Page 12 of One Forbidden Kiss with the Laird (The Cinderella Shepherd Sisters #2)
‘Come on, let us get closer to the loch.’
It was a bad move, for as they approached the water’s edge they were attacked by swarms of midges. They flitted around their faces, landing on their bare skin and tangling in their hair.
‘We should climb higher,’ Callum called out, knowing the midges preferred it close to the water. Up on the hillside they would likely escape the swarms.
‘Yes, please let us go higher,’ Miss Shepherd said, quickly pressing her lips together against the swarms of tiny flies. It was the first time she had spoken since they’d left Taigh Blath and she’d only now broken her silence out of necessity.
Miss Kingsley nodded in agreement, not wanting to open her mouth and invite in the horrible little creatures.
She looked miserable, with lifeless strands of hair stuck to her forehead under her bonnet and the first red bumps from the midge bites visible on her cheeks.
Callum’s heart sank. His plan had been to show Miss Kingsley the best of his country, to make her fall in love with the nature and the wildlife and the people, starting with one of his favourite views in all the world.
Instead he was afraid he’d traumatised the young woman.
She had made her views clear on the lack of cultural and social events in Ballachulish and Callum had the sinking feeling that she would try to persuade him to set up their primary residence elsewhere once they were married. Perhaps in Edinburgh or, even worse, London.
Quickly they climbed, Hamish darting backwards and forward, having a great time as the walk turned from gentle stroll into more strenuous hike. After five minutes they had escaped the swarms of midges and after ten he called a stop to the march.
Miss Kingsley flopped down and pulled her bonnet from her head, closing her eyes for a moment. She looked exhausted and close to tears. Callum laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and after a moment she opened her eyes and looked up at him.
‘I’m sorry. The midges are unpredictable. I wanted to show you the view, not torture you.’
‘What disgusting things they are. I do not know how you can bear to live here being bombarded by horrible little flies all the time.’ Her voice was sharp, her tone accusatory, but Callum could see she was genuinely upset about how the morning had turned out.
‘You do get used to it,’ Callum said softly. ‘The hills, the mud, the midges. I am sure it seems very different right now to the world you are used to, but with time…’
Miss Kingsley looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.
‘I do not plan to let the failings of the Scottish countryside affect our planned union, my lord, but I do not think I can pretend that I will ever get used to any of this.’ She waved a hand vaguely around her, crossing her arms in front of her chest and pressing her lips together firmly.
Callum breathed out slowly before speaking again.
Everything seemed difficult with Miss Kingsley.
Every time they spoke their conversation was stilted and he realised they had absolutely nothing in common.
He had to tell himself that it didn’t matter, people all over the world married when they barely knew one another, he had never fantasised about falling in love, so he would just have to put up with Miss Kingsley’s moans and hope that once she had settled in she would see the positives of her new life in Scotland.
‘We can rest here for a while before taking another route down. That way we will avoid the worst of the midges at the water’s edge.’
He glanced up, his eyes searching for Miss Shepherd who had not come to join them. She was standing a little distance away, hands on hips, surveying the view.
‘Excuse me one moment,’ he said to Miss Kingsley, moving away before she could protest. Over the years he had learned to move quietly.
In his youth his father had loved hunting and often would take Callum with him as a sharp pair of eyes to spot the elusive stags he liked to shoot and display on the walls of Taigh Blath.
As Callum grew older he found an excuse to eschew the hunting trips, but the skill of moving silently through any environment was one that had served him well over the years.
‘It is beautiful, is it not?’ he said quietly as he stopped a pace behind Miss Shepherd.
She did not move, did not turn to face him.
Instead he was left to stare at the back of her neck.
Despite Miss Kingsley sitting only a few feet away he had the urge to reach out and touch the soft skin, to twist the loose hairs around his fingers and feel their silky smoothness.
He reprimanded himself immediately and as penance looked back over his shoulder and gave Miss Kingsley a half-smile.
‘It is beautiful,’ she conceded after half a minute of silence.
Finally she turned to face him and he was surprised to see there were tears in her eyes. He reached out, this time unable to stop himself, and took her hand, thankful his actions were shielded from Miss Kingsley’s view by his broad back.
‘Is it the midges?’
She laughed and shook her head.
‘Is it me?’
After that question her eyes snapped up to meet his and he saw the mixture of hurt and longing in them.
He hadn’t wanted to step away from her in the east wing of Taigh Blath—every single fibre of his body had wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her.
He could not explain this attraction he felt.
Miss Shepherd was pretty, that much was undeniable, but he had met countless pretty young women over the years that he had never given a second thought to.
Yet here was Miss Shepherd, appearing at the most important moment of his life so far, who he could not stop thinking about.
‘No.’ She turned away abruptly, looking out longingly at the view. After a minute she glanced back and, when she saw he had not moved, she sighed. ‘In many ways this is a very different view from back home, but there is something about it that reminds me of the places I loved in Sussex.’
‘You are pining for familiar shores.’
‘I am.’ She gave a little, humourless laugh. ‘Although if I went back in time and told the me from a year ago I wanted nothing more than to breath in the salty sea air as I climbed the winding streets to the Firehills in Hastings, the me back then would have laughed.’
‘I think it is natural to want to experience a little of what the rest of the world has to offer us,’ Callum said, remembering his excitement when he had first stepped off the ship on to Canadian shores.
His plan had always been to return home, but those first few months had been an adventure he’d been glad to live through.
‘I was dismissive of our home, our life in Hastings. I think my sister would have stayed there after our mother’s death if I had asked her to. Now…’ She trailed off.
‘Now it feels as though you do not have a home?’
She nodded, the tears glinting in her eyes again, although she was able to stop them from spilling on to her cheeks.
‘Will the Kingsleys offer you a place, once they return to London?’
Miss Shepherd looked at him in horror, so aghast at his suggestion that she took a stumbling step back. ‘I am leaving soon, much sooner than the Kingsleys.’
He felt a sense of disappointment at her declaration, even though he had no right to feel anything about her travel intentions.
‘Where will you go?’
She shrugged.
‘Your father is deceased?’
There was a moment’s pause before she nodded, her eyes sliding away from his.
‘My sister will take me in, I will not be left on the streets.’
‘Do I sense a reluctance there? Do you not get on with your sister?’
‘No. Sarah is the best person I have ever met. She is kind and patient and wonderful,’ Miss Shepherd paused for a moment to formulate her next sentence. ‘She has married well and she would like nothing more than to give me security and a home for life.’
‘That is not what you want?’
Miss Shepherd turned to face him fully, her eyes searching his face.
He felt naked beneath her gaze, as if she were assessing the depths of his soul.
‘I want something of my own. I do not know as yet what that is, but I know it will not be a life where I am reliant on my sister’s charity. I want more. Do you understand?’
‘Yes.’ It was all the reply needed. He had always been driven by an indescribable urge to strive for more, to stretch for something that was just out of reach.
Over the years this drive had served him well, going from destitute heir, scrabbling to find a way to satisfy all his father’s debtors, to a man who was about to restore to his family the majority of their lands and estates.
‘You will find it, whatever it is you are looking for.’
‘It would be simpler if I knew what that was.’
‘It would,’ he said, leaning in closer and catching a hint of her scent, a subtle floral perfume. ‘But perhaps less fun.’
Her eyes flicked to his lips and then back up to look directly into his.
As he watched her he saw her cheeks flush and her pupils widen and it was all he could do to stop himself from stepping up and kissing her.
It was intoxicating, knowing a woman, especially a woman he himself felt an intense attraction to, desired him so much.
For the first time he wondered what his life would be like if he gave in to his desires and kissed her right there on the hill overlooking the loch.
The marriage to Miss Kingsley would be called off, which in itself would not be a great loss.
Instead he would get to wake up to Miss Shepherd beside him every day, to tumble her into his bed every evening.
With great difficulty he looked away. It was cruel to do anything else. His desire for her could not overshadow what he had been working towards for so long. With a stab of guilt he realised he had been longing for one woman while his intended sat only a few feet away.