Callum sat beside his father at the top table, looking out at the mass of people enjoying their dinner. Most were in high spirits. Rumors of a wedding had begun to spread and the people were glad as it would mean an end to the bitter feud with the MacKays. Callum seemed to be the only one not enjoying himself.
“Where’s Nessa?” the laird asked, prodding Callum in the side. “There’s a space there for her next to you.”
“She’s in her room.”
“What? Eating alone? Who does that?”
“She’s recovering from an injury, father.”
“An injury? How the devil did that happen?”
“We think outlaws attacked her.”
“Outlaws? Where? On our land?”
“She has no memory of what happened before she was found on the earthworks.”
“The earthworks? So she was almost here and they attacked? I will double the patrols. Can’t have outlaws reaching our walls. You’ve been looking after though, haven’t you my boy?”
Callum nodded.
“Good. Tomorrow morning I want you both in front of me. Is that clear?”
“I willnae marry her, father. I told you.”
“And I told you not to raise the subject again. You’re marrying her and you better get used to the idea. Do you think I married your mother for love? Nay, I married her to double our land without a drop of blood being shed. With this one union, the MacKays become our allies and you add a patch to the MacCleod quilt.”
“Love comes later,” Gillian added, taking her husband’s hand. “You have to work at that part.”
“It’s not about love,” Callum replied. “I dinnae want to ever marry a MacKay. Have you forgotten about Lachlan? Your brother’s son?”
“Eat your beef,” the laird said in a tone that clearly meant the conversation was over.
When the meal was done Callum found his way outside to the battlements. He stood looking out into the darkness, wondering how Moira was coping with the loss of her husband.
The shriek of her grief echoed around his head so loudly he didn’t notice his mother walking up behind him until she pressed a knife to his throat
“Callum,” she said, pulling the blade away. “It’s lucky I wasn’t sneaking in to attack. You’d have had your throat cut by now.”
“I might have welcomed it if it meant not having to marry against my will.”
She put the knife back into its soft pouch at her girdle. “What is it you have against marriage? Be honest. It’s more than her being a MacKay, isn’t it?”
“Truthfully?
“Aye.”
“I dinnae fain to leave a widow behind when I die in battle.”
“You might not die in battle. Have you considered that?”
He shook his head, picturing himself shuffling around the castle in his dotage. “What? Grow old and get deaf and half blind like Jarrod?”
For a moment his mother’s smile faded. “That was my father you speak of so flippantly.”
He saw how hurt she looked. “I apologize mother.”
She nodded. “There is no sin in growing old.”
