Page 17 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Hellion (Auctioned Highland Brides #4)

The rug had a pattern of dragons around the rim. Callum had never noticed before.

Then again, I havenae often lain on it like this.

His body felt languid and soft, the fire crackling, the room warm. He could have stayed there all day, and as soon as that thought entered his mind, he sat up. Lydia was still lying on the floor beneath him, her hair twisting outward from her head in long strands.

She looked like a fairy that had fallen from the sky, except that her wrists were still bound to the chair.

Callum kneeled down, untying her hastily and offering her a hand. He pulled her to her feet, noting that she didn’t meet his eye, her cheeks beautifully flushed.

They both froze as there was a soft click on the other side of the door, and her face flushed even darker as they heard giggles on the other side.

I just hope the wee ones didnae hear any of that.

Callum bent down for his léine, tugging it on, his mind in a whirl from what had just taken place.

For four long years, he had not taken a woman to his bed. He had long believed his brother had destroyed any hope of the fairer sex finding him desirable—and yet here they were.

He glanced at Lydia, her fingers tugging at the skirts of her dress, lips compressing together continually as if she were not sure what to say.

“Dae ye have somethin’ on yer mind, lass?” he asked.

Lydia glanced up at him, her fingers running through her hair to right it. One of the pins had fallen onto the rug and was sparkling beneath them. Callum stooped to retrieve it, handing it to her gently.

“Th… thank you,” she said, her eyes meeting his with a puzzled frown. “That was…” she looked around her at the floor and the scene of their pleasure and shook her head. “I thought you did not wish for us to be close like that.”

Callum forced himself not to shift his weight, even as the truth of her words hit home. She was right. He had told her this was a marriage of convenience, and yet he could not even hold by his own words.

We arenae even married yet, what the hell was I thinkin’?

“I shouldnae have let it go this far, lass,” he said, the words feeling unwelcome on his tongue. “I’ll see to it that it doesnae happen again.”

Lydia’s frown cleared, but her eyes grew sad as she hitched her dress up her shoulder.

“Ye look presentable, if that’s what ye are worryin’ about,” he said, trying to add some humor into his words.

The look on her face was making him want to take her into his arms again. He wanted to take her to his bed at that very moment and lie with her all day and night until they were both spent.

Callum stepped away. “I think we have been released from the room now.”

As he spoke, the door opened, and a maid entered, bobbing a curtsy.

“If you please, M’Laird, the Duchess of Bentley and her son have arrived.”

Lydia’s head snapped up, and in seconds, she had walked across the room toward the door.

“Thank you,” she said briskly to the maid. “Please tell them I will be down to greet them shortly,” she said, leaving the room without a backward glance at him.

Callum looked down at himself, noting the state of his clothing. He corrected his kilt, twisting it round, so it was facing the right direction, and tucked his léine inside.

Walking to the window, he looked out at the lake, an unwelcome shiver running over his skin.

Ye are a fool, Callum Lawson. Ye have opened the gates, and now things are floodin’ in that have no business bein’ there.

Lydia’s soft sighs, the way her body had arched for him, the cries and groans of pleasure—he could have listened to them all night. He wanted to go and seek her out, lift her over his shoulder, and take her to his bed.

But he had watched lust control his brother for years. Women brought nothing but trouble, no matter how infatuated he felt right at this moment.

It is the aftermath of the pleasure. It will pass.

Lydia ran up the stairs to her bed chamber, bursting through the door.

Hannah gave a startled cry from where she was arranging her dresses in the wardrobe, and Lydia began hastily pulling at her gown.

“Whatever happened to you, M’Lady? You look as if you’ve been mauled by a bear!”

Lydia’s mind worked feverishly. “I tripped and fell,” she said, hoping her cheeks were not as scarlet as they felt. “Please help me dress, my mother has arrived.”

Hannah hurried about the room, collecting pins and clasps and pulling out a dark green gown from the wardrobe.

In a few minutes, Lydia was dressed, and Hannah speedily rearranged her hair in soft curls down her back, pinning the rest at the top of her head.

Lydia’s mind felt as if it was scattering in a thousand different directions. She had barely had time to process what had happened with Callum before the door was unlocked, and she had to go and greet her mother.

It was alarming how easy it had been to let her guard down with the Laird.

His strong hands and huge body had made her feel protected and safe, and now, sitting in her room, she was unsure how to feel at the memory.

Why did he touch me that way when he told me he had no interest in a wife? Was it just to pass the time? Does he care for me at all?

She rose, allowing Hannah to quickly inspect her before heading down to find her family.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, her heart lifted as she heard a familiar little voice asking, “Where is Lydia?” from the entrance hall.

Breaking into a run, she skipped through the archway and cried out in delight as she saw Tommy beside her mother.

Her brother ran to her immediately, clutching tightly to her legs and squeezing so hard she thought he might topple her over.

“Your dress is so big!” Tommy said, stepping back and pulling the fabric out to look at it, and Lydia laughed.

Her mother approached and embraced her fiercely, something falling into place in Lydia’s chest as the two people she loved most in the world stood before her again.

“I am sorry your father is not with us,” her mother murmured. “He had several meetings in town, and?—”

“It is all right, Mama,” Lydia said, mindful of Tommy clutching at her skirts. “I know Father would not wish to trouble himself with such a journey. He is rid of me, that is all that matters to him.”

“You live in a real castle!” Tommy said loudly, tugging at her skirts again. “I could see it for miles before we arrived, and there is a great lake outside, too.”

Lydia smiled at his wide-eyed enthusiasm. “So there is, I would be happy to show you around, Tommy. You may even have some playmates when you meet the Laird’s nieces.”

Her mother’s gaze snapped to Lydia, her eyebrows raising.

“The Laird has nieces?” she asked, as Tommy sought out Lydia’s hand and held onto it tightly.

“Yes,” Lydia murmured. “They are twins and very sweet girls.”

“But he did not tell you of this before you came?” Her mother’s eyes were dark and assessing as they made their way through the corridor to the main hall.

“No, not at first.”

The Duchess said nothing more, but Lydia could feel her disapproval.

As they walked into the large space, however, the Duchess looked about her in awe, her mouth hanging open as she took in the grandeur of the structure.

The main hall was by far the most impressive of any room in the castle, banners and tapestries adorning every wall, and an enormous fireplace opposite them, four times as long as any in her father’s house.

“My goodness. How do you maintain such a place?” her mother asked quietly, and Lydia laughed.

“I am only just finding my way around it, Mama. But the housekeeper is very kind, and the Laird has given me a tour of the place.”

Her mother’s look of quiet disapproval softened, and a small smile tugged at the edges of her mouth as she glanced at something at the edge of the room.

“I believe we have visitors.”

Lydia turned to see two little faces poking around the edge of the door.

Eilis and Amy were confident around Lydia now, even after so short a time, but they seemed very shy of newcomers.

“You can come in, girls. I would like to introduce you to my mother, the Duchess of Bentley, and my brother, Lord Tommy Turner.”

Amy and Eilis padded into the room. Amy had lost a shoe somewhere in the castle, it seemed, and their hair was in disarray.

Lydia glanced at her mother in concern, wondering if the Duchess would frown upon their appearance, but instead, she looked intrigued.

“Mama, this is Amy Lawson and her sister, Eilis Lawson. The Laird’s nieces.”

“How do you do?” her mother said, extending a hand, and both the girls shook it nervously.

Tommy, who had been educated by a tutor who encouraged confidence in young men, stepped forward boldly. He pointed to Raven, who was nestled in the crook of Eilis’s arm.

“Who is that?” he asked.

“Tommy,” the Duchess scolded. “It is not polite to ask questions when you have only just arrived.”

But Eilis and Amy were more at ease in Tommy’s presence, and Eilis held out the kitten to him.

“His name is Raven. We thought he was a girl, but he is a boy, and we have to look after him.”

Tommy stared at the kitten as if it were some terrifying dragon and glanced at Lydia uncertainly.

“It is okay, Tommy, he is very gentle. Eilis, would it be all right for Tommy to hold him?”

Eilis nodded and pushed the kitten against Tommy’s chest.

Her brother’s eyes were shining with excitement as he stroked him, and even Amy began to talk about what the kitten enjoyed, and what they did to take care of him each day.

The skin at the back of Lydia’s neck prickled, and she looked up at the door to find Callum leaning against it, head bowed to keep from brushing against the top of the arch.

His blue eyes looked dark in the shadows of the corridor, and Lydia’s breath hitched as she met his gaze.

She felt her mother’s eyes watching her curiously, and cleared her throat as Callum entered.

Compared to her mother and her brother, he looked even larger than usual, and Lydia couldn’t help remembering how his big body had felt lying on top of her in the library.

I would have lain beneath him all day, safe and warm without a care in the world.

“Duchess,” Callum said, bowing to her mother. He had put on a woolen jacket since Lydia had left him, buttoned neatly, his hair tied back. The little touches of formality surprised her.

Does he wish to impress Mama?

“How was yer journey?” he asked.

“As well as can be expected, M’Laird. Thank you for allowing us to stay in your beautiful castle.”

“I’d be happy to show ye the grounds. It is a good day for walkin’ and the rain has held off for now.”

He extended an arm toward the outer door, and Lydia and her mother walked ahead of him out of the castle.

Lydia glanced back at him. Callum’s hands were held casually behind his back, his eyes glinting with a light that might have been amusement.

Who is this jovial host? Usually, he is so bad-tempered!

They walked out into the gardens, the girls and Tommy running ahead with shrieks of laughter.

Callum made his way around Lydia and her mother, walking ahead of them and keeping an eye on the children.

“So how has it been with your soon-to-be husband?” her mother asked, keeping her voice low.

Lydia’s skin heated at the question, remembering only half an hour before where she had screamed her pleasure beneath him.

“Things have been a little… complicated. But it is not as bad as I had thought it could be.”

Her eyes were drawn to Callum’s muscular legs as he walked ahead of them. There was not an inch of softness on his frame, tight and brawny in every respect.

Lydia swallowed, squeezing her mother’s arm and smiling at Tommy as he held up the kitten for her to see.

“If it is not bad, then it is good ,” her mother said, sounding pleased. “Are you looking forward to the wedding?”

Lydia hesitated. The prospect of a loveless marriage like her parents had endured was not what she had hoped for, but it would be difficult to voice such fears to her mother.

“Yes,” she said finally when the silence had stretched for too long. “Of course.”

“Is there anything you’d like to do for it? Men will organize these things as very cold affairs. Do not be afraid to demand what you want, darling. Don’t make the same mistake I did and let him control everything.”

Lydia looked at Callum walking ahead of them.

Ever since she had first met him, her mind had fixated on an idea. It was a half-formed thought—an image of him in a traditional ballroom, towering over everyone, moving with grace and poise among the dancers.

She had thought it would remain a fantasy, but perhaps all she needed to do was ask.