"Aye, as I will." Authority rang in Callum’s voice.
John raised his head and met his eyes. There was anger there, but intelligence, too. Callum had heard good reports about John, saying that he favored mediation over warfare. Right now, the laddie would happily scrape out Callum's innards with a rusty spoon, but as time went on, he might be willing to negotiate a truce.
Not today, by God.
"I'd like to speak to my cousin alone. I have messages from her father."
He'd wager the fellow did. Orders to put hemlock in Callum's porridge, most likely. "Ye can deliver any messages for the lady here."
"A private communication from a loving parent doesnae require an audience, Mackinnon. Ye may set guards at the door of the room we use."
He raised his eyebrows. "May I indeed?"
Called out on his bad manners, John looked discomfited. "I'm sure she has messages for the laird, too. This is a family matter." When Callum didn’t reply, he went on. "I'd like to assure myself that my kinswoman has been tr
eated well."
Callum very deliberately picked up Mhairi's hand and placed it in full sight on top of the table. Every person in the room stared at those linked hands. John Drummond’s jaw set like granite, and steam all but came out of his ears.
"It's clear the lassie is well and unharmed. And will continue to receive kind treatment here at Achnasheen as befits her rank. Ye may convey that news to the Drummond. I see nae need for a private conversation."
He waited for Mhairi to demand that he reconsider. In his grip, her hand was as tense as fiddle wire. Again, he had to admire her control. She remained silent, although her face was austere and drawn, and expressionless as a marble statue.
"Your father sends his affectionate greetings and a wish for your speedy return to your kin, cousin," John said with difficulty. He still stared at the clasped hands as if he expected a spider to crawl out from beneath them.
"That seems simple enough," Callum said mildly.
John shot him a glance of dislike, but he too would be aware of his precarious situation. He'd cooperate. At least for now. "There is more, but for Mhairi's ears alone."
"Then that must wait," Callum said.
"I'd like to return today with your answer. My cousin's ordeal has already lasted too long. As a gentleman, Mackinnon, you cannae want an innocent, defenseless girl to continue to suffer for nae reason."
"As a gentleman…" He bit off the word which John had spoken like an insult. "…I am most conscious of the lady’s welfare and will do nothing to endanger it or to cause her any needless distress."
He expected Mhairi to accuse him of lying, but she continued to stare into the distance as if this discussion didn’t touch upon her.
"Then a rapid resolution to this unfortunate situation will appeal to ye, as well as to every man with the name of Drummond."
"I will give ye my answer when I have it," Callum said coldly. "In the meantime, ye and your men have beds prepared in the barracks. I'll arrange for a meal while ye wait."
He saw that John wanted to object, but thought better of it. He gave another of those insolent bows and stepped back to join the other Drummonds who were all glowering at Callum.
"I await your timely response, Mackinnon."
"And you'll receive it when it's ready." He gestured for Duff to escort the Drummonds to their quarters, then he stood. "My lady, shall I return ye upstairs?"
"Aye," she said in a low voice. She let him take her arm and lead her away.
His shoulders twitched as he felt every eye in the place focus on the two of them. Speculation would be rife about just what had happened last night between the laird and his captive.
At least the girl seemed to have learned the error of her ways when it came to challenging him in front of his clan. The meeting with John had been balanced on a knife edge. He knew her well enough now to understand that silence hadn’t come easily during that interview with her cousin.
"You're no’ interested in a ransom," she said in a flat voice when they were halfway up to the tower.
He glanced at her. She stared straight ahead, beautiful as ever but somehow out of reach, although he held her arm and walked inches from her side. "No, I’m not."
"Ye made John think you are."