Page 11 of One Forbidden Kiss with the Laird (The Cinderella Shepherd Sisters #2)
C allum had not been back to Taigh Blath for three days and his visit was long overdue. He had promised to take Miss Kingsley for a walk around the local area and since the dinner party he had received two notes pressing him to confirm when his next visit would be.
This morning he had woken with a renewed sense of determination.
The marriage needed to be finalised, the land returned to the Thomson family and all thoughts of Miss Shepherd banished.
He had been working towards this moment for ten years.
Ten long, hard years as he had clawed his way back from the financial mess his father had left him in.
All through those ten years he had never once wavered in his purpose.
He could not let one pretty young woman send him off track now.
‘You look troubled,’ Catriona Thomson, Countess of Leven, said. She stood from where she was sitting at the kitchen table, chopping vegetables ready for dinner.
‘I’m off to Taigh Blath,’ Callum said, bending down to place a gentle kiss on his mother’s hair.
Her movements were stiff and slow now, the last decade having taken a toll on her health.
She was sixty, with long grey hair that sat in a plait down her back, her skin clear and bright, but with a network of delicate wrinkles.
She sighed and looped and arm around his waist, holding him to her for a moment. ‘You do not have to go, Callum.’
‘Of course I do. Even I baulk at the idea of marrying a woman I have only spent one evening with.’
‘You know I don’t mean that. You don’t have to go at all. Forget this plan, forget marrying this girl. We are comfortable here, no one will begrudge you putting yourself first for once.’
He did not reply. It was an argument they’d had many times over the last few months and neither of them was going to change their opinion.
He had inherited his father’s stubbornness, but his mother was no meek and mild lady, and it meant when they clashed neither would back down.
Thankfully disagreements were few and far between—after living abroad for so many years he was mindful to appreciate everything he had missed while he was away.
‘You should at least bring her to meet your family. She will become part of our community as soon as you marry.’
Callum looked around the comfortable cottage. It was modest in size, but there was no getting past the fact the little residence only contained four rooms. He had a similar dwelling close by. It had everything he needed, but he could not see Miss Kingsley being impressed by the basic cottage.
There was also his desire not to mix these two worlds before he really needed to. One day very soon he would have to finally accept his life was going to change irreversibly, but he was keen to hold off this moment until he had exchanged vows with Miss Kingsley.
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘Stubborn,’ Lady Leven said, shaking her head. ‘You always were stubborn, like your father.’
‘Not just my father.’
‘I am well known for my easy-going attitude and adaptability,’ she said with a little smile.
‘Hmm.’ Callum kissed her once more on the head and then called Hamish to his side. The dog had a favourite spot by the fire in Lady Leven’s cottage and even on a day like today where there was no need for a fire in the grate he still liked to curl up in the same place.
‘Don’t take her on a treacherous path. I think sometimes you forget how difficult the terrain can be if you did not grow up scampering over these hills.’
‘I will take her on a stroll no more strenuous than a walk in a park.’
He left the cottage, appreciating the cool breeze on his face.
It was approaching the best part of the year in Ballachulish, but the weather was always unreliable.
Sometimes June could bring hot weather one afternoon followed by a week of storms and a wind that would be at home whipping across the frozen plains of Canada.
Today the sky was overcast but the temperature pleasant and he hoped they would have an hour or two of fine weather to go for a stroll before the rain set in later in the afternoon.
He walked briskly, Hamish trotting along by his side happily. As he walked he let his eyes roam over the land he loved so much, taking in the hills and the loch in the distance, revelling in the deep sense of satisfaction he got from being out here in the open.
As he approached Taigh Blath he glanced up and saw a figure at one of the upstairs windows.
Even from a distance and with the distortion of the glass he knew it was Miss Shepherd.
Involuntarily his muscles tensed and his breathing became a little shallower.
He thought back to the moment in the upstairs room of the east wing of the house.
He’d come dangerously close to kissing Miss Shepherd there and not for the first time.
The door opened before he could knock and Miss Kingsley herself stepped out to greet him.
She was dressed ready for a gentle stroll, with a bonnet on her head and dainty shoes on her feet—hardly the footwear for the local terrain.
Silently he recalculated the best route to take so as not to tax Miss Kingsley in her unsuitable footwear.
‘Good afternoon,’ he greeted her, forcing a smile on to his face.
Apart from her abrupt, sometimes rude treatment of Miss Shepherd, Miss Kingsley had not done anything to offend him and he needed to make more of an effort to be pleasant and welcoming to her.
Sir William did not seem to be the sort of man to be influenced by others, but if Miss Kingsley petitioned her father to push through the marriage on her behalf then it would hopefully mean the negotiations became a little easier.
‘Good afternoon, shall we go?’ She spoke quietly, touching his elbow and pressing him to turn away from the house.
‘I trust you are well, Miss Kingsley?’
‘Very well. Shall we leave?’ she said, glancing over the shoulder.
He hesitated. ‘Do we not need a chaperon?’
‘Catherine,’ Lady Kingsley’s voice rang out from the house. Miss Kingsley pressed her lips together in displeasure. ‘Miss Shepherd will accompany you. It would be improper to be out alone with Lord Leven, even though soon he will be family.’
Miss Shepherd stepped out and as her boots touched the ground outside the sun appeared from behind a cloud and shone down on her, illuminating her like a creature from heaven.
Callum silently scoffed at his own thoughts and firmly pushed them away. Hamish barked and ran to Miss Shepherd, jumping up to receive a scratch behind his ears that left the dog’s tail wagging.
‘You spoil him,’ Callum murmured.
‘Nonsense. A handsome, good boy like him deserves some love and attention,’ Miss Shepherd said, not looking up.
‘He’s a working dog.’
‘Even working dogs can enjoy a little petting.’
‘Lord Leven asked you to leave the dog alone, Selina. Leave. Him. Alone.’ Miss Kingsley spoke sharply, reaching out to tug at the other young woman when she did not straighten immediately.
Miss Shepherd raised an eyebrow, looked directly at Miss Kingsley and ruffled Hamish’s ears a final time before stepping away. Hamish barked happily and fell in beside Miss Shepherd as if she had been his companion all his life.
‘Have a pleasant walk,’ Lady Kingsley said before turning to Miss Shepherd and saying pointedly, ‘I expect you will want to give Catherine and Lord Leven some privacy while remaining within a respectable distance.’
Fighting the urge to flee, Callum instead escorted Miss Kingsley down the drive away from Taigh Blath, aware of Miss Shepherd trailing behind somewhere with Hamish trotting happily alongside her.
Once or twice he glanced back, but in the whole he managed to focus mainly on the young woman beside him rather than the one he wanted to be walking beside.
Miss Shepherd was studiously avoiding eye contact with him and the further they walked the more distance she put between them.
He led Miss Kingsley on a gentle walk through the countryside, making sure he kept to well-trodden paths and gentle inclines only. As they walked he pointed out the local beauty spots, of which there were many.
‘I’ve always loved this view,’ Callum said, pausing to point out the way the hills rolled down to the edge of the loch and the trees lined the opposite bank.
Miss Kingsley scrunched up her nose and looked around dubiously. ‘Is it always so…muddy?’
Callum laughed and then realised she was not joking.
‘We have a fair bit of rain in the Highlands, so there is always a little mud underfoot,’ he said, his voice measured.
Despite years living in the wilderness of Canada, spending long periods on his own, Callum normally found it easy to talk to people, but he was struggling with Miss Kingsley.
He told himself it didn’t matter they had nothing in common, with time surely she would come to love the lochs and the glens almost as much as he did.
‘It is spring, nearly summer. Please tell me it doesn’t rain all summer long.’
‘Even in London it must rain in the summer months sometimes.’
‘Of course, but there is much to divert oneself with in London. Shopping and going to balls and attending the opera.’ She looked at him with sudden interest. ‘Do you have any culture up here?’
Callum bristled, fighting to keep the note of irritation from his voice. He knew what she meant—she was asking if there were social events, plays, operas, such as she was used to—but it felt as though she was judging Ballachulish and its people as uncultured.
‘I dare say there are such things in Glasgow, perhaps even in Oban, but we are a little rural out here in Ballachulish for it to be worthwhile to build an opera house or a theatre. Most people choose to enjoy the natural beauty of the land that surrounds them. They swim in the lochs and take picnics on long walks.’
Miss Kingsley looked horrified for a moment before fixing her face into a more suitable expression.