“In Glen Orchy, my laird.”
“Och, what in blazes was Callum doin’ in Glen Orchy? Was he warrin’ wi’ the Campbells again?”
Before Kate answered, Callum returned to the table. “Kate, Maggie asks that ye meet her in Netta’s chambers.”
“Of course.” Kate rose from her chair, grateful to be leaving. “I will go right away.”
Callum’s gaze lingered on her as she raced up the stairs.
“Ye love her,” Donald announced, unable to believe what was quite clear to see with is own eyes. When Callum turned to him and nodded, Donald raised his cup to his lips to drink. “’Tis aboot time is what I say, lad. Mayhap now ye’ll find some peace and quit tryin’ to kill every damned Campbell who crosses yer path.”
“Mayhap,” Callum allowed, taking Kate’s seat opposite Donald. “Since she’s a Campbell, and I dinna want to kill her.”
Donald MacLeod sprayed his brew where it belonged after such an announcement—across the room. “What?” he bellowed, wiping his mouth. “Och, saints be wi’ me and tell me I heard ye wrong. She’s a what?”
“A Campbell.”
Donald rolled his head back and shook it at the heavens. When he thought he had gathered enough wits to continue, he returned his stunned gaze to Callum. “Jesus and Mary, a Campbell. Ye fell in love wi’ a Campbell.”
“Aye, the Duke of Argyll’s niece.” That sobered the MacLeod well enough. Callum waited patiently while his friend choked out a few unintelligible sounds. When he deemed it safe to continue, he motioned for Lizabeth to bring the laird more whiskey. “I had planned to hold her fer ransom and make Argyll come to me.”
“Which is exactly what he’s doin’.” MacLeod dropped his head in his hands and sighed.
“Aye,” Callum agreed. “I expected him to come fer her. But I didna expect her to hold my heart the way she does.” Callum downed his brew, then peered at Donald’s bent head. “I willna let her go. I wanted this to end with Argyll, but her brother will be her guardian in accordance with English law when their uncle is dead. He may come against me, but I willna let her go.”
Lifting his eyes to the lad he had come to love like a son, Donald sighed and then nodded. “Ye willna have to. I know I claimed I’d never get involved wi’ yer war, but the MacLeods will stand at yer side if any army comes against ye.”
“Nae, Donald. I’ll take care of this myself. I promised no’ to harm her brother, and if I’m right aboot him, I may no’ have to. Just tell me where Argyll is. He is the one I want.”
“We dinna know. He reached Glengarry and turned east.”
Callum was still taking in that bit of information when Jamie burst into the great hall, his whiskerless face flush with excitement.
“There’s a new MacGregor in Camlochlin!” he shouted. He cut a path to a table, snatched a tankard of brew from Alasdair MacLeod’s hand, quaffed its entire contents, then swooned on his feet for a moment. He blinked and found Callum standing before him. Feeling a belch of immense proportions rising within his innards, Jamie fought to contain it, not wanting to do the like against his laird’s chest. He paled considerably in the process, swooned again, then grinned up into Callum’s face. “Brodie has himself a son.”
“A son!” Callum turned and called out to everyone in the hall. “May the Lord bless the lad.” The hall erupted into cheers of good wishes, and more kegs were opened. “And Netta?” Callum asked Graham’s already inebriated brother.
“She does well. Aileen and Murron are with her. ’Tis Brodie who’ll need lookin’ after. I vow I saw tears in his eyes.”
Callum looked around the hall and lifted his cup to Donald MacLeod. “Another MacGregor!” he called out. “And if I have my way, there will be many more to come.”
The MacLeod chieftain laughed while Callum turned his attention back to Jamie. “Tell Kate to bring the babe doun so we can have a look at him.”
Jamie hiccupped, then blinked to better focus on Callum. “Kate’s no’ with Netta.”
Now Callum turned to face him fully. “Aye, she is. Maggie sent fer her.”
Jamie shook his head. “Maggie’s no’ there, either. She wanted to go to the barn, but I told her to wait doun here fer me.”
Callum dashed out of the hall and was outside the castle before anyone had time to follow him. Please, God, let them be in the barn, he beseeched. Hell, Maggie knew better than to leave the castle without Jamie. “Kate!” His voice exploded into a roar that echoed off the wall of black rock behind him. He did not wait for an answer but raced toward the barn.
When he reached it, he heard the sound of women’s laughter. He thanked God silently before plunging inside. Kate sat with her legs curled beneath her in the hay, with Maggie lying beside her. Both women looked up, and when they saw him, Kate lifted her hand to her mouth, fearing the worst by the looks of him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “What has happened?”
Callum leaned against the wall, certain that his legs would not hold him up if he didn’t. He ran both hands down his ashen face and then, in the time it took Kate to blink, stood towering over them both.
“What the hell are ye doin’ in here?” Though he shouted, his voice was laden with emotion. “Ye must tell me when ye wander off.” Kate rose to her feet while he turned to his sister. “Maggie, blast ye! How many times must I tell ye to . . .” His words faded into a tight groan when Kate touched her fingertips to his jaw.
