‘I love her, Aunt Meg.’
‘A malady you must conquer. Aye, the lass is bonnie, but that does not make up for her being English. Such bad blood.’ She tutted and shook her head. ‘I say, stand back and let her come to you. A shy dog cowers when a hand is held out to it. Hang back, I say. Leave her be, and do not try and smother her with affection, for that will choke the life out of any love that might blossom, not to mention your pride. She will come around, eventually.’
‘Stay out of it, Aunt,’ said Callum.
‘If you like. Now, forget the lass, for I have no time for such nonsense as I am losing cattle at a ruinous pace. Let us get a wee dram, and I will relate you my woes, Callum.’
A half bottle of whisky later, Aunt Meg’s ire was in full flow. ‘These heathens do not just take cattle and sheep, Callum. Two of my tenants have had their daughters interfered with, and one was carried off for weeks before she found her way back. Used most ill, she was, too. Came stumbling back one day, all torn and bloody, poor lass. Those devils come down from the north and thunder into farms and small villages, demanding money to protect herds. Of course, they are the same men stealing the damned cattle in the first place.’
‘Have any of these men been recognised?’
‘If they have, none will own to it, for the villains cut out the tongues of any who speak out. It is the mark of this awful Baron fellow and it puts the fear of God into folk. And there is worse, Callum. One man, who ran squealing to the magistrate, was found lying in the glen, gutted like a fish.’
‘Can you not find common cause with the other estates hereabouts?’ said Callum.
‘With some, I can, but not everyone has felt the wrath of this Baron fellow. Many think of him as some wild tale, while a few revere him as a hero. Others say he is of the Devil and cross themselves at the mention of his name. I have enemies, and I think this band of outlaws is a weapon that can be pointed in my direction. There is a high hand behind this, not a low one. I sent for you because you cower for no man. Hunt them down on your land, Callum. Set spies as lookouts and ambush these thieving scoundrels before it is too late.’
‘Too late?’
The Baron is a greedy beast who grows ever more powerful and hungry for flesh.’ Aunt Meg put her hand on his. ‘Callum, I will own that I am afraid.’
‘All will be well, Aunt. I won’t let any harm come to you.’
‘Good. See that you don’t. Now send that frightened little chicken of a wife down to see me, and then take yourself off.’
***
Tara smoothed down her plum brocade dress before entering the great hall to face Meg Mortimer. The fabric was very sumptuous and had been one of many dresses Callum had gifted her after their wedding, as he enjoyed spoiling her back then. How things had changed in just a few short weeks.
‘You look well enough, Tara,’ he snarled. ‘No need to fuss. My aunt cares not one jot for appearances.’
‘I must own that she is a little frightening. Why does she want to see me, Callum?’
‘Oh, to bark at you and see if you crumble, I suppose. She has to probe and prod until she finds out all my business. Best be on your guard around her, Tara.’
‘I do so want her to like me, for your sake.’
Callum sighed. ‘I don’t care if she likes you or not. You are my choice, and that’s that,’ he said rather sharply. With these troubling words, he escorted her into the hall to his aunt Meg.
‘So, here she is, your English bride, come in great state to see me,’ boomed Meg Mortimer, waving a hand at Callum. ‘Take your leave. I will not bite at your wife or gnaw on her little bones. Be off with you.’
Tara cast a glance at Callum. His face was a picture of irritation as he walked away, leaving her to the uncomfortable mercies of his aunt.
‘Do not fret at the angry look on your husband’s face, lass,’ said Meg. ‘I like to bait him, and he always rises to a jibe.’ She cackled gleefully. ‘Callum was always a dour lad, no sport at all, too serious like his father. I think he came out of my sister with a scowl on his angry little face, and I see you have not mellowed him.’
‘Another shortcoming on my part,’thought Tara.
Meg’s beady eyes scoured Tara all over. ‘You look sorely put out, lass, and so does my nephew. What is wrong with you two? Out with it.’
‘Nothing, Lady Mortimer. I am content with my situation, and I hope Callum is too,’ said Tara.
‘Content! Bah, what a tepid word, lass. Where is the passion, the fever of new love, the unending, sweet turmoil of it all?’
‘I don’t….’
‘I can see that you don’t make Callum happy. Why?’ she barked.
The loathsome old woman put her face into Tara’s, and it was impossible to keep her secrets. It was as if she was gutted and her innards spilling out for all to see.