“One bite of breakfast,” he responded tersely, “and then she goes.”
Sophie opened her mouth as if to argue, then seemed to think better of it, and closed her mouth again.
“What a generous man ye are,” she murmured, reaching up to pat him. “The finest laird Laird the MacDeans have ever had.”
A flash of something soft, like affection, crossed Callum’s face. Whatever his faults, it seemed clear that he cared for his grandmother.
The softness vanished when he glanced at Melody. Scowling, he jerked his chin at her.
“Escort my me grandmother up the stairs.”
“The tray…”
“Leave the tray. Quickly, before I change my mind.”
Melody hurried to obey, offering her arm to Sophie. The old woman gave her a wide smile and a wink as they made their slow way out of the awful cell and towardstoward a narrow staircase whichthat led upwards to freedom.
Being locked in a room overnight was not a pleasant thought, but at least she wasn’t going to be in a dungeon.
“My laird,” Melody called hesitantly, “did you make the tray of food for me yourself?”
He didn’t bother to reply.
The next morning, Callum was not sure what he’d find in his grandmother’s room. Part of him wouldn’t have been surprised to find Melody gone, having enacted some fancy escape during the night. But, no, she was still there, hunched over a bowl of porridge at the table. Jane was there, too, making Sophie’s morning herbal tea.
All three of them glanced up when Callum entered.
“Well, since ye are here to entertain our guest,” Sophie huffed, levering herself to her feet and taking Jane’s arm. “I’ll wash and dress for the day, eh?”
“She’s nae a guest,” Callum responded sharply, but of course, his grandmother was no longer listening. He watched them go, clenching his jaw. The bedroom door closed, and he was left alone with Melody.
This was not how it was supposed to go. Breathing in through his nose, Callum turned to Melody and gave a brittle smile.
“Eat up. I’ll arrange a carriage to take ye where ye need to go. Ye’ll be dropped over the English border, but I cannae say how far me drivers will take ye beyond that yet.”
She dabbed her mouth delicately with the edge of a cloth napkin. Where had she found anapkin?
“I don’t wish to leave the Highlands,” Melody responded. “If I’m to leave here, I’ll go to my sister’s home.”
He frowned, folding his arms. “Yer sister lives in the Highlands?”
She nodded. “She’s married to Laird MacLeon. I know it’s more than we agreed, but would you let me write her a letter? Just to let her know that I’m coming?”
Laird MacLeon?That was a surprise. Callum knew that the Laird had recently taken a wife, and there were rumors that he’d taken anEnglishwife, but he had no idea thatthiswas her sister.
Interesting,he thought, a kernel of an idea beginning to form. He didn’t push it, however. Instead, he hooked an ankle around the chair Jane had been occupying and dragged it out from the table. Throwing himself down with a thump, he fixed a long stare on Melody.
“Why are ye here, lass?” he said at last. “Nay lies or trickery. I want the plain truth.”
Melody stared down at the remains of her congealing porridge for a long moment.
“That pamphlet was shown to me by a pair of ladies at a London ball,” she said at last, her voice quiet. “I took exception to it.”
“Ye tookexceptionto it? Why? Ye daenae ken me. What business is it of yers what damage is done to me reputation?”
“Well, none, of course. It’s just that my sister is married to a Scottish laird, like you, and I didn’t like how they implied all such men were monsters. My sister, you know, is very happy. They didn’t believe me, of course, and to prove that such pamphlets and exaggerated sketches were purely lies, I offered to come here and sketch you myself, to prove that you were just an ordinary man.”
“Just an ordinary man,” Callum responded thoughtfully. “Did it nae occur to ye, lass, that perhaps Ilikeseein’ meself displayed in such a way?”
