Chapter 27

I followed Alex down to the courtyard, walking behind him as if in a dream. The light and sounds of the corridors were grating. A few times, I missed my step and bumped into a corner or a bend in the wall. I was the fool chasing a miracle at the end of the rainbow; drunk on its luster.

Once we crossed over the threshold and left the castle, Alex turned and offered me a graceful bow, holding my hand and kissing it with a courtly flourish. Without a word, he left, striding off toward the stables. I stood blinking and breathless as Calum and Bess looked on. I could just make out the curl of amusement across their lips.

Wallis broke the spell I was seemingly trapped within by running toward me and crashing into my legs.

"Eileaaaaannn," she whined, high-pitched voice a little too saccharine. "Mom-mom says I not go with you."

I rested my hand on the top of her head and ruffled her hair. "You can't come with me this time, lovey."

"Because?" She blinked up at me impatiently.

"I told you, Wallis, Eilean is going where sick people are. It would be dangerous to take you," Bess called out, hands on her hips.

My sister-in-law and I shared a look of amused exasperation.

"Next time I go for a ride, I promise to take you with me," I said, crouching down and talking to Wallis eye-to-eye.

That earned me a smile and a small jig of excitement. Any lingering unhappiness the girl felt was forgotten. I let her lead me over to the wagon where Bess and Calum were stacking up supplies. The number of boxes and crates of food stacked in the cart surprised me.

"Can we spare all this?" I asked.

"Truth be told, we're hurting for storage space in the kitchens. Cook says all of this is the surplus's surplus." Bess said as she pushed back a few flyaway hairs from her face. The gold of her hair danced on the wind around her head like a halo. A smattering of summer freckles already bloomed across her nose and cheeks.

"Fair enough," I said, moving out of the way as Calum shuffled closer and placed the last box of tinctures on the floorboards under the bench. "I suppose it's hard getting used to the idea of a surplus."

"We might as well share it while we have it, and pray we never need the favor returned." Bess agreed, nodding.

"Was Wallis successful in her petition?" Calum asked, dusting off his fine silk tunic. It was a beautiful shade of pasture green that offset the heaviness of his dark brows and hair.

"Fortunately, no," I laughed. "Though I owe her a ride at a later date."

"You better get on your way, you're losing the morning," Bess said, studying a dented pocket watch. Catching Wallis by the apron strings as she zoomed past, she swung the girl up onto her hip.

"Right. Thanks," I said, gripping Bess' shoulder. A surge of pride and affection for her spread within me. I was grateful to have her by my side. "I'll see you when I get back."

Bess nodded and turned to head back into the castle, Wallis waving over her shoulder. I gestured my hands to the full wagon and offered my thanks to Calum for help in filling it.

"It is my pleasure, to serve the great Laid MacLeod," he said genially, bowing at the waist. "You're quite fetching in your festive yellow bow and bright pink dress. Are you sure you're off to nurse the sick or visit a suitor?"

I patted the bow, feeling the ribbon crinkle under my fingers. "Nurse the sick, I'm afraid. Though today's assignment was unknown to me when I dressed."

"And perhaps you've already seen your suitor," he crooned in a low voice while looking away to straighten a stake of crates.

"What's that?" I asked naively, arching my brow.

Calum offered me an impish grin, and I rolled my eyes.

"Is it truly an outbreak of white fever?" Calum asked, leaning in close, keeping his voice low.

I nodded. He shuddered, and his face went pale.

"If you're up for the ride, I wouldn't mind your company," I said, boldly inviting him to join me. Though I was accustomed to spending time alone with men, the men in question were usually my brothers or Alex. This invitation was quite different. I blamed my impropriety on the brightness of the sky and the sweetness of the breeze. I was restless with spring fever and the still jangling nerves of Alex's kiss. Needy for companionship. At least Calum was entertaining.

"As I have no occupation, and as I swore a solemn vow to obey you in all things, I cannot refuse."

I laughed and shook my head as I climbed into the wagon. The horse, impatient, kicked at the ground and snorted.

"It might be a bit of a squeeze," I said, settling on the bench and showing how the volume of my skirts reduced the already cramped sitting area.

"Extra padding for me, so long as you do not mind being wrinkled on one side." Calum joked, climbing up beside me.

Seated side-by-side, I was all too conscious of how the side of my body pressed into his. Shifting a bit, I tried to put space between us — to no avail.

"At least the closeness will keep out the chill," he observed, his face so very close to mine.

"Practical," I said, unable to meet his gaze.

Calum scooped up the reins and clucked the horse into motion.

"Oh, this is a luxury, not having to drive!" I remarked, amazed that the old horse, notorious for his stubbornness, had allowed a stranger to give him a command.

"Then my rent is paid," he said with a cheerful wink. "So tell me, are you a healer too on top of your other glowing attributes?"

I scoffed. "No, not by a long shot. But among the divisions of the daily workload, caring for the sick falls under my jurisdiction."

"I see. And what are the other jobs?"

"Alex sees to the fields and the barns, Bess runs the house and manages the staff, Angus oversees security and manages the correspondence and care of the territories outside of Stormway. That leaves the people and accounts for me." I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the sun on my face.

Calum hummed and twitched the reins, directing the horse along the path. "And what should my responsibilities be?"

Laughing, I opened my eyes and nodded to the horse. "Transportation, obviously. And your lady is very grateful for it. I have never been driven around on a carriage. Thank you."

Calum inclined his head. "There was always the rumor you were a rube, but calling this cart a carriage proves it."

I ignored his taunt, stung by it more than I anticipated. "If you are looking for a more grandiose position, which I can tell you are by your sulking and name-calling, then I hope it will flatter you to know that I think of you as my political advisor. My spy in enemy territory."

"And who, pray tell, is the enemy? I am snooping for details on your family, your own countrymen."

"Perhaps 'spy' is an incorrect term, but I dare say you enjoy the dramatics."

"You are not wrong," Calum laughed.

My momentary hurt forgotten, I knocked my shoulder into his and he winked. The rolling hills passed by, undulating up and around us like a lazy, green tide. The grass was flush with the bright yellow-green glow of late spring. Salt from the distant ocean mingled with the flowering trees and created a perfume that hit me in the gut and the heart. The smell of home.

"What is it like in the North?" I asked, wondering at how my verdant surroundings contrasted to his homeland.

"Snowy," He replied, his brow furrowing with recollection. "The elevation is quite high, so the snow lingers until mid-June."

"No!"

"Truly." He confirmed. "My ancestors built Istimere into the side of a mountain, carved from the craggy, white marble. The sides of the mountains, The Sheers, drop sharply down into the ocean below. It's a gray, cold, harsh place. Not at all like this." He scanned the surrounding scenery, his eyebrows high and his shoulders loose. For all his wonder at the flowering grasses and petal-heavy trees, there was a sorrowful tinge of nostalgia in his tone.

"No wonder you're so theatric. It sounds like a perfectly thrilling place to grow up," I said. My imagination could only take me so far in imagining what he described. Secretly, I wished I might someday see Istimere and The Sheers. "How long have you been away?"

"Six years?" Calum said, as if unsure of his answer.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

"I have to count... hold on." He looked up in thought and then, after a few moments, nodded. "Yes, six years. Almost seven."

"How is that possible? The war only started three years ago." Having never left Ellesmure, having never crossed the boundaries of Stormway Castle, I couldn't imagine spending almost a decade away.

"I was in school," Calum said simply.

I blushed. While there were a few prestigious colleges and academies scattered across the Island, Ellesmure boasted none such institution. No one in my family was formally educated. Work, not books, had been the preferred instruction of the MacLeod clan. Even Alex, who might have attended any of the universities on the Mainland, had been privately tutored.

"I've never met anyone who went to school," I said, in awe.

Calum smiled, blushing slightly at my astonishment. "I was a student at the Honorary College for Arts and Literature on the Mainland when my father summoned me away from my studies. He demanded that I meet him on the fields of battle."

"Ah," I said, Calum's distaste for the war clicking into place. "You preferred your studies to bloodshed."

"I object to the war on many fronts," he swore bitterly.

"Art and literature?" I asked, my fanciful tone coming across a touch too judgmental. "Those are strange interests for a would-be Laird."

Calum laughed, dispelling my critique. "I studied painting."

"Really?" My mouth fell open in surprise.

"I do not paint myself. Rather, I tracked the impact of history and politics on artists and how it influenced their work. It was, yes, a silly occupation, and a fascinating one. At the time I was the youngest of eleven." He looked at me sideways, smiling deliberately, his eyes glittering.

Taken aback, I turned to stare him down. "You have ten siblings?" I demanded, my voice rising in utter astonishment. A chill shivered down my limbs. Suddenly Calum's near-perfect understanding of me made sense.

He smiled wistfully and nodded. His brows knit together, and he looked down at his hands. "You see, I could afford my flights of fancy." Calum sniffed. "And, now you know that I also know what it is like to be forgotten."

Calum's dark eyes softened as he looked at me. The familiar intensity of them slipping into something gentle and pained. His entire posture softened.

I nodded. "You were not important," I whispered, feeling the familiar ache that followed any recollection of my family. Not quite grief, not exactly bitterness.

He spared me a pitiful smile, and that's when I realized...

"Where are they now?" My question was a whisper on the wind. If Calum was now Laird Grant, there was nothing but tragedy yet to be revealed.

"Dead," he answered, his voice flat. His eyes went blank, and then hard. He sniffed and clenched his jaw. "My father and six brothers on the battlefields. Two sisters in childbirth, the other two to illness. My mother died when I was very young... from white fever."

I placed my hand on his arm, agony tearing through my chest. "I am so sorry, Calum. If I had known... you could have refused to go with me today!"

He shrugged, darkness creeping across his features, one that lurked beneath the jovial exterior he wore so well. "Helping others helps me remember her. Everyone always said she was good and kind... I don't mind helping you today if I can pass on that goodness."

I slid my hand down to his wrist and looped my arm under his. Holding my hand in mine, I hoped he saw it for what it was, a gesture of sympathy and comfort. "I think that is lovely, Calum."

We completed the rest of our ride in comfortable silence.