Page 8 of One Forbidden Kiss with the Laird (The Cinderella Shepherd Sisters #2)

W ith one last, unhappy, tug on his cravat Callum knocked at the door.

It felt odd to stand outside his own home, to knock on the door and have to wait to be invited in, but he was not a man who had always taken the easy path through life and he knew with a certainty that burned bright inside him that one day Taigh Blath would be his again.

The door opened and he was ushered inside. He was greeted by the dulcet sounds of a piano and Lady Kingsley hurrying down the stairs to meet him.

‘Lord Leven, a pleasure to see you again. We are lucky to have you as our guest twice in one day.’

She brushed a hand lightly along his back and ushered him towards the drawing room and the sound of the piano.

‘My daughter will be down momentarily. She wanted to look her very best for you,’ Lady Kingsley said as she showed him to a seat and clicked her fingers at a footman who appeared at her side in an instant carrying a tray of drinks. ‘Champagne. We will soon be celebrating after all.’

‘Thank you.’ He took the glass and raised it to his lips to take a fortifying gulp.

It would be good to have something to settle his nerves.

There were a lot of people relying on him getting this right, a lot of people who would be keen to see the back of the Kingsleys for good if he could negotiate the return of some of his ancestral lands.

‘I will let Catherine know you have arrived and hurry her along.’

Lady Kingsley glided over to the piano and leaned down, murmuring something he couldn’t quite catch before leaving the room.

From his position he could only see the top of the head of the young woman playing the piano, but even from just a few strands of hair he knew it was Miss Shepherd.

She played well, her fingers dancing easily over the keys and the music clear and well paced.

Callum thought back to their encounter earlier that afternoon, the time they had spent sitting on the tree branch together, and inevitably his mind jumped to the moment he had helped her from the branch.

His hands had grabbed her hips and as he’d lowered her to the ground she had slid down his body.

It had been an intimate moment and one that he could not stop thinking about.

Normally he prided himself on being someone who was fully in control of his actions and emotions, but in that moment if she had lingered a second longer he would have kissed her.

Kissed her and jeopardised everything he had been working for these last ten years.

The sensible thing to do now would be to sit in his chair and sip his champagne while waiting for the Kingsley family to appear.

Callum tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, straining his neck to catch a glimpse of Miss Shepherd’s face.

She had not missed a single note since he had entered the house, not even when Lady Kingsley went to speak with her.

He shifted in his chair, telling himself to stay put, but the urge to move got too much and before he could stop himself he was on his feet and halfway to the piano.

‘You play well,’ he said, coming to stand behind Miss Shepherd’s left shoulder.

‘I play adequately. I can follow the music, match the desired melody and tempo.’

‘You speak as though that is not a skill.’

‘If you heard my sister play, you would understand what a talented pianist was. When her fingers touch the keys it is as if she becomes one with the music. Every note is infused with meaning and sentiment.’ Miss Shepherd spoke without turning, her eyes following the music, but it was obvious she only needed to utilise a little of her brain to play the familiar piece.

‘Your sister is not here with you in Scotland?’

‘No. She was recently married.’

Miss Shepherd flicked her head subtly and Callum saw a stray strand of hair that had come loose from the pins that must be tickling her neck.

Without thinking he reached out and hooked the curled strand with his index finger, moving it back over her shoulder to where it would not irritate her.

As he did so she leaned ever so slightly towards him and his fingers brushed against her neck.

She stiffened and missed the next note, the silence emphasising how inappropriate his touch had been.

‘Forgive me,’ he murmured.

‘You should sit down, my lord. My…’ She paused, correcting herself. ‘Lady Kingsley will not be happy if she sees me talking to you.’

‘Why not?’

‘It is not my place.’

‘That is what she said to you?’

Miss Shepherd sighed. ‘Why does it bother you? You do not know me.’

She was right, of course. The sensible thing to do would be to walk back over to his chair and sit sipping his champagne while he waited for his future fiancée and her parents to be ready for the evening ahead.

Callum did not move. His feet were planted firmly and he doubted even the strongest of men could have shifted him in that instant.

‘I do not wish to get you into trouble…’

‘Sit down, then.’

‘Thankfully, most of my traits and behaviours I get from my mother, but my obstinance, my dislike of being manipulated, that is a trait my father possessed.’

‘I’m not manipulating you.’

‘I know. Lady Kingsley, on the other hand, strikes me as someone who prides herself in being a puppeteer.’

This earned him an assessing glance, although only a momentary one. Miss Shepherd had regained her composure and she wasn’t going to be easily distracted again.

‘Lady Kingsley reminded me of my place,’ Miss Shepherd said eventually.

‘What is your place?’

‘I told you. Distant relative, unwanted companion, someone who certainly should not do anything to jeopardise the marriage negotiations the Kingsley family have travelled four hundred miles to complete.’

‘Move over,’ Callum said, tapping her lightly on the shoulder when she stayed right where she was.

‘Return to your seat, my lord.’

‘The next part is played best as a duet.’

Miss Shepherd scoffed. ‘It sounds perfectly fine played alone.’

‘It sounds better with two. Move over or I will have to sit on you.’

This got her moving, shifting along the piano stool as if one end was on fire. Callum sat down next to her, wondering why he was persisting in bothering her rather than sitting in the comfortable chair at the other end of the drawing room.

Part of him wondered if it was his mind’s subtle way of trying to sabotage this arrangement with the Kingsleys.

On the whole he did not oppose the idea of marriage, but never had he wanted to marry a complete stranger, especially one who was used to a vastly different life to the one he could offer.

He was no fool—the Kingsleys were obscenely wealthy and what Sir William coveted was a link to the aristocracy.

No one in England had agreed to tie themselves to the social climbing family, so Sir William had started to look further afield.

Miss Kingsley would become Lady Leven, Countess of Leven when they married, but she would not live in the luxury she had grown used to. It could make for an unhappy marriage.

Despite all this he was resolved to go through with the match. Too many people were relying on him for him to back out now, but despite this resolution he was aware of his own reluctance and wondered if this sudden desire for Miss Shepherd was a symptom of that.

Pushing the thought away, he concentrated on the music, his fingers dancing over the keys, playing the lower notes in accompaniment to her higher ones.

He kept his eyes trained on the piano, aware he had not played for a very long time, but he felt Miss Shepherd glance at him once or twice and felt the curiosity in her look.

He played the last notes with a flourish and neither of them moved as the sound faded away.

‘I didn’t imagine you could play the piano,’ Miss Shepherd said quietly.

‘You have been thinking about me, then?’

Colour flooded to Miss Shepherd’s cheeks and he felt something tighten and pulse inside him as she bit her lip.

Callum was a man of the world. Despite dedicating the last decade of his life to rebuilding some of the fortune his father had lost, he had on occasion taken time to appreciate worldly pleasures.

There had been no woman who he had felt the urge to settle down with, but he’d had dalliances.

He recognised the flare of desire and knew he had to quickly distance himself before he ruined everything.

Clearing his throat he stood, stepping away just in time as footsteps became audible from the stairs.

After a few seconds Miss Kingsley burst into the room in a haze of perfume.

She was dressed in a gown made from the finest pale-blue silk with a thousand tiny white flowers embroidered on the fabric.

It seemed out of place here in a drawing room in the Highlands, but they were clearly trying to impress him with their show of wealth.

Callum consoled himself that it was reassuring they were doing so much to entice him; despite the slow start the negotiations must mean as much to the Kingsleys as they did to him.

Miss Kingsley flashed a quick glare at Miss Shepherd, quickly covering the expression as she turned to face him, her lips spread into a beatific smile.

‘Lord Leven, I am sorry to keep you waiting. I wanted to look my very best for you.’ She gave a pretty little curtsy and looked up at him from under lowered lashes. Callum was not so starved of polite society that he didn’t know now was when he was meant to offer a compliment.

‘You look very…nice,’ he ventured.

‘And you look dashing,’ Miss Kingsley said, stepping forward to lay a hand on his arm. ‘I am just sorry I was not here to receive you.’

‘Miss Shepherd was kind enough to keep me company.’ As soon as the words were out of his mouth he realised he’d made a mistake. The atmosphere in the room turned instantaneously frosty.

‘Wonderful,’ Lady Kingsley said after a moment, ushering Callum to a seat, her expression stony. ‘Miss Shepherd is a comfort to us all.’

There was a pause as everyone sat, Miss Kingsley taking up a perch next to him, her legs angled towards him.

He was struck again by how young she looked, although by her behaviour you would not know it.

Someone had taught her all the wiles a young woman was meant to employ while trying to ensnare a husband, but it looked as though his was her first try at using them.

Everything felt a bit awkward, a bit forced.

‘Selina, join us,’ Sir William called over his shoulder. Miss Shepherd hesitated, looking surprised at the invitation, but obediently she came and sat with them. ‘I wonder, Lord Leven, you know all about our family, but we do not know about yours. Do you have many relatives living close by?’

‘The Thomson clan is not as big as it once was, but there are still quite a few of us in the area.’ He didn’t like talking about his family, not with outsiders.

There was a long history of misery and woe that had led the once-powerful Thomsons to the position they were in now.

Many had left the area, travelling south to try their luck in the burgeoning cities in northern England, or like him had taken a ship further afield to Canada or the United States.

The people who had stayed were those who had found it harder to start a new life elsewhere.

The old and infirm, or those with lots of young children.

‘Your family have held land in the area for centuries, I believe?’ Sir William said.

‘We have.’ He thought of the small parcel of land with two small cottages on it—that was all that was left now. It had been the worst moment of his life, that moment he’d had to sell Taigh Blath and all the estate land that went with it.

‘It must be nice, having somewhere you feel a deep connection to,’ Miss Shepherd said quietly, her cheeks flushing as all eyes turned to her. ‘To know your ancestors walked the same paths, fished in the same lochs, climbed the same trees.’

‘I hardly think Lord Leven spends his time climbing trees,’ Miss Kingsley snorted. ‘He is an earl, not one of the fishermen you grew up with.’

Callum’s eyes widened a little at the venom in Miss Kingsley’s voice.

Turning to Miss Shepherd, he smiled softly, trying to reassure her.

‘This land is a part of me as much as any flesh or blood. I know every path, every hill, every single inch of it. I know where the soil is fertile and perfect for crops and where the ground holds too much water and if you plant any seeds they will rot before they can sprout.’

‘You learned this as a child?’

‘Yes. Not from my father, he was not a careful caretaker of Taigh Blath and the estate, but from other members of my family.’

‘Selina, you overstep,’ Miss Kingsley said sharply. ‘Can you not see you have upset our guest, talking of the past.’

Miss Shepherd pressed her lips together in a way that made Callum suspect she was biting down a scathing retort and not for the first time he wondered what her true relationship was with the Kingsley family.

None of them seemed particularly kind to her.

Miss Kingsley was unable to hide her dislike and Lady Kingsley was not much better.

Sir William seemed less openly antagonistic, but he wasn’t exactly warm to the young woman.

Thankfully the awkwardness was cut short by a footman entering the room to announce dinner.

As he stood Miss Kingsley gripped hold of his arm, smiling up at him. He had to suppress a shudder, telling himself there was nothing wrong with the young woman. She was keen, that was all, and given his reluctance he found her attitude a little too much, but he would have to get over it.

‘My dear, would you show Lord Leven into the dining room. I wish to have a word with Catherine and Selina. We will be no more than a minute.’ Sir William spoke directly to his wife, motioning for her and their guest to go on ahead.

Lady Kingsley looked thrown, but like a consummate hostess she just smiled and nodded, guiding Callum from the room into another opulent setting. Callum strained to hear what was being said in the drawing room, but the walls were too thick and Sir William’s voice too low.