Highland Magic (15 page)

Callum couldn’t find his voice, so shocked
was he at the emotional pivots Bao was taking.

Bao turned and stormed into
his chamber and Callum followed, shutting the door behind him. “I
should have known,” Bao continued, “you’d not know the first thing
about pleasing a woman. You, with your pretty face and charming
ways, the ladies no doubt care little whether you work for their
pleasure or not!” He whirled around, facing Callum. “But, I will
tell you this now: That is not how it will be with
my sister
! You will be
gentle and kind to her, and never leave her wanting. Otherwise, I
will not aid you in your cause.”

Callum grinned. He’d aid him in his cause?
Wonderful. For, it hadn’t taken but a moment or two after his
initial words to Bao, for him to realize this might not be the best
person to ask for assistance. “‘Tis no problem, there,” he said, at
last finding his voice. He coughed into his fist and cleared his
throat. “I assure you.”

Bao actually threw his hands over his ears.
“Nay! I don’t want to hear it!”

‘Twas Callum’s turn to laugh now. “Worry not,
I have no intention of telling you more than that!” He sobered.
“But, you will help me to change her mind?”

Bao gave him a slow nod. A question in his
eye, he asked, “What reason does she give for her refusal?”

Callum crossed his arms over his chest. “She
says she will not put yet another clan—meaning my clan, the
MacGregors—in danger. I’ve tried to explain to her that we are
already involved in the plans to aid with a siege, should there be
one, but this has not appeased her. She’s got it in her head that
we will remain lovers”—he paused for the explosion those words
would engender, but, surprisingly, it never came—“until she returns
to the Maclean holding and then, if the worst happens, departs with
Gaiallard de Montfort for Cambria.”

Bao worked that out in his
own mind. He knew Branwenn very well and, though he had no doubt
that this reason she gave Callum played some part in her refusal of
his troth, there was something more behind it than that. Else, why
would she not remain his lover
after
returning to the Maclean
holding, if she was safe from harm? Suddenly, he knew. He just knew
what it was. And Callum, poor man, was clearly a bit lackwitted
where Branwenn was concerned. He watched Callum very carefully as
he said, “So...the two of you have spoken of your feelings for each
other?”

Callum’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
Bao watched the man’s adam’s apple rise and fall in the long column
of his neck as he swallowed hard before replying, “Uhh, not
exactly.”

That was it then. The lass wanted to know
Callum loved her before she wed him. ‘Twas as simple—and as
complicated—as that. Well, this was something Callum and Branwenn
needed to work out for themselves. He nodded. “Hmmm. Well. I’ll
talk to her on the morrow. Will that do?”

Callum’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Aye.
My thanks.” He turned and opened the door, as he was stepping
across the portal, Bao said, “Do not mistake my earlier amusement
as approval of continued physical relation between the two of you.
Branwenn sleeps in her own chamber this night. Understood?”

With a sharp nod, Callum closed the door
behind him and went back to his own room.

* * *

Bao’s worry was groundless, Callum discovered
quickly upon entering his room. For, his bed, and his chamber, were
empty of her.

He strode over and stood staring down at the
rumpled blankets, at the unexpected love-alter of his most vivid
contentment. He bent down and grabbed hold of the blankets and
tossed them back. Several red streaks, lovely curved brush strokes
of scarlet, made an abstract design on the white linen sheet. Proof
of her innocence. Proof of the gift she’d so generously bestowed
upon him.

He tore the sheet from the bed and reverently
held it up to his face a moment. Then, slowly, methodically, he
folded the material and walked over to the chest that held his most
prized possessions; his knight’s mail, his father’s knight’s ring,
and his grandfather Maclean’s badge. Lifting the lid, he gazed
inside a moment before gently laying the linen cloth atop the other
contents. ‘Twould go to the grave with him, he swore then.

* * *

Branwenn closed the door to
her chamber and leaned against it with a sigh. She’d been
surprised, when she scurried out of Callum’s bed a few moments ago,
by the soreness...down there. But, Lord, hadn’t the pleasure he’d
given her been worth the pain? Aye. Aye, aye, aye, aye,
aye
! She wondered when
they could do it again. Mayhap the morrow? After the chimes at
midnight had tolled? She wandered over to the washstand and lit
several candles. After undressing, she stood naked and looked down
at herself. A bit of her virgin’s blood still streaked her thighs.
She wet a cloth and shivered a bit at the coldness of it as she
cleansed herself.
“No man will want you
once he sees that mark of the devil you wear, ken me well.”
She forcefully ignored the oft-repeated words of
the drunken nurse who took care of her while Bao was away on
campaigns, but her gaze still skittered over the ugly mark on her
thigh, as it usually did, refusing to pause, as she continued her
ablutions. Her womanhood was quite tender, so it took a bit more
time to get that portion of herself clean.

Inside, she felt
so...different now. So complete. A woman, full-grown. And it had
been Callum who’d led her, oh so sweetly, oh so skillfully, over
that last hill in her journey from young lass to young lady. She
lifted her head and straightened, dropping the
water-and-blood-pinkened cloth into the washbowl. Mayhap—did
she
look
different as well? Her heart did a little flip in her chest.
She prayed not, for Bao and Daniel would surely spank her behind
and—she didn’t even want to think about what they’d do to Callum,
if they found out.

* * *

Laird Gordon’s nephew, David, arrived early
the next morn. Callum watched the lad as he settled on the stool
next to the hearth in the great hall, facing Callum’s
stepfather.

So, this was the page who’d given him the pig
offal. He was a bit lanky for his age, his legs longer than his
torso. And long arms as well. That would serve him well when he
became a warrior. His hair was the color of finely sanded oak. He
didn’t look familiar to Callum, which surprised him. He thought he
paid more attention to the lads who served his meals. He’d have to
be more careful in future.

As if the lad felt the weight of Callum’s
stare, he turned his head and looked at him briefly, before
returning his gaze to the older man sitting across from him.

The lad’s eyes were large and almond-shaped,
with brows, a bit darker than the hair on his head, that slashed in
a straight line over them. The shade of his eyes, Callum had
noticed immediately, was a stormy blue-gray.

* * *

Laird MacGregor glared long and hard at the
lad, not saying a word. Let’s see just how much mettle the wee one
had. For ‘twas not the fact that the bairn had not wanted to go out
on the glen that proved his cowardliness, ‘twas his lack of courage
in the face of pressure from the other pages that gave him pause.
For a lad must learn early to do the right thing—even if ‘twas
against the common opinion—if he’s to grow to be the best warrior
he can be.

“I’m only seven summers! Must you lock me in
the dungeon, Laird?” David said at last. He was never going to see
his mother again—or any of his friends—or his hunting dog, Jasper,
either. And this mean old man would no doubt put him away and give
him only gruel to eat for evermore, just because he did that thing
to the red-haired warrior now standing over by the buttery. He had
felt bad afterward, tho’, when he saw how red the man’s skin got on
his face. He’d just thought it wouldn’t taste good and the man
would make an amusing face and then all the pages would clap him on
the back for making them laugh real hard. He didn’t know he could
make the man sick with the pig stuff. And his mama had cried all
last night, saying that she’d not see her babe ever again, once the
MacGregor got his hands on him. Which made him remember that Lairds
liked to punish people by locking ‘em away in tower dungeons.

Laird MacGregor crossed his arms over his
chest and sat back a bit, peering down his nose at him. “And why
should that make a difference? The outcome of your deed was the
same for my stepson, whether the perpetrator was seven or
seventy.”

David’s shoulders
slumped.
Well, mayhap they’d at least let
him out after he was seventy.

* * *

Callum took mercy on the lad. “Nay, I think a
better punishment would be for him to be my personal page.”

David straightened on his stool and swiveled
his head around, giving Callum a look that held equal parts hope
and dread.

“He can sleep on the cot in the tower chamber
attached to my own bedchamber,” Callum continued, “and learn to
take care of my clothes and armor.” He pierced the lad with a sharp
gaze, saying, “But you will not be allowed to serve my meals until
you have proved your loyalty to me.”

The lad gave him a slow nod, “Aye, sir.”

His new page had a bit of the same nature as
Jesslyn’s lad, Alleck, Callum thought. Recalling his somewhat
strained relationship with that lad, he made the decision to begin
with this one in a better manner. “In the meantime, I’ve a
hankering for a game of knucklebones. Do you play?” This time, he’d
not win the games, as he’d done with Alleck. Time enough later to
use the game as a tool to teach. For now, let it be a bridge to, if
not friendship, then at least finding common ground.

The lad grinned then. “Aye, I play.”

* * *

An hour later, Callum was hard-pressed to
figure out who could teach whom the better strategy. The
long-limbed mite had the lithe fingers of a true expert.

He crossed his arms over his chest and
studied the lad as he made his next move. His brow was puckered in
concentration and his tongue was stuck out and tipped up at the
corner of his mouth.

This was the position that
Branwenn found the two in when she walked through the door of the
solar a second later. “
Oops!
My pardon. I knew not that anyone was in
here.”

Her eyes, while she’d
spoken, had traveled from the lad to Callum, to the lad, and then
finally settled on Callum. Her deep purple gaze warmed then,
heating his blood to boiling surprisingly quickly. Ahhh. She
remembered what they’d been about the last time they saw each
other—that was good. He rose from his stool and strode to stand in
front of her, their bodies only a whisper apart. “Good morn,
fey Mai
,” he teased,
giving her a crooked, smug smile, “how do you this fine day?” And
then, before she could answer, he realized something critical must
be learnt. “Are you very sore? Did I hurt you too
badly?”

Branwenn’s entire face and neck flushed a
fire-red scarlet in under a second. She shook her head nervously,
her head and eye darting quickly around his shoulder to look at the
lad, before returning to his...chin? She wouldn’t look him in the
eye. How adorable. “Nay...nay,” she whispered, “I’m fine, worry you
not.”

Lord, but she was so sweet. Without a clear
plan, Callum took her by her upper arm and, turning to David, said,
“Stay here, I’ll be back in a while,” before quickly hustling her
out of the chamber.

* * *

“Where are we going?”
Branwenn asked breathlessly. Would he make love to her
now
? In broad daylight?
With Grandmother Maclean, his mother, her brothers and Lord knew
who else wandering around the keep?

“Not far,” he said cryptically, leading her
down the hall and up to the next landing of the stair. He turned
and placed his hands under her arms and lifted her up and settled
her against the stone wall behind her before molding his own frame
to hers and kissing her lips, oh so softly. “I see you are back to
wearing this old rag of my mother’s,” he murmured against her lips
before taking the lower one between his teeth and rolling it back
and forth, gently tugging.

“Aye,” she managed to respond, though ‘twas
difficult, for her brain was now mush.

* * *

Callum’s tongue darted out and did a slow
glide over the lip he’d just been teasing. “Mmm. You taste so good.
Like raspberries. Did you have more of them this morn, then?” ‘Twas
driving him mad to know what lay beneath this oversized, drab gown
of hers and not be able to see, to feel, to taste, the bounty of
her. But ‘twas much too early to disappear with her. Bao had made
it clear, and no doubt Daniel would be of the same opinion, that
this affair could not continue before vows were spoken. Aye, they’d
skin him alive for sure if he flaunted his affair with their sister
in their faces—even with his sworn intention of wedding her. But
tonight, tonight he’d have her again, no matter their opinion. Nay,
he’d not enter her—‘twas much too soon for that type of contact,
but, there were other things he wished to do with her, to her that
were just as—if not more—enjoyable.

He nuzzled her cheek and trailed kisses down
her jaw to her neck, sucking and biting the soft, succulent skin as
he traveled.

* * *

Branwenn’s body was on fire. Her limbs were
weak and her womb ached for him to fill it, take her to heaven
again and again. “Callum, please,” she whimpered.

“Nay, not yet,” he whispered against her ear.
“But tonight. Tonight. Meet me in my chamber when the midnight bell
chimes.” He stroked his tongue around the shell of her ear before
taking the lobe into his mouth and gently suckling it.