Page 13 of Reviving Her Highland Spirit

What are ye doing, Callum? What purpose does this serve?

I want tae help her.

Why?

Because she needs help.

And ye think that is a good enough reason? Remember who she is. The McAlisters are bloodthirsty thieves, with no honor or sense of justice. Ye cannot help people like that. Ye have a good heart, lad, but it’ll get ye killed if ye don’t put a bridle on it.

So, Callum forced himself to keep silent, and stopped himself from trying to convince Lady Maggie to meet him the next morning. Then, just as abruptly as before, she turned on her heel and began to walk away, leaving him standing in the middle of the field. It wasn’t the dismissal that Callum had expected, and for a minute or two, he stood where he was, dumbfounded.

It was soon clear that she wasn’t coming back. Would she meet him tomorrow? Callum had no idea.

He turned with a sigh to where Stardust was tethered. He felt bad for the poor horse, getting taken out of her stall and saddled up as if she were going for a ride, only to stand in a field for half an hour. Stableboys weren’t permitted to ride the horses for exercise, so Callum had no choice but to return her.

He was leading Stardust back to the stable, when someone called his name. He recognized the voice at once and stiffened.

Robert. Wretched Robert, the youngest of the grooms, and the most bone-headed man Callum had ever met. He stopped reluctantly, turning to face him.

Robert was striding across the grass towards him, ruddy face flushed with exercise.

“Did ye no hear me calling?” he said waspishly.

“Only just now.”

“Was that Lady Maggie I saw just now?” Robert’s small, shrewd eyes took in Callum’s disheveled appearance, landing squarely on Stardust. “That’s her ladyship’s horse.”

“Aye, I know.”

“Why do ye have her out? Why was she here?”

Callum bit his lip. Why should he have to lie? It would only look odd if he lied.

“Lady Maggie wanted a go at riding again.”

Robert gave a snort. “And how did that go?”

“Quite well,” Callum said bluntly. He deliberately didn’t volunteer any more details, and Robert’s face fell, setting into its usual sour expression.

“This is for you,” Robert said abruptly, shoving a battered, stained envelope at him. “I don’t appreciate delivering your letters for ye, Callum. See that it doesn’t happen again.”

Callum was about to retort that he had no say who was tasked with delivering his letters from the post box, but his mouth dried up when he saw the seal.

It was a seal of heavy red wax, with no pattern marring the smooth surface. No doubt the wax seal - which was usually favored by rich men and lairds - was why the letter had been delivered by hand, rather than left to wither in a box until Callum took it into his mind to check.

He didn’t need to look at the contents or identify the handwriting. Only one person knew he was here at the keep, and that was the same person who used heavy wax seals like this. Callum glanced up and caught Robert watching him with barely disguised curiosity.

“Aren’t ye going tae open it?” Robert asked.

Callum stuffed the letter in a pocket. He knew more or less what it would say. It would be short, terse, and to the point. Not so much of a letter as a summons. Callum’s heart began to beat faster.

“Later,” he said lightly. “For now, I’ll need tae put Stardust away.”

Robert’s face fell, disappointed. “Right. Well, when ye are done, report back tae me. I’ve got plenty o’ work for ye tae be getting on with.”

Without waiting for a reply, Robert turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving Callum to fret and stew alone.

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