“Gone tobed? What for?”
“She was tired. She was!” he added defensively, when Sophie narrowed her eyes at him. “Besides, she was talkin’ without thought and would have embarrassed me in front of others. Lucas asked her to dance, and she accepted far too eagerly. She is meant to bemebetrothed.”
He hated how that sounded. He hated how murderous the thought of another man touching her had made him, even if that man was his good friend trying to get exactly this reaction from him.
Surely, it wasn’t because he wanted to be the only man who ever touched her.
He certainly didnotwant to claim his fake betrothed, possess her every breath, her every thought. Every curve.
That would be very wrong. Thankfully, he only cared for his reputation. He couldn’t care less what Melody did, who she let touch her or whom she touched.
Sophie stared at him for a long moment. As always, Callum found himself unable to read his grandmother’s expression. In her own words, she’d lived too long to be easily deciphered.
“Why, Callum, I do believe that ye are jealous,” Sophie said at last, incredulously. “Ye are angry that Lucas asked her to dance, and ye are angry that she accepted with delight.”
“What nonsense!”
“It is nae nonsense. Oh, me boy, ye are in deep trouble.”
“Enough, Grandmother!”
Sophie shook her head, ignoring him. “I ken that ye are nae in love with Melody. What purpose this sudden, strange betrothal serves ye is beyond me, but I willnae question it. It’s clear to me, however, that ye are growin’ fond of the lass.”
“I am nae fond of her. This is a purely strategic move, and I’ll thank ye nae to question me motives in public.”
Sophie gave a gurgle of laughter. “Ye never were a good liar, lad. Ye are fond of her. Jealousy doesnae show itself over people we are indifferent to. Well, this is a nice turn-up, is it nae? Ye might fall in love with yer wee bride-to-be after all.”
Callum set down his glass with aclickand rounded on his grandmother.
“This has gone far enough,” he growled, meeting her gaze squarely and holding it. “I have enough to manage with me rebellious council, with me old father-in-law visitin’ with the express intent of stirrin’ up trouble for me, and now with a betrothed who seems keen to embarrass me at every turn. I cannae manage withyeturnin’ against me, Grandmother.”
Sophie was quiet for a long moment, staring up at him through narrowed eyes.
“Turnin’ against ye? Come, lad, ye cannae believe that,” she murmured quietly.
“Well, ye are naewithme, then.”
“And why should ye believe that? I am in yer corner and always have been. I’ll nae mince my words, because a laird ought to hear honesty from those around him,especiallyhis family. If ye are growin’ fond of the lass, is this nae a good sign? In a marriage…”
“Enough,” Callum snapped. He could hear the strain in his own voice. “Grandmother, enough. I daenae wish to discuss this matter with ye.”
“But…”
“Nay buts. I’ve had enough of this party, so I’ll take my leave.”
“Ye cannae leave.”
“I am the Laird, Grandmother. I can do as I wish. Ye, Lucas, and Angus can manage the party in me absence. This thing is political, and nobody will care very much that I am nae there. Now, goodnight, and I daenae wish to be disturbed any more.”
He did not stop to hear what his grandmother made of his statement. There was never any sense in arguing with his grandmother. She was as sharp as a dagger’s point and entirely too good at using her words as weapons. Callum strode away, elbowing his way through the crowd until he reached a narrow doorway which opened into a corridor behind the gallery.
It was easier to breathe out there, away from all of those endlesspeople. It was not a good idea to allow himself to stop and breathe—some busybody might see the Laird slip away and decide to follow him and lock him into a conversation—so he set off at a brisk walk. The back corridors led him effortlessly toward his destination—the tower.
Once inside his familiar, round study room, Callum allowed himself to breathe. A fire had not been made up in the grate, so the room was dark and cold. That was all right. It gave him something to do, lighting the candles and building up a fire until the flames jumped high up the chimney, casting a flickering light over him and sending out a prickling heat. Callum stayed where he was for a moment, kneeling before the hearth and staring into the flames.
Melody would have returned to her room by now. She had an ordinary, serviceable room only a few steps away from his grandmother’s. Had she gone to bed? Was she reading a book, or pacing her room angrily?
Was she angry athim? She had certainly seemed so when they parted ways.
