“Lady Ainsley,” he called. “How do preparations fare?”
“Very well.” She gave him a smile and then began smoothing the tablecloth she had just laid down. Once Keiran’s staff arrived, the tables would be ready to set.
“In that case, do you fancy a break?” Callum approached the group. “Perhaps a ride or even a short walk?”
She didn’t mean to, but her eyes strayed to James before she answered. He was assessing her with a furrowed brow and a frown. “I’m sorry, Lord Blackwood, but I’ve sent Agnes to rest and promised her that I would complete several tasks.”
Callum grimaced but gave her a nod of understanding. “Of course.”
“She does need someone to check on a shipment,” James added, his furrow disappearing, a devilish glint in his eyes.
Callum looked momentarily surprised, but then he gave James a hard look. It made his scar pucker and Ainsley winced, wondering if it pained him. Apparently, it did not because he seemed not to notice as they stared at each other for long moments, tension building between the two men. At another time, Ainsley might have enjoyed it. They were obviously vying for her attention but somehow it brought her little joy. Neither man, for very different reasons, was a suitable candidate. She wasn’t sure when that had started to matter but it did. They were unaware of her thoughts as Callum answered. “How thoughtful of you, Captain. Will you come with me?”
“I’ve changed my mind, Lord Blackwood,” Ainsley stepped up to his side, nervousness filling her belly. It was time to tell him how she felt. Or rather, how she didn’t feel. “I’ve time for a quick walk. Ewan, would you mind chaperoning. I promise it won’t take too much of your time.”
“Of course,” Ewan gave her a small questioning smile as James gave them a dark look and without another word, turned and left.
Ainsley tried not to let that hurt her feelings. She knew he wasn’t interested in her, not really. If he was, he would be acting as Callum had been these last several days.
Linking her arm in Callum’s she let him lead her outside. Ewan stayed several paces behind to give them some semblance of privacy. The wind whipped at her skirts and she made a mental note to get on with her business. It was a cold one. “Lord Blackwood,” she began but he interrupted.
“Callum,” he corrected.
“Callum,” she tried again. “You are handsome, kind, attentive, and charming,” she took a breath as she formulated the next part in her mind.
His muscles, underneath her hand twitched. “But,” he asked. “Words like that always come with a but…”
She may as well spit the words out and get it over with. “I don’t think that I feel the affection for you that would warrant our continued movement toward courtship.”
He paused then, looking at her. “Forgive me for asking but what does affection have to do with it?”
She blinked several times. Did he not feel any affection for her either? “Why else would you be pursuing me?”
His mouth tightened. “You are beautiful, kind, well-connected, and well-heeled.”
“Words like that always come with a but…” She raised her eyebrows and he gave her a small smile. “I nearly forgot intelligent.” His hand reached for hers, warm and safe. “We’d make an excellent match and affection would grow between us in time. I’m of an age where I don’t want to wait anymore and war has ruined romance for me. I don’t want it. I just want a wife and family.”
It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate his honesty. But that wasn’t what she wanted at all. “Try to understand that I am not ready for any of that. That is to say, I should like a husband and a family but only after I’ve found a man that I truly care for. I am in no rush. In fact, I am quite enjoying this part of my life.”
She saw his mouth twist but he nodded in understanding. “It’s freezing out here. Let me take ye back inside.”
In that moment, she almost regretted her words. He’d make a fine husband, warm and caring. Why couldn’t she feel for Callum what she felt for…James.
Chapter Eight
James watched the dancers as they swirled past him. Agnes looked lovely, of course, in her dress she had borrowed from Ainsley. His eye travelled to the little blonde who had been taking up more and more of his thoughts. Ainsley wore the same dress she’d been in the night he’d insulted her in front of everyone. She’d clearly given Agnes her best gown. And while he’d already seen the gown she was wearing, he had to admit, he’d never seen her shine as she was this evening.
She was quieter, not drawing attention to herself. Not that it mattered. In her understated manner, men flocked to her side and each dance was with a different partner.
He’d thought her like his mother, beautiful but vain. Only caring for herself. But the longer he knew her, the more obvious it was that she loved her family and would give up a great deal to make them happy. How could he ever have thought she was like the woman who’d given him away?
Her eyes had found his more than once, but always she looked quickly away.
“You should ask her to dance.” Callum came up next to him, his eyes also following Ainsley.
“Why haven’t you?” James turned to his friend. He hadn’t asked yet, but something had changed. Callum no longer sought out Ainsley’s company.
Callum paused, “She informed me that she didn’t have an affection for me.”
Surprise, and if he were honest, pleasure, made him stand a little straighter. “The peacock told you not to pay attention to her?”
Callum gave him a withering look. “You’d better stop calling her that. You’ll regret it.”
“Why would I regret that?”
“Because she does have an affection for you. And when you finally get yer head out of yer arse, ye don’t want to have ruined yer chances entirely.”
He nearly choked on his protest but Callum gave him a pat on back and walked away again. He might have followed, if only to proclaim that he wouldn’t change his mind. His attention was caught, however, by Ainsley as she made her way toward him on the arm of her latest dance partner. She didn’t look at him. In fact, she appeared to looking everywhere but at him.
A primal urge to push the twit who escorted her straight out the front door made him twitch as they passed.
“Are you sure you can’t spare another dance?” He heard the little fleck of sheep’s dung ask. McDurvey, he thought he’d heard someone call him.
“So kind, but I really need to rest,” Ainsley replied. Though her hand rested in the crook of his elbow, she walked as far away from him as she could.
“I’ll sit with you,” the man tried again.
Ainsley stopped and tugged her hand out from his arm. “If you’ll excuse me, I actually must attend the ladies’ lounge.” And she bolted toward the doors.
He gave the man a sinister smile as he followed. But Ainsley did not go to the lounge. In fact, she headed for the grand staircase and made her way toward the east wing. He followed her easily, as her silk skirts rustled ahead of him. He wasn’t sure why he followed her other than he was drawn to her, whenever she was near. And his jealousy made it near impossible to stay away.
Finally, she reached the end of the hall. He’d never been to this part of the estate, but he’d guess it was where Ewan and Clarissa’s rooms were located.
As if to confirm his thoughts, Ainsley knocked softly on a door and Clarissa called out, “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Ainsley replied and then opened the door.
Quick as he could while remaining silent, he hustled to the door and stuck out his toe to keep it from closing tightly behind her. He tried to ignore the voice that said he was a cad for doing this. It was just that part of him craved her company. And he didn’t dare spend time with her directly. He dropped his guard whenever he did.
“Why aren’t you downstairs?” Clarissa asked.
Ainsley didn’t answer right away and when she did, her voice was soft. “I am just not in the mood tonight.”
&nbs
p; Clarissa gave a small gasp of surprise. “You’re not serious.”
It was even longer before Ainsley answered again. “I don’t know what has happened to me. I used to love those compliments on my dress, my hair. But suddenly, they’ve grown empty. They’re so short-lived, they give so little.” There was a pause. “Hand me Ava, I’ll rock her.”
He heard the rustling of blankets and the soft coo of the baby. “I understand what you mean, though I am proud of you for getting there. There are compliments that truly matter, those are the ones you should seek.”
“Can I ask you something?” Ainsley’s voice was quiet, thoughtful. “How did you know Ewan was the right man for you?”
“It took me a long time. But I think at the end, not only was he the right man for me, but he brought out the best I have inside. Why do you ask? Did you meet someone tonight?”
“No, no, not at all.” Ainsley let out a sigh. “I sometimes wonder if I ever will.”
“You will,” Clarissa let out a yawn. “I don’t think I’ll go back down. This little one has been keeping me up nights.”
“I’ll hold her while you change if ye like.” Ainsley offered.
He heard an interior door open and close and then, without warning, the sweet clear sound of Ainsley singing a lullaby rang in his ears. It was as though his chest had been pierced by a dagger. No one in his entire life had ever sung to him like that. It was ridiculous, he was a grown man, but somehow it mattered that Ainsley loved that baby enough to give her such a beautiful gift.
He slid to the floor, his back against the wall and listened as she sang song after song to little Ava. Closing his eyes, he pictured her, not in her dress, but in a night shift, hair in a simple braid as she sang to a little baby all her own. He swallowed because in his mind, he knew that it was his baby too.
What kind of mother would Ainsley be? Would she love her child absolutely? His hand clutched his shirt.
A child loved its mother without reservation. He remembered the day his father passed, remembered holding his mother’s hand as he looked to her for answers. None had come. Instead, she’d given him the same glance of annoyed resignation she always did.
The singing stopped but he couldn’t get up, didn’t hear the softly spoken words nor did he realize that Ainsley was leaving the room until it was too late.
He heard her gasp as she softly clicked the door closed. In an instant her face was a breath from his. “Are you all right?”
He didn’t mean to do it, but his hands reached out and pulled her into his lap. She hadn’t expected it and she tumbled into his arms. “Fine,” he lied.
“Then what are you doing here?” Her hands had come to his shoulders to steady herself and he couldn’t help it, he buried his face into the silky skin of her neck.
“Listening to you sing.” He voice was muffled as his lips pressed to the soft skin of her collarbone.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed him closer. “What happened to your parents that you were raised by your uncle?” She was doing it again. Looking into his thoughts. Seeing what no else did and putting together the pieces of his past.
“My father died when I was nine.” His hands wrapped around her tighter. He’d never told a soul what he was about to tell her. He thought he’d grown past the hurt a long time ago. “My mother is still alive as far as I know. When she remarried, a year later, she sent me to my father’s half-brother. He hated my father and he hated me, but it was his duty to raise me. I was the only heir to both my father’s inheritance and the English earldom.”
“Your mother sent you away?” He heard the disbelief in her voice, the pain. “That is awful. How could she do such a thing?”
Because I am not worthy of love he thought before he pushed those words back down and avoided the question. Even in this moment, he couldn’t reveal just how deep the wound went. “Can I ask you something?” He lifted his head and tilted it back to look in her eyes. “If something happened to Clarissa and Ewan, where would Ava go?”
She blinked, confusion clouding her vision, but underneath that, he could already see love. “Wherever they choose for her, but Agnes and Keiran would raise her as their own. So would my mother and father, so would I for that matter.”
It made him feel joy to know to see that baby so loved. Babies should have that sort of security. An army of people ready to care for them. It also made him ache too. Because he’d had so little of that.
“Say my name,” he asked. It was wrong but he wanted a little of that love for himself. She was nothing like his mother, and, he knew without asking, that she would never do what his mother had done. No matter what flaws the child had. He’d thought her like his mother but he’d been wrong. His mother had always cared only for herself. The longer he knew Ainsley the more he was certain she’d do anything for her family. His heart had known that all along, but his head had taken a while to understand.
“No,” she answered, biting her lip.
“Please,” he tried again.
She shook her head. “It muddles things too much.” But she did drop her forehead to his, using her hands to hold his face in her grasp. “But anytime you wish to talk, I will listen.”
He blinked up at her. Bloody hell. The offer took his breath away. Without meaning to, he tilted his chin to take her lips with his own. So soft and sweet they made him ache. She clung to him as he kissed her over and over, her breath quickening until she ripped her mouth away from his.
“Stop,” she rasped.
“Why, love?” He nestled her closer, if that was even possible as he tried to capture her lips again. She was likely right. He was weak and he knew she’d fill some small section of the hole within his heart.
“I’m not your love. You don’t even like me.” She pushed off his chest. “I can be your friend. But I can’t do this. I can’t have your attention in these moments and then be ignored. I am, after all, a peacock.”
He was most certainly going to hell for that comment. “I do like you, you’re wrong. You are not demanding nor are you a peacock. I’ve kept my distance because you are a strong woman who is smart enough to see through a cad like me.”
There was no use holding back now. He’d done too much to push her away. And somehow, tonight, he’d realized that she was the woman who would give love, not take it from him.
“James,” she blushed as she used his name and the fire that was burning inside him from their kiss blazed into an inferno. “Don’t say such things.”
“Love,” he rasped. In this moment, he was hers to command. In general, he was hers to command. “I can’t help it. We’re too close. Besides, I don’t want to. Now that I’ve started to tell you how I feel, I don’t want to stop.”
“We already went over this. I’m not your love. Your words are pretty now, but in the morning you’ll go back to being mean to me by either insulting me or ignoring me.” She tried to stand but he held her firm. She had every right to think that. He had been treating her that way. It was a defense on his part to keep from being hurt.
“I won’t. I promise. I’ve never told another person about my mother and now that it’s done, we can’t go back to being what we were. Besides, I wouldn’t want to. I told you about her and no one else because I care about you. I trust you with my feelings.” He reached for one of her hands then and laced her fingers in his own. “I am trying to figure out why you have stripped me defenseless when no one else has ever been able.”
She blinked several times, a blush rising in her cheeks, a smile gracing her lips before she pressed them to his in a quick kiss. “I think it makes you look much more handsome that you shared with me. I like your honestly much better than your swagger.” Then her blush deepened.
“It doesn’t make me look weak?” he asked taking advantage of her pleasure to kiss her again. He understood, he liked the real Ainsley far more than her practiced façade.
“No, not weak.” She shook her head. “And you’ve changed me too. I am no lo
nger content with empty compliments. That’s why I came up here. It seemed so pointless, the dancing and the flirting.”
“I think the flirting would be fun. With the right man.” Instead of kissing her lips, this time he laid a feather-light kiss on her neck.
She shivered under the touch. “James,” she gasped.
“I know I wanted you to say my name, but if you repeat it like that again, you’ll find yourself in my bed.” Now that he knew what she meant to him, he’d have an even harder time holding back.
“Oh…I…” she sat back blinking. He gently brought her body back against his.
“If that happens, we’d have to marry and then you’d be stuck with me for the rest of your life.” It was occurring to him that he would be fine with that but he wasn’t yet sure it was what she wanted. And this could only work if she wished to be his as much as he wanted to be hers.
Her mouth opened but no words came out. Holding her firmly against him, he stood and then gently set her down on the floor. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She finally managed to speak.
“It is for you, my love.” Then he dipped his head and kissed her again. Slowly letting her go, he reached for her hand one last time and brought it to his lips. He didn’t want to leave her now. He wasn’t sure he wanted to leave her ever. But they couldn’t go back to the party together because then there would no longer be a choice.
Ainsley watched him walk away blinking in confusion. What had just happened?
The conversation was the most heated and confounding she’d ever had. Well, the heated of course. No one made her blood boil the way he did. But it was like he was a different man in these private conversations. Vulnerable, hurt. And his thoughts weren’t always connected, as though there was more he wasn’t telling her.
“Ainsley,” Clarissa whispered as she cracked open the door. “Are you all right?”
Ainsley shook her head. “I am not sure.”
Clarissa poked her head out of her room. “That was…”
My Laird's Seduction_Scottish Historical Romance Page 6