“Aye,” she croaked.
“Then let us flee before we all die,” Lucan said.
Callum shook his head. “I kinnae leave her brothers, the MacLean, and the Summer Walkers to this battle.”
Marsaili gasped. “My brothers are here!”
“Aye,” a voice said from behind them. “It’s good to ken ye would nae leave us, Callum.” Callum turned to see Alex, Lachlan, and Cameron standing there. Lachlan winked at him. “The Summer Walkers are fleeing, what’s left of them. We should, as well.”
With a nod, he turned, taking Marsaili with him as a volley of arrows came through the woods after them, one striking Lucan in the throat.
Marsaili screamed as the man dropped dead to his knees, eyes wide. And then Marsaili’s father and the earl came toward them from out of the mist. Without thought, Callum threw his dagger, and it lodged in the earl’s thigh. The last thing Callum heard as he took Marsaili’s hand and they continued to flee was the earl bellowing her name.
The ride to escape her father and the earl’s men was relentless and exhausting. On the second day of being awake, Marsaili succumbed to sleep, slouching against Callum in the saddle. She awoke to darkness and a much slower pace than the frenzied one that all the men had insisted was necessary to reach allied territory. Her first reaction was fear, but when Callum squeezed her from behind and pressed a kiss to her head, her fears dissipated.
“Sleep,mo ghraidh.”
The sound of being calledmy loveby Callum made her smile, even as her eyes drifted closed once more. “We have entered yer brother Graham’s territory, and his men have joined us. Neither yer father nor the earl’s men can follow without threat to their lives.” Relief made her sigh as she nodded. Callum pressed his lips to her ear. “Soon, we will be with our son.”
“Aye,” she replied drowsily and drifted to sleep once more, where she was met with a dream of Brody and Callum.
They were all floating in the water, the sun shining down on them. The day seemed perfect. But then a shadow appeared of a figure holding a dagger. She could not see its face, and she jolted awake with fear and dread in her heart. They traveled through the day and into the night without stopping. There was no time for talk with the pounding hooves and jolting road. She fell asleep once more near the break of a new day, and when she awoke sometime later, the sun was high and Dunvegan Castle loomed before her. Her breath caught in her chest as joy flowed through her.
The courtyard was filled to capacity with MacLeods, but at the front of the gathered men and women stood Iain, who held his son Royce’s hand. Beside Iain stood Marion, his wife. In her arms, she held the most beautiful thing that Marsaili had ever seen—Brody. He was giggling as Marion tickled him, and then she pointed toward Callum and Marsaili and whispered something in the child’s ear.
Behind her, she felt tension ripple through Callum’s body, and she understood why because she felt the same thing, had the same worries. What if Brody feared them? What if they were terrible parents? What if—
“Together,” Callum whispered to her.
She nodded. Callum dismounted and helped her to do so, too. They interlaced their fingers and walked to their son as one. When they stood before him, Brody reached for Marsaili, holding out his chubby arms, and said, “Mama.”
She promptly burst into tears.
After greeting her brothers, her sisters-in-law who were present, and Maria, Marsaili made her way to her bedchamber to wash and spend some private time with Brody. Callum followed. She could sense he was reluctant to part with her, and she was with him, as well, but Iain had asked Callum to attend him in the laird’s solar before supper, which did not give them much time.
When Marsaili opened her door, she was shocked and grateful to see a beautiful crib within, nestled under the window. Callum rested his hand on her shoulder as she bounced Brody on her hip. From behind them, someone cleared their throat, and Callum and Marsaili turned as one.
Marion stood there and gave a radiant smile. “Iain commissioned the crib to be carved for you,” she said, her English accent not as heavy as it once had been. Marion brushed a hand over Brody’s head. “When Lena wrote to him and told him of the bairn and what had occurred—”
Marsaili tensed knowing that Marion was referring to Marsaili’s treachery. Iain had been kind enough when he had greeted her in the courtyard, but she had not expected him to denounce her on the spot. She assumed he would discreetly call her to him for her reckoning.
“He was angry,” Marion said, ever truthful, “but Marsaili, he does understand. I told him I would have done exactly as you did.”
“Truly?” Marsaili asked. Marion was one of the most honorable, bravest women Marsaili knew, and if she would have done as Marsaili had when put in such a terrible position, it somehow lessened the guilt she felt.
Marion nodded, then hugged Marsaili as she held Brody. “Truly.”
“Down!” he pronounced, wiggling out of Marsaili’s arms. She set him down, though reluctantly. He marched over the bed on still-wobbly legs and picked up some toys that had been left there for him before settling on the floor to play. Tears of joy came to Marsaili’s eyes.
Marion patted her as Callum drew her near and squeezed Marsaili’s arm reassuringly. “We will have a thousand of these moments,” he said quietly.
She nodded, knowing it was true.
Marion cleared her throat. Marsaili looked over at her, but Marion’s green gaze was focused on Callum. “I took the liberty of putting you in the bedchamber next to Marsaili. I presumed you would want to be near her and your son.”
“Thank ye,” he replied, his voice catching with obvious emotion that made Marsaili’s heart squeeze.
Marion looked at Marsaili now. “I had the gowns you left here washed and the wrinkles shaken out. I’ll have them bring up a tub and water. I gave Brody a bath this morning. Royce helped me,” she said with a chuckle. “Those two boys will be the best of friends.”
