She huffed out a breath. “Are those my only options?”
“Yes. Now, which will it be? And I don’t have a wedding suit with me, nor do I feel like burying a body in this weather.”
Could she be the girl who would carry on a temporary affair with a handsome man? Everyone in society thought her capable of it. Her virginity wasn’t an issue anymore, thanks to Mr. Townsend, nor was finding an acceptable alternative for her impending engagement. If her fate—marriage to the lamentable Sir Phineas—was inevitable, why not experience some pleasure? For once, could she do something fun, something bold? She wrinkled her nose and exhaled sharply, squaring her shoulders. “I’ve made my decision.”
Timothy raised a tawny brow. “And?”
“Shag.”
Chapter 2
“You don’t hate me.”
Callum fixed his cousin James with a scowl. “I beg to differ.” Between the growling tone and his Scottish brogue, thicker having spent the last three frigid months in Orkney, he doubted the man understood him. He’d convinced the local government in Kirkwall to go forward with his proposal to dredge deeper channels between the islands, clearing the way for faster shipping out of Inverness. Callum preferred the din of the shipyard to an office, the constant noise and chaos creating a hum that settled him, soothed him. In the silence, his dark thoughts crept in. If he could only—
“Ah, and just that quickly, I’ve lost you again.” James wagged a scolding finger in his direction, a gesture less intimidating than intended because Callum was almost a head taller. “You can get back to your bridges and canals in two weeks, when the party is over.”
“It’s achannel,” he grumbled as he snagged a glass of amber liquid from a passing footman. This far south, he doubted it wouldrival the Islay whisky he’d been savoring for the past few months, but anything with a proof higher than zero was preferable to stark sobriety.
James snickered and took his own glass, sipping, then smacking his lips. “Not bad for some English toffs.”
“Hauld yer tongue,” Callum barked, but his cousin merely smirked, accustomed to the reprimands about his behavior in public.
But James was always better at these sorts of events. He’d managed to weed out the worst of his brogue during their shared years at Harrow, rubbing elbows with boys tossed from Eton for poor conduct. Callum, with his nearly impenetrable Highlands speech and status as an orphan, although one taken in by a wealthy relation, was a frequent target of puerile mischief, and therefore learned to speak as little as possible. While Callum did his best to disappear—a difficult task once his height shot well over six feet and shoulders and chest widened to match—James mimicked the ways of England’s elite, matched them, and became a popular member of Edinburgh’s social circuit, even sharing his charismatic charm as far as London.
Callum had no qualms about missing out; he could focus on James’s family business. Technically, Taggart Maritime was Callum’s family business as well, but James had inherited it from his father, while Callum’s inheritance was the secret his uncle had kept until his death the year prior. After what the Taggarts had done for him, taking him in when he’d lost everything, Callum would do anything to keep the business alive.
Including attending a bloody house party packed with Sassenach numpties.
“You’ll have to speak to Valebrook at some point.”
“I ken,” Callum grumbled, eyeing their approaching host.
The Earl of Valebrook looked every inch the English aristo as he crossed the room, with a mawkish patterned waistcoat and matching tie, his graying hair slicked with pomade, eyes sparkling. “Callum Hawthorne,” he greeted him, clapping him on the shoulder. “How wonderful you made it.”
Callum forced a smile to his lips. It hurt a bit. “Thank ye for the invitation, milord.”
Valebrook waved his hand as though he were sweeping away the gratitude. “Please, this is a casual event. My wife would have my head if I allowed you to address me with such formality.”
Callum looked down at the stiff fabric of his white tie and starched jacket that might burst at the seams if he so much as sneezed. Casual event? “I apologize, mi—Valebrook. Ye remember my cousin, James Taggart.”
He hoped the earl wouldn’t remember James; Callum had made careful excuses to keep his cousin out of negotiations, desperate to contain the true state of the company’s books to himself for a little longer. James only attended the final meeting to accept the bank draft with Valebrook’s investment, one that allowed Callum to sleep for the first time in weeks. “I remember,” the earl drawled, shaking James’s hand, then turning his attention back to Callum. “How did the work in Shetland turn out?”
This time, Callum’s smile was genuine. He let his fingers wrap around the gold watch the Scottish Parliament had gifted him for closing the project early and under budget. “Better than expected, given the weather. The hydraulic miner cut the labor in half and will allow the channel to open later this month. Without yer investment, we couldnae’ve purchased it.”
Valebrook beamed, and satisfaction warmed Callum’s belly. “Fantastic, so glad to hear it. What’s next for Taggart Maritime, then?”
Christ, they were mere minutes into the party, and already the opportunity for his next big ask had fallen into his lap. “Panama, milord.”
The earl’s eyes widened, and James shuffled on his feet. Callum knew James disliked the idea of venturing into the Americas, but without Valebrook’s investment, and those of his peers, the doors would close on Taggart Maritime before the year was out.
“Panama.” Their host huffed out a breath. “Didn’t the French pull out their attempts at a channel?”
“Yes,” James interjected. “Because of the fatalities.”
Callum glared at his cousin. Yes, Europeans had been scheming about building a passage across the Central American isthmus since the seventeenth century, and the French were only the most recent to fail. But the Americans, braw idealists that they were, had put out word they wanted to make a go of it.
“They lack the proper equipment,” Callum said. “Taggart Maritime will change that, revolutionize the world of global shipping.”He leaned closer to the earl. “Can ye imagine the money there is to be made, the lives saved, if we bypass the Strait of Magellan?”
