“I’ll throw somethin’ at yer head!”
“Ye will miss.”
“Daenae count on it,” she muttered darkly.
Callum bit back a smile, shaking his head. He turned to face Melody, who was sitting very still on a low stool, watching him curiously.
Not for the first time, he found himself wishing he knew what was going on in her head. Those eyes of hers, so large and thoughtful and expressive, haunted his dreams.
Does she think of me? Does she think of our kiss?
Callum had thought of the kiss. More often than was good for him. He had played the scene over and over in his head, his mind reeling. Despite his attempts to force himself to regret it, he could not quite manage it.
“I imagine Lucas brought ye the invitation from the townsfolk,” he stated, mostly to distract himself from his own churning thoughts. “Will ye refuse again, Grandmother?”
She nodded. “I must. Fun as it sounds, I am too old and frail for a festival. Melody wants to go, however. With ye,” she added.
He sighed. “As I said, I cannae do that.”
“Why not?” Melody asked at once. Callum silently cursed her and her curiosity.
“Because I have work which keeps me here,” he responded after a beat. “I serve me people best by acting like a laird, nae by eatin’ and dancin’ like I have nay care in the world.”
She frowned. “Don’t you fear that you’ll miss out?”
“Miss out on what?”
“I don’t know. Fun?”
“I daenae have time forfun. There’s nothin’ I need that I cannae find safely within the walls of the keep. It’s safe here, and if ye will take my advice, ye will stay here.”
Briefly, Callum imagined saddling up his horse and riding out through the steel portcullis guarding the keep doors. He imagined a vast, endless expanse of sky, pulling back so high that there was no beginning or end, just all thatspace,pressing down and smothering him…
He swallowed thickly. Elsie had loved open spaces. Loved to ride across rolling hills, loved to spread out her arms under the ceiling of the sky. She said once that she felt smothered behind the keep walls.
And look at where that got her, he thought bitterly.
Aloud, he said, “I only came to check on ye, Grandmother, to be sure that ye got yer invitation. The villagers daenae expect ye to attend, but they’ll be hurt if ye did nae at least see yer invitation. That’s all. I’ll let ye get on with yer day, then.”
He turned on his heel and strode back out into the hallway. It wasn’t much of a surprise to hear trotting footsteps following him.
“Slow down, you walk fast enough to make me run,” Melody complained.
He sighed. “Perhaps ye should nae be followin’ me, then.”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“So I gathered. What is it?”
He slowed down, just a little, so that she could catch up. It wouldn’t look good if he strode along the hallways with his betrothed scuttling breathlessly behind him.
Melody caught up with a sigh of relief, and he glanced curiously down at her. She was wearing yesterday’s green wool gown, a demure color which suited her very well. She’d done her hair simply, wound back in a braid and left to hang down her back. He found himself struggling with the urge to reach out and take it, letting the glossy braid rest heavily across his fingers.
He clenched his hands into fists to wrestle back the urge. Now wasn’t the time, not by a long shot.
By the time our betrothal is at an end, she’ll be glad to leave this place. And me. Nay sense getting’ attached, is there? This is for the best in the end, after all. She’ll understand, sooner or later.I’m nae for her. She’s nae for me. I have decided nae to wed again, and I have good reasons.
“I thought that this festival would be a fine opportunity for us to present ourselves to the people,” she said at last, peering up into his face.
