When their coach arrived at the front door, there were people standing, waiting for them. Callum held her hand, and she wanted to cling to him, but now the moment to face his family had come, she knew she must not show weakness. She suspected Maxwell would despise her if she simpered and begged to be liked.
She had been told that Callum resembled his father to a marked degree, and now she saw that was the truth. Tall and handsome, dark hair streaked with some grey, and brown eyes, he was how Callum would look in years to come. His mother Luna was smaller, with flaming red hair and bright, watchful blue eyes. It was Luna who came forward and took Penelope’s hands to rise her from her curtsy.
“My dear,” she said, her voice husky with emotion, “you are just as my sister described you. Welcome! Welcome to Bonnyrigg.”
That was certainly more kindness than she had expected, and she blinked away sudden tears, while behind her she heard Callum’s sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I am grateful to be here.”
She wanted to say that she understood this was not what Callum’s parents had hoped for, she wanted to explain, but this was not the time. Besides, the rest of Callum’s family were descending upon her.
“I am Rory. How do you do?” The man with red hair like his mother’s spoke in a low, confident voice. He slid his gaze over her in a practiced gesture as he took her hand. “Callum is a lucky laddie.”
Callum grunted a warning. “She’s mine, brother.”
Rory laughed easily, sure of his charms, and moved aside for the other brother, Donal, who looked more like Callum. He also took her hand and smiled sweetly. “Welcome, sister,” he said, and again Penelope felt the sting of tears.
“Thank you,” she said. “I hope... that is, I will do my very best to...”
Callum put his arm about her. “You always do your very best,” he said firmly. “And here is my sister, Catriona, although we call her Cat.”
Cat had their mother’s red hair and bright, watchful eyes, but her smile was as sweet as Donal’s. “I am so glad you are here,” she said, with a sly glance toward her father. “I have longed for a sister. Just think what fun we will have.”
Penelope smiled back, but by now she was feeling very overwhelmed.
“Not too much fun,” Callum warned, but he spoke indulgently, as one who would endure a great deal from his sister before he lost his temper.
There was a pause, and that was when Maxwell spoke. “Welcome, Callum’s wife,” he said, but there was no warmth in his voice. “We have made ready a room for your stay.”
Everyone seemed to freeze, and glances were exchanged. “Callum’s wife” was bad enough, but “for your stay” had an ominous feel to it.
“Stay for as long as you like,” Luna added quickly, but that only made it worse.
“Did you receive my letter, Father?” Callum asked, fixing Maxwell with a determined look.
“Aye, I got it,” Maxwell said dourly, turning away.
Callum took her hand firmly in his, squeezing her fingers almost painfully, trying to make up for his father’s unfriendliness, and walked by her side into the castle that would one day be his.
Penelope tried to take in her surroundings. They were grand in a medieval way, and as her new husband had warned, it was cold. A fire was roaring in what she guessed was the great hall, and then they were climbing the staircase with portraits gazingat her, as unfriendly as Maxwell, and she found herself in a bedchamber with windows overlooking the forest. The fire was lit here, too, and she went to warm her hands.
They were trembling, which annoyed her. She had known this first meeting would be awkward. She would have to work hard to gain acceptance, and she must accede that maybe she never would. You could not force people to like you. Perhaps they would end up in Inverness after all, making their own lives away from Callum’s family. Despite Callum’s claims that he could deal with that, Penelope knew he would be sad. He would be homesick.
It was up to her to see that it didn’t happen.
*
Penelope was wokenthe next morning by a hushed conversation. It was early, the sun barely risen, and she had tossed and turned for much of the night. Eventually, Callum had held her, his warm body a comfort, and she had reminded herself that she loved him and he loved her, and whatever came next they would weather together.
She lay still, attempting to listen to what was being said at the door to the room, but the voices were too low. It sounded like Callum and Luna, and it sounded like an argument. A quiet argument. Finally, the door closed and Callum returned to bed.
She sat up. “What was that about?”
He groaned. “My father has invited the neighbors over for luncheon.”
“Oh.” Was this a test? She assumed so. A test set for her by Maxwell. And if she failed...?
“Don’t fash yourself,” Callum said gently. “My father doesn’t like our neighbors anyway.”
“And yet he wanted a wife who would help him to fit in with others of his rank.”
