’Twas one thing to arrive unannounced at a small country manor, like Ember Hall. Quite another to attempt entry at one of England’s mightiest fortresses. Especially when the earl may have been warned of Callum’s treachery.
He forced such negativity from his mind. He must do whatever it took to reach Frida and hold her in his arms.
Tristan appeared to be looking at something over his shoulder, as if too embarrassed to meet his gaze. “’Tis a long ride to Wolvesley,” he intoned. “And your man, Arlo, is not strong enough for it yet. But I will ask the kitchen to make provisions for your journey back across the border.”
With that, Tristan de Neville strode away, leaving Callum alone in the courtyard.
He had achieved so much and also so little. He wanted to both punch the air with joy for the freedom of his friends, andalso to growl with frustration. Giving in to a surge of weariness, he rested his arm on the horse’s withers and leaned his head onto his palm. Another journey awaited him. Another long negotiation. Mayhap several.
Whatever it takes.He did not hear the light footsteps coming across the courtyard, nor see Frida’s smiling face until it was inches from his.
“I am not at Wolvesley,” she said, pressing her arms about him.
Callum’s surprise rendered him momentarily speechless. He inhaled her lavender scent. “You are not a figment of my imagination?” He leaned back a little to take her in. Her blue eyes. Her emerald green gown. Her slender fingers, pale against the dark grey of his borrowed cloak.
“Nay, I am real enough.”
“I got here in time,” he said wonderingly, running a hand through her silvery waterfall of hair. “And your brother has forgiven me.”
She put her head to one side, smiling impishly. “I heard also that you have forgiven my brother.”
He gave a great, shuddering sigh of relief. “You were listening all the while?”
She nodded.
“But Tristan said…” He broke off, spinning around to see if Tristan could still be seen.
“I know what Tristan said.” She tossed back her hair with a smile. “’Twas one of the first times in my life that my brother stood back and allowed me to make my own choices.”
“He knew you were there?” Callum’s heart was filling with joy.
“All the time.”
“And he knows about us,” he pressed, wanting to be sure.
Frida’s lips curved into a smile. “I told him the truth about my feelings for you earlier today.”
Callum grasped her hands, hardly daring to believe it. “We have his blessing?”
She moved into the circle of his arms. “I don’t know about that, but he shook your hand, did he not?”
Callum opened his mouth to say more, but Frida put her fingers to his lips. “Allow me to ask a question.”
“Anything.” He held her tightly and thought he might never let her go.
“Can we stop talking about my brother?” she breathed. “And better yet, can you kiss me, please?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Four years later…
The moments justbefore dawn always had a certain magic for Frida. A stillness, as if the world was holding its breath; a promise of renewal, a gift of hope.
The light was milky, making only the smallest impact on the darkness of the night. She could see enough to make out the faint path they were following up the grassy hill, Callum beside her. When he smiled down at her, she could see his white teeth gleaming.
“Nearly there,” he said, holding out his hand so they could walk side-by-side along this final section. She entwined her fingers with his, relishing his warmth.
The tang of sea salt filled the fresh morning air, along with the rhythmic sound of waves crashing onto the small pebble beach far below them. To their left, this year’s lambs began bleating for attention just as the first piping notes of the blackbird’s song trilled from the trees.
