“I will not have to hunt a plump pheasant for our luncheon then?”
She shot him a reproving look.
Callum wanted to keep her for as long as it was possible, so he was forever thinking up ways in which he needed her help. Even after Aunt Jennie’s ball, he wanted to continue his lessons. Even after he found a perfect wife. But the trouble with that was he could not imagine any wife more perfect than Penelope Armstrong.
If only he could persuade her to believe in him. In herself.
*
The countryside wasgreen and pleasant, but with nothing of the wild beauty of his home. He knew in his heart that it could not compare to the forests and mountains of Bonnyrigg, just as no woman could compare with Penelope. And yet he admitted that this scenery was pleasant in its own tame way.
“Very pretty,” he said, when Penelope pointed out a view to him that she said was famous, although he couldn’t help but sound patronizing. No wonder she gave him a look.
Behind them, Angus snorted a laugh at something Selina said. They had brought their servants with them for propriety’s sake, but Angus and Selina seemed more interested in each other than in acting as chaperones to their master and mistress.
“When you are courting your wife, you will be with a group of people,” Penelope said brightly, although he could not help but notice her face was pale with shadows under her eyes. “They will consist of her friends or members of her family. How you deport yourself will be very important, and when you ask for her hand, any mistakes you make will be remembered.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” he murmured.
Another of those looks, which only made him want to grab her and kiss her until she forgot all about her lessons.
“Ah, there is the ruin I was talking about,” she went on, pointing toward a few stones and a tower with vines growing up it. “The castle was ‘slighted’ by Cromwell.”
“Oh aye, that is what they call blowing it into wee bits, do they?” Angus spoke up.
Selina shushed him.
“It would be nice if you were to learn some of the history of the places you visit,” Penelope went on, ignoring the interruption. “You can impress your future wife in that way.”
“Won’t she know the history herself?” Callum said. “It would be arrogant of me to tell her what she already knows.”
“She will probably pretend ignorance,” Penelope replied. “Girls... women are taught not to be too forward in such circumstances.”
“Pretend they are silly, do ye mean?” Angus interrupted again. “MacKenzie doesna want a silly wife, do you lad?”
Callum shot him a grateful look. “I do not!”
“I do not mean she is silly,” Penelope said in a long-suffering voice. “She is clever enough not to want to be thought forward.”
“I rather like a woman who is forward.” Callum smiled. “I like a woman who tells me what to do. I may not always do it, but I like to be told.”
There was a silence after that, and he was glad when they stopped the carriage and set about arranging the picnic. He could hear Angus’s deep murmur and Selina’s lighter voice, but Penelope was deep in her own thoughts again. He glanced sideways at her and found her glancing back at him.
“Do you mean that?” she asked him abruptly. “About liking me to tell you what to do? Most gentlemen would hate it.”
“Well, I am not most gentlemen,” he reminded her. “And I do like it. When your voice gets all determined and disdainful... I like it very much.”
She couldn’t mistake his meaning. Her eyes widened slightly before she returned to her work of unpacking the basket. But he thought there was a little smile on her lips.
After they had finished most of the cheese, cold meat, and bread, and washed down the strawberries and confections with a chilled Chablis, Callum lay back on the grass, replete. He gazed up at the soft, blue sky above him. The air felt pleasantly warm,and he had removed his jacket and his necktie—be damned to etiquette—and with a full belly, he was thinking about a snooze.
Unfortunately, Penelope had other ideas. She seemed determined to cram as many lessons as possible into the moment. He supposed she knew their time together was coming to an end, and he understood she wanted to make him as perfect a gentleman as it was possible for him to be, but he wished she would stop. Occasionally her voice had a manic edge to it, a panicky note that made him want to wrap her in his arms and tell her,This doesn’t have to end. Marry me.
After several observations about him eating far too much, and a brief argument after his retort that him eating too much was a compliment to his hostess, she changed tack.
“What would you be doing if you were at Bonnyrigg? Tell me about it. Make me intrigued. Make me want to go there with you, Callum.” She stopped, realizing her mistake. “Make the woman you choose to marry want to go there.”
He pretended not to notice her slip of the tongue. “And how do I do that? I could tell her that it can be a grim place in the winter. Cold and damp, and the castle has drafts that feel like icy fingers. My mother tries to keep us warm with fires in all the rooms, and a roaring one in the great hall, but it is no easy task. I am used to it, but visitors often complain.”
