin Ranald stood guard at the door. He had made himself scarce since Callum moved into the castle. Callum understood why, and was watchful of him. Callum had, after all, usurped Ranald as the heir apparent of Glengarry’s power and fortune. Now that Callum was in line as the next clan chief, Ranald had to feel displaced at best, and resentful and bitter at worst. Now being relegated to guard duty must have been a harsh blow to receive, unless Ranald had volunteered for it. But the choice was a sound one on Glengarry’s part. Ranald was Glengarry’s finest warrior. Who better to have close when meeting with the enemy?
They had been sitting and talking of small matters. Their trip had been uneventful, which was always a good thing. They had talked of the weather. At last Glengarry turned to Callum. “Why dinnae you take Lady Aemilia outside for some air?”
Callum fought back the pained look that had instantly formed on his face. She had been riding most of a day from Castle Chanonry of Ross. If anything, the poor girl would be weary of fresh air, and in need of some rest. But Glengarry returned a strong look that cautioned him not to argue. So he offered his arm and led Lady Aemilia outdoors for a w
alk. Ranald followed closely behind. Whether to protect or to chaperone, Callum was uncertain. He was sure that it was not needed. They were within the well-guarded walls of the castle, made more so by additional men posted while the MacKenzies were here. A person could not go anywhere without being seen by at least one guard. If Ranald thought he was protecting the Lady Aemilia from Callum, then it was an insult. She was lovely, but so was his Mari, with whom he was deeply in love—Mari, his wife, who was trapped in the chief’s solar on what seemed like a fool’s errand. At least Charlie was with her and would entertain and look after her while she waited for Glengarry. However, if she was not downstairs by the time they returned from this walk, he would go to retrieve her.
Driven, no doubt, by Callum’s silence, Lady Aemilia and Ranald had become engaged in some sort of idle conversation about the plants and the weather, or some such dull nonsense. Out of politeness, Callum made an effort to pay attention. Ranald surprised him with considerable knowledge of gardens and flowering herbs. He would not have expected it. She seemed quite entertained, a fact which also surprised him as he suppressed yet another yawn. As he watched Lady Aemilia’s red curls bob as she spoke, his mind wandered to why she was there. MacKenzies did not simply visit MacDonells for the pleasure of their company. There was too much bad blood going back for generations. So what was the reason?
“Do you not agree, Sir Callum?”
Torn away from his thoughts, Callum looked at her, feeling at a loss. All he had heard was, “Sir Callum.”
“I am not ‘Sir’ anything, Lady Aemilia.”
She smiled sweetly and said, “Master MacDonell, then.”
Just as Callum was thinking there was no end to her poise, she stifled a yawn.
“I’m so sorry!” She appeared truly shocked.
With a warm smile, he said, “My Lady, you have had a long trip, and a very long day. Shall we go inside and find someone to show you to your room? You will no doubt wish to rest before supper.”
A broad and genuine smile bloomed. “Aye, I would. Thank you.”
Callum felt Ranald’s scrutiny and glanced toward him. Callum caught a dark look before Ranald’s eyes darted away. Lady Aemilia followed the exchange and studied Ranald for a moment, and then took the arm Callum offered.
After Ranald headed off toward the stables, Callum found a housemaid to show Lady Aemilia to her room. Then he went up the back stairs to find Mari. He swung open the door and found Glengarry seated and watching her as she stood at the window. She smoothed her hands over her face and then turned to face him as he entered the room. He could read little in her expression, but her cheeks were moist with fresh tears. Callum rushed to her side. “What is it?”
With a light shake of her head, she looked at Glengarry, who appeared deeply concerned. He looked down, and then lifted his eyes to meet Callum’s. “We’ve a chance to end the feud with the MacKenzies.”
It should have been good news. Callum glanced at Mari, and then asked his father, “At what cost?”
Ignoring the question, Glengarry went on. “Ranald went to see Seaforth some time ago, and it looked like we might find common ground. But after Bothwell Brigg, MacKenzies sided with the Covenanters, and I’d let go of hope. But it seems, now that the fighting is over, he is willing to talk once more.”
Callum said, “Aye, well that’s good, is it not?” But he knew there was more. He was troubled, even more so when he took Mari’s hand. She was trembling.
“Yes,” Glengarry continued, “it’s a good thing. But alliances are never strong without blood—of one kind or the other. If we dinnae wish to spill blood, we must join the two bloodlines.” He stopped and looked frankly at Callum.
Callum followed the inference and shook his head. “I dinnae ken what sort of scheme you’ve concocted, but it cannot involve me.”
Glengarry leaned forward. “Listen, son.”
“Oh, ‘son’ is it now?”
“Yes. You are my son, and you’ve got to accept what goes along with that.”
Callum glared at his father.
“Callum.” Mari put her hand on his arm.
He looked at her with an angry and desperate look. Dragging her by the hand, he led her to the window. In quiet words that stuck in his throat, he said, “Mari, what has he told you?”
She looked at him with as brave a look as she could muster and said, “We’re not married.”
“Och! I have pledged my life to you, woman.”
“But not before a priest, or clergy of any kind. No matter how much we want it to be, in the eyes of the law—”
His voice rang out. “Law be damned—and you, too, if you truly believe that!” He gripped her shoulders as tears trailed down her cheeks.
“Callum!” His father barked it out as an order, with a harshness Callum had rarely heard.
Callum let go at once and looked down at Mari. He stepped back, shaking his head. He was too shocked to voice words for a moment. “Mari?” He stumbled against a chair and sank down, burying his face in his hands. When he lifted his head, his face was void of emotion. “I went through hell for you, Mari. I took the place of your brother in prison. I walked back from that hell of a shipwreck. I lived to see you, because you are my life and my heart bides with you.”
“Callum, please.” A tear fell from her cheek.
He gripped her shoulders. “You are my wife. And you now take those words that we pledged and you say they’re not real?”
Her only answer was a helpless look from tearful eyes.
Callum’s eyes burned into Mari’s. When she could no longer bear it, she cast her eyes downward.
He glared, his wrath mounting. “So if we are not married, then what does that make you? My whore?” He abruptly arose, knocking over the chair, and stormed out of the room.
*
Hours later, Callum appeared at Nellie’s cottage. He knocked at the door and it opened. Charlie stepped outside and closed the door gently behind him, then swung back around and punched Callum in the chin. Callum took it without fighting back.
Charlie said, “How could you say that to her, you bloody maggot?”
Callum quietly asked, “Is she here?”
“If she is, you’ll not see her. Even if she would see you, I would not let her. Now go to! Back to your ivory tower, you bleedin’ fool!”
Callum gritted his teeth and glanced at the door. He could fight his way through Charlie and storm through the door, but it would only upset Mari and make matters worse. Callum turned and walked away.
*
Late into the night, Alex found Callum on a spot overlook the loch where they used to go as children to play, and then later as young men after they had gotten into mischief and needed to hide out for a while.
Callum glanced up and then back at the loch, which was lit by the nearly full moon. “Did you come to take a swing at me too?”
Alex gave a half smile. “I think Charlie did a fine enough job of it. Whatever he left undone, I’ve no doubt that you’ve finished.” He paused and looked at the path of the moon’s reflection over the loch.
“How is she?” asked Callum.
“Her heart’s broken.”
Callum looked up, visibly pained at the thought. “Charlie’s right. I am a bloody fool. She said only what Glengarry had convinced her to say. She did nothing to deserve what I said, and I dinnae deserve her.” Callum stared over the loch to the hills.
Alex sat down beside him.
Callum rubbed his face wearily and let out a deep sigh. “My father wants me to marry Aemilia.”
Alex had pieced together much of what had happened, but he had not heard Callum’s side.
Callum said, “We’re all tired. We fought for the crown, and we’d all do it again, but everyone’s weary of fighting. MacKenzies fought against us on the Covenanters’ side, and they’re tired, too. People were killed on both sides. And now there’s more tension than ever between the two clans. If we go on fighting, more lives will be lost. A marr
iage would bring the two clans together, and everyone would live happily ever after. It’s quite simple, really.”
“Except that you’re already married.”
With a wry sideways look, Callum said, “Well, I’d thought as much, aye.”
“And Mari? What does she think?”
Callum’s eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, he was clenching his jaw. “I didnae give her much chance to tell me.” His anger faded to sorrow. “And now I’ve broken her heart.”
“You’ve hurt her. But it’s Glengarry who’s broken her heart.”
“And mine with it.” With a false smile, Callum said, “I thought he’d accepted me as his son.” He took a moment to regain control of his emotions. When he could speak with even tones, he said, “He just needed me for a purpose.”
Alex said in a low voice, “As purposes go, it’s a noble one.”
“Peace? Aye, it is. Even if he must destroy lives to achieve it.”
“But your lives are not lost.”
Callum’s anger rose back to the surface. “Are you agreeing with him?”
Alex measured his words. “No. And yet, I cannot entirely disagree. Nor can you.”
Bitterness flashed in Callum’s eyes, but he reluctantly nodded. “Peace between the clans. For that, I would fight any battle and give up my life. But how can I give up Mari?”
“I dinnae ken.”
Callum said, barely able to speak, “Nor do I. I love her. How could I hurt her like that?” Frustrated, he combed his fingers through his hair as he thought of his last words to Mari. “I called her a whore.”
Alex said, “Mari told me, you bastard.”
It was a raw nerve, and Alex knew it. Callum overcame his initial reaction and said, “I deserved that.”
“You did. But, knowing Mari, she has already forgiven you.”
“She would. And that makes me feel worse.”
“As it should. But from what I heard from Nellie, what wounded her most was the thought that she’d lost you.”
