*
When they arrived at Glengarry, the chief greeted them, shared a meal, and retired to his rooms. Callum did his best to conceal his surprise when he and Mari were given a room in the castle. While Lady MacDonell was alive, he had never been invited to stay in the castle. He had never dared hope for this sudden inclusion in castle life. Even so, Glengarry spoke little to them, and never of why they were here or how long they would remain.
In the days that followed, Glengarry was scarce, grieving alone and not leaving his rooms except to oversee the most pressing matters. But the days passed and Glengarry emerged from his grief, and began to spend time with the people around him. On one such evening, he invited Mari and Callum to the solar. The late summer night had grown cool. They had gathered about a large fire. A glowing log sparked and crackled.
Glengarry said simply, “I’d like you to stay.”
Callum lifted his eyes toward his father’s. His throat thickened with emotion. How many times over the years had he wished for these words?
“As my son,” he added, meeting his eyes squarely.
“Aye?” Callum answered. He was too stunned to say more. He had spent his life as an outsider, a bastard. It had shaped who he was as a man. He had turned years of emptiness and sometimes ridicule into strength of heart, mind and body. And now, when he had finally resolved who he was as a man, he was given the chance to be something he had not dreamed of since childhood: Glengarry’s son.
“Think on it,” said his father.
Callum nodded. He could not shake the feeling that there was something more. It was in Glengarry’s manner, something to which Callum had become attuned over the years. He chastised himself for being so reluctant to trust. After all, it was a simple offer. And why would Glengarry not long to have family about him?
“You honor me, sir.”
*
Later, a fire warmed the night air as the men sat about it outside on a bright moonlit night. Mari had gone to sleep, but Callum was restless. He came to join them with a sudden longing for their simple life as dragoons, when few problems loomed from one day to the next. He told them of his father’s offer. They were not surprised.
Charlie said, “When we were sent to bring you back, we expected it. After all, he’s lost his only heir.”
“Only legitimate heir,” Alex corrected. “There are rumblings in the clan. The chief knows this and wants to secure the clan’s peace and stability after he’s gone.”
“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.
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 walk. 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.”