His warm breath brought tingles to her skin. Penelope turned her head and found him very close. His light-brown eyes were flecked with a darker color, and as she gazed into them, she admitted to herself that she found him very attractive. Almost irresistibly so.
Selina’s words popped into her mind. Why not enjoy herself while she could? Was it possible for her to put aside her rules and do that? If she had no more clients and her career in tutoring was over, then what would it matter? Callum would still find his wife and return to Scotland, she would make sure of that. But right now he was here and so was she.
She wasn’t sure who moved first, but she was suddenly aware of the brush of his lips on hers. Soft. Restrained. Another tingle went through her, this time accompanied by a hot wave of desire, and with a soft moan she leaned into him, her arm sliding around his neck and drawing him close.
In a heartbeat, they were kissing passionately, almost fighting for supremacy, his tongue inside her mouth and hers tangling with his. Her fingers tangled in his long hair, and his jacket buttons dug into her soft breasts. It was wondrous. So wondrous that her banked desire threatened to overwhelm any restraint she still had on it. She was lost in the moment, forgetting everything but the taste and sensation of Callum MacKenzie.
Outside the hackney, a child wailed. The sound was enough to shock her out of the moment, and she drew back, eyes wide, a hand pressed to her swollen lips.
Callum looked like he was in a dream, eyes blinking. It took him another few seconds to return to the hackney and the busy street, and then she saw the flush of color rise in his cheeks. “I feel like I should apologize,” he said, his voice husky, “but I don’t want to. Should I say I am sorry, Miss Armstrong?”
She searched for the appropriate words but none came to her. For a moment she teetered on a precipice, knowing she should pull back and yet struggling to do so.
“No,” she said at last. “I don’t want you to say sorry, MacKenzie.”
He smiled then and reached out to tuck a strand of fair hair behind her ear. “Then I won’t,” he said.
Chapter Twelve
Callum lay inhis bed and stared at the ceiling. Tonight was the practice ball, and the last of his fashionable clothing had arrived yesterday. His aunt had been aflutter with excitement and insisted that he make use of his uncle’s valet—“He’s kicking his heels at the moment, with no one to fuss over. You would be doing me a favor, Callum.”
That had made him wonder if he would need to employ his own valet at Bonnyrigg. The thought of a stranger judging him was lowering, but then he wondered if perhaps Angus would take on the task? He could deal with Angus. And if it meant he could look the part of a duke-in-waiting, then what was the harm?
“I want to inspect you before you leave,” Aunt Jennie had reminded him.
“You’ve seen me before.”
“But not dressed up like a gentleman, Callum. That is something I haveneverseen before.”
Now he had all day to think about tonight, and seeing Penelope again.
There had been no lessons since his visit to Mr. Doddington. He worried it was because of the kiss, and that their time apart would give her too much opportunity to mull over it. She might decide it was wrong. Callum’s opinion differed. He believed it was the rightest thing he had ever done.
He had never felt like this about any other woman. Surely that meant something? He supposed his family would consider he was infatuated, but Callum wasn’t someone who was prone to such shallow emotions. He was sensible and level-headed, and the feelings he had developed for Penelope did not seem to be going away. Even if he eventually found this mythical wife and returned with her to Bonnyrigg, he was certain Penelope’s memory would go home with him.
And he would mourn the loss of her every day.
He admitted to himself that right now the idea of marrying anyone who wasn’t Penelope, of choosing some other woman to stand with him before the preacher and plight his troth... It just felt wrong in so many ways.
Apart from his personal feelings, Penelope was someone who would be able to deal with his aristocratic neighbors, host the dinners and soirees his father dreamed of, and shine bright in their moody Scottish winters. He could imagine her putting Sir Hector in his place, not by insulting him but by charming him into submission. There were so many reasons his family would applaud his choice of wife.
But there was also the problem of her past and her tarnished reputation. His parents would not approve of that any more than his aunt did. Word would soon circulate that his chosen wife had been the mistress of another man. Callum did not know the exact circumstances that had led Penelope down that road, but he was sure it had something to do with the tragic deaths of her parents and her guardianship of her young brother.
And if that was the case, he knew she had had no choice. She had been trapped in a bad situation, one that she had been doing her best to escape and then to make a new life for herself. But society was not so sympathetic, and he suspected his parents would be more inclined to listen to the negatives than the positives.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. There wasn’t as much of it as yesterday. A barber had arrived to tame his dark locks, ready for his debut at the practice ball tonight. He was not looking forward to capering about, as Angus called it. Hewaslooking forward to seeing Penelope and dancing with her.
Could he kiss her again? He longed to. His heart pounded and his blood heated at the thought of her mouth on his. Had she been remembering that moment too, aching for a repeat? She had seemed more than willing in the hackney, but Callum knew he had to tread carefully if he wanted to win her.
Because if marrying her was but a dream, then what was left? A brief affair? If he could not have her forever then why not a night? An hour?
If she was willing, then even one passionate encounter was better than nothing.
*
Callum was bidinghis time in the drawing room, waiting for his aunt’s inspection of his outfit before he left for the ball. She had barely managed a glance at him before she was called away to solve a domestic crisis.
“A mouse!” she had exclaimed. “Evidently it is terrorizing the servants and only I can deal with it.” She pointed at Callum. “Stay here. I won’t be long.”
