He rolled his shoulders. “I just told ye. She’s probably tired of my entanglements not progressin’ to marriage.”
“Entanglements?”
“All right, that’s the wrong word.”
Melody sniffed. “Have you had many fake betrothals, then?”
She wasn’t entirely sure what sort of response she had wanted to see from Callum. A blustering denial, perhaps, or a slow smile of assent? She was not sure she would have been happy with either response.
In reply, however, Callum simply folded his arms tight, tilted his head, and fixed her with a strange, lopsided kind of smile.
“Jealous?” he enquired sweetly.
He is enjoying this, the wretched creature.
“No, I am not jealous,” Melody snapped. “I barely know you. I have just met you. You can have as many betrothals, real and pretend, as you like, and I could not care less.”
“Could nae care less? That is nae what yer face is sayin’, lass.”
“Oh, hush.”
“Now, Ikenye are nae hushin’ me in me own study, lass. And ye can say that ye are nae jealous and could nae care less about me betrothals till the cows come home, but that does nae explain why ye were starin’ so fixedly at me durin’ the sparrin’ session. That was another ploy of me grandmother’s, by the way.”
Melody’s head shot up. Her cheeks were so red that she was half convinced that her face was going to explode.
“I wasnotstaring!” she gasped. “And it wasnota ploy.”
He rolled his eyes. “Please, lass, it’s a classic trick that me grandmother pulled. She brought ye out to get a wee peek at the goods. The goods bein’ me,” he added, as if there might be any confusion about that. “Do ye think megrandmotherwants to come out and watch men train first thing in the morning?”
“She said she wanted to take the air!”
“Bollocks,” he responded crudely. Melody knew at least half a dozen women in society who would have fainted clean away at that simple word.
“It isnotboll… nonsense,” Melody corrected lamely. “I was not staring. And if I… if I was, I wasn’t looking at you. I was looking at…” she paused, hesitating, and glanced away. “I was looking at that scar on your chest. Just above your heart.”
His expression tightened. “It’s nae the sort of scar one can ignore.”
“I saw the same scar drawn on that silly pamphlet,” she continued, forcing herself to lift her chin and meet his eyes. “I was surprised to see that the sketch was correct about that, at least. I think the implication in the pamphlet was that somebodyhad tried to stake you, like a vampire. Of course, I know that cannot be the case.”
The amusement that had lit up his eyes only a moment ago faded away, leaving Callum’s expression blank and unreadable once more. Melody cursed herself for inadvertently removing that lopsided half-smile from his face.
“Aye, I wasnae staked,” he responded crisply, glancing away. “I did it to meself.”
She flinched. “To yourself? I don’t understand.”
“I didnae imagine that ye would.”
He folded his arms, a position which seemed to make the muscles in his chest and shoulders swell even more, and leaned casually back against the desk. His eyes found hers, as always, and he gave a slow, thoughtful smile.
She cleared her throat. “Well, that is… was it an accident? I am sure you did not intend to… to take your own life. If you did, I am not sure that stabbing oneself in the heart is the best way to do it.”
“Is this the kind of genteel parlor conversation ye indulge in back in London, lassie?”
Something sparked inside her. “I am notlassie. Do not call me lass, or girl, or woman, or anything like that. My name is Melody, and I’d appreciate it if you used it.”
He stared at her, seconds ticking by. Melody forced herself to stay calm, meeting his gaze as if she’d said nothing wrong.
I’d be completely ruined if we were in London, she thought briefly.Alone with a man, in a locked room? People would shun my presence as if I had the plague. Ruin is, after all, as contagious as a disease.
