Inverness was bustling, as usual, and the shouts of vendors rent the air. Tara clung to Callum’s arm as they walked through the crowded streets. They passed a blind beggar playing a fiddle, and Callum placed a coin in his cap. He was kind in that way.
Tara gazed up at her husband in admiration. Since her wedding, she had come to see what a decent man Callum was. He was good to his servants and clansmen and seemed to have an open door at Raigmoor to anyone who needed counsel or help. So the place was always full of comings and goings, more so since their wedding, he said, ‘because folk come with no reason other than to gawp at my lovely new bride.’ He had said that with great affection, and it had warmed Tara a little inside to think he took pride in her.
He was fiercely protective of his clan, too. Already the farmhouse which had been burned by the cattle thieves on their wedding day had been rebuilt by men Callum had sent. His tenants looked up to him. ‘They know my Laird is firm but fair,’ the crusty old Greaves would say of his master.
Callum looked handsome today, so tall and strong. The day was unseasonably dry and warm for spring, and the sun kissed his face, softening his stern countenance and lightening his hair to a soft brown. It was long and wild at the collar of his jacket. She must cut it soon, but that was fraught with danger. She would have to touch him, and whenever she did, it would lead to bed and sinful things.
The thought gave her such a twist of longing and confusion. Callum seemed to have a great need to lie with her. At all times of the day, he would grab hold of her and lay her down, his manhood prodding at her body. Their couplings were often rushed in the heat of the moment when the urge came upon him, and Tara would bear it as best she could. He seemed in haste to expel his lust and be done with her. Other times, Callum would go slowly and gently, as if he meant to be tender with her, but that was worse, for her agony of pretending would be prolonged.
It was not that the act was unpleasant. Quite the opposite, for of late, she had felt a powerful arousal at his touch and a desire to truly join with him. But then he would see her true self - the wanton, shameless slattern that folk gossiped about. He would see her as a whore, something low and dirty. So Tara tried to be dutiful and obedient and hide her confusion. And when that beat of lust surged in her loins, she would bite her lip, and her uncle’s outrage when he had come across her kissing Callum would slide into her head. ‘Rutting in the barn with the animals like a common strumpet,’he had said, and the cruelty of his words still had the power to sting and make her cheeks burn with shame.
She had to keep herself honourable and not give in to who she really was, for Tara was determined not to give up another part of herself, not for anyone.
‘Callum. Callum Ross,’ came a cry from across the market square. A statuesque blonde woman was furiously waving. She was accompanied by a black-haired man. She waddled over, her belly straining against her skirts. Tara’s heart sank as she recognised her from the gathering. It was Orla Munro of the shocking reputation and wicked husband.
‘This is well met,’ she said, puffing slightly. ‘We were just saying we must congratulate you on your nuptials.’ Her eyes darted Tara’s way with a great deal of curiosity.
Introductions were made, and though Callum and Wolfric were acquainted, they seemed rather stiff with each other. Tara could scarcely look at Wolfric Munro, who was fearfully handsome and stared openly at her.
‘I see you have outdone yourself, Ross. Quite the beauty of the county you have there,’ he said with a smile at Tara.
Orla Munro elbowed him sharply in the ribs. ‘Do I not get a mention seeing as I am carrying your bairn in my belly, you scoundrel?’ she said, laughing. Then she frowned and put her hand to her mouth.
‘Oh God, now I am in trouble,’ said Wolfric, leaning in to kiss her cheek. ‘I think you are radiant, dearest, and there is more of you to be thankful for every day,’ he added with a smirk, which earned him another elbow in the ribs.
‘Aye, for already, I am like a fat goose waddling about everywhere.’
Wolfric Munro seemed inordinately pleased with himself. ‘I am hoping for twins,’ he said, spreading his palm on Orla’s belly. ‘Two big, strong lads to carry on the family name.’
‘I do hope they are not too big,’ said Orla, going a little pale. Suddenly, she turned and vomited into a nearby horse trough.
‘Is your wife unwell?’ said Callum.
‘No, ‘tis what women do when they are with child. She will recover in a moment.’
Tara rushed to Orla as the men carried on talking. ‘Are you alright?’ she asked.
‘Oh, I am well enough,’ said Orla, wiping her mouth on a kerchief. ‘Tis the bairn troubling me. He is just like his father and not even born yet. I will be alright now that I have brought up my breakfast.’
Strands of wild blonde hair had come loose from Orla’s bun, and she had a face the colour of chalk, yet she somehow managed to look pretty with her striking, somewhat fierce, green eyes.
‘So how is it being married to Callum? It can be quite a shock, can it not? But, of course, it is not without its benefits too, if you know what I mean,’ she said with a leer. ‘I am so glad he is wed, for I have often hoped he would find a good lass to settle with. Raigmoor is such a lonely, dreary old place, don’t you agree?’ Orla rattled on, not seeming to require an answer to her questions. ‘Gods, aren’t you bored stuck up there with no company? I know I should be.’
‘I have Callum for company,’ offered Tara.
Orla rolled her eyes. ‘Precisely. That is why you must visit us at Blackreach, or I could visit you, I suppose. That is if I am made welcome?’
Her fierce green eyes bore into Tara. ‘Of course, you are welcome,’ she sputtered. It did not seem as if she was being given much choice in the matter.
Orla beamed. ‘Excellent. So we have a plan.’
There was an easy confidence and friendliness about Orla Munro that was at odds with Fenella’s account of her. But her stare was too invasive, and Tara longed to get away. When she looked back, Wolfric had turned to talk to some acquaintances, and Callum came over to them.
‘Are you recovered, Orla?’ he said.
‘Aye, ‘tis nothing.’
Tara felt Orla’s bright eyes flick between the two of them, and she squirmed under their scrutiny. Just then, she spotted a friendly face.