Timothy scoffed. “Then get him a role on Drury Lane, because Callum Hawthorne is the most gifted actor of the century.”
Ye’d scream my name, Violet.She stiffened as desire flooded her lower belly. “What do you mean?”
“The man can’t keep his eyes off you. He’s supposed to be getting an investment from Valebrook and his band of elderly earls so he can go to South America—I have been urging the gents along, by the by—and all he can do is watchyou, little miss prim andproper.”
Her pulse thrummed as a dull ache took root in her temples. “That’s not true.”
Do you want it to be real?
Timothy snickered. “You should have seen him when he found that note you left under his door last night. He practically skipped out to the atrium to find you, nearly bowled the butler over in the process.”
Her jaw dropped. “You knew about the note? The atrium?”
“The boards squeak, darling, and the rest I know because I know everything worth knowing—”
She grabbed his forearm to stop the barrage of words. “I don’t believe you.” He opened his mouth to object, but she cut him off. “I mean, Ibelieveyou, but… But it’s nothing. Maybe he’s looking for a few kisses—”
Timothy snorted. “Kisses.”
She raised a silencing hand. “But there is no future with him, withus. You know how I am with men, and if I let myself think he wants me for more than—” she glared, “—kisses, I’ll fall for him, then be heartbroken when he leaves.”
The humor drained from Timothy’s face. “You aren’t the best at keeping your heart indifferent. It’s one of the things I adore about you.”
“I will assume that was a compliment and thank you. But I must make an attempt to remain detached. He’s sailing across a bloody ocean in a matter of weeks.”
“But would it be so terrible to ask him ifhe’d stay?”
For all her uncertainty about where she stood with Callum, she held no doubt about her answer to this question. “He won’t, I’m sure of it.”
“Not even for you?”
She forced herself to shrug, to cast off the fist that grabbed her throat at the thought of hurting again. “No, certainly not for me.” She squared her shoulders, schooled her features. “I’ve made my plan, as has he. No matter what you say, our hearts are not involved. I am in no danger of falling in love with Callum Hawthorne.”
“You’re falling in love with her.”
Callum snapped the dry towel out of his cousin’s hand with a snarl and wrapped it around his own waist. “Hauld yer wheest,” he barked, and the words echoed through the chamber around the pool.
James chortled. “How can I be quiet when you’re falling in love?” He ducked just in time to avoid a thrown towel, but, much to Callum’s dismay, he did not appear one bit repentant.
After meeting with a very pale Valebrook and his peers to review the agreements they’d brought back from York, James had wanted to, in his words,have a wee blether, the expression their highlands-born grandma would use whenever she wanted to gossip with their neighbor. Callum had insisted they go for a swim, hoping that James would forget they couldn’t speak with their heads underwater.
He had to give his cousin credit; Callum’s body was used to the abuse he put himself through in the pool, but James had merrily paddled along, waiting until Callum dragged himself onto the deck to launch an attack.
“Who do ye think I’m falling in love with?”
James snorted, his face still split in a wide grin. “Violet Waverly. The chit you were out with until all hours last night. And I heard you were spotted coming in from a ride with her this morning.”
Callum stiffened and cleared his throat. Violet’s presence was unsettling him more than he’d anticipated; part of his shell had broken away the night before, leaving him vulnerable and raw. She knew more than his past; she’d learned his mind, what pushed him forward and held him back. He didn’t like her being under his skin, but he wasn’t sure what would happen if he pushed her away now.
He’d acted like the worst randy bawbag and spoke to her like she was a doxie from the alleys of Edinburgh instead of the lady that she was. If he was kissing her, she couldn’t ask him questions. If he was thinking with his tadger and not his mind, he couldn’t tell her about his demons.
“I dinnae ken what ye’re talking ‘bout.”
“Yes, you do. You’re all in your head, barely saying a word.”
“When have I ever said a word?”
James cocked his head, then shook it. “It’s not your normal recalcitrance. You have stars in your eyes whenever the girl walks by. You can’t stop watching the wee sprite and her plump arse—”
