Penelope was also on her feet. “I think we will forego the syllabub,” she said drolly. “It is clearly not what you are used to.”
“I prefer my puddings large and solid,” he retorted. “And my spoons man-sized.”
They looked at each other a moment in silence and then Penelope’s lips trembled into a smile, which made him burst into laughter. When he had recovered, he said, “For God’s sake, woman, no more syllabub! In fact, no more food. I promise you I willna attack table decorations. I have learned my lesson.”
Penelope had been watching him as if she wasn’t quite sure what to make of him, but now she said in a firm voice, “I am very glad to hear it. I have a reputation to maintain.”
She gave Selina a nod and the woman made haste to clear the table.
“Let us move on to the more general subject of manners. You should not call me “woman”. You should address me as Miss Armstrong.”
He sighed. He knew this, he wasn’t a fool, but all he replied was, “Yes, Miss Armstrong.”
“And I should address you as my lord, or my lord Marquess.”
“What if I want you to call me MacKenzie? Surely it is up to me what you call me.”
“In private perhaps, but in company we should stick to the formalities. People might think it odd if I call you MacKenzie and you call me woman. Let us not confuse everyone.”
He nodded. He understood, but the sooner he was done with this, done with London, and on his way home to Bonnyrigg, the better.
Callum looked down at his shirt. The syllabub had soaked through and was sticking to him, and he eased it away from his skin with a grimace. “I need to change. Are we finished, or is there more?”
Penelope wrinkled her brow. “There is more, but I don’t suppose you are comfortable like that.” She hesitated before she said, “Remove your shirt and Selina will sponge it clean.”
Callum looked from one woman to the other and then shrugged. He was used to being shirtless at home, when the weather was warm enough, or when he had built up a sweat, so it did not matter to him one way or the other. But he had never been shirtless in front of two ladies before. It occurred to him that it might be fun to ruffle Penelope’s composure. So far he had seen very little of what went on beneath her serene exterior, apart from that one smile that showed him she actually had a sense of humor. He wanted to know more.
With a few tugs, he removed his neckcloth and tossed it aside, and then shrugged off his jacket and set that aside, too. He pulled his soiled shirt over his head and held it out to Selina. She took it, but her gaze was fastened on his bare chest like she had never seen one before. Perhaps she hadn’t.
“Ah, thank you, Mr. . . . my . . . MacKenzie.”
She whipped around and was out of the door before he could respond. He turned back to Penelope, who quickly lifted her gaze up to his. There was color in her cheeks that hadn’t been there before.
“Should we continue?” Callum asked sweetly, with an arch of his dark brow. “We only have three weeks until the ball.”
She looked away then back again, being careful to keep her gaze above his neck. “Hmm, very true. Let us pretend you arecalling upon a respectable lady and have just been shown into her drawing room.”
Penelope seemed even more composed now he was half naked, but he suspected she was not. His bare chest had shaken her somehow, which seemed strange when she must have seen Lord Muir’s chest many times. Callum decided to play along and pretend not to notice. He strode to the door and then turned and held out his hand. “How do you do, Respectable Lady. Are you well? What a marvelous day we are having.”
Penelope blinked as she stepped forward to take his hand. “You overwhelm me, MacKenzie. I am well, and it is indeed a marvelous day, although I believe it may rain before luncheon. How are you enjoying London?”
Callum was still holding her hand, and strangely he didn’t want to let it go. She gave a little tug to remind him to release her. “London is not Bonnyrigg,” he said gloomily, and then remembering himself, added, “but I am enjoying it. Aye, it is bonny.”
Penelope sat down and gestured for him to do the same. Callum lowered himself to the chair and crossed one booted leg over the other.
There was a pause. She was fiddling with one of the cushions at her side, and he could see she had made a hole in the fabric. Was he making her nervous? He had not thought her the anxious type, but maybe he had been mistaken. Or was it his chest she was nervous about?
He looked down and saw that there was a raspberry streak across his stomach. He ran his finger over it, sucking the dessert into his mouth.
When he looked up, Penelope was watching him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly ajar. So he did it again, taking his time. She gave a little gasp and suddenly jumped up and moved to the window. Surprised, Callum observed her straight back and theway her shoulders stiffened. Against the light from the window, her fashionable dress was opaque and he found himself wishing it was one of those almost transparent ones that Rory had told him the more Bohemian ladies were wearing. Then he would have been able to see right through it.
Ungentlemanly of him, he knew, but lust was rearing its head and he was forgetting to be cautious. Could he touch her? There must be some legitimate way in which he could do that, because suddenly he wanted to feel the texture and warmth of her skin against his fingers. He wanted to feel her soft body pressed to his.
His voice when he spoke was a little sly. “My aunt wants me to be able to dance or at least manage a few turns around the room. Can we do that now?”
“We will get to that,” she said, still with her back to him.
“Why don’t we start now?” he asked. “While Selina is cleaning my shirt?”
