Page 1 of One Forbidden Kiss with the Laird (The Cinderella Shepherd Sisters #2)
S elina stood looking out over the murky water, mesmerised by the movement as the wind disturbed the surface and sent ripples in first one direction and then another. It was a cloudy night so there was no reflection of the moon or stars, just a deep, inky blackness that seemed to suck in all light.
The rain had started in earnest a few minutes earlier and now was stinging her face as if a thousand tiny needles were assaulting her.
Never had she known cold like this. It wasn’t even winter, yet the chill of the air penetrated through her many layers and made her shiver and shake.
Normally she would run back to the house and warm herself by one of the roaring fires, but tonight Selina relished the cold as it seeped through her clothes.
It reminded her she was alive. Besides, there was nothing to rush back for—no one would miss her, or, if they did, they would be quietly thankful she was not there, an unwelcome outsider on this trip.
She sighed, wondering how she had been so stupid for so long.
All she had wanted was a little bit of affection, a private acknowledgement that she did matter.
She was the illegitimate child of Sir William Kingsley, abandoned along with her twin sister and her mother twenty-two years earlier.
She hadn’t ever asked for her father to publicly declare his relationship to her, but she had hoped…
Her thought trailed off. She wasn’t sure what she had been hoping for.
She’d dreamed of tearful reunions and being swept into the heart of a loving family.
She had fantasised about her father insisting she be recognised as his daughter and arranging a parade of desirable young men as her suitors.
Selina let out a half-sob, half-scoff. The reality had been very different. Hidden away, her existence barely acknowledged, treated like a disease-ridden beggar girl by her father’s wife and legitimate daughter.
For some reason she had thought this trip to Scotland would be different.
It had been a surprise when she had been invited and the naive part of her had hoped it might signal a softening towards her.
Officially she had been introduced as a pauper distant relative, taken in to fulfil some light secretarial duties and also provide companionship to Catherine Kingsley, without ever letting on that Catherine was in fact her half-sister.
Now she could see her father was just desperate to keep her quiet and the only way he could ensure she was not going around telling everyone the truth of her origins was if he kept her close.
Selina crouched down, letting her fingers trail over the surface of the loch.
The water lapped against the bank here, dark and deep.
She got the sense that if she fell in it would swallow her up, dragging her down into the abyss.
That wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to be in the light, to twirl through the ballrooms of London, to parade with her head held high in Hyde Park.
Slowly she stood, wondering if she could find a new dream.
Ever since she had discovered her father wasn’t some obscure soldier, dead before she was born, her dreams had been centred around being accepted into high Society, a place she would never normally have been able to penetrate.
Now she could see it was never going to happen.
She needed a new dream, something different to strive for, but she did not know what that could be.
With a sigh she took one last look down into the darkness of the water, teetering on the edge of the loch. She spread her arms wide, allowing the wind to whip at her cloak, reminding herself that it was good to be alive, even if she was stuck in Scotland with people who despised her.
* * *
Callum Thomson paused, ignoring the wind and rain that whipped at his body.
Extremes of weather were to be expected here and ever since he had returned to Scotland he had learned to appreciate the storms that battered his homeland.
By his side Hamish waited patiently, alert for any possible danger, one ear cocked and one front paw raised, as if ready to dash after an invisible prey at any moment.
Visibility was poor in these conditions, but Callum’s eyes were sharp and he knew these hills better than any other place on earth. Down by the edge of Loch Leven there was something out of place.
‘Let’s have a look, boy,’ he said quietly to Hamish and together man and dog made their way towards the loch.
They covered the ground quickly, Callum’s feet seeming to float over the uneven ground. When they were still about fifty feet away he saw the young woman standing, teetering on the edge of the loch and then spreading her arms wide.
His heart sank and he felt a rush of panic.
In his opinion Loch Leven was one of the most beautiful places in the world, but in this weather there was a danger to it, a savagery that people could underestimate.
It had claimed the lives of many over the centuries and most recently his father just ten years earlier.
On a night not unlike tonight his father had thrown himself into the loch, giving in to the demons that chased him.
Callum had been unable to do anything to save his father, but he would not let some other poor soul go the same way.
With a roar he ran as fast as he could towards the figure on the edge of the loch, deviating from the straight path between them and him only at the last minute so he could dive at them from the side without risking knocking them both into the cold water.
He launched his body through the air and tackled the person to the ground, surprised when they toppled so easily, letting out a high-pitched shriek.
Callum landed on top of the woman, her elbow finding its way into his upper abdomen, knocking the air from his lungs. She lay motionless underneath him, her eyes wide and alert, but her body stunned.
For thirty seconds neither of them could move and then the woman began to wriggle, panic filling her eyes.
Callum scrambled back, pushing himself to his feet and moving a little distance away.
He wanted to reassure her that he was not there to hurt her, but he also did not want to move so far away that she could go ahead and launch herself into the cold water as she had seemed so intent on doing only a minute earlier.
‘Don’t do it,’ he rasped.
She looked at him, her face a picture of incredulity.
‘Don’t do what?’
‘Jump.’
For a moment it was as if his words did not register and he wondered if her mind was affected by the harsh conditions. He had seen many a hardy man lose his sense of reason if out in the cold and the wind for too long.
‘Jump? I wasn’t going to jump.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Only a fool would stand so close to the edge of the loch if they weren’t contemplating jumping in.’
‘It is hardly the night for a swim.’ She was regaining her colour now and some of her spirit, straightening her back and lowering her shoulders as she looked at him.
‘Why did you attack me?’
He snorted. ‘I didnae attack you. I saved your life.’
‘My life was never in peril,’ she said, jutting out her chin.
She was petite with long brown hair that hung loose underneath the hood of her cloak.
Her eyes were dark, perhaps brown or green, it was impossible to tell in this light, but Callum saw a spark of temper flare in them.
He wasn’t overly surprised—if someone had tackled him to the ground while he was out for an evening stroll he would have been furious.
‘If you don’t want people to think you are about to end your life, then don’t stand at the very edge of the loch and spread out your arms as if asking God to accept you into heaven.’
‘I was enjoying the feel of the rain on my skin,’ she said, indignant.
‘Good lord,’ he murmured. ‘English.’
‘Excuse me?’
He regarded her for a moment before expanding. ‘Only the English would think it a good idea to come walking out in the wilderness in a flimsy cloak and unsuitable boots and then hark on about enjoying the feel of the rain on their skin.’
‘And only a brute would attack a woman standing alone at the edge of a lake.’
‘I didnae attack you,’ he ground out, shaking his head. A moment ago he had resolved to see the young woman back home safely, but now all he could think about was getting away.
Hamish barked, wagging his tail as if enjoying the interaction immensely.
He was a working dog, well trained and reliable, but with so much energy even twelve hours running over the Scottish hills could not tire him out.
Barking again, he charged forward towards the woman.
Callum called out a command and quick as lightning Hamish obeyed, returning in two bounds to Callum’s side, but the young woman had already reacted, taking a step back as she thought Hamish was about to pounce.
Her foot landed in a patch of mud and she slithered back, flinging her arms out to the side and a look of horror on her face.
Callum didn’t hesitate. If she took one more step back, she would end up in the loch and, even if she could swim, the weight of her clothes would likely drag her down.
He did not fancy a dip in the cold water to save her, especially on a night like tonight.
He lunged forward and grabbed the front of her dress, grimacing as he heard a rip as the material tore.
Quickly he slipped his other arm around her waist. Together they teetered on the edge for a moment, both slipping towards the loch in the mud, and then he managed to pull her back, landing in a pile a few feet away from the water’s edge.