I run my hands over the heather, idly feeling the scratch of it along my palms. “It’s weird to think she lived in that place. Lived withHamish.” I shudder.
He drops, stretching out beside me. “Indeed she did.”
I keep forgetting. Callum knew my mother when she was my age. Maybe even talked to her. Maybe even…liked her?
My insides revolt.
Nope.Not going there.
I clear my throat. “What was she like when she was younger?”
“You mean last month?” He winks.
“Right,” I say, “it was last month for you.”
“Janet certainly enjoyed life in the big house, but she didnae enjoy the affections of the laird. If you ken my meaning.”
I do get his meaning. And it’s a bit of a relief. That she was married to such an old man disturbs me. Hearing that it disturbed her too makes me feel a little sorry for young Janet.
“You mean she didn’t want to…” I fix my eyes on the clouds, wracking my brain for a historically appropriate way to phrase it.
But Callum gets my drift. “Aye. She didn’t want to. Or so we gathered.”
Thewepart of that gives me pause. The laird’s wife not sharing her husband’s bed would’ve been the talk of the servants. Before social media and twenty-four-hour news, it would’ve been the talk ofeverybody.
“Why did Donag hate her so much? I mean, I get that mymother is no picnic. But why did Donag hate her so much she’d want to send her to the future?”
“It’s to do with Donag’s husband, Gregor. He and your mum?—”
I roll my eyes.He and my mom. Naturally.
“I have an idea where this is going.”
“I’m afraid so. Not long after she was married, Janet had reason to come by the cottage?—”
“Wait.” An irrational surge of jealousy twists my belly. My mother at nineteen must’ve been gorgeous. Hell, she’s twice my age andstillgorgeous. And I know how she operates. If it’s male and breathing, she’ll toy with it.
I roll to my side, facing him, forcing my voice to stay even. “She came to see you at the cottage?”
“Me?” He scoffed. “’Twasn’t me she took a fancy to. Not once she set eyes on Gregor MacGregor. Donag’s husband.”
I recoil at that. “Ew. But he was—what?—in his thirties?”
“That’s often how it’s done.” He shakes his head, bemused, as if we’re discussing the peculiar habit of some rare species. “And, aye, Gregor was older, but he wasnaeold, not in the way the laird is. Gregor worked a plow all his life, and, well, the man was big. Like a giant. The first time Janet saw him, I’d swear her eyes popped wide as trenchers. She took up with him not long after.”
“While he was married to Donag?” I practically shout the words. I know my mother lacks a strong moral compass, but this is appalling.
Callum shrugs it off like he’s seen it all. Which he probably has. “Campbells believe they own everything, even people—particularly when it comes to clan MacGregor.Janet was no different. She wanted Gregor, and so she had him. Because she could.”
His eyes go distant. “I don’t believe Gregor saw it as any great hardship. She’s quite bonnie, your mother.”
My stomach churns. I mutter some response and roll onto my back, cringing. This is insane. Jealous of mymother. Over something that happened centuries ago.
But I should’ve known. Of course Callum found her attractive. Every man does. Janet could act like the meanest, coldest, most selfish and harebrained person of all time and men would probably ogle her more than ever.
I feel the tenderest touch along my jaw.
Callum is guiding my chin to look at him. He’s rolled onto his side now, lying even closer to me in the heather. “What’s this storm breaking across your lovely face?”
