Page 22 of One Forbidden Kiss with the Laird (The Cinderella Shepherd Sisters #2)

‘I think it might be time to escort Miss Shepherd home,’ Lady Leven said, touching Callum’s arm lightly. It was the early hours of the morning and, although the barn was still half-full, a lot of the locals had drifted away in the last half an hour, seeking out the comfort of their beds.

Selina was seated on an upturned box, surrounded by some of the young women of the area. She had an easy manner about her and made friends quickly and the local women had swept her into their group whenever he had stepped away.

‘I know that family of hers are neglectful, but you do not want to be caught trying to sneak her back into Taigh Blath as the household begins to wake up.’

He nodded. His mother was right. In truth, he should have seen that Miss Shepherd was safely home hours earlier, but he had been caught up in the revelry of the evening and enjoyed spending time with her too much, away from the ever-watchful eyes of the Kingsleys.

‘What about you? Will you stay here until I return so I can escort you home?’

His mother gave him an admonishing look. ‘If I cannot walk back home by myself safely in the village where I have lived these last thirty years I do not know what the world is coming to.’

‘A lot of people have had far too much to drink…’

‘You fuss too much.’

‘Let me at least ask Bruce to see you home. You know he would see it as an honour.’

For a moment he thought she would refuse, but after surveying his face, a soft smile on her lips, she nodded. ‘Very well.’

It only took a minute to ask the favour of his old friend and Bruce agreed immediately. Callum thanked the big bear of a man and then turned his attention back to Selina.

‘Can I walk you home?’ he asked quietly, leaning in to speak the words into her ear so only she could hear.

Selina turned quickly, her chin lifting so her face was only inches away from his. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair a little dishevelled, a testament to the raucous nature of the dance in hours past.

Wordlessly she nodded, rising up from her seat on the upturned box before turning her attention back to the women she had been talking to.

One by one they embraced her, gushing about what a wonderful night they’d all had.

Callum marvelled at how easily Selina had fit in to their tight-knit community.

Newcomers were normally viewed with suspicion, especially newcomers from south of the border, but Selina, with her easy manner, had been accepted immediately.

For a moment he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to marry Selina instead of Catherine Kingsley.

He knew the community would take a long time to accept Catherine, even if all the while they were happy that he had found a way to restore the lands that had been sold off as part of his father’s debts.

Everyone would be wary of the daughter of Sir William, the man who had taken so much from them.

In the end he had to pull Selina away from her new friends, earning him a chorus of moans. Thankfully once she was holding on to his arm Callum was able to guide Selina out of the barn quickly.

Outside Selina gasped and for a second he thought something was wrong. He felt a sense of trepidation surge through his veins and immediately he was on high alert, but then he caught a glimpse of her face. She had tipped her head back and was staring up at the stars.

‘They’re the same here,’ she whispered.

‘The same as down south?’

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the sky above.

‘Aye, they are.’

‘It makes the world feel a little bit smaller, doesn’t it, thinking we’re all looking at the same sky.’

He came to stand half beside her, half behind her, and gently picked up her hand and placed it so it rested on his.

At first she stiffened, but the alcohol had made her less wary and after a moment she relaxed into him.

Slowly he guided her hand, tracing out the patterns the stars made in the darkness.

‘There is Orion, with his shield held high, and over there is Centaurus, with the torso and head of a man and the body and legs of a horse. And right here are my two favourite constellations, Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.’

‘The bears?’

‘Aye. I always like to think of them as a mother and her cub.’

‘How do you remember where all the different constellations are?’ she asked, her voice filled with wonder. She swayed back towards him as she spoke, her head brushing against his shoulder.

‘There wasn’t much else to do on the long nights in the Canadian wilderness.’

‘You spent your nights outside?’

‘Some of them.’

‘Someone must have taught you.’

‘There were a group of us. All travelling the same area, although not strictly working together. Of a night time we would gather in the tavern of whatever little town we were passing through, or if it was a night spent in the wilderness we would share a campfire. Many of those men were Scottish and only too happy to share their wisdom with a naive young lad like me.’

‘What was it you did when you were out there?’

‘I worked with animals, horses mainly but sometimes beasts of burden. The company I worked for sold the horses and I would deliver them to where they needed to be—often far out into the wilderness.’

‘You went off on your own on these expeditions?’

‘Until I rescued Hamish. As I say, there were other people following the same roads: fur traders, merchants and men looking for work.’

‘It sounds a very lonely life.’

Callum looked down at her as she turned and their eyes met and he found himself nodding. The loneliness wasn’t something he liked to admit to. He’d gone from a community that was close, where everyone knew his name, to sometimes spending a week with only his dog for company.

‘It was worth it in the end. I made myself useful, eventually saved up enough to become a partner in the company. After many years I made enough to return home with a good amount of money saved up.’

Selina smiled at him sadly. ‘It is not weakness to admit you were lonely. Just as it is not weakness to admit you want something different from the future you are forcing yourself into.’

‘Say what you really feel, Selina,’ he murmured, a smile on his lips.

‘Would you prefer I lied to you?’ Her expression was earnest despite the slight running together of her words.

‘No.’

For a long moment neither of them moved. Selina’s eyes searched his face with an intensity he had never felt before and he had the horrible, crushing sensation that she might find him wanting.

‘We need to get you home,’ he said eventually, her scrutiny becoming too much for him. She didn’t move. He turned back to face her. They were still only fifty feet away from the barn and the sound of the music starting up again floated out.

‘Did you think this was how your life would be?’ she asked.

‘If I answer you, will you allow me to escort you home?’

‘I will.’

‘No.’

‘That is all you are going to give me?’

He offered her his arm and this time she took it, moving so her body was close to his. The night was relatively warm, but it was well after midnight and there was a little chill to the air.

‘You want to know what I was like as an idealistic eighteen-year-old.’

‘More than anything in the world.’

He glanced over at her and found himself getting swept away by her infectious good spirits.

‘Fine. I will reveal my adolescent hopes and dreams, but only if you do the same.’

‘Eighteen was only a few years ago for me.’

‘I feel as though you are implying I am old.’

She shrugged, grinning mischievously again.

There was something of the carefree young woman about her tonight and Callum realised he was getting a glimpse of the woman who had existed before the Kingsleys had subdued and suppressed her.

From their conversations he knew a little about her life, of the time she had spent as a girl growing up on the Sussex coast, to the year she had spent in London with the Kingsleys before travelling up here with them to Scotland.

She had spoken fondly of a sister, a twin if he remembered correctly. Someone she missed dearly.

‘When I was a lad I knew one thing with such burning certainty that sometimes it hurt. I knew whatever happened I did not want to turn into my father.’

‘He wasn’t a good father?’

‘No.’ Callum shrugged, half-acknowledging he was judging the man harshly. During the early years of his childhood there had been good times, before the drink had become more important to his father than anything else, but those memories were distant, overshadowed by what had come next.

‘He had these dark moods, fuelled by alcohol. Sometimes he would sink into a deep melancholy for weeks on end and barely rise from bed. Other times he was up and functioning, but quick to anger. Even the slightest hint of criticism would set him off. He was like an unruly toddler, consumed by anger. He’d throw things at the staff—once I can remember my mother being particularly concerned about a maid who’d had a full pot of ink thrown at her head. ’

‘That’s awful.’

Callum couldn’t bring himself to look at Selina.

He hated pity, hated being seen as vulnerable.

Normally he didn’t like to talk about his childhood—if anyone asked he would just shrug and say it was fine.

Selina had a way of making him relax his guard and often he would find himself revealing things he otherwise wouldn’t ever think of telling someone.

‘Not as awful as many. I had a loving mother, a safe home, enough food and a good education. Compared to the childhoods of many children…’

She spun to face him and interrupted with a firm shake of her head. ‘No, you don’t have to do that.’

‘Do what?’