Chapter 4
Ten long months had brought Callum to this very moment.
He was finally home. He finally had Sienna by his side again, and she was safe, just as Rhea had promised him.
Every day, he had been plagued by thoughts of the two of them, of the clan, of everything that could go wrong while he was gone, but now he was back, and everything was in order.
Me wife did well. It’s a good thing she is competent.
They needed a competent lady while they rebuilt. With little wealth and with their forces weakened, he needed someone by his side who could lead as well as he could.
“It saddens me so to see ye like this,” Sienna muttered.
Callum let out a long sigh, shaking his head.
They were alone in the Great Hall, the two of them sitting across from each other at the large breakfast table with no one but the servants around them, going back and forth as they served their food.
The clansmen would soon join them, but he had woken up bright and early to get a head start on the day.
His duties didn’t stop just because he had come back from war.
“That’s what happens when ye go to war, Sienna,” he said.
He knew he had changed much in the past ten months.
He knew he had returned as a different man, not only in appearance but also in soul.
He had seen too much death, too much pain, too much blood.
No matter how strong a man he was, no matter how strong a leader, sending his men to die had left its mark on him.
“I ken that,” Sienna snapped, her frown deepening. “But it doesnae mean I like it.”
“Ach, well, do ye think me wife likes it?”
She rolled her eyes at him, but she couldn’t help the small smile on her lips. And that, for him, was enough.
Just then, the doors to the Great Hall opened, and Rhea walked in.
His gaze fell on her, drinking her in. The golden light pouring through the large windows along the wall bathed her as she walked down the length of the hall, turning her hair into a blazing halo.
Her dark blue gown complemented the rich brown of her eyes, like the deepest forests near Castle McMahon.
Callum was instantly captivated, just as he had been when he had first seen her.
Back then, perhaps he could have been worthy of her. Perhaps he could have turned himself into a decent man. But the war had left him scarred, both on the outside and the inside, and now he was nothing but a shell of the man she had married. Now he was a danger to her and everyone around them.
And yet that didn’t stop him from wanting her.
He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the heat blooming in his stomach.
Next to him, Sienna frowned. “What is the matter with ye?” she asked.
He didn’t know exactly what to tell her.
“Me Laird,” Rhea called rather awkwardly, stopping a few steps away from the table. She hesitated for a moment, then bobbed a curtsy as an afterthought, barely more than a bounce on her heels. “We must speak.”
Just as Callum was about to speak, the doors opened again, and a man strolled in—a man he had seen before, though it took him a few moments to place him. It was none other than Lennon Edwards, the Laird of Clan Barclay.
Laird Barclay stopped short by the doors, seemingly just as surprised to see him there. He froze for a few moments, his eyes narrowing, but then he smiled and entered the hall.
“Laird McMahon!” he called, opening his arms wide in greeting. “It’s so good to have ye back.”
Callum grunted, his gaze flitting between the three of them.
What the hell is happenin’ here? Why is he in me castle?
He turned to Rhea. “Why is he here?”
He didn’t care if the question was abrupt or rude. He didn’t care that Laird Barclay was right there. All he cared about was finding out why there was a stranger in his home.
Surely, Laird Barclay is here for a reason.
Rhea didn’t speak at first. She only exchanged a glance with Sienna, the two of them looking too nervous for his liking.
“He… he’s here to ask for Sienna’s hand in marriage,” Rhea replied eventually, her voice strained.
Callum frowned and turned to Sienna. “Do ye wish to wed him?”
Sienna only shook her head, not daring to say a word, but it was enough for him.
“She doesnae wish to wed ye, Barclay,” he grunted. “So ye may leave now.”
Everyone around him froze, waiting with bated breath to see what Laird Barclay would say, but Callum simply grabbed an apple and bit into its juicy flesh as he stared at the other man.
He had always been abrupt, but the war had hardened him even more. He had no time to waste on such things. Laird Barclay was a vulture, and the only reason he wanted to marry Sienna was that he had thought Callum dead. Callum was certain of it.
He wouldn’t give his sister to a much older man anyway.
“Excuse me?” Laird Barclay’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Ye cannae simply dismiss me like this!”
“Sure I can,” Callum said with a small shrug. “This is me home. I can do as I please. And I hate repeatin’ meself.”
Laird Barclay huffed out a humorless laugh, his gaze turning cold. “I daenae think ye understand the position yer clan is in,” he said, much to Callum’s chagrin. “Yer forces are weakened after almost a year of war. How many of yer men went there? How many returned?”
Callum dropped his fork, which landed with a loud clatter on his plate. He rose and stayed by the table for a few moments, before approaching Laird Barclay, towering over him.
“Are ye threatenin’ me?”
To his credit, Laird Barclay met his gaze without flinching. “Of course I’m nae threatenin’ ye.”
It was a lie.
Callum stood directly in front of him so that he was blocking Rhea and Sienna from view, like a shield. “I believe ye should be on yer way now.”
He didn’t need to say anything else.
Laird Barclay looked like he still wanted to argue, and there was no doubt in Callum’s mind that he would if he left him even a sliver of an opening, but he was a stone wall. He would not accept a single protest.
Eventually, Laird Barclay left.
Callum turned to the rest of the hall. “Everyone out,” he growled. “Everyone but ye.” He pointed at Rhea, who froze on the spot.
The servants scurried out, but Sienna stood next to Rhea like a loyal sentinel.
“I said out.”
“Nay,” Sienna huffed.
Callum pinned her with a hard look, wondering when she had gathered the courage to defy him like this. But before he could say anything, Rhea laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“It’s all right,” she assured her. “Go.”
Sienna gave her a hesitant look, but after Rhea gave her a reassuring nod, she finally left, but not without shooting Callum a glare.
Silence fell over the hall once the doors clicked shut. Callum approached Rhea, his heels clicking on the stone floor, the only sound that broke the quiet.
Rhea stood tall in front of him, never once avoiding his gaze.
“I told ye to protect me sister,” he reminded her. “I insisted that ye keep her safe.”
“Do ye think I didnae try?” she spat back. “What do ye think I’ve been doin’ all this time that ye were gone? Perhaps ye’d like to ask yer councilmen what they thought of Barclay’s marriage proposal.”
“Would I?”
“Och aye,” Rhea huffed. “They wouldnae listen to me because I daenae even have an heir!”
She was seething, Callum could tell. Her cheeks had turned a deep red, burning with rage, but he couldn’t help but think she looked so enticing.
He wanted to see that flush on her cheeks caused by other things—by him, by the pleasure he could give her.
And her complaint was precisely what he needed to bring it up.
He closed the distance between them, stepping close enough to cup her cheek in a gentle hand. The gesture seemed to surprise her. A gasp escaped her lips, and she looked up at him with a small, confused frown that he wanted to smooth with his finger.
He didn’t resist the urge. He brushed his thumb over her rosy lips, feeling the soft skin under the pad of his finger and watching as her eyes widened, her pupils dilating until they swallowed up almost all the brown of her irises.
“I’ll meet ye in yer chambers later,” he said.
With that, he pulled back from her and left.
Rhea stood in the middle of the empty hall, her hand brushing over her tingling lips.
Lord, what does he think he’s doin’?
She rushed off to her chambers, where she could be truly alone for a while, and no one disturbed her for the rest of the day. Only Lara came to check on her late in the evening, holding a handful of rowan berries, much to Rhea’s surprise.
“Lara, I daenae think ye can eat these,” she said.
But Lara only gave her a soft smile as she shoved the berries in a crease in her pillowcase, right where she slept.
“They’re nae for eatin’, me Lady,” she explained. “They’re to ward off misfortune and anythin’ that may stop ye from conceivin’.”
Rhea couldn’t help but laugh, her shoulders shaking with mirth, but Lara straightened and pinned her with her sternest look.
“It isnae funny,” she protested, as she always did when someone laughed at her superstitions. “There are people who would benefit from ye never havin’ a bairn. Surely, ye ken that.”
“Aye, I ken that,” Rhea said, adopting a serious expression. “Ye’re right, Lara. Thank ye.”
There was no point arguing with her maid about this, not when she believed it helped. The only thing that mattered to Rhea was that Lara truly did want to help. That was more than enough.
As Lara helped her change into a nightgown, Rhea’s heart rate quickened at the thought of what was to follow. She couldn’t get the thought out of her mind, no matter how much she tried. The fear of the unknown made her shoulders tense and her stomach tie itself into knots.
And of course, Lara noticed.
“What is on yer mind, me Lady?” she asked.
Rhea drew in a sharp breath. “This is the first time I will share me bed with me husband,” she said. “And yet I hardly ken the man. With the way he left… Lara, how am I supposed to give meself to a stranger?”