Before he could say a word, he heard Marguerite moan in her sleep. She clenched the sheets, murmuring words in French that he didn’t understand. And when he tried to awaken her by touching her cheek, her eyes flew open.
She sat up and gripped him hard, still shaking from the nightmare. Callum held her tight, stroking her hair to soothe her.
It’s all right. I’m here.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was dreaming about the tower and the fire that night. I dreamed I couldn’t get out.” Her face rested against his neck, and he kissed her hair, moving his mouth lower to console her in the only way he knew how.
She drew back, closing her eyes, and lifted her mouth to his. Before he could taste her lips, the door swung open, and Alex entered. His brother’s face darkened with misunderstanding, as if he thought Callum was trying to dishonor Marguerite.
“Get away from her, Callum,” Alex warned.
At the sudden sound, Bram woke up from his place on the floor and stood. “Leave them,” he said, stretching. “She calms him.”
“Did he hurt you?” Alex asked Lady Marguerite. She shook her head, her face turning dark red.
“I should go,” she murmured. “I never meant to fall asleep.” Embarrassed, she fled the room.
Callum stared at his brothers, needing to tell them what he’d seen. He pointed toward the window, trying to signal to them, but they didn’t understand.
He saw in their eyes that they believed he’d gone mad, as if he weren’t aware of what was going on.
“Did he sleep at all last night?” Alex asked Bram.
“He was restless, but Marguerite kept him from lashing out.”
“We should keep her close, then, if she’s able to get through to him.”
Callum’s temper exploded. He moved between the men, grabbing each of his brothers by the shoulder.
Look at me. I hear your words. I understand them.
But not a single sound came, despite his mouth moving. Frustration clawed at him, that he was unable to communicate anything at all. He grabbed Bram’s tunic and hauled him toward the window, pointing outside once again.
“There’s nothing out there,” Bram said. “You’re safe now.”
He didn’t believe it. And they were fools if they did.
Alex poured a cup of wine into a goblet and handed it to him. “Have something to drink. Whatever it is, we’ll look in the morning.”
He drank the wine, and too late, tasted the bitter herbs within it. Staring at his brother’s betrayal, he wondered what they’d done to him.
“It will help you sleep,” Alex said. “You need rest to regain your strength.”
Despite his efforts to fight it, the heavy narcotic effects of the herbs pulled him under. And as he slipped into the dark dream, he inhaled the scent of Marguerite upon the sheets.
Callum awakened with his mouth dry and the aftertaste of the herbal brew lingered. Though his back still hurt from the lash marks, he struggled to open his eyes. He overheard Bram’s wife Nairna talking to her husband and caught the last few words of his brother’s conversation.
“I don’t know if he’s even aware of where he is.”
Callum gritted his teeth. He knew exactly where he was, and yet no one trusted him. He struggled to rise from the bed, thankful that Alex and Bram were focused upon Nairna instead of himself.
“When I was out walking this morning, I saw a torch light in the hills,” the young woman said. “Do you think any of Lord Harkirk’s men might have followed us?”
No doubt of it. From the flickering torches he’d seen, it was impossible to tell how many men there were.
“I’ll inform the men,” Alex replied. “If it is an attack, send a runner to Locharr and alert the Baron that we may need his help.” He turned to Nairna. “Tell Laren—“
“She’s already gathering the women and children.”
