"I'm no’ giving ye up, lassie." He wondered if she heard the tightness in his voice.
Disappointment filled her eyes, along with grim acceptance. "That's what I thought you'd say, Mackinnon. I'm sorry to hear it. For a moment there, I thought I might be talking to a reasonable man with his eyes on the future wellbeing of his people and mine. I should have known better."
Callum hid a wince. Her words stung because, while he believed he was that reasonable man, she consigned him to another category altogether.
He didn't like her contempt. He didn't like the picture of him that she held in her mind. He didn't like to think that she’d given her heart to another man.
But he couldn't let her go. Not just because of his political aims. Mhairi Drummond was the one for him. Surely she must see that soon. To him, it was as clear as the delicate little nose on that flower face.
Still, his heart was heavy with guilt and what felt like failure as he bowed and took his leave of her.
Chapter 12
Feeling downhearted and defeated, Mhairi stepped inside the tower room. Every time she thought she might be about to convince the Mackinnon to see sense, he retreated to the stubborn conviction that his way was the only way.
Seeing John and knowing his mission to arrange her release was doomed before it began just reminded her of all she'd lost. Through her whole life, she'd had to cope with stubborn, opinionated men. She knew what that set jaw meant in the Mackinnon's handsome face. Nothing short of the crack of doom would shift him from this disastrous course.
She was going to come to grief with him. It made her want to give him a good slap. Last night, when Jean had locked him out, she'd felt like she'd won a victory. She didn't feel that way now.
Fighting the cowardly urge to weep, she looked up to see Sheena observing her from the other side of the room. Both younger maids took what chances they could to pinch her and pull her hair, but Sheena's fingers were by far the most vicious.
All urge to weep faded, and she drew herself up to her full height. "Leave me."
"Aye, mistress, I will." The girl stepped forward. "But first I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say."
"As long as you're no’ pinching me while ye say it," she said sharply.
Bruises covered her arms. Proof of how the people of Achnasheen loathed her for being a Drummond. How on earth did Black Callum imagine she'd ever reconcile herself to living here as his wife?
Shame darkened the girl’s brown eyes. She was a pretty lass, with thick curly black hair and a comely face. "I shouldnae have done that. It's clear ye dinnae want to be here any more than we want you to stay. I'm sorry I hurt ye."
An apology? That was unexpected. Warily Mhairi regarded someone who at best had treated her with sullen
obedience, and then only when Jean scolded her. "Are ye?"
"I willnae do it again."
"Thank ye," she said, not trusting the girl an inch. "I'd appreciate that."
"In fact, I want to help ye."
Help? This wasn’t what she’d expected to hear. "Oh?"
"Aye, without help, you'll never get away from the castle. Especially when the laird is so set on ye staying."
"He is at that. So why would ye risk your place here by offering me a way out?"
The girl shifted closer, and Mhairi couldn't like the sly look in her eyes. But what if this really was a chance to escape?
As soon as the Mackinnon shoved her into this luxurious prison, she'd recognized that unless she grew wings, she couldn’t break free unaided. One door out of the room led to one staircase, and that led only to the great hall where there was always someone to stop her getting any further.
If she was to get away, she needed an ally. Yet nobody called Mackinnon was likely to help anybody called Drummond. And it was clear that the young laird commanded his clan’s loyalty.
Or so she’d believed. Was she wrong?
"A lot of us dinnae like the idea of the laird cozying up with the Drummonds. A lot of us have good reason to hate anyone of that name. A lot of us think Callum Dubh should choose a bride from his own people, someone who understands him and his ways."
"You, for instance?" Mhairi asked dryly, as so many things became clear, not least Sheena’s hatred for her. The girl’s immediate loathing seemed more personal than the long-standing feud justified.