She fingered her lacy cuffs. “Well, you aren’t meant to wear it outdoors.”
“Arenae meant to… well, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And those wee shoes, I bettheyarenae meant to be worn outdoors?”
“Actually, no.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “I can see why ye didnae want to bring yer Scottish clothes home with ye. They wouldnae have suited at all. For what it’s worth, I liked the way ye looked back in yer other things. In good, sturdy gowns. Ye looked most beautiful there.”
A ripple of pleasure inched through her. Melody gave a tentative smile, ducking her head.
“Thank you.”
“Shortly after ye had gone,” Callum continued, stepping closer until they were mere inches apart. “I realized what a mistake I’d made.”
She frowned. “Who talked you into coming after me? Was it Sophie, or perhaps Lucas?”
“It was ye,” he answered simply. “I saw the sketch ye had left. Why draw me with two babies in my arms?”
“Because that was how I saw you,” she responded simply. “You’ll never forget Alexander, so it’ll be as if you carry him too, but I imagined that you would change your mind, and we would have our own child, too. That was what I hoped for. But then you made it so clear that you wanted no future at all.”
“That’s nae true. I do want a future, Melody, but only on the strictest of terms. I only want a future withye. I want to make ye happy. I left me duties and the safety of me own keep and came here in person, because I simply could nae put me feelings down on paper. I’ve nay skill with that, I suppose.” He inched closer and took her hand in his. His skin was warm and rough, and she could smell leather and mint on him, as usual, but something else—the sweet-rich smell of tree sap. Of fresh wood.
“I want us to create a life together, love,” he whispered.
Her head shot up, eyes widening.
“Love?” she queried.
A slow smile broke across his face. There was something lopsided and wild about that smile, something that tugged on ahook deep in her gut. The reaction it inspired was powerful and almost visceral.
“Aye, love,” he repeated. “Because that is how I feel about ye. I love ye, Melody. I tried to fight it for too long, but love’s a tricky emotion. It willnae let ye beat it back or ignore it, nay matter how hard ye try. I want a life with ye, Melody. A real life, if ye’ll have me.”
She let out a stifled gasp, involuntarily squeezing his hand hard. “Of course I will, Callum. Ofcourse.”
He grinned more widely, and Melody flew forward, wrapping her arms around her neck. She had fully intended to kiss him andwouldhave kissed him if they hadn’t been interrupted by a cool, dry voice from further along the hallway.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Color rushed to her face. Blushing furiously, Melody released Callum and turned to the newcomer.
“Papa,” she managed, as firmly as she could. “This is Callum. Laird MacDean, I should say.”
Papa pursed his lips, eyeing Callum with distaste. “Is that so? I don’t remember inviting him.”
“I bullied my way past the men at the door,” Callum explained, with a wry half-smile. “I should tell ye, Laird… Barrington?”
“LordBarrington. Not that it matters. Go on.”
“Aye, Lord. Well, I have asked yer daughter to wed me, and she’s agreed.”
He stared expectantly at Papa, waiting.
Papa pressed his lips together. “And you did not think to ask my consent first?”
Callum stared back, perplexed. “It’s nae ye I wanted to wed.”
Papa heaved a long, tired sigh and rubbed the space between his brows.
“Of course not,” he mumbled. “Well, then, child, is this what you want? To marry a Scottish laird? You’ll lead a life estranged from London Society, you know. Just like your sister.”
