Brice frowned. “Perhaps it would be best if ye let me deal with Marsaili.”
Callum’s body tensed at the suggestion, his mind rebelling against the notion. His brother had only made a point that Callum himself had considered, yet he could not agree. “I will decide what shall be done and by whom after I have spoken with Mother and find Marsaili.”
“Be careful, Brother, that ye dunnae accidentally shame Coira. Ye are too honorable for such actions.”
Callum nodded, knowing his brother spoke out of concern. “It is good of ye to try to learn her, though I ken ye believe I am doing wrong by this union.”
Brice nodded. “Aye, I do believe the union is nae good for ye, but if ye will nae be swayed, then I will ken her and give her respect.”
“I will take a care for Coira as well,” Callum promised. “Now tell me, what does Mother say happened?” he asked striding toward the door. He gave the signal for his men to stand down as they had been trained well and clearly were aware that there might be a problem. He did not want to sound an alarm before knowing if one was necessary.
When the door closed behind them, abruptly silencing the cacophony, Callum swung toward his brother who had yet to answer him. “What does Mother say?” he demanded.
“She says Marsaili hit her on the head because she caught the lass about to flee with stolen daggers and coin.”
“Marsaili would nae have left Maria,” Callum said in disgust. “If she’d wanted to flee, she would have tried to do so in the woods rather than return here, to a castle armed with my men, to wait for her companion to be able to depart. Mother is lying.”
“Aye,” Brice agreed. “Any notion why?”
Callum motioned his brother to start walking, and they fell into step side-by-side, making their way down the passage toward the steps. Callum paused at the steps that led down to the healing room. “Nay. I’ve nae told Mother who Marsaili was to me, so—”
Brice cringed, and then his cheeks flushed. Callum groaned. The only time his brother ever turned red was when he felt bad about something he’d done. “Tell me ye did nae reveal who Marsaili truly is to Mother.”
“I’m happy nae to tell ye,” Brice said slowly, “but I fear ye’ll only be even more vexed if I keep it a secret.”
“God’s bones, Brother,” Callum muttered, taking the stairs three at a time. “Did it nae occur to ye that Mother would nae welcome kenning that the woman I broke my first promised union for was actually alive and in our home?”
“It occurred to me,” Brice shot back.
Directly outside of the healing room’s closed door, Callum grabbed his brother by the forearm. “Ye thought to purposely stir trouble?” he accused.
“Aye,” Brice replied, holding Callum’s stare. “Ye are making a grave mistake marrying Coira. Ye dunnae have any tender feelings for that lass, and she dunnae have any for ye.”
“I am grateful for yer concern, Brother, but stay out of it,” he ordered. “I dunnae want to speak to ye about this again.”
Brice scowled. “Fine.”
Callum made his way into the small healing room, which smelled distinctly of mugwort and anise. Maria was crouched over his mother but straightened at the sight of him, her green eyes narrowed and her mouth pressed into a thin line. The woman’s silver hair was in a tight coil atop her head, and the few strands that had escaped, she shoved back with her hand, then motioned to Callum’s mother.
“Sheis a deceiver,” Maria announced.
Callum flicked his gaze to his mother, who sat up with a look of outrage on her face. “Callum, I command ye nae to let this woman speak to me this way!”
“Sit down, Mother,” he ordered when he saw her sway on her feet. He looked for signs of serious injury and saw none—just a bump and small cut on her right temple, and the faint traces of a purple bruise that would surely darken. He walked over to her, kneeled, and caught her gaze. “So ye came into the room and Marsaili was in the process of fleeing? Is that what occurred?”
His mother nodded. “Aye, that is exactly what occurred. She had two daggers in her hands and a pouch full of coin. I tried to stop her, and she hit me on the head.”
He had to clench his teeth momentarily on calling his own mother a liar. “She hit ye with a dagger?”
“Aye!”
“So Marsaili held a dagger in each hand along with the leather pouch?” Brice asked, standing directly behind Callum.
“I…” His mother nibbled on her lip for a moment, as if considering her words before speaking them. “Aye.”
Callum scooped up the leather pouch sitting beside his mother. “Is this nae yer pouch?”
“Aye. She must have stolen it from my room.”
