A Very Highland Holiday - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,98
whisky drenched cranachan down upon a small table. “Back from the dead, with a bride no less!”
She winked at Elizabeth, and said, “Callum won’t be sayin’ so, mind ye, but ’e always had the ladies in a swoon. You’re a lucky lady!”
Elizabeth nodded dumbly, as she accepted a brimming cup of ale, then gulped it down, grateful for the alcohol’s calming effect. After a moment, Bess, too, departed, leaving her alone with her “betrothed.”
Only now, wondering over the particulars, Elizabeth considered whether she ought to go apprise Mrs. Grace of the shocking turn of events.
“It all makes sense now,” she told Callum as he spooned the steaming broth into his mouth. “James insisted I leave for Dunmore at once. And then, he departed without so much as a by your leave. Naturally, I wondered where he was off to in such haste. Now, I know.”
Callum nodded very soberly, setting down his bowl, although he didn’t yet sit. Her hand drifted into the spot on the bed he had occupied before, feeling for his fading warmth.
“So it seems,” he said. “He came to assure me my passage was safe, and then he also insisted I leave at once. He apprised me the precise route to take, and then gave me papers to show in case I should need them.”
Elizabeth tilted her head. “But he didn’t tell you to stop here, did he? What made you do that?” she asked, curiously.
Callum shrugged. “I don’t know. I was damp to my bones. I knew Bess and John well enough to know they’d give me a bed for the night, and a thick bowl of stew. But most of all, I suppose the thought of arriving home wasn’t entirely without its sorrow.”
“I can only imagine,” she said, and now he came and sat beside her on the bed, but not too close. He hesitated a moment, then removed a ribbon of tartan from his pocket to show her.
“They burned the rest of his plaid along with his body, and mine as well, but the lady who tended me cut me a piece. She gave it to me before I left.”
Red, green with a hint of white.
“The MacKinnon plaid?” she surmised.
He nodded glumly, looking for the moment like a wee little boy.
Elizabeth didn’t understand what it was about a small scrap of cloth that the Scot’s found so worthy of dying for. And nevertheless, she didn’t need to understand to appreciate the fervor with which they applied themselves. They loved their tartans as fiercely as they loved their families… and their land… and now, so it seemed, it wasn’t legal to have either…
But she needn’t marry the man for pity’s sake. There were English guards out in the yard; and knowing what she knew, she could call upon them, and they would arrive with due force, and very likely execute Callum for merely possessing that small scrap.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He shrugged, and said, “In the end, I suppose I wasn’t looking forward to providing details.” He winced, as though the memory offered him a new blow to the gut.
Elizabeth asked gently, without intending injury, “Don’t you think they should know by now?”
“Aye,” he said. “But it’s the how of it I’m dreading, lass.”
Elizabeth reached over to lay a few fingers on his bare arm, and the touch gave her a shock, startling her. She pulled her hand away as he peered up at her, his blue eyes glittering, oh so fiercely. The silence that fell between them stretched interminably…
“So, then… are ye keen for the match?” he asked, finally. “With my brother, Lachlan—I must assume it’s Lachlan?”
Elizabeth lifted a shoulder. “I wasn’t opposed, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Aye, lass, but is it Lachlan ye’re wanting?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I have never met him.”
He lifted a brow then, and said, “I am guessing your cousin’s intention was that I would return in time tae take his place at the altar. Tis as heavy-handed a scheme as I’ve ever encountered.”
Elizabeth nodded. “And yet… I’m certain he meant well.”
He peered down at the ribbon, pulling it between his thumb and forefinger. “Aye, lass… I’m sure he did. Canny lad,” he said, smiling ruefully. “For a Sassenach…” His smile widened then, and Elizabeth’s heart tripped a few beats.
He lifted his brow. “I’m also guessing he knew, as my brother must have known, that the only chance of us getting through this with our lands is to align ourselves with the English. Your uncle, precisely?”
“Elizabeth nodded, picking nervously at a thumbnail, understanding