“Why?” It was all Kate trusted herself to say. Her throat ached from the burden of smothering her sobs.
He turned back to the window and folded his hands behind his back. “I dinna need to give ye a reason.”
“I want one!” she shouted at him. That her shout sounded more like a withered screech did not surprise her. Her head exploded with the aftereffects of Gillis’s brew, and her heart ached to leap from her chest and into Callum’s arms.
“Verra well, Kate. I’m weary of ye. I admit ’twas curious to have a Campbell in my midst that I didna want to kill. But I realize now that I canna . . .” He paused and closed his eyes, then gritted his teeth. “I canna stand the sight of ye. Leave my bed. Leave my castle. I dinna want ye here anymore.”
Callum thought she would weep. He prepared himself for it. She loved him, ’twas obvious by the way she looked at him, spoke to him. She lit up like a brilliant morning sky when he entered a room, and he had just stomped the light out. He expected her to weep, to carry on the way a woman would. But when she rose from his bed and left him without a word to wither her dignity, he clenched his teeth to stop himself from shouting her name and ordering her to come back to him.
Kate ran directly to the garderobe, where she promptly expelled what was left in her stomach. Callum’s cruel words echoed mercilessly through her mind. Over and over again she was forced to relive his rebuke. He had stood by that window like a warlord cast in stone, his back set straight like an arrow. God help her, but she understood why he hated her so. She did not blame him. She had hated the MacGregors, and she had not gone through one day of torture. He had every right to throw her out of Camlochlin. He had told her from the beginning that he would return her to her brother. She knew he could never love her, but she thought . . . She had hoped . . . Nae, she wept. It was her own fault for falling in love with him, for loving his home, and aye, she would declare proudly, his kin.
To Graham, who stood on the other side of the garde-robe door, Kate sounded anything but proud. His heart wrenched at the rawness of her sobs, and for the first time in all the years he had known his dearest friend, he cursed the terrible beast who did this to her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
KATE SPENT THE MORNING of her expulsion from Camlochlin alone. She refused Graham’s offer to speak with Callum about his decision for her to leave. She didn’t answer when Maggie knocked at her door, pleading with her to eat something. Kate didn’t want food. She wanted to be someone else. She wanted to be a MacGregor. His woman, his love. But Callum had no love to give her. He seemed at times to be made only of hatred and anger. But there was more to him, she knew. There was humor and tenderness, and passion. A man whose eyes fired with pride and purpose when he spoke his name. A champion to his sister, and to her.
God, she didn’t want to leave and never see his face again.
But she had pride, also, and she sat up finally and wiped her eyes. She would not spend her last day with this proud clan weeping with self-pity. She would let them know that not all Campbells were afraid to face their fate.
Callum stood on the battlements an hour later, heedless of the cold air blowing off Sgurr Na Stri. His eyes fastened on the woman in the training field with Jamie below, bracing her body as she slipped an arrow into its bow. She aimed, mindless of the satiny tendrils blowing across her face, and let the arrow fly. Callum’s lips lifted into a slight smile of victory on her behalf.
He heard Graham’s footfalls behind him long before the commander reached him. He did not turn around, nor did he take his eyes off Kate when Graham cleared his throat to announce his presence.
Reaching him, Graham leaned his elbows on the wall and followed Callum’s gaze. “Brodie said ye changed yer mind about hunting this morn.”
“Aye.”
When Callum said nothing more and continued to watch Kate, Graham exhaled a slight sigh. “Yer eyes are verra telling, brother. Why do ye send her away when ye do not want her to go?”
“She’s a Campbell.” Callum slid his gaze to Graham for a moment before returning it to Kate. “She doesna belong here.”
“That may be so, but it is not the reason you do this,” Graham argued. “Are ye in love with her, Callum?”
“Nae.”
“Aye, that’s good to know.” Graham gave him a pat on the back while he let his gaze rove over the woman below. “Because she’s quite bonny and were it me, I’d not be able to think of anything but her in her betrothed’s bed.”
Callum whirled around and stormed away from him. Graham heard the furious pacing behind him and smiled. Callum did care for the lass. Why, he was as jealous as a squire who just found his milkmaid in the hay with someone else. The commander decided to use that jealousy to convince his friend how foolish he was being. “I hope fer her sake her husband is not old. Someone as braw as she deserves a man who can satisfy her spirited appetite.”
“What d’ye want, Graham?” Callum clenched his teeth at Graham’s back.
“Want?” Graham turned and offered him an innocent shrug. “I want her to be happy. I like her. I pray to the saints the bastard does not beat her.”
Callum’s glacial glare was enough to make Graham clamp his mouth shut. “I know what yer thinkin’, Graham. But I dinna love her, so cease yer games with me. She’s a Campbell, my enemy, and she belongs with her kin.”
“She is not yer enemy, Callum. She’s in love with ye,” Graham insisted quietly, more serious now.
“Then she’s a fool!” Callum’s voice exploded into a thunderous roar.
Ah, Graham thought, understanding finally. “Yer heart is set on protecting her, but think. She is in love with you. She is no longer safe anywhere but beside you.”
Callum shook his head, refusing to be moved. “She knows the law. She will ferget me soon enough.”
Graham held his palm up in surrender. “Verra well, then.” He’d had enough and pushed himself off the wall. “I do not know who ye are anymore, if there’s even a heart in ye left to save. But hear me, Callum MacGregor, if there be any part of ye that’s still human.” At his words, Callum blinked as though he’d been struck. “I’ll have no part in delivering her into the hands of her uncle. And I’ll pray that when she’s returned she will have the sense to keep her true feelings silent. But fer hell’s sake, look at her!” He set his eyes on her, obeying his own command. “She’s as open and honest as a babe. They’ll know her heart the moment they speak yer name.”
“Then I must make certain her heart is against me.”
