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.
They had been expecting her father and men from the Earl of Ulster, as the earl himself was recovering from the wound Callum had inflicted upon him in battle. They’d had men standing watch, and word had come early this morning that her father’s birlinn approached by sea. She watched as the birlinn neared the shore, and her breath caught as a sea of warriors, men faithful to her and Callum, advanced from the castle to meet her father’s men.
Grants, MacLeods, and MacLeans stood side by side with their swords raised, blades shining in the sun. When her father’s warriors started off the ship, a cry of warning went out. She held her breath for one second, worrying her father might be so foolish as to try to battle his way through, but he was greatly outnumbered.
As she and Callum made their way to the shore, her heart began to pound. Callum squeezed her hand. “I can speak with him alone, if ye prefer.”
“Nay. I will say my piece,” she said.
Moments later, she stood in front of her father, who had been the lone man allowed to set foot on the shores of Callum’s land. “I’m glad ye came,” she said by way of greeting.
Her father’s eyebrows rose in skepticism.
“I am,” she repeated. “I wanted to tell ye that I will nae ever fear ye again.”
“Ye should,” her father bit out. “I will gather more of my forces and the earl’s, and I will return.”
“I’d nae do that if I were ye,” Callum said. “I have made an alliance with the MacLeod, the MacLean, and the Earl of Ainsworth.”
Iain came to stand by Marsaili’s side. “And I have the king’s word that if ye rise against the Grant, he condones us going to war with ye. So I will gladly kill ye if ye return.”
“As will I,” Callum added. Her brothers and Alex nodded their agreement.
Her father’s face turned red. “It seems I must depart for now,” he spat, “but one day, Marsaili, ye will wish ye had nae turned against me.”
“My only wish,” she said, “was that ye were nae my father.”
The Campbell huffed and turned to leave. Callum slid his arm around Marsaili as they stood on the shore and waited until her father sailed away.
Callum leaned close to her. “Are ye sad?”
“Nay,” she assured him as Marion came forward and handed Brody to her. Her son curled his fingers into her hair. “I’ve nae ever been happier.”