“Well you shouldn’t.” Her nostrils flared, and now he could see the telltale quiver of her chin. “You want to protect your cousin, and my scandal would only get in your way. I respect your wish to distance yourself from me—”
“I willnae distance myself from ye,mo luaidh.”
“You can’t have both,Callum!”
The surrounding glass had fogged over, insulating them from the outside world. He wished they could stay like this, hidden from sight and from the demands of their lives. That he could be a different man, one not scarred by wounds from the past that seemed hellbent on stealing his future.
Unless she was right, and he was sabotaging himself. “I’ll take the risk. Ye’ve hurt enough, and ye deserve the future ye want.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Then no more of…” She touched her fingers to her lips and shook her head. “At least not when we’re in private. There’s no point.”
Did she regret the kiss? A primal need wound around his chest, the need to prove to himself, to prove toher, that the kiss was not a mistake, that she wanted it as badly as he did.
But Callum Hawthorne was not that man. “Aye, no more.”
He must have imagined the regret that crossed her features as she cleared her throat. “We’ll go for a ride tomorrow morning and make it look as though we’ve engaged in a tryst. If all goes to plan, I will be ruined before luncheon, and you won’t even have to touch me.”
She said it as though touching her would be a burden for him, but instead of arguing the point, he inclined his head. “May I walk ye—”
“No need.” She left the atrium in a rush of fabric, the door snapping shut behind her, the imprints of his palms on the glass still visible in the condensation.
Chapter 17
Violet fought the urgeto gag as she prodded the bottom of Aunt Margaret’s foot. Her aunt peered over her bare toe and raised a brow. “Is it a mole or a boil?”
“A blister.” She tugged the silk stocking over her aunt’s ankle and extracted herself from her position on the chaise beneath the woman’s legs. “I told you not to wear those heels for dancing.”
Her aunt leaned against a mound of pillows and waved her arm as though brushing aside Violet’s concerns. “Life is far too short to worry aboutblisters, darling. Besides—” Her hazel eyes sparkled. “I noticed you and your delightful Scot weren’t present for dancing tonight. I hope you were off causing trouble somewhere together.”
“Aunt Margaret!” Violet spun away and covered her mouth with her hand as Margaret chortled. She hoped her lips weren’t swollen still, although thinking of Callum sent heat pooling low in her belly, followed swiftly with regret. The kiss had muddled everything between them. Their arrangement was supposed to be simple, a bit of playacting until she was discovered.
But then they’d started sharing confidences, and his words and touches had been tender and warm. She’d glimpsed the man beneath the surface, someone she suspected he’d never revealed, and she wanted more of him.
Margaret took a long sip of her sherry. “Are you denying you were with Kilty McBrooderson?”
“I wasn’t—that’s not his name.”
“I’m far too old to be expected to remembernamesat this point, but I haven’t forgotten your absence. I need to maintain my reputation as your chaperone—”
“You fell asleep on a footman’s lap after luncheon today. He was terrified to move.”
She had the decency to look a bit chagrined. “He was ever so comfortable. Perhaps I could persuade Valebrook to part with him when I return to Hampshire.”
Violet wasn’t about to pass up a change of topic when handed to her on a sherry-soaked platter. “I would hate for you to be lonely when you go back.”
She pressed her wrinkled hand to her forehead. “I do suffer all alone. The boredom is dreadful sometimes.”
“Perhaps you’d like to have some company for a while.” Violet sat gingerly next to her aunt’s feet. “I was thinking Hampshire might be a nice place for me to pass the time—”
“Oh, no.” Her eyes sharpened like a hawk spotting its prey. “You girls have used my home to escape your romantic troubles too many times. After the difficulties you and your sisters have caused your family, you’re lucky Sir Phineas is still willing to take you.”
Bile rose in her throat. “He’s not a good man, but I can’t convince Mama and Papa of it.”
The woman lifted her chin, and Violet saw a flash of the woman who’d thrown society’s expectations back in their faces decades ago. “Tell me more. I’ll listen.”
The ache of foreboding returned to her chest. “A friend of mine from our debutante days warned me about him when she learned he was courting me. Her maid had been in Sir Phineas’ household before working for my her. She said—” Her voice cracked and she paused, pulled in a full breath. “He would take advantage of the girls who worked for him. More than once, a girl found herself with child, and he sent her away with no reference.”
Margaret’s growl would have made Callum proud. “What a pigeon-livered hornswoggler.” She thumped her cane on the floor beside her, certainly waking whomever was asleep below. “The man dares to lecture others on their morality and acts like the worst of fiends?” She leaned towards her niece. “And you’ve told your father this? And your mother?”
