Callum’s Vow: The Victorian Highlanders

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Callum’s Vow: The Victorian Highlanders Page 3

by St. Clair, Ellie


  “It’s remarkable,” Martha murmured, “that your father managed to leave it all to you. Your mother must have been livid.”

  Victoria snorted. That was certainly an understatement. “Of course she was. There was, however, nothing she could do. At least, when she was alive, things were easier.”

  “I’m sorry,” Martha’s face fell. “She was still your mother. I should not have insulted her so.”

  “The truth is the truth,” Victoria said stoically. “The worst of it was that she died running off with a lover. Not that she bothered to tell me of her plans. There was nowhere I could go. I had no way to support myself. After she left, all I was to Edward was a reminder of what she had done to him, and a bank account that he could not access. Until the Duke of Lansing arrived.”

  She shuddered involuntarily, and Martha returned to herself, seemingly deciding that they had finished with such a conversation.

  “What is a wonder to me is that you have been out in society for a couple of years now and have not yet married! The gentlemen must have been pushing one another out of the way to get to you, what with your looks and your— well…”

  Victoria took pity on the woman.

  “My fortune? Yes. That was part of the problem. I could never quite determine who was interested in me and who was in search of wealth. Inevitably it seemed to be the latter.”

  “You didn’t form an interest in any of them?” Martha looked crestfallen, as though it would have been much more interesting to hear romantic tales from Victoria.

  “Well, there were quite a few hungry suitors that were difficult to shake,” Victoria said, a smile growing on her lips as she did, “but I managed to fend them off. When one began showing interest…” she shrugged, “I would become so ill-mannered that even the most desperate of men and families were repelled, no matter the size of my dowry.”

  Martha’s eyes had grown wide at the tale, and Victoria noticed the quick look she exchanged with her husband.

  “My goodness,” she murmured, before seemingly recovering. “You know what would be best? If we leave that behind us and look forward to your future. Imagine it, Victoria. The Americas, the new world! It’s beautiful there. We’re going to see our grandchildren, so just a visit for a few months and then we will be headed back across the sea. But for you, ’tis your new life! The adventure is just beginning. You will not believe how different it is there…”

  Martha continued to chatter and move about the small room as Harry was content to nod his head, agreeing with his wife as she did all the talking. Victoria tried not to let her eyes close, but she was tired. It had been an exhausting couple of days in anticipation of her escape and besides the nap on the train, she hadn’t managed much sleep at all in days.

  “Oh, my dear, you must be exhausted. Why don’t you go get settled and lie down for a bit before dinner?” Martha pulled more than helped Victoria up from the bed and ushered her out the door. “We will fetch you in just a couple of hours. I hope you brought lots of dresses as they’re usually fairly formal affairs. But you will be beautiful in anything. Those eyes! I remember them from when you were a child even after all these years. Never in my life have I seen a shade like them, except maybe in a flower. You’ll be happy about the food. You would not think on a ship it would last long, but somehow the meals are still wonderful days into a journey. See you soon, my dear!”

  And with that, she shut the door. Victoria blinked a few times as she fumbled in her pocket for her key and let herself into her room. She welcomed the silence and the stillness of the room after Martha’s friendly yet aggressive onslaught. This cabin was nearly identical to that of the Gambles, but with a narrower bed and less space. There was a small porthole that looked out onto the blue of the sky above and the water below.

  While the room was tiny, it was comfortable, and she was grateful to Aunt Sarah and the extra five pounds. She would return the money as soon as she was able.

  Victoria flopped onto the bed, sinking down onto its surprisingly comfortable folds. She felt a sudden lurch and realized it was the ship pulling away from the dock. She smiled. Freedom, she thought, as she closed her eyes and instantly fell asleep.

  4

  Callum couldn’t sleep. Jack was snoring above him, and the wails of distressed children crying filtered from across the large steerage hold. There was too much on his mind, which was racing as he thought about what he might find on the other side of this gaping wide ocean.

  He hoped he would find his cousin.

  It had been a year since he had seen Gregor, who had left their struggling clan for the promise made by agents from the Americas who had traveled the Highlands, ensuring that plenty of land, jobs, and opportunities could be found across the seas if one took the chance. Callum had doubted the verity of their attractive posters, spirited lectures, and colorful pamphlets describing paradise, but many of his friends had taken a leap of faith and sailed west.

  Callum had been shocked when Gregor had joined them.

  “There’s not much chance for me here,” he had said. “What are my options? To become a priest? Ha. And while I like helping the clan, Callum, ye have enough brothers for that already. I need something better.”

  And so he went, across the water. Callum hadn’t been able to shake an ill feeling about Gregor’s plans. He didn’t know why, but something hadn’t felt quite right. He tried to share his thoughts with Gregor, but his cousin just laughed them off in his usual way and did what he wanted.

  The last Callum had seen of his cousin was his back. As he had watched Gregor ride away down the valley, he wanted to call out to him to come back, but he restrained himself. They were both adults now and could each do as they pleased.

  He only hoped he would have the opportunity to see him again.

  The ship rocked, and Callum grunted as he shifted on the thin mattress, attempting to find comfort. He loved the outdoors, though he wasn’t too sure about life at sea. His land had always called to him, but he was coming to realize that maybe it was land in general that held the appeal.

  It was going to be a long journey. Dinner had been a sorry affair of bread and tea, leaving his stomach growling for more. He assumed this was going to become his constant state of being. The people in steerage, however, were friendly. Jack was starting to grow on him, and if Jack was caught early in the day before he emptied his flask, he was actually fairly entertaining. There were many families on board, and Callum felt for the mothers trying to keep their children in line in this contained space. Soon they would have lots of room to run, if they could hold on for a few more days.

  Callum had brought out his cards that evening and had some spirited games of Pharo with his shipmates as the non-players placed bets on them. Callum had been fairly successful in the game of chance. He and his brothers, with Gregor, had spent many evenings around the fire in their great hall playing the game, and it brought a sense of home to the steerage hold.

  He could tell that he had had a few admirers that evening, drawn by his good-natured smile and charm, and probably his strong brow and dark looks. The young ladies, for the most part, had snuck away from their mothers and fathers to make his acquaintance. A few wives, too, he noted. He was kind with them all, but gave them no more than a smile. He had other things on his mind.

  Things that would require all of his attention when they arrived.

  It was now the middle of the night, and Callum was still wide awake. The noises disrupted his already churning mind, and he realized there was no point in lying here in frustration any longer.

  He swung his legs off the bunk, placing his feet within his boots. He picked his way over the people and possessions littering the floor and made his way to the stairs. His broad shoulders barely fit in the tight staircase as he ascended to the deck.

  When he emerged at the top, the darkness was replaced by the moon, which was shining brilliantly tonight, lighting the path ahead of him. The tension rolled off his shoulders as he followed the rail
, pausing near the stern to feel the power of the iron beast beneath his feet. It amazed him, the modern machines that opened the many possibilities of exploration to so many people. He closed his eyes as the salty breeze misted his face, the sound of the waves against the ship filled his ears, and the coolness of the air surrounded him, until finally a sense of peace washed over him like an early morning tide upon the shore.

  * * *

  Victoria woke up with a start. It was dark in her room, with the faint light of the moon pouring through the porthole, leaving a path of light upon the floor. A quick peek out the window showed nothing but the sea, and she realized how late it must be. Martha and Harry must have let her sleep right through supper. Someone, Martha she assumed, had left bread, butter, and tea on the stand beside her bed. She lit the candle sitting next to the fare and splashed water from the small basin in the corner upon her face to wash off some of the remaining weariness of travel.

  Victoria began settling herself in the room, taking the essentials out of her bag and organizing herself to feel as comfortable as she could. The stack of unread books she placed in the corner gave her a little thrill of anticipation. She sat back down on the bed, trying to get comfortable, and pulled out The Prince and the Pauper to lose herself in the tale of the identical men from two different worlds.

  After less than a page, she lowered the book, unable to focus on the printed words. Strange, for her. She typically practically lived through the characters of her stories. Her love of the written word had gone back to her childhood with her father. The two of them had spent hours together in his massive library, where they shared their love of knowledge and history in the shelves full of multi-colored book spines and on the comfortable, well-worn sofas that lined the room.

  Victoria’s first memories were of pictures and letters jumping off the page. She had many childhood friends nearby, but no siblings as a child. She instead grew up with the Swiss Family Robinson, Alice in Wonderland and Princess Irene. When she was older, she became fascinated by Cosette, yearned for the adventure of Jules Verne’s Voyage to the Center of the Earth, and related to the search for love and happiness with Emma — her favorite of all of the Jane Austen novels, despite the popularity of Elizabeth Bennett in Pride and Prejudice.

  But tonight she was restless. She knew it was folly to consider anything but remaining where she was, but a yearning to explore began to overcome all reason.

  She had read about ships, but had never actually been a passenger and felt that as she was now living her own adventure, she truly had to make the most of it. No one had said she had to stay in her cabin — though the understanding was unspoken — however, most people would be asleep at this time, would they not? A quick peek of the night sky without the veil of London’s hazy skies wouldn’t hurt anything, she convinced herself, as the visions of it from the country long ago made themselves known.

  Still dressed in her simple day gown, Victoria let herself out into the hall, trying to be quiet so as not to disturb Martha and Harry next door. Martha seemed slightly overprotective and would certainly not approve of Victoria wandering the ship alone.

  Victoria tiptoed down the corridor until she came to the winding narrow staircase, and she ascended the one level to the deck.

  The air was crisp and cool on this June night on the open sea, but it was refreshing. So different from the foggy London air with its smells of every kind, none of them very pleasant. She tightened her dressing gown and breathed in deeply, as she felt her heart soar and her shoulders relax.

  Victoria tilted her head to study the blanket of stars overhead. The constellations her father had taught her about, which were so visible in the country, yet often hidden by London streetlamps, were clear in the naked sky tonight. She tried to find her favorite, Orion, but June was too late in the year for it to be truly visible. She kept a hand on the railing as she walked around the deck, gazing at the mysteries above. How long had people been looking at these very same stars? How different would they look with an ocean between them? How—

  “Oomph!” She ran into a wall. She almost bounced right off, but the wall stretched out an arm and caught her, drawing her in.

  “Steady, lass,” it — he drawled in a thick, Scottish brogue. “Ye best watch where you’re walking. You never know who might be out here this time of night.”

  Victoria’s heart hammered against her rib cage. She could pretend it was fear, but something told her otherwise. She had thrown her hands out in front of her for balance, and now they were sitting atop hard muscles. Her fingers were resting in the very place where his top abdominal cut into his powerful pec muscles. Usually being this close to a man gave her the desire to pull back with a cold comment, but this time a tingle of an unfamiliar sensation began in her belly before running through the rest of her.

  She looked up and a strong, square jaw filled her visage. His dark hair, which would typically likely fall to the nape of his neck, fanned out behind him with the breeze that wafted over them. It made her want to run her fingers through it, to see if it felt as silky as it looked. His dark blue eyes were intent upon hers, and he slowly tilted his head down toward her, almost like he was going to…

  Victoria willed herself to stop her line of thinking. This was a stranger on a ship — she should push away. She wasn’t in the proper state of mind, and certainly not in the proper state of dress. She had removed her corsets and much of her undergarments to sleep comfortably. The heat of his hands burned through the thin layers of her dress and chemise.

  Yet she remained a moment, standing there with appreciation for the strength of the arms that held her close and the heady, musky scent that invaded her senses.

  “I…” She shook her head, finally coming back to herself and took a step back away from him. She was angry at her own loss of sense simply from being held close by a man. “I’m fine. Thank you. I don’t know where you came from… Did you not see me coming? I’m sorry… really, you shouldn’t touch a lady like that, not — it’s just not proper… what I mean to say is…” Victoria’s stream of words, coming out in a fit of nerves, seemed to jerk him back to his senses as well.

  “Aye, that’s right. You’re a lady and ’tis not fitting for ye to be talking to the likes of me. Besides, looks like you are… occupied. I’ll be on my way.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant,” she said, stepping back away from him as though he had slapped her — which it almost seemed as though he had, so surprisingly harsh were the words that had emerged from him. Oh, why could she not be more coherent? “What I was saying—”

  “It’s all right, I understand,” he said his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, and Victoria wished she could reverse through time long enough to revise her first words to him. “Do not worry, lass. I won’t tell any of our encounter. It was an accident, that’s all. Although I would suggest that parading around with your gown half-open on the deck of a ship filled with all manner of people really isn’t the most intelligent thing a lady of your status should be doing.” He nodded at her in a sarcastic type of bow.

  Victoria gasped and looked down at herself, realizing belatedly that she had been remiss in redoing some of the buttons of her dress after her long nap.

  “Oh, dear. I wasn’t— that is, I really just—”

  He ignored her attempt to clarify, cutting off her words as he swooped down into a deep, mocking bow, then twisted on the heel of a scuffed boot and returned the way from which he’d come. She was left standing alone on the deck, thoughts running through her mind that she was unable to put into words.

  She fisted and unfisted her hands at her sides as she trembled in response to the entire encounter.

  After she was over her initial shock, Victoria started steaming. Of all the nerve. So they ran into one another. He had certainly made a few major assumptions within about ten seconds of meeting her. Not that she would call that a meeting. More of a clash.

  She hated that this always happened to her — thoughts and emotio
ns clamoring within her mind, that she couldn’t find a way to put into words when she needed to. If she had a pen and paper, she would write him a scathing letter. But face-to-face she struggled.

  He thought she was a lady. She only called herself a lady in regards to her values, but he had jumped to his conclusions rather quickly. Couldn’t he see she was struggling to speak to him, had been entirely at a loss for words?

  The more she thought about it, the angrier Victoria became. She knew she should let this go. That would be the sensible, reasonable course of action, would it not?

  But Victoria had never been particularly sensible or reasonable. As she stalked back to her cabin, she took solace in deciding just what it was she would say if she were to encounter him once more. In fact, come the morning, she resolved to make every attempt to find him, when she would tell him exactly what she thought. She was not going to find him because she was interested in seeing him again, of course. No. It was only to set him straight, to make him realize that she was not the woman he assumed her to be. Victoria was so caught up in her thoughts that when she entered her cabin, she slammed the door behind her, forgetting that the coarse man would not be the one receiving the full effect of her efforts.

  * * *

  Her eyes were the most amazing shade of violet he had ever seen.

  Callum couldn’t get them — or her — out of his head. When she had looked up at him, her face just inches from his, his heart had stopped and his arms had frozen around her, while his blood had pumped quicker and heat simmered between them — at least, so he had thought.

  Her eyes had pierced into his before he hadn’t been able to help his gaze dropping lower to her full lips.

  Callum could tell she’d felt something, whether it be shock or attraction or simply awareness, he wasn’t sure. Then she came to her senses and realized who she was, who he might be, and what she was doing. He hadn’t meant to have been so harsh with her, but the strength and immediacy of the attraction had taken him by surprise.

 

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