Chapter 6
“What could he be plannin’?”
That question had been on Rhea’s mind for days, ever since Callum had told her he would plan something for them.
That had been at the start of the week, and it was now the end of it, and he had just told her he would be taking her out that very same day.
She had been preparing for this the entire week. She had thought that whatever it was, she would approach it with perfect poise, and yet now she couldn’t help but consider the possibilities, trying to figure out which one would be the worst.
Surely, he kens what courtin’ is. He wouldnae do anythin’… uncouth.
“Somethin’ lovely, I’m sure, me Lady,” Lara replied, fluffing up her pillows. “Though I saw a bird fly into the castle only this morn. Do ye want to ken what that means?”
“I daenae,” Rhea muttered.
“It means somethin’ bad will happen,” Lara said, nonetheless. “I daenae ken when or what, but the clan will soon suffer.”
“Ach, Lara, do ye ever think that nae everythin’ is a sign?”
“Nay,” Lara replied confidently. “There are signs everywhere if ye ken where to look.”
“I’d rather be surprised than always rely on signs.” Rhea gave a small shrug.
She couldn’t imagine living like Lara did, finding something to worry about in everything. Though she had to admit that sometimes, the signs she saw were positive ones.
With Lara’s help, Rhea dressed and fixed her hair, pinning it up with pearl-headed pins. The gown she wore was simple, as she didn’t know exactly where Callum was taking her, a light blue that matched the morning sky.
The knock on her door came sooner than she would have thought, and in strolled Callum, sporting his usual frown along with a dark jacket and trews. Lara took one look at him and disappeared, as she always did, leaving them alone.
Callum paused for a moment, studying Rhea with hunger in his eyes, like a man who had been deprived of food for too long and had now been thrust in the middle of a banquet.
She never knew what to do when he looked at her like that. She never knew what to say, how to act. All she could do was hope that her blush wasn’t as obvious as it felt, though she doubted her luck.
“Ye look… good,” Callum said, as if the words themselves were choking him. Rhea didn’t know whether she should take it as a compliment or not.
“Thank ye,” she returned, the last word pitched a little higher, uncertain, as if in a question.
“Are ye ready?”
“Aye. Very much so.”
Callum strolled off, as if expecting her to follow him, but then stopped short, thinking twice about it. He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before he offered her his arm, and she gladly looped hers around it.
He led her through the castle in silence, the two of them walking side by side until they reached the courtyard. Just as Rhea thought that they were going to the stables to get their horses and head out, he steered her to the back of the castle, where the gardens were.
Is that all he could think of?
But it soon turned out they weren’t heading into the gardens, either. Much to her surprise, they were heading somewhere else—the training grounds.
“Are we here to train?” she asked half-jokingly.
“I noticed that we have somethin’ in common,” Callum said, instead of answering her question.
“We do?”
“Aye. Precision.”
Rhea blinked a few times in surprise. “Precision?”
“Aye.” Callum nodded. “I saw how ye killed that bee.”
“Och… I see,” Rhea murmured, though she wasn’t seeing at all. “Well, I was only lucky.”
“I daenae think so,” Callum said, sounding certain. “But in any case, we should find out. Besides, it’s a good idea to make sure ye can defend yerself. Ye never ken when ye might need it.”
Rhea could hardly argue with that, though she doubted she could learn to wield a sword in only one training session. Besides, it was hardly her idea of a perfect outing with her husband. She would end up sweaty, dusty, and more than likely covered in bruises by the end of it.
She didn’t protest, though. She didn’t want the headache of enduring his reaction.
The training grounds were not empty, as she would have expected.
Hudson, Callum’s man-at-arms, was there.
From what she had gathered from her wedding night and the past few days ever since their return, the man was also Callum’s friend.
He stood there alone, a sword in his hand, attacking straw dummies again and again, sweat dripping from his brow.
“Hudson!” Callum called.
Hudson turned to look at them, his eyebrows arching in surprise. He rushed to them when Callum beckoned him over, a smile stretching his lips.
“Good mornin’,” he greeted them both. “Me Lady, I daenae believe we have spoken much.”
“This is Hudson,” Callum said with a sweeping gesture. “Ye’ve met him before.”
“Aye, I have.” Rhea inclined her head to the man. “But it’s good to meet ye again.”
“Likewise, me Lady.”
“Hudson was just leavin’,” Callum said.
“I was?” Hudson asked.
“Aye,” Callum uttered. “Ye certainly were.”
“I’m yer man-at-arms, Callum,” Hudson said. “If I daenae train, who will?”
With that, he rushed back to the dummies, much to Callum’s obvious annoyance.
“He usually does as I say,” he grumbled, and Rhea couldn’t help but laugh. “Come.”
He led her into the training grounds, but not where they kept the swords, as she had thought he would. Instead, he led her to a rack filled with bows and arrows. He grabbed two bows and several arrows before taking her to the targets.
There were three of them, standing side by side at the very end of the training yard. They stood about ten meters from them, then Callum strung his bow, aimed, and loosed the arrow. It hit the bullseye.
Rhea couldn’t help but be impressed, clapping excitedly.
“See?” he asked with a pleased smile. “Precision.”
Rhea doubted she could shoot an arrow with so much precision, but she didn’t protest when he handed her the other bow.
“I’m sure ye’ll be better than him, me Lady!” Hudson called from the other side of the training yard. “It was a lucky shot!”
Callum said nothing. He only glared at Hudson. But that alone would have brought a lesser man to tears.
With a small bow of his head, Hudson walked over to the sword rack and hung his. “All right, all right,” he said, raising his hands placatingly. “I get it. I’ll go.”
“Did ye do that so we could be alone?” Rhea asked, and Callum nodded.
She couldn’t help but chuckle. Still, the gesture made warmth bloom in her chest.
She would never have thought Callum romantic, and she supposed training with him wasn’t the most romantic thing in the world. But for him, it seemed like it was.
Silently, he handed her an arrow and came to stand behind her, guiding her to the right spot. His hands were on her waist, holding her securely, and she could feel the touch of each finger, hyperaware of his presence behind her, of his hands on her body.
She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, heating her skin.
She could feel his chest every time he drew breath, expanding to brush against her back.
She could feel the strength of his palms where they had wrapped around her ribs, holding her steady and making her feel unmoored at the same time.
It would take so little for him to lean in and press a kiss to her neck. Rhea imagined it, his mouth lowering to her skin, the heat of it reminding her of a sensual caress.
She was alight with need, every part of her aching to be touched, to be kissed, to be held by this man she had denied only days ago.
Why did I tell him to wait?
It seemed silly now, but she had already asked for a whole month to get to know him—and she didn’t count the five days they had missed while she waited for him.
Rhea tried to bring her focus back to the bow in her hand, which was easier when Callum stepped back from her, giving her space to try it on her own.
She focused on the target before her, on that tiny dot right in the middle, and pulled back the string, just as Callum had shown her. Only for the string to snap.
She let out a cry, half in surprise and half in pain. Callum was next to her within moments, but it was mostly the shock that had startled her, rather than the small cut on her hand.
“Are ye all right?” Callum asked, his voice uncharacteristically high, just as it had been when he had thought there was something wrong with Sienna.
It was a strange thought that he could be as concerned for her as he was for his sister, and it warmed something deep inside her, closing some of the distance that had grown between them while he had been away.
Blood welled up on her hand where the string had cut her, the sting of it radiating across her palm, but it was far from serious. The cut was shallow; she knew it would heal in a few days. Still, Callum had paled a little, though she doubted it was the sight of blood that had affected him so.
He had seen so much of it in his lifetime. He had seen so much pain, so much blood, so much death that a simple cut like this surely couldn’t rattle him.
He is only rattled because it’s me.
Rhea didn’t really know what to do with that thought. On the one hand, she was glad to know that her husband worried so much for her safety. On the other, she would never have expected it from him, not when he had done his best to keep his distance—at least emotionally—from her.
Perhaps it is unfair to expect him to show emotions. He is a laird. He’s been hardened by war. Askin’ him to be emotional may be quite… unfair to him.
But if that were true, did it also mean that she would have to spend the entirety of her marriage with a man who couldn’t articulate a single emotion?
“Rhea?” Callum asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Are ye all right?”
Rhea hummed softly in question, then nodded. “Aye, aye… I’m fine. It’s only a scratch.”
“I should take ye to the healer.” Callum placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her. But she had no intention of going to the healer.
“Ach, Callum, I’m fine,” she insisted. “Look, it already stopped bleedin’.”