He nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, I think I should like that very much.”
Out in the river, the lads seemed to be competing for who could hold their breath the longest now, but since Callan couldn’t count reliably past twenty, it was hampering the athletic competition.
“IknowI was underwater longer than twenty-two seconds, Callan!”
“I counted right!”
The older lad propped his hands on his hips, just visible under the surface of the river. “Show me,” he demanded.
Callan lifted his fingers and began to count. The higher the numbers, the harder it got. “Thirteen, fourteen, fourteen, fourteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty, twenty-eighteen, twenty-six, twenty-twenty, eleven!” he finished proudly.
Instead of being irritated, Matthew laughed and lunged for the younger lad, wrapping his arms around the lad’s smaller chest, and catapulting them both into deeper water.
Suddenly alarmed, Athena sat forward, her eyes on the twisting swirl of water where they were playing, ready to spring to her son’s rescue if necessary.
But a hand on her arm stopped her.
“Don’t worry,” Cash said in a low voice. “Matthew won’t let anything happen to your son. He’s a strong swimmer.”
Nodding, Athena settled back on the blanket, though her attention never left the water. “And a good lad. He accepted Callan as a friend immediately.”
“He doesn’t have many friends,” the man admitted. “My position?—”
He must’ve decided whatever he’d intended to say would mar the tranquility of the afternoon, so he bit down on his words. When she glanced at him—after ensuring both lads’ heads were above water once more—he shrugged.
His grin was almost sheepish, and she decided she verymuch liked seeing him disarmed, instead of the cool and commanding personality he’d originally portrayed.
“I understand, milord,” she intoned seriously, certain her eyes betrayed her mirth, as she made a point of lifting the edge of her bathing costume’s skirt between two fingers and nodding solemnly. It was as close to a curtsy as she could get while reclined as she was. “Thank ye for lowering yerself to play with peasants such as ourselves.”
The bark of laughter which escaped his lips seemed to surprise him, which caused Athena to grin.
“Yecanlaugh, then?” she teased, which elicited more chuckles from him.
Finally, Cash settled back against the towels, more at ease now, as they watched their sons play. “I think, here, I’m not milord, and you’re not a lady.”
“Oh, I am no’ really a lady anywhere,” she corrected him cheekily.
Her father was technically an earl—although Highlanders cared more about his title as Laird Oliphant—but her decisions five years ago meant no one in Society thought of her as a lady anymore.
Cash’s eyes were twinkling speculatively as they swept her relaxed and lounging form there under the oak.
“Really?” he murmured. “Lucky you.”
Now it was her turn to laugh, just as Matthew succeeded in standing upright in the water with Callan on his shoulders.
“Look, Mama! Look!”
Still chuckling, she sat forward again so she could clap appreciatively. “Well done, Callan! Well done, Matthew! Can ye walk with him like that?”
It appeared not, as they were simply too unstable. But she liked that as soon as Callan tumbled off Matthew’s shoulders, the two of them popped right back up and tried again.
“He’s a good lad,” murmured Cash. “Your husband must be proud of him as well.”
Ah. Well, the old gossip would need to be addressed at some point, but for some unknown reason, she didn’t mind this man knowing the truth. Perhaps because of the odd instant connection the two of them obviously shared.
Or perhaps it was the desire she saw banked in his eyes, which she knew he could see in hers as well.
Shifting around to face him more fully, she held his gaze. “I am no’ married, Cash. Never was.”
