Page 18 of Reviving Her Highland Spirit

“I remember, Rufus. They have tae die to put ye back in your rightful place, I know that.”

The words were as familiar as any old memory. Rufus had repeated them over and over to Callum when he was a child, like a nursery rhyme.

The McAlisters must die. Red Rufus must be Laird McAlister again.

“And that whore, Lyla McAlister,” Rufus murmured, his voice raspy with anger and hate. “Oh, she’ll suffer the most. I’ll see tae that. She’s a lying snake. She and her sister killed their father, ye know. Laird Murray. He was a friend o’ mine. I respected him.”

Callum nodded. “Aye, Rufus. It won’t be long now. I just need a wee bit more time. I have tae earn their trust, and it won’t happen overnight.”

Rufus pursed his lips. “Aye, I suppose so. But hurry, Callum. My destiny is so close I can almost touch it. I cannot be denied now. There are plenty who will support my cause. I have a rightful claim, and they know it.”

Callum frowned a little. Rufus had never mentioned anything about supporters. He knew Rufus was the rightful laird, he knew that, and he assumed that most other people knew that too. Surely the people would rise up when their proper laird showed himself?

That is naive, Callum, he scolded himself. Ye knew that this was never going tae be easy. It’s going to be a long, hard fight.

“What supporters?” Callum asked.

Rufus cast him a brief, disapproving glance. Callum flushed, looking down at his tea again. He’d forgotten how Rufus hated to be questioned. That keep was having more of an effect on him than he’d thought.

“None of your concern, Callum,” Rufus said shortly. “All be revealed when the time is right. In the meantime, ye must have something tae tell me. Have ye had no interactions with the McAlister family themselves? Even the smallest detail could mean something.

Lady Maggie immediately sprang to mind. Callum could feel her warm weight in his arms again, the way she’d sagged against his chest. He remembered how she’d told him he had no need to scrub the cobbles. He remembered how Robert’s face had fallen when Callum told him that - of course, Robert had arrived soon after Lady Maggie had left, to question why Callum wasn’t working on the pointless task he’d assigned - and how Robert had mumbled something and slunk away.

He remembered the determination and fear on Lady Maggie’s face, the admiration when she’d spoken of her cousin and Lady Lyla.

He should mention Maggie. After all, he’d made an arrangement to go out with her at dawn tomorrow. Wasn’t that something important to mention?

Callum shot a glance up at Rufus’ face. The older man’s face was drawn and intent. Hungry, somehow, with a flash in his eyes that somehow made Callum feel cold. For the first time, possibly ever, Callum found himself a little repelled by the man he’d called father.

He was immediately shocked at his own feelings. Hadn’t Rufus snatched him up from the battlefield, given him a home, and kept him safe? He’d fed him, clothed him, trained him, and prepared him to fight on his behalf, to restore Rufus to his rightful place - with Callum at his side, as his heir.

Ye are ungrateful, Callum scolded himself. Never forget why ye are at that cursed keep.

But he still didn’t want to tell Rufus about Maggie.

Callum cleared his throat, forcing himself to drink the last dregs of the bitter tea. It left a powerful aftertaste and made him feel a little queasy. He shouldn’t have drank it on an empty stomach, but Rufus showed no intention of eating any of the food Callum had brought.

“No,” Callum said finally. “I haven’t. I’m just a stable boy, Rufus. I need more time.”

Rufus sighed. “Very well. Ye can have more time, but be careful. We don’t have forever. Time is running out faster than ye might imagine.”

8

It was a cold morning. The sun was barely touching the horizon, a few streaks of orange and pink adorning the dark sky. There’d been a frost overnight, and Maggie’s footsteps crunched on the icy grass.

It was going to be a fine day. Well, as fine as a day could be up in the Highlands. They could expect weak sunlight later, and maybe even the wind would drop.

Another perfect riding day, Maggie thought and shivered. Stop it. Don’t think about riding.

What on earth did she think she was going to do, though?

She wasn’t entirely sure whether Callum would meet her at the stables or not. Maggie had had a full day to think over their conversation, and felt a little ashamed. She had no right to ask Callum to get up earlier - sacrificing some of his resting time - to help her learn to ride all over again. He’d have other duties to perform, and he’d likely have to work later to make up for what he’d missed. That wasn’t fair.

Still, it was too late now. Maggie’s heart pounded as she approached the stables, both out of anxiety over the hour ahead, and because of something she didn’t quite understand.

Why was Callum so kind to her?

Just ahead of her, a dark figure slipped out of the stables, leading a horse. Maggie recognized the horse first.