The hairs on the back of his neck tingled. “Aye, she’s lovely.”
Valebrook nodded approvingly. “She is, and would make you an excellent wife.”
Callum choked on his breath. “Nae, no milord,” he croaked. “I’m not looking for a wife.”
The earl narrowed his gaze. “Of course. Bound for Panama, aren’t you?”
The reminder settled like lead in his gut. “Aye, I am. No place for a wife.”
He clapped Callum on the back, the familiarity of the gesture discomfiting him. “Come by my study tomorrow after breakfast. We can discuss this venture of yours in South America.”
He pressed his lips into a flat line to avoid smiling at his good fortune. “Of course, milord. I look forward to it.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it. And please, call me Valebrook.” The earl nodded at the pool and strolled to the door, his footsteps echoing.
Callum wasted little time before discarding his clothing and tugging on the knitted wool swimming shorts. Soon he was gliding through the water, his mind finding an odd peace.
He spun about at the edge of the pool and increased his pace, savoring the burn of his muscles.
Swimming gave him power over the water, allowed him to reclaim a bit of what was lost. Never again would he be powerless against it, would let it cut down someone he cared for. Had hebeen stronger on that terrible day long ago, everything would be different. The family that had taken him in would be intact, the shame and guilt of two decades wouldn’t have hardened his heart against loving someone, trusting someone.
When his strength was nearly gone, he curled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, expelling the air in his lungs until he sank to the bottom. The pressure throbbed in his ears as the eerie silence surrounded him. And he counted, slowly. Deliberately. Not allowing the panic to take over as it had before. Forcing his logic and calm to overcome his fear.
Each second that passed was a victory and a punishment, a lash from the whip of his memories, castigating him for his sins. If he had only been stronger, if only…
When he reached his goal, he released his legs and propelled himself to the surface. His empty lungs sucked in air as his entire body trembled, so close to death. But Callum had stopped it, had pushed it away for another few seconds.
No matter how strong he became, how much control he felt, he couldn’t make the world safe enough. All he could do was throw himself in the way of every oncoming problem, tackle every hurdle as they popped up, even if it meant he never rested.
When he dragged himself from the water and collapsed on the cool tiles beside the pool, his mind flashed to the image Valebrook had suggested. Marriage. Family. Infuriatingly, that pretty woman with the berry lips flitted into the place ofwife, and he opened his eyes in a flash, sucking in enough air to laugh at himself. He was not a man to take a wife.
Nor did he suspect Violet would be his for the taking.
Chapter 8
“Iam a seductivesiren.”
Violet narrowed her eyes at Timothy. “I will not say that out loud.”
“I’m getting you in the proper mindset, darling.” He cleared his throat and raised his voice a half octave. “I am a seductive siren.”
“I am a seductive siren,” she mimicked, her cheeks burning. Even from their position outside the ballroom, she worried about being overheard. There was no need to feed the gossips with any more incriminating tidbits.
“Any man would be fortunate to have me.”
She repeated the phrase with a bit more confidence, and Timothy nodded approvingly.
He clapped his palms on her shoulders and affected a high, feminine voice. “Take me to the gardens and lift my skirts—”
She slapped his hands away. “I amnotsaying that!”
“Then what are you goingto do?”
Her mouth worked for a moment, but nothing came out. Prior to the past year, Timothy had been closest to her sister Rose, the one society had compared Violet to, and she always came up short. Rose was charismatic and beautiful, bold and confident. While Timothy, like Violet, had been thrilled when Rose fell in love and moved to New York to be with her husband, Violet always worried that she’d been the second choice, never quite living up to the standard her younger sibling had set.
Rose wouldn’t hesitate to flirt with a stranger, nor would she refrain from having an affair if she wanted it. And Violet deserved some fun in her life, some pleasure before she settled into a loveless marriage. She needed to prove to herself that she was capable of being exciting, spontaneous, even the slightest bit rebellious.
“I—I’m going to bewanton. I merely need a moment to… plan my attack.”
