He sat beside her, wrapped an arm around her back, and drew her into his side. “What are ye doing?” she asked wearily, but she was too tired to move away.
“I dunnae have any dry clothes to give ye or a blanket to wrap ye in, so I’m giving ye my body heat.”
He was amazingly warm, so despite the fact that it was dangerous to be so close to him, she did not protest or make an effort to shove him back. “I’ll take it, but only because I’m so cold.”
He chuckled at that, and they sat in silence for a long while, the fire crackling and flickering on the cave walls and the heat increasing until Marsaili finally quit shaking. Her head still ached and felt full of wool, but at least she was not fearful a chill would take her. “I’m warmer now,” she said.
Callum glanced at her, and his rugged handsomeness made her breath catch in her throat. “Ye’re certain?” he asked, the concern from earlier still there.
“Aye,” she replied.
When he removed his arm and shoved over so they were no longer touching, she felt his absence acutely. She thought he might get up and start to cook the rabbit, but instead, he turned toward her once more.
“Tell me how was it that ye came to find out ye had half brothers?”
It was an innocent enough question, so she didn’t mind answering. “Well, ye recall Helena?” she teased.
“Who?” he teased in return.
Marsaili laughed at the lighthearted moment among all the heavy ones they had shared. “Oh, I’m certain ye recall my beautiful sister.”
“If ye recall, I told ye back then that she did nae have yer inner, as well as outer, beauty.”
“I remember,” Marsaili said. “She was enraged that she failed to seduce ye.”
“She should nae have been. I could nae see her because of ye. Ye bewitched me,” he admitted. His voice had dropped low, his gaze as hot as the fire that blazed before them.
She swallowed hard and licked her lips, trying to decide what to say. She thought he might be recalling the day they had joined. She knew she was.
“I can still see ye lying in the bright-green grass with yer dark hair spread all around ye,” he said in a velvet murmur. Her stomach tightened with his words. “Purple heather surrounded ye.”
She was acutely aware that if he were to lean over and kiss her now, she would not stop him. “I’m famished,” she said, desperate for anything to think upon other than her yearning for him.
He gave her a long, searching look, then stood without a word to retrieve the rabbit and a stick. Soon, he had the rabbit over the fire and was cooking it. His focus was singular on the task, and she realized that when he was engrossed with something, he would catch his lower lip with his teeth. Did their son have that same habit?
“Tell me,” she said, determined to learn all about his life for their son’s sake. There would come a day, she was certain, when she would reveal to their son who his father was. There would come a time when her son would need him, and she would let him go, as she must. But not now. God help her for her selfishness, but not now. An ache sprang up in her throat, and she swallowed it. “Why was yer clan so weakened that ye were compelled to marry Edina? Did it have to do with the MacDonald Clan attacking yer clan?”
He flicked his gaze to her as he slowly turned the rabbit. “I’m surprised ye dunnae ken the history from yer family.”
“Are ye?” She could not keep the sarcasm from her voice. “I was set apart from my family most the time I lived at Innis Chonnell. I ate in my chamber as ordered. I was not allowed to attend the great hall when guests arrived, so I did nae ken the happenings of other clans. The servants feared speaking to me, for they feared my father’s anger. Maria was my only friend, but she had a family of her own and our time together was always in brief slivers. When I learned that Jean was nae my mother, that I was born of my father ravaging the MacLeod laird’s wife—”
“God’s teeth,” Callum swore.
“Aye,” Marsaili agreed. “He is nae a good man, which ye ken. I realized once I learned all of this that Jean had likely always hated me. I represented my father’s indiscretion, and he hated me, as well, I think.” She shrugged. “I kinnae say for certain.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It was a foolish thing for me to be surprised that ye did nae ken the history.”
“Nay. It was nae foolish. Ye could nae have kenned my life there.”
“I suppose nae,” he said, looking angry. “I wish—Well, I wish I had kenned. I would have—”
“Dunnae,” she interrupted, fearing to know such wishes. “Tell me the history that has weakened yer clan.”
A resigned look settled on his face, and he nodded. “We’ve been under attack from the MacDonalds for years, as I told ye long ago at the Gathering, since King David’s advisors granted Urquhart Castle to my father in the king’s name for services rendered. At least that was the reason they gave.”
She frowned. “Do ye mean to say yer father did nae aid the king?”
“What? Och, nay.” He waved his free hand. “My father fought truly for the king, but the king, with his advisors telling him what to do, likely gave my father our particular castle because the MacDonald laird had wanted it and had demanded it. I imagine the king’s advisors wished to send a message to the laird that he was nae in a position to demand things from the king, even one who was but a child as David had been then.”
