"And a castle full of bairns!"
"Let's no’ get ahead of ourselves," Mhairi said to general laughter.
The air was still alive with feverish excitement, fed by earlier fear, but everyone here had slaved all day to prepare for the siege. His people were overjoyed that everything had ended well, but it was late and they were tired.
Callum swung off Kelpie's back and held his arms up for Mhairi. "Time for bed, my bonny."
She caught his shoulders as he lifted her down. Around them, the crowd dispersed, with people stopping to clap him on the back and express their gratitude to Mhairi. With the way gossip spread around the castle, Mhairi’s spirited defense of her husband would soon reach everyone’s ears, he had no doubt.
When she raised her blue eyes to his, he saw tears glittering in the torchlight. "I feel…I feel like I belong here."
"Och, my lady, ye do."
A misty smile curved her full lips. "I thought I'd always feel like an intruder."
"Yet still ye decided to stay?"
When she cupped his jaw in one tender hand, he felt the contact to the soles of his feet. "Ye know why."
"Aye," he said softly. She'd declared her love proudly to her father. He longed for her to declare it to him, but not in the middle of a bustling courtyard. "Come upstairs, mo chridhe. I have a powerful hunger to be alone with ye."
Hand in hand, they walked toward the steps leading up to the main doors. Behind him, he knew the last few stragglers retired and grooms rushed out to take the horses. But his attention was all for the woman he'd married.
Mhairi was quiet as they crossed the great hall and climbed the stairs to the tower room. Callum’s head swam with sweet memories and anticipation of what awaited him, once he closed the door on the clamorous world and took his darling in his arms.
The last time they’d come up here together was after their wedding feast. Since then, he'd lived through a lifetime. And faced the possibility of his own death. He’d known the rapture of finally claiming his wife as his own, and he’d received the fraught news about the siege.
Not to mention hearing Mhairi confess she loved him.
He knew she must be exhausted. After all, she’d experienced the same whirlwind of emotions as he had. Callum wasn't exactly tired. The drama of the last hours left him on edge.
Jean and Flossie had greeted them downstairs so the tower chamber was empty when he and Mhairi set foot inside. A vast relief flooded him. At this moment, he only wanted to be with Mhairi. With a weary sigh, he dropped his damp cloak across a chair.
"Well, ye did it," she said softly. "Ye brought peace to the glens."
He smiled as he drew away her cloak and tossed it on top of his. "Ye did it, mo chridhe. Without ye there, my meeting with your father would have had a verra different ending."
Callum came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. When she snuggled against him, his heart missed a beat. It wasn't so long since he'd feared that she'd hate him forever. He couldn't yet take her welcome for granted. He bent to kiss the place where her shoulder met her neck.
Her hands dropped to cover his where they rested on her stomach. "I'm awfu’ glad he didnae kill ye."
Callum muffled a laugh at her wry understatement. Although the actual moment when he’d faced the Drummond’s sword hadn't been funny at all. "Och, so am I. I have plans for the next fifty years. A blade between the ribs would spoil them."
A silence fell. He guessed that she, like he, was thinking how close they'd veered toward disaster tonight.
"Are ye no’ going to say it?" he asked gently.
"Och, you'll be unbearable if I do," she murmured.
"Ye said it to your father."
"It was an emergency."
He smiled into her elaborately curled auburn hair, already imagining the moment when he unpinned it and let it float around her shoulders. "Must I place myself in peril of my life before ye admit that you…care for me?"
The shudder that passed through her told him she recalled the events in the Drummond’s tent. "We've had enough brushes with death for the moment. And that goes for both of us," she said firmly. "My plans for the next fifty years involve a quiet life."
"Och, lassie, you'll get awfu’ bored."