“I don’t mind,” Melody answered eagerly. “I want to marry Callum, Papa. I truly do. Please give your consent,please.”
Papa sighed again. He looked thoroughly annoyed. “Well, I suppose you and your sister will bully me until Idoagree, and since no respectable Englishman wants to have you, I’ll have to agree, won’t I?”
“Thank you, Papa, thank you!” Melody cried, darting forward to press a kiss onto his cold cheek.
“Then I’ll be away with me betrothed, then,” Callum responded smoothly, taking Melody’s arm. He hauled her effortlessly up into his arms in a bridal carry. She gave a squeal of surprise and delight, and Papa’s eyes widened.
“What? Not yet, not before thewedding! Melody, you must marry here, in London. You will, won’t you!”
Melody felt the urge to laugh and cry all at once. Callum paid no heed to Papa’s plaintive yelps and instead strode firmly along the hallway toward the large front door. Footmen’s eyes widened as they passed. Papa yelped.
“Melody!”
“Do come to Scotland for the wedding, Papa!” she called back. There were dozens of faces at each doorway leading to the ballroom. The dancing was over, she suspected, and nobody would think of anything else but of her and her strange Scottish husband-to-be.
For once, she could not have cared less.
They stepped out into the cold night air, brisk enough to take away Melody’s breath. Papa stumbled onto the front steps, then gave up, standing with his hands on his hips.
“You are worse than your sister, Melody!” he called, with an edge of defeat in his voice.
“I’m afraid so!” she shouted back, laughing. “Callum, where are we going?”
“Where do ye think? To me carriage. My new one, that is.”
“You have a new carriage?”
“Just wait for a moment.”
He strode along a little further down the line of neatly parked carriages, stopping in front of one that she did not recognize. There was an odd color to the lacquer on the outside.
“Blue!” she gasped. “One of my favorite colors.”
“Aye, that’s why I chose it. Just wait till ye see the inside.”
He jerked open the door and deposited her firmly inside. Melody sucked in a breath. Inside, the upholstery, blankets, and curtains were all different shades of blue and pink. A small lantern was fixed in an alcove in the upper corner. It did not provide much light, but enough to cast a yellowish glow over the space.
It was the most comfortable-looking carriage she had ever seen, with padding on the walls as well as the seats, a thick carpet in the footwell, and so many blankets and pillows she could scarcely see the seat. She sat gingerly down, smoothing her hand over a soft fur blanket, the only thing that was neither blue nor pink.
Callum climbed in after her, closing the door. He closed the curtains, and the carriage began to gently roll forward.
“I think I might have kidnapped ye,” he observed. “We are goin’ back to Keep MacDean.”
Melody gave a satisfied smile. “I’m glad. I want to go home.”
“Ye consider it yer home?”
She tilted her head, meeting his gaze. “I consider anywhere that you are to be home, I think.”
A slow smile spread over his face at this. He did not respond, but simply leaned forward and kissed her.
At once, heat sprang up in her chest. Closing her eyes, Melody gave herself up to the kiss, concentrating only upon the sensations curling inside her. When Callum leaned forward and pressed his lips against the side of her throat, she let out a faint, ragged sigh and felt him smile against her skin.
“I had hoped to have our weddin’ night now,” he murmured, with a deep rasp.
“So did I,” she breathed. “But I ought to tell you that I have no practice withmistakesof any kind, if you catch my meaning.”
He gave a low rumble of laughter. “Daenae worry, lass. I’ll help ye. Here, lie down.”
