Heart of Stone by Rebecca Ruger
Chapter Seventeen
She still hadn’t metGabriel Jamison, even though she and the girls had spent some time in the keep’s hall. They broke their fast together, but seemed to be late-comers, as the hall was mostly empty. A kitchen lass, whom Brida said was called Asgal, informed Julianna, “The MacKinnon said t’ tell ye he’d be gone all morning, and that you and the little ones were t’ stay close t’ the keep.”
Thus, Julianna and the girls wandered out of doors shortly after breakfast. Blackwood, it seemed, was a busy place. The yard itself was thrice the size of Kinclaven’s, and the smithy shed alone mayhap twice as big as any Julianna had ever seen. She noted that the stables were a separate building entirely, housed directly across from the keep and other structures, the rear half of its roof making up the lower and north side of the wall that surrounded the entire castle. Smoke and the glorious scent of baking bread drifted toward her from a round-top bakehouse at the rear of the yard, which stood unconnected from any other building. Soldiers manned the wall above, thick-helmed young men standing in groups of two and three in different areas atop the battlements.
Boldly, Julianna did not hesitate to lead the girls through the open gate, as people walked in and out of the yard all around them. Folks stared at them of course, their appearance striking for their matching haircuts and then being so blatantly unfamiliar to these denizens.
As they had no plans and neither a destination they only followed the rutted lane away from Blackwood. Marta let go of Julianna’s hand at one point to dash off into the tall grass and heather, chasing a pair of redwing birds who’d taken flight. When they’d gone beyond her hope of catching them, she spread her arms wide and romped gracefully about, the grass reaching as high as her hips in some spots.
“Maybe we could stay here,” Brida said, rather out of the blue, harking back to their earlier conversation.
Julianna and Helen turned to consider her. Barbara was listening but kept her gaze on the ground where her steps took her.
“We cannot impose upon the Jamison in such a manner,” Julianna said. “We don’t even know him. It is not his responsibility to take on five more mouths to—”
Brida cut in, “But if we labored, if we contributed or had jobs here, we would no’ be a burden, but...helpful.”
Julianna considered this, but only because she didn’t want to shoot down Brida’s hopeful expression. “Blackwood seems to run smoothly enough. What if they have no need for more females servants?”
“Castles always have need of hard workers,” Barbara advised sagely.
Julianna paused and pivoted, looking back at the large castle, chewing on the idea. She knew that she would not be keen to reside in a place that Calum MacKinnon might regularly visit. She thought her heart could not stand such torture as that. But she said to Brida, “I suppose we might inquire of the possibility.”
Helen pointed to the thick woods of birch trees to their left. “Look. The ground is all purple inside there.”
Indeed, it was, that they began to walk in that direction to investigate. Julianna called for Marta to join them, as she’d gone quite far in her cavorting. They moved into and through the trees, marveling at the glory of these woods. It was a breathtaking spot, the trees tall and straight, the lowest limbs so far above their heads, and so much space between all the birch that a sweet groundcover of violets and red clover and cowberry flourished, making for a colorful carpet inside this wooded area, presently bathed in the sun’s warmth.
Julianna turned to gauge how far they’d gone. She could still see the edge of the woods, and fragments of the castle through the trees. “No further, girls. It’s a lovely spot, but I’d rather not lose ourselves too deep.”
One after another began picking the soft purple blooms, Marta occasionally yanking so hard that her small bouquet contained as much dirt and roots as it did flowers. There were patches of butterwort and wood sage as well that Julianna sat in one spot and was able to gather a surplus of blossoms so that she began to twist the stems together into a crown. The girls did likewise, forming a haphazard circle, though Helen and Marta jumped up often to claim flowers out of their reach. Julianna showed them how to weave the crown, splitting the thicker stem near the bloom that another stem and leaf could be threaded through.
“You can tie and knot them of course,” she said, “but sometimes that breaks the whole stem away.”
“We won’t ever go back to Murkle, will we?” Marta asked at one point when she’d been still for a wee bit, only her hands busy in her lap.
“Not ever,” Julianna said with emphasis. “I won’t allow it.” She set her finished crown onto her head and began another. “We’ll make our own way, the five of us. And we’ll not ever again allow any person to steal what belongs to us—ourselves and our freedom.”
“Ooh,” cooed Helen, “sounds verra fine. And verra bold.”
“As we are,” Julianna reminded them.
“Mine keeps breaking,” Marta complained, her shoulders dropping with envy when she spied the wreath atop Julianna’s head.
“Come, love. I’ll help.”
Marta crawled near, sitting close enough that her knee touched Julianna’s where her legs were crossed under her skirt.
Seconds later, the sound of horses coming gave Julianna a moment’s fright, certainly as the riders were cutting through the trees towards them. Before she might have jumped to her feet to hide herself and the girls, she caught sight of the MacKinnons’ plaids, the blues and gray and blacks, seen and then not as they moved through the trees.
In the next moment, Calum and his men and one other man came upon Julianna and the girls, towering over them from the height of their great destriers. Calum’s inscrutable gaze fixed on Julianna.
“Aye, ‘tis a faerie garden then,” said Finn. “The queen faerie and her wee folk.”
“A wee fey paradise,” Julianna allowed with a soft grin. “How did you know we were here?”
“Ye ken you walk through the grass, it leaves a nice trail,” Artur informed them, his thin eyes leaving Julianna to settle on Marta, “with one path just crooked and slapdash enough that I ken who that one belonged to.” He finished that with a broad wink at Marta that made her giggle.
“Julianna,” Calum called her attention, “meet Gabriel Jamison, our host here at Blackwood.”
She moved to stand but the man wouldn’t have it.
“Dinna rise on my account, lass. ’Tis pleased I am to meet you and gratified as well to offer the shelter.”
Brida hadn’t misspoken. Gabriel Jamison was very handsome. Indeed, he was older than Calum, by several years mayhap, but he wasn’t yet near Finn or Artur’s age. He was possessed of a crop of unruly red-brown hair and his eyes were devilishly charming, with enough creases squinting out from the corners that she might suppose he laughed often.
“You are very kind, sir, and I hope you will accept my sincere appreciation for what you’ve done for us.” She made a vague hand motion to indicate she spoke of the girls. “You’ve met all these pretty lasses, I understand.”
“I have and it truly is my pleasure to be of assistance. We’re happy to have all of you.” He then addressed Calum. “Aye, but I’m off now. My steward was expecting me a wee bit ago.”
“Thanks, Gabe,” Calum said, adding, “We’ll get back up to the keep in a while.”
While Gabriel turned his horse around and left them, Julianna watched the MacKinnons, realizing they were all staring at her and the girls, passing glances over the flowers in their hair and the bouquets and other wreaths in their hands or lap. She had to assume they appeared rather absurd, all these wide-eyed females bereft of the glory of a mane, sitting in this idyllic garden of beauty. She steeled herself to meet Calum’s gaze again but wasn’t sure any more than she ever was what darkened his green eyes at this moment.
“Shall we show them where we’ve come from?” Calum asked of his men.
Peadar answered first. “Unless ye ken ye wanted to surprise them when it’s begun for certain.”
“Aye now, it’s certain,” Finn said, “just no’ begun yet.”
“What is it?” Barbara asked eagerly.
Marta jumped up and went to Artur, reaching only as high as his boot that she tipped her head all the way back. “Is it a present? Is it for all of us?”
Artur grinned and reached down his hand to Marta, pulling upward that she was settled behind him, saying as he did so, “Might be, And aren’t ye the curious cat.”
“C’mon then,” Finn encouraged. “Sun dinna stay up there all day.”
That sent Barbara and Helen dashing toward Finn and Peadar, and Brida moving more awkwardly, blushing, toward Tomag. Julianna stood and brushed all the debris from her skirt and thought she might rather ride with Booth. But Calum had dismounted and walked his horse in front of her.
“I dinna want to cause you any pain,” he said in a low voice, referring to how to touch her to get her onto the horse, “but I—”
“Please stop treating me as if I’m breakable,” she beseeched wearily. When he did lift her up into the saddle, she added, “Surely by now, you must know that I am not.”
“Aye, but I’ve always ken that.”
Julianna could not contain a snort as they moved to follow the others. “You do not sound pleased by this.”
“You can be unbreakable and still hold me accountable for the trouble I’ve caused you.”
“I could,” she said on a sigh. “But what would be the point, save to harness more animosity and wedge it between us. It serves no purpose as I will be gone soon.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat and pushed on. “We can put this whole unfortunate affair behind us then, knowing that the people to blame are neither you nor I, not really, but those who plotted against you. All that has befallen me has been a consequence of that original plot.”
He said nothing to this as they rode on. They rode further and further away from Blackwood, over hill and glen and through more wooded areas and then around a blue and sparkling loch. When Julianna was sure they’d been riding for more than ten minutes, they crested a small ridge and descended, stopping in the middle of an open, flat spot. The entire wide space was surrounded on three sides by gently rolling hills of green grass and on the west side by a forest of pines. In the distance, further north, was a greater range of mountains, speckled purple and brown and dark green, the tips nipped by low white clouds.
Curious now, Julianna glanced about as everyone began to dismount, wondering what was expected to be seen here. When she realized that Calum waited for her, she gave her attention to him, leaning down to set her hands on his shoulders at the same time he reached for her. In consideration of her sore back, he lowered her slowly to the ground. Her fingers clenched at the strength and breadth of his shoulders and despite her efforts, she couldn’t keep her gaze from darting to his. He was watching her, expectantly it seemed. She thought he wanted to say something as his mouth opened at the same time her feet touched the ground. She stared up at him, waiting, her hands yet on his shoulders, his on her waist. As ever, she struggled to read his expression, and was of a mind to reject outright the idea that he appeared uncertain and unsure. Of its own accord and while he displayed a hint of unprecedented uncertainty, Julianna’s gaze fell and lit on his lips.
She was struck by a shock of despondency that their kiss was so far away from them now, so long ago. And then, so unlikely to be repeated. Mentally shaking herself and breathless all of a sudden, she let her fingers slide away from his shoulders even as his hands seemed to tighten on her hips for just a moment before he released her.
Julianna spun away from him then, assailed by heartbreak that he affected her to this degree and with such swiftness when so much remained unfortunate and regrettable between them. She chastised herself for how quickly she’d been returned to that person who’d wished for so much from him in that marvelous space of time when hope had not seemed flawed. How quickly she’d abandoned her intention to remain aloof, to not be swayed by his smoldering gaze or the tenuous promise of his heated regard.
She was pulled from her reverie and returned to their circumstance by Finn’s words reaching her.
“Aye, and we’ll put the big house just there, though we’ll need several I ken with this many people.”
Julianna stopped walking toward where all but she and Calum stood, grouped together many yards away. Her brow creased as Finn’s words began to register, if not make sense.
Artur said, adding to Julianna’s confusion, “Barn and stables on the west side, large enough to block the wind coming over the hills.”
Turning around, she saw that Calum hadn’t moved from the side of his steed. He stood with one hand on the horse’s neck, stroking the coat lightly. But he was watching her, his lips pursed with some conjecture, his eyes unreadable once again. Bewildered, Julianna tilted her head, hearing Peadar say behind her, “All that land of the hills and beyond is fine grassland, make for good pasturelands.”
She listened, but her gaze was yet on Calum, who confused her more by saying, “If you want the whole unfortunate affair done and gone, this will mean nothing to you.”
“This? This, what?”
He lifted his hand, making a vague gesture to the land all around them. “This. Home.”
“I don’t—whose home?” She was beyond mystified now.
While the larger group continued to chatter behind her, Calum gave one last sturdy pat to the horse’s neck and strode toward her.
“I kept thinking about Robbie and Beitris, kept thinking how tempting that kind of life was.”
He stopped less than two feet away from her and said no more that she thought he expected some response to this seemingly unrelated statement. “It is very charming for all its simplicity,” she agreed.
He was thoughtful for a moment longer before continuing. “I dinna ever run away from anything, Julianna, but I’ve no ever...there’s no joy at Caerhayes. Truth be told, I dinna even like my uncle so much. Robbie left for a reason, his da’ leans toward tyranny.” He shrugged. “Never bothered me so much. It was home, I did what was expected as a soldier, as kin to the chief, in all likelihood his heir. But it dinna sit so well with me of late, the way he manages the MacKinnons and Caerhayes.” He tightened his lips for a moment before admitting, “I was no’ pleased with the betrothal, I’ll no’ lie, but years of discipline saw me nod and be on my way, off to Kinclaven and you. Take a wife, get back to the war, I ken.” His eyes and mouth crinkled with some foulness. “But what am I, a lamb? A slave?” He thought about this for a few seconds before shaking his head. “I’ve been to Robbie’s place a hundred times over the last decade. But I never realized how satisfying was Robbie’s life, how utterly perfect, until this most recent visit.”
Her eyes widened but she made no reply, had some notion that he wasn’t done speaking. But her heart had begun to race, and her stomach flipped with a massive dose of expectation.
“Finn has a wife, but aye, he wished he dinna. Artur and the lads, they have no ties to Caerhayes but for me,” he said. “We’d been spooling an idea that we’d strike out on our own, claim some land....” His shoulders lifted again in a shrug, his gaze leaving her to take in the space around them. “Gabriel has offered us these acres.”
Julianna digested this startling revelation. “Cattle and sheep and crops?” Calum? A farmer?
“Peace,” he clarified.
“But the war?” Calum was nothing, she somehow knew, if not a soldier.
“Will be answered. I canna live in peace until Scotland is free. I’m a soldier first, a defender of freedom, but then I’m trapped in...Christ, this is mawkish.” He gave a sheepish chuckle and ducked his head, rubbing his hands together.
Julianna was stunned with...everything, all this insight. But then, she was so enamored with it as well, with all that he’d hinted at, with the very fact that he’d opened himself up to her. She wanted to know more.
“So, you and your men are going to build crofts and farm land and go when the fight comes, but...settle down while you wait, or until the war is done?”
He nodded. “William Wallace is leaving the country or has already. There’ll be no fighting, no magnificent stand against the English until he returns, with or without the aid he seeks.”
“I see.” And now, she wanted the greatest of the questions whirring in her head answered. “What does this have to do with me?”
He met her anxious gaze with his brilliant green eyes. “It’s no’ the only reason, but it is foremost, that Robbie’s situation appealed to me because you were there.”
So, naturally, she was speechless, and possibly gawking like a fool while he waited for her to say something.
She blinked. Twice. Surely, she dreamed. That must be it. She was back at Murkle, not escaped at all. She was in that narrow cot with the blanket not worthy of the name and she was dreaming that Calum had come for her.
“I’m sorry, Julianna, sorry I left you there. I can only say—again—I thought it for the best. And I really thought—I dinna ken, mayhap I only convinced myself—that you’d be happy to be done with us.”
Dreams were wonderful in that you could say what was in your mind and in your heart. If aught was wrong or ill-received, you might only wake and the words disappeared, never said at all.
“I only wanted to be with you,” she confessed in a small voice. Hope is never so far away, after all. “And apparently, I cared not that it might mean a lifetime of captivity.”
“It will no’.”
It was simply too much, even as it wasn’t yet explained fully. Julianna was light-headed and twirled around, which did nothing to steady her buzzing brain, looking for somewhere to sit. There was nothing, not a rock or stump or even a mound of dirt, that Julianna sank to her knees. Calum was at her side in an instant, his hands clasping the tops of her arms, before he lifted one and held it up toward the girls and the MacKinnon men, in what Julianna hazily supposed was in an effort to keep them away.
As he was on his haunches before her, she needed to tilt her face only a wee bit to look into his eyes. More truths wanted to burst forth, but she did in fact understand that she was not dreaming.
Calum dropped further to the ground, onto his knees as well, and with a grand familiarity that made her skin tingle, he set his hands on her thighs. He gripped his fingers lightly around her legs, possessively, and lifted his warm green eyes to her.
Unnerved by more than merely the heat of his gaze, Julianna covered her face briefly before lowering her fingers to her chin. “I don’t understand why you didn’t say this—tell me this.”
“I thought I needed to address Domhnall and Caerhayes first. I dinna want to...promise something I was no’ sure I could make happen.” He pursed his lips, watching her. “And aye, I thought you’d be safer at Murkle. Until it was suggested that your anger might see you take the vows just to spite the whole damn world.”
She was compelled to admit, “Naturally, I did consider it.” For all of three seconds.
“It dinna make sense at all to me, Julianna, but I ken I dinna want the land, the croft, and the sheep if you’re no’ with me.”
Oh my.“I thought you came back for me because, well, because you felt guilty.”
Calum shook his head, his gaze steady and ardent. “That should play into it, lass, and it’s no’ unknown to me for what I’ve put you through, but it’s no’ why I came for you and no’ why I want you with me.”
A frown returned despite the glory of that statement, when she processed his previous words. “What doesn’t make sense about it?”
“That I should be thinking this, any of it. My world might well be upended if what I suppose about my own uncle is true. But aye, I’m speculating that we might find better prices for sheep further south and wondering how big a croft you might want.”
She wanted very much to believe he knew his own mind in this regard. But, they’d known so miserable a beginning, and what hope she’d allowed to blossom had been tossed about with reckless abandon at times, that Julianna was wary yet.
“Calum, but what about Caerhayes? Your home. Can you really—willingly, happily—give up the life you’ve known? What if your uncle banishes you permanently? What would you be—what would you have?”
His response was most remarkable. She hadn’t known him very long all things considered, but she had to imagine that Calum MacKinnon of the fierce scowls and smoldering gaze didn’t often shuffle his feet, even if only figuratively. He did just now, lowering his gaze to their hands in her lap and lifting his wide shoulders in a bare shrug. She thought his cheeks might be tinted with color. His gaze stayed there, on their hands, as he said, “I would have you.”
And just like that, her caution fled, dashed away so easily by those four simple words.
Julianna knew it was not possible to be given all the stars in the sky and sunshine throughout the darkest nights. But she knew as well that even if she were gifted these things, they could not compare to this, could not ever melt her heart so.
Lifting his eyes, he must have deciphered her watery gaze that he circled her neck and gently drew her near as he leaned in. When he touched his mouth to hers, his kiss was tender and reverent. Her eyes drifted closed, her hands covering the one that remained in her lap. No dream could compare to the thrill of his kiss or the feel of his hand or the way every nerve in her body sang with joy. Such bliss.
He didn’t kiss her for so very long that she rather whimpered with some distress when he stopped.
His green eyes were spectacularly vivid today under the morning sun. With a lopsided grin, he lifted his hands and made some adjustment to the silly crown she’d forgotten all about, letting his gaze linger on hers when he was done.
Julianna blinked and reminded him, “Apparently, I now come complete with a passel of sisters, Calum, and we’ve just agreed that we would stay together—”
“This includes them,” he said firmly.
And with that, she was compelled to whisper what had been in her heart for a wee bit now. “I am in love with you.”
She wouldn’t have called his response satisfying; he was either surprised or uncomfortable, his dark brows knitting while he appeared to be reading her. He stared at her for a long time, long enough to redden her cheeks now. Oddly, she didn’t regret the announcement, not one bit; it was what it was, and he should know.
When he spoke, his response shocked her.
“I dinna deserve it.”
By some means, she understood that this was not a deep well, that Calum wasn’t the sort to believe love should be earned. He felt this solely based on what their relationship was, from beginning until now, and the choices he’d made, his behavior toward her.
But she seized on this to explain her own heart to him, as she was yet confused about her feelings. She wasn’t so naïve to have thought that love was all sunshine and flowers, but then she hadn’t been prepared for the gravity of it either, the weightiness of it. She hadn’t expected that a heart might crack so easily, as hers had when he’d left her at Murkle, when she’d thought he only wanted her gone. She let a wee and nervous smile come and said softly, “Respect and loyalty, a decent day’s wage, mayhap friendship, those things should be earned, I suspect. I would think love is more like honor, a person either has it and feels it and knows it or...or they do not. It cannot be trained or taught or commanded. It...it just is.”
He nodded, digesting this, chewing his cheek. But then he said nothing, that Julianna was made to feel awkward, that she laughed uncomfortably, her face surely flushed scarlet by now, and prattled, “Of course, I’ve never been in love before so what do I know? It might be naught but gratitude.” She laughed again, the sound too airy, too forced. “In all probability, it’s only a fine appreciation for not killing me—”
He stopped her frivolous chatter by covering her mouth with his. He cupped her cheeks in his large hands and kissed her senseless in no time, stroking his tongue against her lips and then inside when she opened for him. Julianna clung to his forearms, so thrilled with his touch, and kissed him back with some new and wild abandon until he stopped and drew his mouth away from hers to whisper harshly, raggedly, “Nay, Julianna. I ken you were right with the first part, sometimes it just is.”
Relief flooded her. She smiled, her world perfect, as Calum set his forehead against hers.
From somewhere else, a world away from where they sat, she heard Marta’s sweet voice. “I ken he would kiss her again.”