Laird of the Mist (26 page)

Callum stood there naked but for his plaid wrapped around his waist, his face darkening with murderous intent. He didn’t know who to glower at first, so he glowered at all of them. Angus looked down the long hall, wondering how quickly he could get to the stairs and save his arse. Jamie backed up when Callum took a step forward.

“What the hell are all three of ye doin’ standin’ ootside my door?”

Brodie pushed himself off the wall and looked up and around like a dimwit who’d wandered into the hall and found himself lost.

Jamie cleared his throat. “Graham sent me to give ye the news.”

“What news?” When Jamie told him, Callum still wasn’t satisfied. “And it took all of ye to tell me this?” The slight smirk on Brodie’s face told him the truth of it. He and Angus had followed hoping to see Jamie get thrashed for disturbing their laird.

The menacing glint in Callum’s eyes when he set them back on Jamie froze the lad’s blood. “Ye thought the MacLeod’s visit was important enough to trouble me with it?”

“Aye, my apologies.” Jamie bowed his head. “Angus and Brodie told me I shouldna do it.” When he felt a brisk slap on the back, he looked up.

Callum nodded at him. “Ye were right to tell me. Ye’re a braw lad. That’s why yer brother sent ye, and no’ either one of these sorry excuses fer men.”

Brodie knew enough to keep his mouth shut. Besides, his blood-rusted sword spoke well enough about his bravery in battle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Angus bristled. “I was ready to break the bloody door doun to give ye the news.”

“Then ye must be sadly disappointed that I opened it, Angus.” Callum tossed him a foul grin. “Meet me ootdoors after ye break fast and ye can prove to me that ye can still lift yer sword.”

“We’ve already finished supper, Callum,” Brodie informed him without shielding his smirk. “A quick glance oot the window woulda told ye that if ye cared to look.”

“Shut up, Brodie,” Callum ordered.

Angus sputtered for a good five breaths after Callum strolled down the hall and disappeared inside the garde-robe. Brodie whacked him on the back to induce breathing. “Best go practice, cousin.” He grinned, winked, and exited the hall with Jamie, leaving Angus there alone to rifle through the folds of his plaid for his pouch of brew.

When Callum left the garderobe, he found yet another one of his men waiting for him. Graham leaned against the opposite wall with his arms folded across his chest. The cool scent of fresh air drifting off him attested to his recent return to the castle.

“’Tis good to see ye among the living,” the commander said with a casual smile.

“’Tis good to know I was missed.”

“Ye weren’t. Kate was.”

Callum nodded and then had to smile as he headed back to his chambers. What a pack of miserably ruthless bastards he had saddled himself with. God’s blood, he was fortunate, indeed.

“Jamie gave ye the news about the MacLeod?” Graham came up beside him.

“Aye. When is he comin’?”

“He’ll be arriving on the morrow. But there’s another matter of more urgency to discuss. A band of Campbells was seen in Glengarry.”

Callum’s steps halted. “How long ago?”

“Two days.”

“How many?”

“Forty, mayhap fifty horsemen.”

“Send William and a dozen of his best fighters to scout the coast, and I want Rob and twenty others in Glenelg by nightfall. I want to know where the Campbells are. I want to know their every move.” When he reached the door to his chamber, Graham held back. “Come,” Callum invited him inside. “There is one other thing I wish to discuss with you.”

Graham entered the room, lowering his gaze when Kate, still lying in bed, bare as the day she was born, yanked the fur blanket up to her chin. She glared at Callum, but he only winked at her.

Shaking her head at the callous brute, Kate cursed under her breath and sank deeper under the covers. She peeked out at Graham while Callum dressed.

My, but the commander looked especially comely today, she thought, admiring him from her bed. He wore a white wide-sleeved tunic beneath his plaid, and his kidskin boots were scrubbed clean of mud. She particularly liked the way he donned his cap backward, with the brim behind his head rather than on the side of it, his spray of burnished curls peeking out at his nape.

Graham caught her admiration of him and tossed her a smile she was sure felled many hearts.

“Are ye both done?” Callum yanked his plaid off his waist and dashed it to the ground, then reached for a fresh tunic.

Graham and Kate looked at Callum at the same time. The commander cleared his throat and picked an imaginary mote of lint off his plaid.

“Callum, Graham is comely, but surely his buttocks are not as well formed as yours.” Kate blinked her long black lashes at Callum so innocently, he swore he saw a halo hovering over her head. That is, after he finished blushing a dark shade of crimson. He snatched up his plaid again and tossed it swiftly over his form.

“Kate, I dinna think ’tis proper to speak that way in front of Graham, especially if ye’re to be my wife.”

She popped her head out fully from under the blanket. “Your wife?”

“Aye.” He turned to Graham. “Send fer Faither Lachlan. Last I heard, he was in Moray.”

“Ye have my blessing.” Graham was happy to hear such news and smiled at Kate again.

“We’re goin’ to need it,” Callum mumbled. “And quit starin’ at her.”

“Just a moment, please,” Kate said from the bed. “I don’t remember being asked.”

“Asked?” Callum barely looked up from securing his plaid.

“Aye, asked,” Kate repeated stubbornly. It was difficult to challenge him on this issue, especially since she wanted to leap out of the bed and fling herself in his arms. But hell, the man was too arrogant for his own good. “I will not be
told
who I am to marry.”

Now he set his eyes on her and scowled for all he was worth. “You were willing to be
told
to marry Lord Mortimer of Newbury.”

Mortimer of Newbury! Kate almost slapped her thigh at the recollection of her imaginary betrothed’s name. And what was this? Callum knew it all along? The fact that he remembered the name with such clarity warmed her heart for some odd reason.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Kate blinked at him through dreamy eyes.

Callum glanced heavenward, then back to her. His jaw clenched, and beside him, Graham tried hard to conceal his grin. “Will ye be my wife, Kate?”

Graham slipped out of the room as Kate smiled, nodding her head, and Callum near sprang for the bed.

Callum did not meet Angus outdoors that eve, and the burly warrior was quite astounded to hear his battle-hardened laird’s laughter filling the great hall.

“I’d never be believin’ it if I didna see it wi’ me own eyes.” Angus pulled his head back from its spying position behind the thick curtain separating him from the hall. He snatched his pouch of brew from Brodie’s mouth, spilling a godawful amount on his cousin’s plaid and cursing in the process.

Brodie stepped around Angus’s bulky form and peered around the curtain while his cousin guzzled a long swig, covered his mouth, then belched.

Pulling back, Brodie offered him a look that said he was the biggest dimwit ever to wield a sword and he deserved to be killed for it. “What the hell are ye coverin’ yer mouth fer? He canna hear those swine sounds ye make over all that laughin’, ye drunken fool.”

Angus bristled, his broad shoulders stretching his plaid across his chest. “I was tryin’ to avoid freein’ me delicate breath in yer face.”

Brodie snorted. “The only thing delicate on ye, Angus, is yer swing.”

His neck near broke from the force of Angus’s enormous fist meeting his cheekbone. “Would that be what ye were meanin’ by delicate, eh, Brodie, ye son of a whore?”

His cousin merely shook the stars away from his eyes and then threw the full weight of his body upon Angus. They toppled over backward, taking the curtain with them when they crashed to the ground, already swinging.

Everyone in the hall craned their necks to see what the fuss was and then went right back to their conversations. Only Kate gaped and rose to her feet.

“Good Lord, they are going to kill each other! Callum, do something!” He looked at her like another head had just sprouted from her shoulder. “Are you simply going to sit there?” she demanded.

“Aye.” He nodded. When she folded her arms across her chest and glowered at him, he chuckled. “What would ye have me do, lass? They fight all the time. Dinna they, Graham?”

“Aye, they do,” his friend happily agreed.

Kate could not believe her ears. She had seen them tossing punches here and there while they rode to Skye, but this was preposterous! “Well, if you are not going to do anything about it, I will.” She hefted her skirts before Callum could grab her and pounded off toward the two men hammering each other into the rushes.

“Stop it this instant!” she shouted at them. When that failed, she bent neatly and slapped Brodie, since he was on top, across the back of the head.

Behind her, a collective gasp rang out from the inhabitants of Camlochlin while Callum, Graham, and Jamie leaped over tables to get to her before she found her own face embedded to the back of her head.

“She’s a damn braw lass to put her hands to Brodie!” someone whispered, astonished.

“Aye, I heard she stabbed our own laird in the leg when first they met,” said another.

“I heard the laird is takin’ her fer a wife.”

“A fittin’ choice fer a MacGregor, I’d wager.”

Before Callum reached her, Kate had Brodie up on his feet, his ear painfully pinched between her thumb and index finger. “That. Is. Enough!” She emphasized each word with another harsh tug. “And you, Angus. Get up immediately so that I can get a hold of you.”

The massive MacGregor lifted his head off the floor and turned it toward Callum. His laird’s pitiless gaze told him to do as he was ordered.

When Kate held both men firmly by their ears, she stomped her foot. “This fighting will cease. Do you hear me?” She shook both hands while she made her demand, rattling their heads. “If you both enjoy fighting so much, mayhap a bit more training will do you some good.” Immediately, Angus’s worried eyes darted to Callum. “If I see you hitting each other again, you will have to come outside and wield your swords against me.”

Every jaw in the great hall dropped. “Ye?” Angus looked mildly ill.

“I dinna train wi’ women,” Brodie drawled, then yelped when she tugged his lobe nearly off his head.

“Well, you will with me, Brodie MacGregor. Won’t he, Callum?”

“Nae,” Callum informed her sternly.

Kate’s head snapped around with such force her hair fanned across her face. She regarded Callum with a look he had never seen on her before, and one he would not want to see her wearing while she was wielding a weapon.

“Aye?” he amended.

She nodded coolly and then turned her attention back to his newly tamed cousins.

“Did you both hear that? Your laird has commanded you to fight with me the next time you feel like tossing your fists.” She released them, slapped her hands together, and turned crisply on her heel.

The crowd behind her took a unified step back, but each face wore a smile of respect. Kate’s heart leapt. If she’d known that slapping a few of their most ruthless warriors around would win her their favor, she would have done the like sooner.

Chapter Thirty-Four

K
ATE LEANED OUT THE WINDOW
to steal a glimpse of their guest before actually meeting him. It was the first time in her life she had ever received anyone of import at her home. It was the first time she had received anyone
at all,
for that matter, save for her uncle and his guard. Her heart raced and her cheeks flushed with worry. What if the MacLeod did not like her because she was a Campbell? Would he consider her a Lowlander? She had learned from almost everyone living in the castle that most Campbells were considered Lowlanders. And no Lowlander was deemed worth his weight in spit. Keddy the cook even went so far as to say Lowlanders were as bad as the English. And Rabbie the tanner called them Protestant whoresons. Kate squeaked with apprehension and patted her cheek with her palm. She looked down at the dozen or so men whose horses clopped up right to the doors.

She chewed her bottom lip while she regarded the lead rider, uncertain, by the looks of him, if he was a bear or a man. He wore a thick fur overcoat of sable brown, which matched his long hair. He was not altogether feral, though. For when he saw Graham, his smile was like a ray of light piercing the gloom. Still, Kate gulped when he dismounted and threw his tree-trunk-sized arms around Callum’s commander. Whether gentle man or savage, Donald MacLeod was enormous.

Callum came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. “What worries ye, lass?”

“Him wanting me dead worries me.” She wrung her hands together. “Did you see the size of him, Callum? Why, he’s bigger than you! I’d say one—”

Callum leaned down and captured the remainder of her words with a slow, sensual kiss. Her body relaxed in his arms. “He’ll no’ want ye dead,” he promised when he withdrew. “Donald MacLeod is one of the finest lairds I know. He took Maggie and me in when we escaped yer grandfaither’s dungeon. He fed us and clothed us, and then he allowed me to build Camlochlin on his land.” Callum released her and moved to the window. “D’ye know the risk he took fer me, Katie? He convinced his clan to live with MacGregors, and no’ one of them has ever uttered a word that we dwell here. It’s his men as well as the MacKinnons who patrol the shores of this isle, aidin’ in keepin’ us safe.” He reached for her again and kissed her brow, speaking there. “Dinna be frightened of him. He and his sons are good men.”

Kate nodded, keeping the remainder of her worries silent, and followed Callum out of the room.

She almost hightailed it back up the stairs when, reaching the bottom, the great beast of a man lifted his charcoal gaze, and then the rest of his body from where it bent to Maggie, and bellowed. “When are ye goin’ to teach yer sister how to speak like a proper Highlander?”