Twenty-one

Maggie sat in the middle of her quilts and stared at the beautiful dress laid out on the foot of the bed. It had been placed there when she’d been sleeping, which, by the long shadows coming through the window, must have been for hours. She rose to her knees and gently ran her fingertips over the material. The wool’s weave resembled that of Callum’s blanket—the one she’d worn to stay warm during the trek over the mountain—except the colors were more vibrant, the wool softer, finer, and the linen shift so smooth, it almost felt like silk.

Next to the dress were several shiny ribbons that matched the green stripe in the plaid, a new pair of supple leather shoes, and some silky hose.

A gift from Callum, most likely, and she sighed in appreciation.

She rose from the bed, feeling much stronger than even this morning, her body rested, her torn muscles and broken bones almost healed, surely.

She thought back to earlier in the day when she’d thrown her daggers to stop the rocks from falling—Was that only a few hours ago?—and a wave of gratitude washed through her that she hadn’t broken her throwing hand. Although she was fair good with her other hand too.

She’d just risen from the bed when a knock sounded at the door, and Aileen’s voice came through the wood. “Maggie, are you up? May I come in?”

“Aye, of course.”

The door had been left unbarred, and Aileen pushed it open with a smile on her face. Maggie hurried over and gave her a hug. “Sister,” she whispered in Aileen’s ear.

Aileen startled in surprise and then, after a small sob, gently returned the hug.

Maggie pulled back and looked her in the eye. “And I’ll proudly call you that in front of everyone, if you’ll let me. Callum too. Believe me, no one will dare cross the two of us. And if they do, you tell me.” She reached for a weapon under her sleeve and found the dagger she’d taken from Callum in the leather sheath strapped to her forearm. “I’ll wave this in their face and scare the wickedness right out of them.”

Aileen stared at her, eyes wide, then she burst into a mixture of tears and laughter. “Well, then, you may call me sister whene’er you like. And I’ll do the same to you. ’Tis my duty if it helps rid the land of wickedness.” She grasped Maggie’s uninjured hand and pulled her to the bed. “Come, let’s get you dressed. Callum has a surprise for you.”

She helped Maggie out of her clothes and then into the fine arisaid laid out for her. Picking up the end of one of Maggie’s long curls, she asked, “Do you want me to weave some ribbons through it? Or braid it? I’m afraid I’m not verra good at the intricate hair styles some of the women wear.”

“You mean Glynis,” Maggie said with a grimace. “Doona worry about that for me. Callum wouldnae recognize me if my hair wasn’t a bit wild, I’m sure.”

“I can sprinkle the strands with some lavender water so the curls stay smooth and then pull it away from your face with a ribbon. My mother had hair like yours, and she swore the flower’s oils stopped the curls from flying in all directions.”

“Aye, that sounds perfect,” Maggie said, sitting on the bed with her back to Aileen. “Can you give me a hint as to your brother’s plans?”

Aileen’s hands stilled in Maggie’s hair. “Nay, Callum threatened to make me sing in front of everyone if I breathed even one word of it. My…brother…was most adamant that it stay a secret. I can say that I think you’ll like it.”

She brought over a vial of lavender oil that she added to a bowl already filled with a small amount of water. She mixed the two and sprinkled the water on Maggie’s curls, then used a wide-toothed comb to work the oil-infused water through. It looked very pretty, and Maggie decided she would use the special water on her hair from now on to help tame it.

Which made her wonder—had she been tamed in some way too? Had Callum stroked his hand down her body and kissed her lips and changed who she really was?

She examined her hair, liking the sheen on the curls and the way her locks were drying into a glossy, curly mane. It was still her hair, just not so apt to fight her anymore. Perhaps the lavender water was like Callum’s presence in her life—her hair was soothed by the oil and became its best self in the same way she was soothed by Callum. But would she become her best self, or did he want her to be someone else entirely? Someone not so apt to shoot arrows and climb out of windows?

She suppressed a sigh, not wanting to alarm Aileen. Besides, she had more important things to worry about. She could fight Callum about his expectations of her later.

“Face me now, please,” Aileen said.

Maggie turned, and her sister-in-law fluffed her hair with her fingers, then picked up the matching ribbon, looped it behind Maggie’s neck, and tied it on the top of her head.

She smiled. “Oh, Maggie, you look so beautiful. Come on.” She took Maggie’s hand and tugged her to the door. “I can hardly wait for Callum to see you.”

They exited into the hallway. Artair and Gill were still there, and they beamed at her. “Och, you look like an angel, lass,” Artair said.

“Aye,” Gill added. “If I didn’t know you were our Lady MacLean, I’d think you a lady in the Seelie Court.”

She felt the heat stealing up her neck. “Being attacked by wolves and chased o’er a mountain has done wonders for my complexion. Not to mention a change of clothes and clean hair, of course.”

They laughed, and then Gill said, “Wait here. I’ll just let them know you’re coming,” before he darted ahead.

Maggie turned on Artair and pinned him with her gaze. “Do you know what Callum has planned? My husband’s sister willna tell me anything. After all we’ve shared, you’ll tell me, aye?”

His brows raised and he glanced at Aileen, who’d flushed the color of the red berries the weaver used in her dye. “His sister, is it? Aye, I found it remarkable that for such distant cousins, you and Callum looked so similar. ’Tis the eyes. It’s good to own who you are, Aileen, no matter the circumstances.”

She nodded jerkily, and Maggie squeezed her arm in support.

“And I willna tell you anything,” Artair continued, returning his gaze to Maggie, his huge arms crossing over his enormous chest. “Your husband would send me home to Clan MacKinnon in disgrace.”

Just then, Gill appeared around the corner and waved them forward. Maggie’s heart increased its rhythm in anticipation. She expected to be led down the stairs to the great hall, but instead, they proceeded to the chapel that Aileen had shown her earlier in the day. Inside was a sight to behold as the chapel opened onto a balcony that overlooked the inner courtyard, and light from above poured into the sanctuary.

Six men were in conversation in the hall outside the chapel door, including Gavin, Callum, and an older man opposite him. They were dressed in their best shirts and plaids and looked like they were fresh from a swim in the loch.

She stopped in surprise, peering at their faces. It had been years since they’d all been at her keep, running wild with her brothers, but other than the distinct differences in Gavin, they looked relatively the same. And the older man, whom she’d never paid much attention to before—he must be Gregor MacLeod, gray streaks running through his auburn hair and beard, his face deeply lined across his forehead and down his cheeks. And he was smiling at her like a delighted old woman.

“God’s truth, Callum! She’s a vision.” he said, coming forward to embrace her.

“She’s still injured,” Callum warned. “Doona squeeze her hard.”

Maggie wrapped her arms slowly around Gregor’s back, her fingers barely touching around that broad chest. When he pushed her to arm’s length and looked at her, his eyes so happy and warm, she let go her reserve and smiled at him.

“Hello,” she said, feeling like a lass of five rather than a fierce, almost-twenty-one-year-old woman who’d fought off both wolves and wicked men.

“Hello, Maggie,” he said. “Welcome to the family, lass. I canna tell you how happy I am to see you here and wed to my Callum. I’m sorry to hear that circumstances in your clan are so grave, but I promise we’ll do whate’er it takes to rectify the situation. Your cousin’s deeds willna go unpunished. Nor any of his accomplices’. I promise you we will root them out, help Ross if we can, and find John.”

“Thank you, Laird MacLeod—”

“Nay, we doona stand on formality within the family. You will call me Gregor.”

“Or donkey breath, as we like to call him,” one of the foster brothers said, and the others laughed.

She thought maybe it had been Kerr, the huge, wicked-looking rogue who wore his long black hair tied in a leather thong. He also wore an expression on his face that was just a bit too innocent. She frowned in his direction and was considering what she could throw at him for his insult to Gregor and where it would hurt the most but cause the least amount of damage. Gavin interrupted her contemplations, saying, “Och, run, Kerr! Look at her face. She’ll come after you now. And she willna just twist your stones like Amber did. She’ll twist and then prick them with her dagger.”

“My Amber’s an angel! You’re addled if you think otherwise,” another brother said, one she recognized as Lachlan. He frowned at Gavin, but his blue eyes were filled with pride and amusement. Aye, she remembered Lachlan—always laughing and up to some mischief when he wasn’t trying to tup the lasses…and succeeding more often than not.

She reached up her sleeve for her dagger, only to find her leather sheath empty. Whirling around, she saw Callum standing behind her with the dagger she’d stolen from him in his hand.

“Looking for this?” he asked.

“I thought merely to cut the long locks from Kerr’s head. I think he’ll fall just like Samson if I do. No matter. I’ll get another blade.”

Kerr raised his hands to cover his hair. “What have I done? Quickly, hide your daggers!” he said to the men.

The last brother had to be Darach, the one married to Caitlin, the innocent lass who apparently had all the men doing her bidding with a single, sweet look. He made a scoffing noise deep in his throat. “You worry for naught, Brother. I remember Maggie well. Someone poured tar in her hair, and a chunk had to be cut out. She would ne’er commit such an atrocity on someone else. Even if ’twas you, Kerr, who did it. Would you, lass?”

Maggie’s ire rose at the memory—the stickiness of the tar and her brother Ross doing a hatchet job on her hair as he cut it off to her shoulders. But she could see the laughter within Darach’s brown gaze and didn’t know if he told the truth. She glowered at Kerr anyway for good measure. He quickly retreated, sending the other men into gales of laughter.

Darach grasped her hand. “’Tis an honor, Maggie, to be able to call you sister. For sure, you have married the best of us.” He stepped forward to embrace her, and she found his dagger pressed into her hand.

He stepped back with a wink. The remaining men hugged her after that, and by the time she reached Kerr, she had three daggers hidden in her plaid and up her sleeves. And then all five of them watched with anticipation to see what she would do next.

She faced Kerr and opened her arms wide. “Will you not embrace me as well, Kerr MacAlister?” He looked at her suspiciously, then pulled his plaid up over his head like a hood and held it tight before stepping forward. His foolishness made everyone else laugh again, including her.

“I’ll call a truce, tonight, Brother, for ’tis not every day a new wife is introduced to her family.” She stepped toward him, and he grasped her hands in one of his huge paws before hugging her with one arm.

“Welcome to the family, lass,” he said.

She looked into his eyes and thought she detected guilt. She would speak to Callum later and find out for certain if it had been Kerr who’d spilled the tar in her hair, and if it had been an accident. Then she’d dole out her punishment when he least expected it.

Callum’s arm snaked around her waist as if he expected trouble, and he pulled her away from Kerr, who let his plaid fall down his back.

Maggie caught sight of Aileen standing behind the wall of brothers, and she reached an arm between Gregor and Lachlan to gesture for her. “I would have you greet one more sister,” she said to the men. She grasped Aileen’s hand and pulled her into the circle. The lass’s eyes grew round, and her skin flushed pink again. “Have you all met Callum’s sister, Aileen?” she asked.

Callum stilled, his eyes searching his sister’s face. “Are you sure, Aileen?” he asked. “I’ve always told you it’s your choice, and I meant it.”

She hesitated, gaze darting around to the men and Maggie. Finally, she said, “Aye. It’s easy being brave around my new sister-in-law.”

Callum grinned, and his eyes lit with happiness. “She makes us all braver.” He turned to Kerr. “Well, most of us.”

Lachlan clapped Kerr on the shoulder as they walked toward the balcony. “Why doona you just cut it yourself and save yourself the aggravation, Brother?”

Kerr glowered at them. “No one is touching my hair. Isobel likes my hair, even though she’ll not admit it. ’Twill be what finally wins her over.” He looked at Maggie with forlorn eyes. “You wouldnae stand in the way of true love, would you, lass?”

She couldn’t help laughing, but then with a quick flick of her wrist, she tossed the dagger at Kerr’s head and sliced the tie that held his gorgeous hair behind his shoulders. A few strands dropped to the floor, and the dagger embedded itself in a wooden picture frame on the stone wall.

Shocked silence reigned for a second before the men burst out laughing—all except Kerr, who felt his hair to make sure it wasn’t shorn.

“Nay, I would ne’er stand in the way of love. Consider us even, Brother,” she said.

He grunted and held out his hand to her. “Swear it, Maggie MacLean.”

She grasped his hand. “I swear I willna touch your bonnie hair. But I may teach Isobel how to wield a dagger.”

Kerr groaned. “Why couldnae I have married first? All your troublesome wives will corrupt my sweet Isobel.”

“I doona think my sister cares for your hair one way or the other, Brother,” Gavin said to Kerr. “But when I tell her how much you care, I’m sure she’ll come up with several different ways to cut it.”

Kerr scowled, and Darach wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Doona worry. I’ll bring Caitlin for a visit. She’ll have you and Isobel married in no time.”

Kerr’s face lightened into a broad smile. “Aye, now she’s a wonderful lass.”

The men all said “aye” with love-filled, sappy voices, and Maggie had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Men really were addled.

Someone cleared their throat, and Maggie looked up to see Father Lundie standing at the chapel door. “Father,” she said, moving forward to greet him. “I didn’t know you were here too.”

“Aye, lass. And I couldnae be happier to be presiding o’er the ceremony, even though by canon law, you’re already married.”

“Ceremony?” she asked, her heart beating faster, even though she’d guessed Callum’s intent.

Callum pressed a soft kiss to her lips, a touch that had her melting. When he pulled away and she opened her eyes, it was to find his foster brothers and Gregor watching them with those foolish expressions on their faces.

Gavin handed Callum a linen-wrapped package, and Callum unfolded it to reveal a stunning gold necklace set with rubies. “I know you said you didn’t want jewels as a wedding gift, but this was my mother’s. She’d want you to have it, as I do.” He held up the necklace. “Will you do me the honor, lass?”

She bit her lip to stop it quivering and nodded, tears coming from nowhere and flooding her eyes. She lifted her hair from the nape of her neck as he looped the chain around her neck and fastened it. His fingers trembled, and his mouth pressed into the crook of her neck before he turned her around so he could see.

The necklace nestled perfectly on her arisaid, the red jewel bringing out the red stripe in the design. “It’s beautiful, Callum. Thank you.”

“Not as beautiful as you are, lass. I am so happy and proud to be your husband. You are truly a remarkable woman.”

“Just as I am?” she asked. “Even though it’s in my nature to take risks?”

“Exactly as you are, even though sometimes I may be overprotective. That’s in my nature.”

“Aye. We’ll have to find a balance between the two.”

“Aye.” He raised her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Gregor will walk you in, and Aileen will stand with you. Is that agreeable?” On her nod, he said, “I wish your brothers could be here, and your parents.”

“And yours,” she added.

He smiled. “They would have loved you.” He looked like he was about to say something else, and Maggie found herself holding her breath, feeling like her heart was too big for her chest.

But then his foster brothers motioned him over. Callum cupped her cheeks one last time and kissed her before he joined them, the moment lost. They disappeared through the door with Father Lundie, leaving her wondering what he’d been about to say.

Maybe that he loved her?

Was that even possible? And did she want him to love her?

A lute began playing, a beautiful melody she’d never heard before. She raised a questioning eyebrow at Aileen. “Keith?” she asked.

“Aye, he composed it for you and Callum. Didn’t I tell you he was talented?”

“He is.”

Gregor held his arm out to her, and she found herself shaking. She and Callum were already joined, physically by the laws of man and spiritually by the laws of God. This ceremony held no real meaning except…it did. He’d planned all this, done this for her. It was a beautiful gesture of their life together.

Making her wonder… Can I love him? Do I already?

Gregor and Aileen nudged her toward the chapel door. When they passed through and approached the sanctuary at the front, she was surprised to see candles, flowers, and beautiful silks draped all around the balcony, which was open to the courtyard below. The courtyard was filled with Callum’s clan—her clan—dressed up in their best.

The two scaffolds still stood against the far wall, and the net, which now rested on the ground, still held some rocks, but they could barely be seen beneath all the decorations.

Father Lundie stood at the edge of the balcony with his back to the crowd, wearing a pristine white robe with a long purple stole around his neck and the holy book in his hands. Callum waited for her next to the priest, and his foster brothers lined up on either side of the balcony.

He smiled and stepped forward to take her hand, as if he couldn’t wait even one more second. She leaned up and kissed him, wanting so badly to press against him.

She stayed against his side, holding his hand for the entire ceremony and mass.

Father Lundie droned on a bit, but she found herself almost giddy with happiness. The words he uttered and had them utter passed by in a blur. Then Callum faced her, her hand in his as he vowed to love and cherish her forever before sliding a beautiful silver ring, intricately woven in an eternal knot, onto her finger. It was too big for her, but that could be fixed. She liked how heavy it was, feeling as if it represented the weight of Callum’s commitment to her.

Then it was her turn, and Maggie’s voice thickened with emotion as she promised to love and cherish him until death did they part. And she knew with a certainty she meant it.

Aye, I love him. With everything I am.

She slid her arms around his waist as he slid his hands into her hair and pulled her close, his mouth angling over hers in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate.

The priest was speaking again, but blood was roaring so loudly in her ears that she had no idea what he said and didn’t care. Even the cheer of the crowd around them wasn’t loud enough to disrupt their kiss.

Only the need to breathe had them breaking apart.

Father Lundie moved behind them, and Callum stepped with Maggie to the balcony rail, sliding his arm around her shoulders. “Lady Margaret MacLean,” he announced to the clan, his voice booming with pleasure around the courtyard. “My beloved wife and your cherished lady, who will fight for all of us with a strength, skill, and determination that leaves me humbled. To Lady MacLean!” Their clan cheered again.

“Maggie, look,” he said, pointing upward. She looked up to see that a net had been stretched across the open space, making her gasp.

“Is that my net?”

“Aye. Is it big enough, lass?”

“Oh, Callum, it’s wonderful!” She didn’t know what she would do with it yet, but she’d figure out something.

Then the net released on one side, and it fell to the opposite wall from where they stood, beside the second scaffold. Masses of dried flower petals floated down to the courtyard.

“Oh!” she gasped, awed by the beauty and the sweet smell of the roses, lavender, heather, and bluebells caught in the air drafts. The sky above was streaked with vibrant pinks and oranges, changing by the second as the sun set.

A few petals drifted right to them, and Maggie caught them in her fingers and brought them to her nose, inhaling their scent. “How did you do all this?” she asked her husband.

“I didn’t do all of it. Cook and our housekeeper, Linnette, have been planning for years. And they’ve been working constantly at it since we arrived. We have much to thank them for.”

“Aye, we do.”

He picked up her hand with the silver ring. “Do you like it?” he asked. “’Tis big, but we can make it fit. The ring belonged to my grandmother. My grandparents had a long, happy marriage. It’s what I hope for us, Maggie. An equal union filled with caring and commitment. And bairns, of course, if we’re so blessed.”

“I’m sure we will be if you e’er take me to bed.” She tried to sound aggrieved, but she knew her eyes were smiling at him. How could they not?

He cleared his throat. “When you’re well enough.”

She leaned into him, trailed her fingers along the collar of his shirt. “I’m feeling much better. You said an equal union, Callum. That means listening to me and taking my words into consideration.”

He stared at her, his eyes growing wild, his skin flushing. She could see the pulse beating in his neck. She leaned up and kissed the spot, finding it smooth and warm. Her mouth opened, and her tongue pressed against it. He groaned and pulled her in for a tight hug. “God’s blood, how will I make it through the wedding feast?”

He said the last loudly, and Gregor slapped him on the shoulder. “With great difficulty. Just like I did with Kellie, Darach did with Caitlin, and Lachlan did with Amber. But the wait makes it all the more sweet.”

“Well, let’s get started then.” Callum leaned over the balcony, looked up, and whistled. Two sturdy ropes fell down from above in front of them.

He grinned and pulled Maggie to the edge. “Do you want to slide down your own rope? Or hold on to me as I slide down?”

She grasped the rope closest to her with her good hand, eyes wide in delight. “My own, for sure!”

Gregor and the lads burst out laughing.

“Aye, of course you do,” Callum said, “but let me go first so I can— Maggie!”

But she’d already stepped on top of the stone bannister. The men hooted with amusement as Callum scrambled to catch up to her. With her other hand, she held her skirts tight to her body and stepped off the ledge while looping the rope around her feet to control her descent. She and Callum slid down beside each other to another loud cheer.

They walked through the crowd, receiving well wishes and congratulations before finally reaching the head table set on a dais at one end of the courtyard. Petals adorned a white linen tablecloth, and candles lit the night. She looked up to see full dark was upon them, and stars were scattered across the sky.

“Oh, Callum. It’s magical! I couldnae have asked for a more perfect wedding.”

He lifted her hand and kissed it.

The servers brought out dishes filled with roast quail, pickled eel, and suckling pig; greens, parsnips, and onions; and the softest loaves of bread she’d ever tasted. The mead was sweetened with honey, and the cake afterward was filled with nuts and berries.

When the meal was finished, Keith and Aileen set up their instruments and Keith sang, his voice rich and full, about Maggie and Callum—from their initial betrothal as children to their courtship and the dangers they’d faced together over the past few weeks. At first, Maggie’s face flamed at the retelling, but soon she was entranced with the ballad and listened as all the others did, filled with excitement and dread, laughter and awe, almost forgetting the story was about her. When Callum finally made her his bride, she got as teary eyed as the other lasses in the courtyard. Not to mention many of Callum’s brothers and great big Gregor—whom, she’d discovered, had a heart as big as the loch and a soft spot for a love story.

When the ballad ended, she stood along with everyone else and cheered Keith and Aileen. She leaned over to Callum. “Did you know that Aileen wrote that? Keith is getting all the applause, but without Aileen, there would be no song to sing.”

“I’ve read some of her poems. This was by far her best.” He whistled loudly and shouted out Aileen’s name, telling those around him, “My sister wrote that!”

Keith reached for Aileen and pulled her forward so she stood beside him. He dropped her hand and bowed deeply to her. Maggie looked around curiously and saw Glynis standing stiffly at another table, her face a polite mask, her hands barely moving in appreciation.

Maggie nudged Callum, who looked over. “Not exactly a proud wife, is she?”

Glynis strode to the door as soon as the applause finished, and the tables were pushed back to make room for dancing. Several men playing bagpipes and a flute began a toe-tapping reel.

“Where do you think she’s going?” she asked, her voice rising.

Callum wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they sat down. “I doona know, lass. Maybe just to her chamber. Doona worry. Gavin assigned several men and a woman to follow her. I thought on your words and took them seriously. But keep in mind, it may not lead anywhere. Remember, she didn’t have enough time to run around the courtyard and up the stairs to cut the rope.”

Maggie sighed. “Aye, you may be right.” Still, she couldn’t let it lie. “Did you speak to Drustan about her?”

“Nay, he was busy with the investigation, and I was busy with Gregor and the lads going over the parchments you gave us—all while answering a hundred last-minute questions about the wedding. I’ll speak to him tonight if I can catch him alone.”

She looked around the courtyard but didn’t see him. “Strange. He’s not here.” A chill ran up her spine. “Does he know you have people following Glynis?”

“I haven’t seen him since this afternoon. And the trackers are Gavin’s people, so Drustan willna notice anyone pulled off duty. Maggie, he may be tupping Glynis, but I doona think he’s involved with the conspiracy. He fought beside us when we were attacked at the hot pools, and he was in the courtyard when the rocks fell. His life was in danger both times.”

“I saw that. Everyone else ran for cover, and he just stared up at the rocks. You had to pull him to safety.” She squeezed his leg. “I was so frightened for you.”

“There was no need. I could see your daggers would hold. I doona know what’s going on with him, but I think it has more to do with his late wife. He says you resemble her. I think seeing you has brought it all back to him.”

She placed her hand on her heart, and a soft sob broke through her lips. “That’s so sad. How did she die?”

“Kicked by a horse.”

Their eyes met and held, gazes filled with the knowledge that either one of them could be taken from the other just as suddenly and as randomly.

Callum leaned forward and kissed her lips. “Come, Wife. Let’s go dance and celebrate our union and our upcoming lives together. Then we’ll return to our bedchamber, and I’ll caress and kiss every inch of you as slowly as you walked up that mountain.”

She huffed in outrage at his words, even though secretly, she was thrilled. He laughed as he pulled her up from the bench.

“Just for that, I’ll expect three dances from you and one from each of your brothers and Gregor. And I canna forget Finnian, Drustan, Artair, and Gill, or any of the other men in my new clan. We may be here all night. Then we’ll see just how slowly you want to pleasure me, Husband.”

* * *

Callum stood at the rear of the courtyard, which had emptied out considerably in the last hour. The remaining revelers had crowded around the other end where Maggie danced with the old steward, Donald, who had a surprising amount of kick in his heels for his age. She had indeed danced with all his foster brothers and Gregor, plus Artair, Gill, and what seemed like every other man in the clan.

He loved watching her, her dance steps quick, her hair flying and cheeks flushed the rosiest of reds. Gregor had called her a vision, and he was right. But Callum was ready to claim his wife, and if need be, he’d throw her over his shoulder as Lachlan had done to Amber on their wedding night and carry her to their bedchamber.

He’d just taken a step toward her when Drustan entered the courtyard, looking…off. One shoulder was raised, and his steps were almost tentative, as if he had difficulty walking.

Callum hurried past the empty tables and benches toward him, thinking maybe he was hurt—but then Drustan stopped. And he looked at the dancers…at Maggie. A frisson of trepidation ran up Callum’s spine, and he clenched his hand into a fist.

Is Drustan a threat?

But when he reached his second-in-command, it was to find that the man had closed his eyes and was tapping one finger against his plaid as if he listened to the music. His shoulder had dropped so it was even with the other one.

“Drustan,” Callum said.

Drustan opened his eyes and looked at him. “Laird.”

“Are you well?”

He nodded. “I like the music. The rhythm…settles me.”

Callum peered in the direction Drustan had been staring. Maggie wasn’t there. He scanned the dance floor, and relief soared through him when he saw her dancing with Gregor.

He was seeing a problem where there wasn’t one. Returning his gaze to Drustan, he found his second-in-command had twisted his head to the side and was rubbing his nape. “Drustan!”

Drustan slowly looked at him.

“Is there something wrong with your neck?” he asked.

“It hurts.”

“Why?”

Drustan didn’t answer right away, then he said, “The horse. In the stable.”

“Did you get thrown?”

“No.” He closed his eyes. “I doona remember.”

Callum clenched his jaw, frustration getting the better of him. “Maybe you should go to bed. The rest might help. Doona worry about working tomorrow. Take a few days and get to your old self.”

“Aye. A rest will help.”

He turned away, and Callum saw Glynis watching them. When Drustan headed to the arched exit, she set a course to intercept him.

Callum scowled. “Drustan!” he called out for a third time.

The man turned around, his eyes more focused this time, looking stronger—more like his old self. “What is it, Laird?”

Callum closed the distance between them and lowered his voice. “I have to ask. Are you tupping Glynis?”

Drustan’s spine went rigid, his jaw set in a hard line. “What business is it of yours?”

“She’s my cousin’s wife. And as her laird, she’s under my protection. People know, Drustan. Keith knows. What were you thinking, getting involved with her? She’s married.”

“You think I’m the first man to tup a married woman? Especially one who makes herself available?”

“Of course not, but—”

“Your father did it. For years. Even when your mother was alive. Couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”

Callum stared at Drustan, barely recognizing him from just a few moments ago. Anger had transformed his face. “I know Aileen is my sister—”

“I’m not talking about Aileen. I’m talking about Glynis.”

The blood drained from Callum’s head, leaving him weak. “Glynis is my sister too?”

“Nay. I meant your father tupped Glynis—for years. Why do you think she lives in the castle?”

A coldness shivered over Callum’s skin and filled his body. “She’s married to Keith.”

“And before that, she lived in another village and your father visited her there. She was a young, unmarried woman then, who’d caught the attention of a powerful laird. Who do you think convinced her to marry Keith?”

Callum’s stomach churned like dirty, debris-filled rapids, and he could barely crack his jaw to speak. “So you took up with her after my father died? You used her too?”

Drustan’s eyes clashed with his before Drustan looked away. He rubbed a hand over his neck, as if trying to massage his pain away. “Not right away, but…aye.”

“Drustan, you have to stop.”

“I have stopped. Before we left for Laird MacKay’s. And I doona plan to resume the affair.” His shoulders tightened, and he turned away from Callum. “May I leave?”

“Aye, just…be careful. Maggie believes that Glynis cut the rope that held up the rocks. She has no proof, just suspicions, and I doona believe Glynis could have made it there in time, but still…please be wary.”

Drustan shrugged. “I know naught of that.”

“You were underneath. You almost died. Or do you not care?” Callum asked.

A bleak look crossed Drustan’s face. “Nay. I doona think I do.”