Highland Magic (46 page)

Callum silently took hold of his wife’s hand
and placed it over his heart. He looked at her and she turned to
look at him as well. No words were spoken, but in the look, much
understanding passed between them. His was of grieved remorse and
hers was filled with gentle forgiveness.

“I wonder,” Branwenn said at last, turning
her gaze once more on Reys. “Gaiallard...” She cleared her throat.
“Does the tale also include a freckle, mayhap?”

“If ‘tis a certain freckle upon yourself of
which you speak,” Alyson interjected, “Gaiallard was told of it by
the lady’s maid who helped us dress each eve. He came into my
chamber while she was adorning my hair and they spoke of it. He was
not pleased to find out that you had such a blemish.”

Callum growled low in his throat.

Alyson looked at Callum. “I did try to tell
you about it that day in the glen—remember? But you would not allow
me to do so.” She dropped her hand from Reys’s and stepped toward
Branwenn. “Gaiallard and the maid were lovers, I believe,” she
whispered.

Callum put his arm around Branwenn’s
shoulder. “I was such a fool to listen to that bastard Norm—pardon,
Alyson—cur dog.”

Reys grasped Callum’s shoulder and gave it a
shake. “It all ended well. Finally,” he reminded.

Callum’s mouth tightened in a grim line, but
he nodded. “Aye. Finally. Praise be.”

Reys turned and helped Alyson mount her
palfrey. “We must make haste, if we are going to arrive at the inn
by sunset.” He turned back to Branwenn and opened his arms to
her.

She stepped into his embrace and held tight.
“When ever are we to see you again?”

“I know not, for our princely cousin is
fighting his kin and the marcher lords for dominion in Cambria.
‘Tis no secret that he wants to be king of all Pura Wallia.”

“Take care and send us word of how you fare.”
She looked up at Alyson. “And you as well.”

Alyson smiled and gave a brief nod of
consent.

Reys mounted his steed and the two of them
turned and left through the courtyard gate.

Callum and Branwenn stood
silently watching their departure. When the two travelers were out
of earshot, Callum turned his wife toward the rose garden. “Come,
I’ve something to show you.” They hadn’t gone more than three paces
forward when Callum suddenly halted and stood stock-still, his eyes
wide with wonder. He turned and placed his hands on top of her
shoulders. “Mai is
mine
! Yours and mine!”

Branwenn grinned. “I was wondering when you
were going to figure that out.” She poked him in the ribs. “It took
you long enough!”

“Why didn’t you tell me? That day in the
ruin? All this time, I’ve worried the babe was born too soon.”

Branwenn shrugged a bit sheepishly and dipped
her head. Her gaze settled on the center of his chest. “I suppose
‘twas just a wee bit of vengeance on my part.” She forced her eyes
up to his. “The things you said to me in those hours after the
joust—what you did! You broke my heart, Callum.” She turned and
continued walking toward the garden. “Besides, I had every
intention of telling you on the lass’s first birthday.”

Callum jogged to catch up.
“Her first
birthday
! You would have left me in the dark that long?”

She grinned at him, just to let him know she
was jesting. “Aye, for I know how you mighty warriors do love to
impress your ladies with your sharp wit—I simply wanted to give you
enough time to figure out the puzzle on your own.”

“For that, my dear, I should have the mason
take back the gift I had him make for you.”

Branwenn’s eyes widened and
there was a definite spark of glee in them now. “What gift do you
give me this time?” She didn’t wait for his response. Instead, she
hiked up her skirts and jogged through the arched doorway of the
garden—the only portion of the wall that had been finished thus
far. She skidded to a halt just inside the entry.
“
Callum!
‘Tis the
most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”

‘Twas a fountain. Set on a large circular
base, a mermaid and two young ones, each having the look of
Branwenn, Mai or Laire, were basking on a rock with waves crashing
all about them. The one that looked like Branwenn held up a large
sea shell, and from it bubbled forth frothy, burbling water.

She looked at him, grinning. “The mason can’t
have it back. ‘Tis mine.” She threw herself into his arms and
wrapped herself around him like a vise, attacking his mouth with
her own, and not giving him even a second to reply. A few long,
hot, steamy moments later, she lifted her head. “Standing up or
lying down?” she asked, her voice husky with need.

Callum’s breathing was harsh. “Both.”

She nodded and kissed him again. After a
moment, she lifted her head once more and said anxiously, “I’m
sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I still had some doubt that
you’d believe me.”

“How can I blame you for feeling such? And
I’m sorry, too. For everything. I love you.”

“Good. Me too.”

Callum moved his palm to the back of her head
and pressed down, groaning low in his throat as he took possession
of her lips, ripping at the ties to his braies at the same
time.

They stayed in the garden the remainder of
the morning. Fortunately, no one disturbed them.

* * *

The Maclean Fortress

Hogmanay, 1206

“Another year gone! Alas,
where does the time go?” Lady Maclean said, shaking her head as she
stood with Maryn’s father, Laird
Lachlan
Donald and his new bride, Marguerite de Bussey watching the
flames lick higher and higher up the dried wood of the
bonfire.

Laird Donald took hold of his lady’s hand and
brought it up to his lips. “Aye, but this year’s been a wondrous
one,” he said, gazing lovingly into his bride’s eyes.

Laird Donald, always a rather portly,
agreeable sort, had noticeably added a pound or two since last Lady
Maclean had seen him. And no wonder! For ‘twas rumored the lady he
wed had been chef to a Frankish duke at one time. And all who knew
the laird were fondly aware of his healthy appetite. Aye, ‘twas a
good match.

Branwenn ran up to them laughing, her cheeks
hectic with color, with Callum close behind and in much the same
state. When she stopped short in an effort not to plow into
Marguerite, Callum grabbed her up and twirled her around. “Now I’ve
got you, my wee faery sprite!”

Branwenn shrieked. “Put me down! I’m growing
dizzy.”

The older folk chuckled at the young couple’s
antics.

Bao and Jesslyn strolled up. Jesslyn settled
her hand over the small bump that was a new babe growing in her
belly. “Just seeing the two of them twirling about in such a way
unsettles my stomach.” She covered her eyes with her hand. “Nay, I
cannot watch!”

Callum released his prize, setting her down
on her feet. But grabbed her again when she stumbled into his arms.
Then he kissed her.

Daniel and Maryn came from around the other
side of the bonfire and when he saw Callum mauling his wee sister,
he cleared his throat, loudly.

Callum cocked an eye open and grinned, but
continued kissing Branwenn another second, just to irritate his
cousin.

Just as he broke the kiss at last, a young
guard, with the devil in his eyes, by the name of Angus, and one
that Callum knew to be a knave with the lasses, trotted up to
Branwenn and took her hand. “Pray, dance with me again, as you have
done these past two annals.” He glanced at Callum. “I’m sure your
husband will bear the separation well enough.”

Branwenn tugged her hand from Angus’s and
swung her gaze to Callum’s, dread clear in her eyes. “Nay, my
thanks Angus, but I shall stay by my husband’s side, I think.”

Callum’s heart ached at the look. Still she
feared his swift reprisal, his unreasoned jealousy. After this
long. He lifted his fingers to her cheek and brushed a quick kiss
over her lips before saying, “Nay, go, my love. You enjoy the dance
so well, and you know ‘tis not my favorite pastime. I shall be here
upon your return.” He raised his gaze to Angus. “Dance at least
three with her, will you old friend?” He couldn’t help sending him
a wee glare of warning, however, even still, which Angus
acknowledged with a small nod and an up-tip of one side of his
mouth.

Daniel heard the exchange and stepped up
beside Callum, following his cousin’s line of vision as he watched
Branwenn and the young guard become part of the dancing throng.
“’Tis pleased I am to see you’ve learned to trust our Branwenn’s
heart is true.”

Callum nodded. “Aye, she’s no Lara.”

Daniel clapped him on the back and walked the
couple of steps back to where his wife was standing with Jesslyn
and Bao.

“Are you not feeling well?”
Maryn asked Jesslyn. She, herself, was nearing her delivery day.
‘Twould be by
Uphalieday
she was sure.

“Aye,” Jesslyn answered. “Tho’ my stomach is
churning a bit.”

Maryn lifted her gaze to her husband.
“Daniel, do you have a bit of ginger in your healer’s box that
Jesslyn might take to ease her belly?”

Daniel glanced at Jesslyn and nodded. “I’ll
just go up to our chamber and get it for you.” He turned and strode
in that direction.

Callum was surprised—and
pleased more than he was willing to admit—when Branwenn rushed back
to his side after only one round with Angus. Her eyes, bright with
merriment, her face flushed with the heat of the dance, and her
smile glowing, she flew into his arms and hugged him tight. “My
thanks, husband, but ‘tis truth, I prefer to dance with
you!
”

Callum took hold of Branwenn’s hand and
pulled her further into the darkness of the bailey. When they’d
gone far enough away from the others so that they could no longer
hear their conversation, he pulled her into his arms once more and
kissed her. After a long moment, he lifted his lips a fraction and
said, “Let’s make another babe soon, all right?”

“All right.”

“Mayhap by the time of Laire’s second
birthday?” They’d been using the seed wool and paste these past two
moons since Branwenn’s flowering began again that the old woman in
the cot gave them. They had been assured it would work better than
the previous method Callum had employed to prevent conception.
‘Twas against the Church’s teaching, but he was pragmatic. ‘Twas
not safe for his wife to conceive so soon after childbed, and he
was damned if he’d give up their right to enjoy each other in the
meantime. And from the looks of things, his cousins must be of the
same mind.

“Aye.”

“Good. And this time I shall enjoy watching
you grow round with my child. I missed so much of that with
Mai.”

“Aye, but you helped birth her! Surely, that
was enough of a recompense for whatever lack you felt prior.”

Callum grinned. “Aye, and now that I know how
easily you shoot them out, I shall be part of that process from now
on.”

Branwenn snuggled closer into Callum’s
embrace. “Have you thought more of reconsidering the MacGregor
chieftainship? Chalmers seems set on you taking it after him. Why
ever did you decline it?”

Callum sighed. “Aye, I’ve thought on it.” He
tipped her chin up and studied her face a moment before saying,
“Last year, after I’d spurned you, I spurned the lairdship as well.
I thought, if I start afresh, I could rid myself of the ache of
losing you. ‘Twas when I started building the manor. But I soon
found that even in that, you were there. Always in my thoughts,
never far away.” He cradled her face in his palm and stroked the
rise of her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “’Twas not until I at
last let go of all my old beliefs, my old feelings, that I finally
could see with clearer sight. And now that our manor is finished,
and the grounds and outer buildings are well underway—now that I
have you, my love, and our bairns as well—I am able to contemplate
once more doing this thing; leading these men as my stepfather
believes I am able to do. Am the best man to do so, in fact.”

“Hey! Branwenn, Callum!” Alleck called.

The couple turned in the direction of the
lad’s voice. He’d grown by a good two or more inches since the last
time Callum had seen him, and he’d gained a bit of weight as well.
Clearly, he was enjoying paging at the Donald holding. He and
David—with Jasper at his heels—each had hold of one of their
cousin’s hands. David had hold of Nora’s, Maryn and Daniel’s
firstborn, and Alleck had hold of Bao Junior’s. Coming up behind,
the MacGregor nurse held Mai in her arms and had Laire’s hand
clasped in her own.

“Is it that time already?” Branwenn asked the
nurse.

“Aye, m’lady. ‘Tis nearing the chimes of
midnight.”

“I wonder who shall be our first footer this
year.” Branwenn sighed, reminded of two years past when ‘twas her
brother-germane, Reys, who’d stepped across their threshold and
changed Branwenn’s life for evermore. There was little chance it
would be him again this year, however, for he was truly entrenched
now in a campaign with their cousin. It could be years before she
saw him again.

Laire toddled over to
Callum and lifted her pudgy arms, in a bid to be picked up. Callum
gladly complied, giving her a loud
smack
ing kiss on the cheek as well.
Laire giggled and kissed him back the same way, before resting her
head on his shoulder and snuggling against his chest.

The nurse came up to stand next to her
mistress and Branwenn held out her arms in order to take Mai for
awhile. Her daughter was clearly groggy. “She’s been fed then?”

“Aye, and ready she is for sleep. But I knew
you wanted her out here with you for the end of the
festivities.”