Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
The following two days passed in relative peace and silence as Eleanor avoided him at all costs. Callum had regained more than enough of his strength to stay out of bed for the day and now sat whittling in front of the fire.
Each even stroke of the blade curled another shaving of wood onto the floor, leaving a large pile of kindling at his feet.
At least the lass’s dirk was good for somethin’.
It still amused him how hard she tried to fight him.
“I hope ye plan on pickin’ up that kindlin’ when ye are done.” Fiona glared at him as she stepped into the cabin with her raven on her shoulder.
Coming to his feet at once, Callum swept the mess aside with his boot. “Aye, I will feed the fire when I am done. Was there a letter for me?” He placed the half-whittled snake on the table in front of him, along with the dirk, before dusting his hands together.
Nodding, Fiona came toward him with the note in her hands, passing it to him with a curious glance. “I hope it is good news.”
Callum fumbled slightly with the edges, almost dropping the note in his haste to read it. Relief flooded his body almost as soon as his eyes darted down the page.
Men are loyal. No need to meet at the stones. Awaiting your return.
Crumpling the piece of parchment in his fist, he tossed it over his shoulder and smiled at the healer. “We shall be takin’ our leave then, Fiona. I will write me reply and have yer raven send it, but then Eleanor and I should leave.”
“And just where are ye headed?” She narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips. “Callanish with yer bride-to-be?”
“Nae, there are men at Castle Fraser who remain loyal to their Laird. I shall ride home with Eleanor and settle her in. There is still a lot that remains to be done.” He pushed past her, heading toward the table of ink and parchment that housed the raven’s perch.
Fiona folded her arms as she turned to him, pursing her lips even further into an impossibly thin line. “And ye are sure that ye can trust every man at the castle?”
His hand froze above the rolls of parchment, recalling what had happened to his father. “Nae every man, but Iain, I can trust.” He shook off feelings of a bad omen and began to write out his carefully laid out plan for the man-at-arms of his castle.
It had been years since he had pushed the tragedy of his father’s death to the back of his mind, yet somehow, people seemed to remind him when he least expected it.
His father had died after being betrayed by one of his very own bannermen.
The scandal had shaken the clan, and Callum was not sure if they would ever recover from it, but he had made a way and forged ahead.
He stood with the letter in his hand, allowing the ink to dry before he handed it over.
“I daenae ken who I can trust for the most part, but I would trust Iain with me life.” He held her gaze, noting the look of affection in the older woman’s eyes.
She had been the castle healer for many years, but things had happened that neither of them could have foreseen.
Taking the note from him, Fiona began to roll it. “I am glad that I can count meself among the people ye can trust, me Laird. Just be certain that ye keep up yer guard.” She finished rolling the letter and attached it to her raven’s leg, giving him a piece of fruit from the table as a reward.
Ignoring her warning, Callum walked out the door in search of Eleanor. He found her by the horse, brushing out the mare’s coat with a brush that Fiona had provided. “Ready yer things, we are headed toward Castle Fraser. We should leave now if we are to arrive before nightfall.”
Eleanor stopped and looked at him with her mouth slightly agape. “Right now?”
Stopping beside her, Callum began to check the saddle. “Aye, that is what leavin’ now means.”
Bristling slightly, she glared at him. “Daenae take that tone with me, me Laird.” She continued to glare at him as Fiona came out of the cabin carrying a satchel.
“Are ye two already bickerin’ like an old married couple?” She smirked, handing the satchel over to Callum.
Eleanor blushed, looking away as she drew her lips into her mouth.
“There is food and wine in the satchel. It will keep ye both goin’ until ye reach the castle,” Fiona chuckled and reached into her cloak, retrieving the snake and dirk that Callum had placed on the table.
“Now, I will be askin’ the two of ye to leave.
It has been a pleasure to help, but I must admit that I miss me privacy.
And a clean house.” She looked over her shoulder at the pile of wood chips still on her floor and sighed.
“Are we gettin’ another horse?” Eleanor seemed to panic as she looked from Callum to Fiona.
“Worried, are ye, lass?” Callum smirked, patting the back of the saddle.
“I…” she stammered, blushing again to his great enjoyment.
Her reaction made him chuckle under his breath as he placed his foot in the stirrup and swung the other over the saddle with ease.
His ribs and arms still ached, but it was a little better than when he had first arrived at the cabin.
Once he was firmly in the saddle, he looked down at her and smiled before winking.
“Just remember, lass, I shall nae bite ye unless ye ask.”
Fiona laughed this time as she took her raven off her shoulder and lifted him above her head.
A slight flick of her wrist had him flying away at incredible speed.
She waited until he was a good distance off before turning back to Eleanor.
“Daenae pick up any more men beside the road, lass. This one is trouble enough.” She thrust a thumb in Callum’s direction and shook her head before making her way into the house and slamming the door behind her.
Eleanor turned to him, her face almost defeated as she made her way toward the horse and placed her foot in the stirrup.
Holding out his arm, Callum offered her a hand, but she shook her head and climbed up on her own, positioning herself firmly behind his back.
“I am nae a bairn, me Laird, and may I remind ye who brought ye here in the first place? I can ride just as well as any man in Scotland.” She scoffed from behind him.
Smirking to himself, Callum lifted the reins and eased the horse forward, enjoying the way she bristled at every word. “Aye, those are strong words for a lass; we shall soon see about that.”
The path leading through the forest was narrow as a chill in the air kissed their faces. Callum was surprised to feel her sidling closer to him, but he said nothing as her breasts pressed into his back and her arms closed tighter around him.
He waited until they were out of the forest before urging the horse into a trot, and then a gallop, before too long.
The wind whistled past their heads, turning their noses and cheeks red.
It was not long before Callum could feel her pressing her face into his back, hiding herself from the harsh elements of the moor.
The smell of marsh and heather filled his senses, making him feel more alive than he had felt in days.
“Are ye all right back there, lass?” he called back, moving his head to the side without taking his eyes off the empty moor ahead.
The horse’s hooves thundered, almost drowning out his voice.
“I have been better!” she yelled back, her voice disappearing in the whistling of the wind.
Callum smiled to himself. She was tougher than nails and more outspoken than most women he had met, but that did not make her immune to the cold sting of the wind.
They rode on for another thirty minutes until Callum decided they needed a break. Slowing the horse, he brought her to a medium trot. “Are ye still awake, lass?” he called to her.
“Of course I am,” her voice was thinner than what he had become accustomed to. Her arms tightened slightly as the horse jolted over a large stone.
“Ye need to keep yer wits about ye, lass. This isnae the promenade in Edinburgh.” He kept himself from chuckling again.
“I daenae need yer lectures, Callum Fraser!” Her voice lifted again as he let go of his waist.
He chuckled openly this time, enjoying her slight discomfort. “Callum Fraser? What happened to me Laird?”
“I just…” she began, but quickly stopped when the horse stumbled over something in the road.
Acting quickly, Callum reached back and steadied her leg, but it was too late; she had already begun to fall.
One swift motion was all that it took for him to grip her arm and swing her up in the saddle in front of him, placing her squarely between his thighs as her legs hung over his knee.
“I think ye will be riding here for the rest of the ride, lass.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but quickly closed it again when he glared down at her.
“It is safer with ye here, where I can keep an eye on ye,” he grumbled, regretting his light teasing from earlier. The last thing he needed was to show up at the castle with an injured woman in his saddle. The plan would only work if Eleanor were fully in agreement and fully conscious.
“I cannae ride all the way to the castle like this,” she protested, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.
“Quit yer fussin’, lass; we are almost there.” He nodded ahead, beckoning her to look.
The large iron gates of the castle loomed in the distance as the horse began to part sections of the mist that was just beginning to roll in. Nightfall would be on them almost as soon as they reached the castle gates.
Eleanor shifted slightly in the saddle as she looked ahead, unknowingly leaning into him.
This woman will be the end of me.
Callum clenched his jaw as warmth spread through his loins.
It was not the first time his body was reacting to her, and he knew it would not be the last. He would have to watch himself around her, especially when they were alone.
There were far too many things at stake for him to be getting distracted by a lass he had met on the road.
They drew nearer to the gates, and Callum’s chest swelled with pride when he saw his beloved dog, Bran, come running toward the horse.
Loud yapping filled the air as the grey deerhound passed the horse, sniffing the trail behind them before trotting along happily beside his master.
“Is he yers?” Eleanor asked.
“Aye,” Callum shot his prized dog a smile.
“Is he friendly?” Her voice was filled with uncertainty as the dog eyed her suspiciously.
Callum nodded. “He is much like his master; he will only bite if ye ask him nicely.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes at the remark and looked ahead just as the rough iron gates were pushed open.
Guards eyed them in shock as the horse clopped over the wooden bridge. None of them seemed to have expected him to return, and Callum found himself wondering just who was on his side and who had hoped for his continued absence.
Never trust a soul.
The memory of his father’s betrayal by the vicious Stewart Kincaid echoed in his mind as the horse drew into the courtyard in front of the castle.
Several men who had been shoveling hay onto a cart stopped and gawked at him as if they had seen a ghost. One man even made the sign of the cross over his chest and forehead as he muttered something that sounded like a prayer under his breath.
Iain Kerr was the first to come running down the stone steps as the horse came to a stop in front of the castle.
“Me laird, it is good to have ye back,” Iain said, his sandy blonde hair flopping to the side and in much need of a trim.
His dark green eyes followed Eleanor as Callum climbed down and helped her from the saddle.
He was shorter and thinner than Callum, but not by much.
“Aye, it is good to be back home, and I have brought a wife back with me. This is Eleanor Whitacker,” Callum said as he placed her firmly on her feet.
Bowing respectfully, Iain came back up and smiled at her. “Welcome to Castle Fraser, Eleanor. We shall do our best to make ye comfortable.”
Callum noticed at once how she smiled at him, far more at ease than she had been in his own presence.
A pang of jealousy took hold of his chest, but he quickly pushed it aside when Bran jumped up to lick his face, his thin, long legs reaching Callum’s shoulders.
“Down boy, it is good to see ye too.” Callum laughed, forgetting his former thoughts as he petted the dog’s scruffy head.
Bran’s bright red tongue flopped to the side of his mouth as he turned his head to look at Eleanor with a wag of his tail.
Traitor.
Callum thought as he pushed the dog down and addressed Iain directly. “Call a council meeting at once. I will need to address the members and tell them of our plan.”
Iain nodded. “Aye, me Laird.”
“But before ye do that, find Marion and tell her to settle the new lady of the castle into her chambers. She will be needin’ a rest after our journey.” His eyes moved over Eleanor and the dust that had settled over her cloak and dress.
She had been wearing that same dress for four days, save for the nights when Fiona had given her something warmer to sleep in.
He had taken the bed in the cabin while she and Fiona had slept side by side on a pile of hay.
The situation had irked him at first, but the healer had insisted due to his injuries.
“And make sure her chambers are beside me own. She needs new clothes and anythin’ else she needs...” he barked at Iain in passing, assuaging some of his guilt for the nights on the floor and the almost fall.
They both followed him up the stairs as eyes marked their path. There would not be a soul in the castle who would not know that he had returned, and by nightfall, his enemies would surely know too.
Good.
He squared his shoulders and entered his castle.
Let them come.