Shame burned her cheeks as she nodded her head. “I tried, but Papa didn’t believe me.”
“Ridiculous,” Margaret grumbled. “It’s true you have terrible taste in men, but your ears and eyes are perfectly functional.”
She wasn’t sure how to reply to that and distracted herself by taking down her hair, combing the long locks with her fingers before pulling them into a tight plait. “Thank you?”
“I understand you’d want an alternative to that wretch, but are you certain you should throw yourself at another fellow you hardlyknow? Not every man who kisses you in the dark is yearning to spend the rest of his days with you. Do you think the Scottish lad intends to ask for your hand?”
Her stomach clenched, and for a moment she allowed herself the pleasure of fantasy, pictured him standing at the end of a long aisle in an ancient church, beaming at her as though she hung the moon. Want, deeper than mere lust, threw its hook into her ribs and pulled at her chest.
But she’d had that fantasy before, once with Hugh waiting for her, and later with Gregory. Ice flooded her veins. “No, I don’t believe he does.”
“Then what are you doing sneaking off with him?”
“I know, I know.” Violet stared out through the window into the inky black night. She wanted to trust Callum, to believe his kiss meant the connection between them was significant, but to what end? Even if he wanted to marry her, she wouldn’t accept a man who was determined to spend his life running from demons of his own design.
“Just be careful, dear girl.” Margaret drained the rest of her sherry, smacked her lips, and fixed Violet with the look of a woman for whom life held very few remaining surprises. “The boy seems like a clever sort, isn’t he?”
Violet smiled, despite the ache in her chest. “He’s very clever.”
Her slow smile deepened the wrinkles in her cheeks. “Then it won’t be long before he sees what is right in front of him.”
Chapter 18
“Ye are a stupidanimal.”
A large brown eye narrowed at Callum before its owner snorted. Apparently, the disdain was mutual.
Callum squared his shoulders and brought himself to his full height. “Aye, that was overly harsh. But ye have a job to do, as do I, so we’ll get along for as long as it takes, a’ight?”
The horse stomped his hoof and snorted again, his breath clouding in the crisp morning air. His knees had wobbled when the groom led out what must have been the largest stallion in Yorkshire, then chuckled at Callum’s expression of horror. He wasn’t frightened of horses, per se, and had found himself on horseback more than once, but he took pains to make sure those encounters were as short as possible.
“What a handsome boy!”
Callum preened for less than a moment when Violet stepped forward and rubbed her gloved fingers down the horse’s forehead. “Such a beautiful animal.”
The beast was already smitten with Violet and nuzzled her hand with its muzzle, earning a giggle. Callum fought the urge to scowl as she pressed a kiss to the beast’s forelock, then turned her attention,finally, to him. “Thank you for meeting me.”
He’d barely slept the night before, the ghost of her palms on his chest, her lips on his, stealing any chance of rest from him. “I told ye I’d help ye.”
Had she forgiven him for kissing her in the atrium? He’d been certain she wouldn’t grace him with her company that morning, that he’d ruined whatever was growing between them. How could he explain what he’d started to feel for her? Attraction, yes, and friendship. He’s experienced those before, and both were fleeting. But this felt different, dangerous. And his life was dangerous enough already. “I was thinking about your concerns,” she said, stepping forward with a smile to take the reins of a far more reasonably sized, dapple-gray mare. Callum followed with his beast as she led her mount into the stable yard. “You shouldn’t be blamed, so I’ll make sure Valebrook knows I was the one who initiated… whatever happens. You’ve been a complete gentleman, and no one should call that into question.”
He paused as she swung her skirt about to climb onto the mounting block, and he got a good look at the delightful picture she painted in the low morning sun. Her riding habit was the color of the lavender fields outside Inverness, trimmed with dark plum velvet. The jacket panels cut across her torso to emphasize the slight swell of her bust, the flare of her hips. And when climbed into the saddle and looped her knee around the pommel, she treatedhim to a perfect view of her plump bottom. He wondered if she wore a bustle; she didn’t need padding to make the sight any more delicious.
“Riding horseback is typically more enjoyable if you sit on the horse. Are you planning to take it for a walk?”
Callum blinked and brought his attention to the smirk on her berry lips. “Aye, I mean, no.” He rubbed his hand down his face and was surprised to find perspiration dotting his brow in the morning chill. He managed to mount, grateful Violet had already gone ahead, so she missed his awkward lunge onto his beast. Once he had finally settled into the saddle, he could have sworn the horse’s snort sounded like a chuckle.
Violet led the way out of the enclosure and onto a path that he knew meandered around the property.
He’d only gotten a taste of this remarkable woman, far less than he’d settle for. Prior to that night, he thought his attraction was one-sided, but no. She’d kissed him back. And if her reputation was bound to suffer for licentious activities, he resolved to give her as much pleasure as possible.
It was the charitable thing to do, after all.
But wanting her had surpassed the superficial level. He’d never meant to share so much with her, nor for her to see beyond the sequence of events to the scars that criss-crossed his heart. He didn’t tell her how Ewan’s death changed the landscape of his life, how it pulled the shattered pieces of his soul in different directions until he didn’t know where he belonged anymore. But he believed she knew, without him needing to explain, because he’d never beenable to describe what grief had done to him, even after having two decades to live with the burden. She’d only had a year since her loss, and she had a better sense of herself than he ever had.
She was a marvel.
While his life lurched from one outpost to another, she had a plan, a clear path. And he couldn’t help but wonder if he could have any place in it.
