by Kara Griffin
Gussy set a hand on her arm and patted her. “Desire, that’s what you lacked. But he was a good man, and you deserved to be his wife. Lord Charles would’ve had it no other way.”
She nodded and forced herself to pull away from the window. When she found herself without means after her parent’s deaths, and unable to take over the farming of the land her father leased from Charles, he saved her. She’d never expected Charles to be kind, but he professed to care for her, and being in an impoverished position, forced her to accept him. Violet did her best to be a good wife, but alas, she’d never given him her heart. She’d wanted to love him and tried to, yet he never stirred within her the feelings she sought. Although she’d been wed to Charles for almost five years, she’d been content. She would find contentment again, but she doubted she had it within her to love.
“I have liked living in Charles’s manor, and as a girl dreamed to live in the lord’s home. How was I fortunate to win Charles’s favor? And now his lovely home will be given to another. The king will bestow it upon his favored lord, most likely Sir Nicholas. The thought of him there sickens me.”
Gussy frowned. “We shall not see it, and you shouldn’t think of such distressing matters. You’ll make yourself ill to consider him in your husband’s home.”
She smiled to ease her friend’s worry. “I’m glad you came with me, Gussy. What would I do without you?” Violet linked her arm with Gussy’s and shuffled closer to get warm.
“You’re being courageous, My Lady.”
“Courageous? I’m shaking on the inside. I’m to travel to an unknown place to stay with unknown people. What if the lord is not attracted to me? What if the lord doesn’t agree—?”
“Lord Henry assured you, you would be welcome regardless.”
“Yes and from what he said, I gathered this man—”
“Callum Sinclair,” Gussy interjected.
“Yes, the man named Callum owes Henry his favor. Let us hope it is enough to allow me to stay, and that I shan’t have to stay long. Maybe I won’t have to entice him and my worries are for naught.”
“You’ll do what you must. You will be settled once again.” Her maid folded her hands and placed them in her lap as the carriage jolted forward. “Where you go, My Lady, so shall I.”
“You’re a true friend, which is why I want you to call me Violet. There will be no formality between us, especially where we’re going.”
“If you wish, My Lady.”
Violet laughed because she suspected her friend’s jest. “I doubt the Sinclairs are formal, after all, they reside in the Highlands of Scotland. A more barbaric place could not be had.”
“Is it true the men wear gowns there?” Gussy snickered.
She grinned. “Not gowns, but tartans that come to their knees. And before you swoon at the idea of seeing a man’s knees—”
“Oh golly, Violet, his naked knees? I shall be mortified.”
Violet snickered with laughter, and her eyes watered. “Remember knees are not the most attractive part of a man.”
“Indeed not. I can name at least five parts I’d rather see naked than his knees. Shall I name them for you, so you can be sure to view them when you meet Sinclair?”
She wiped away a laughter tear. “Oh, Gussy, you bring me such mirth. But shush and speak not of that.”
“Oh, yes, your delicate ears. You’d think you’d never bedded Charles? Didn’t you ever see him naked? He was fit and must’ve appeared handsome.”
Violet lowered her gaze and her cheeks brightened. “Once or twice, he was modest around me. I wish I had cared for him as a wife should.” She hadn’t shared Charles’s bedchamber and he was rarely home. The times she’d joined him at night, she could count on one hand. Although her husband tried to make their time together pleasurable, Violet felt exposed and unaffected. Was she unloving? God, she hoped not. She needed love and wanted to return it. If only she found a man who ignited such passion within her.
Gussy took pity on her and changed the subject. “How long will it take us to get there? I tire of this journey.”
“Oh, look, there’s a wall.” Violet gripped the window ledge and gazed at the stone tower which appeared to perch on the edge of the sea. High above, a flock of large white birds with black-tipped wings soared in the hefty breeze. The scent of fish and the sea permeated. Their carriage approached the wall and the gatehouse connected to the expanse of wooden beams. The height of the wall protected the fortification from the elements, but also from intruders and attacks. A drawbridge over a deep ravine afforded them entrance beneath the gatehouse and to the bailey.
Rows of cottages situated between the outer and inner walls. People walked along well-worn paths, and some gathered in the courtyard. They seemed interested in her arrival and stared. Violet couldn’t hear their words, but she suspected they wondered who she was.
The carriage stopped and a man approached. Violet gawked at the large man. His unruly red hair scurried by the hale wind, and his dark eyes peered with attentiveness.
He didn’t smile but frowned. “Who do I welcome to our keep?”
“I’m Lady Violet Danvers, Lord Henry’s friend. Henry Bolingbroke sent a missive to Callum Sinclair to inform him of my arrival.”
“We received his missive, but he said nothing about whom to expect, only a friend. We hadn’t expected a woman.” The man hooted and laughed until her scowl forced him to hide his amusement.
“I am Henry’s friend.”
“Welcome then, Milady. I say, my cousin will be surprised at your arrival.”
Violet waited for Gussy, and when she stood next to her, she bowed to the man. “My Lord, this is my maid and good friend, Gussy, who will attend me.”
“Please, Milady, I’m just Clive. Call me such, and welcome, Gussy. Come inside, and get out of the cold. A storm is coming.”
Before she reached the massive door of the tower keep, rain fell heavily and swathed the land in sheets. Violet was glad they arrived when they had. Rain soaked her cloak and chilled her. She was about to make a run for it, but Gussy turned back.
“I’ll have our satchels brought in, My Lady, and will meet you inside.” She returned to the carriage and spoke to the coachman.
Violet nodded and stepped inside the massive stoned building. The entry led into a large room with a massive hearth flanked by a black iron gate, beside which sat a lone chair. A crackling fire sent warmth through the chamber. She removed her gloves and approached to stand near. With her hands held out, she warmed her fingers.
“Wait here and I’ll tell Callum you have arrived.”
The inside of the castle was stark with wooden beams and walls. High above coats of arms and pennons decorated the beams. Two large windows set one side of the hall and showed the only light within. Candles situated about the hall, and an impressive iron candleholder hung from the ceiling but remained unlit. A fabric runner lay on the length of the massive table and a bunch of flowers sat in the center. For all the noise and busyness of the bailey, the hall was the complete opposite.
Until a scream pierced the air and a woman’s voice came, “Come back here, you wee hellion. You’ll have a bath this eve, whether you want to or not.”
A young girl with a thick mane of wavy reddish hair ran into the chamber and hid under the table. She jarred the bench, and it almost toppled over until it righted itself.
The woman entered and stopped on her heels when she spotted her. “Oh, I wasn’t aware we had company. Does anyone know you’re here?”
“Yes, the man, Clive, is getting Callum.”
The woman pressed the long tresses of her black hair behind her shoulders and sighed. Her dark eyes scrutinized her until she turned back to peer about the chamber. “Did you see a lass come in here?”
“No, I have seen no one.”
Without another word, the woman left.
Violet approached the table and bent to whisper to the girl, “She’s gone.”
The girl crawled from
beneath the table and fled from the chamber without a word to her.
Violet approached Gussy when she entered. “Thank you for retrieving our things. Oh, you’re soaked through and must change your garments at once.” She retrieved the missive and container Henry had asked her to give to Sinclair upon her arrival. With them in hand, she waited for someone to come.
Clive returned a minute later and stood at the entry. “Come, Milady, I’ll show you to his chamber.”
She followed and took the stairs to the upper floor. He stopped at a chamber and motioned her inside. Violet opened the door and stepped through the threshold, but she didn’t see anyone within. The keep was lavish and the chamber as adorned. A large wooden desk sat by the window, flanked by a high-backed chair. A smaller hearth situated across from the desk and its embers were aglow. Adjacent to the chamber, a door led to a sleeping quarter.
She ambled forward and gasped when a man startled her. His leg and thigh were bared, and he appeared to massage his muscles. The man’s brows furrowed as if he was in pain. Rule number one, use the body. Violet leaned against the door’s threshold and pulled her shoulders back. She waited for him to notice her.
She roved her eyes over his naked skin and stepped back when he startled at her appearance. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to intrude…”
“Who are you?” his voice was deep with a hearty lilt to it, and he sounded affronted.
“I’m Henry’s friend, Violet Danvers.”
“You can’t be. Henry’s friend is a man.”
“I am his friend, and I assure you, I’m not a man. Surely you received his missive which foretold of my arrival? You are Callum Sinclair, are you not?”
He nodded but remained silent.
Violet couldn’t take her gaze from his naked, muscular thigh. He pushed the fabric of his tartan over his leg and straightened. She took her time to assess him and the enticement rules were all but forgotten. Callum stood tall and perhaps over six feet in height, and his brawny muscles tightened the front and arms of his tunic. It was his handsome face that captivated her and caused her breath to still. He had light brown hair, almost chestnut in color, and even darker eyes and brows. The man wore no whiskers about his face, but his jaw tightened as she perused him.
Callum cleared his throat and stepped forward. “I could’ve sworn Henry mentioned his friend was a man.”
“Perhaps he misled you. He asked me to give you this missive and container.” She approached and held out the items. Rule two was easy to do since she didn’t take her eyes from his, and with confidence from somewhere deep within her, she peered at him with interest. “It might aid your pain for he said you were injured.”
He reached for the items and brushed his fingers against hers as he grasped the missive. Violet took in a startled breath. His touch evoked excitement or something similar. She couldn’t place the sentiment as she’d never experienced it before. With a jerk, she retracted her hand. If she decided to go ahead with her maddened plan, rule four would positively be pleasing.
His gaze lingered as if he disbelieved she was there. The man set the items on the desk in a hostile manner and glared at her.
She knew well enough where she wasn’t wanted. “I shall hurry to stop the coachman from leaving. Hopefully, he’s still in the courtyard. I’ll be gone since it is obvious you will not offer sanctuary.” Before he retorted, Violet fled the chamber.
She needed to escape his pierced gaze and aggressive mood. As much as she detested to admit it, rule five wasn’t within her. Violet had no confidence whatsoever. Never had a man looked at her with such hostility. She didn’t know what to make of him, or what he intended with such a look. But it was her reaction to him that troubled her more. Why had she gaped at him as though he was a statue? She couldn’t reason her reaction or behavior.
Violet rushed through the hallway and reached the bottom of the stairs when she heard someone call out. Ionnsaigh.
A dog growled and ran at her. It jumped up, knocked her back and to the floor. The dog’s mouth gripped her leg, and he shook his head and flailed her. Her gown tore with his sharp teeth dug in. Violet cried out and shouted for help. The dog ravaged her and wouldn’t let go. She tried to free herself from his hold by kicking out, but he wouldn’t cease his attack. The beast locked his jaw and wouldn’t let go, and the pain on her leg caused her to gasp for breath.
“Frang! Cease. Go, be gone.”
The dog released her at the man’s command, and he whined and fled when the man approached with heavy steps.
Callum knelt next to her. “Don’t move. Are you injured?”
Violet’s voice rasped from her fright. “I…I’m uncertain.” She tugged the material of her gown to reveal her leg and winced at the bloody marks from the dog’s teeth.
Callum lifted her in his arms. “We need to get the healer to look at you.”
She tensed in his arms, but couldn’t resist taking a whiff of his manly scent. He smelled of outdoors, pine, and as if he’d spent the day ensconced in the woods. His face was close to hers, and all she focused on was the way his strong arms held her. Violet wrapped her arm around his neck when he jostled her. He strolled to the adjacent room next to the entry. The man limped slightly, and his movement inhibited.
“Lady Danvers, are you all right? You are shaking.”
She shook herself from her reverie. “Why would I be shaking?”
Callum grinned. “Perhaps because you were just attacked by a large hound. Let’s make sure you’re not injured, lass.”
Violet stared at the way his lips moved when he spoke. His mouth fascinated her, with his full lips that surely would make a lady swoon if he kissed her. He reached the hall and crossed it quickly even though it must’ve pained him to do so.
Gussy screeched when she noticed him carrying her. “What happened to my lady?”
He set her on the comfortable chair near the hearth. Once she was settled, he knelt next to her and pressed her skirts above her knee. She almost giggled at the way he took hold of her naked calf. But when he continued to press her skin with his warm fingers, she lost her breath. His touch sent a pleasurable chill through her and she remained still.
Callum raised his eyes and held her gaze. “It doesn’t appear Frang damaged you too badly, but we should get the healer to make certain. Are you in pain?”
She shook her head but wanted to tell him she was injured if only he might continue to touch her. Violet sat back, content that he persisted to hold her leg. When his hand brushed along her skin, heat rose within her and her cheeks burned. His nearness brought forth a shyness she hadn’t ever possessed. But she had to remember to be confident. He was more than handsome, but it was the way he touched her that riddled her senseless. No man had ever struck her with such longing.
If she wasn’t mistaken, she might liken the sentiment to desire. She desired Callum Sinclair, and that thought settled the matter. Until she kissed him though, she wouldn’t know if it was true passion that brought fervor to her. She would do whatever it took to seduce him, even if she only got to experience it once. After all, she was entitled to take a lover once in her life, and glory be, he’d be worth the risk. Violet would be content with one night spent in his muscular arms.
Chapter Five
Callum had never been as captivated by a woman. His reaction wasn’t acceptable, but he was more than enamored. When he found her watching him in his chamber, he responded to her gaze. How was he supposed to act when a beautiful woman stood at his door and gawked? Her gaze wasn’t loathsome, but more of a summation, as if she grazed every inch of his body with her bonny blue eyes. Damned if his body didn’t respond to her perusal. He nearly lost his breath as he took her in. She was bonny, even more so, and loveliness stood before him. He couldn’t find his voice to offer a welcome, hell, or even to offer her a seat.
He too couldn’t turn away from the captivation of his view of her. Lady Violet had glorious hair that swept over her shoulders in a mass of dark br
own waves. It wasn’t lackluster but appeared soft and wavy. He imagined what it felt like, probably as supple as a silken lamb’s. Her dark blue eyes reminded him of a stormy summer afternoon sky when the rain ceased and the heavens cleared. She appealed in her face with full soft-supple lips and high cheeks. Her body curvature alluded to the shapely curves beneath her gown. She stood as tall as he, perhaps a few inches shy. What troubled him was his undeniable attraction to her.
When he found her being attacked by Frang, he had to rescue her. He was astounded Frang would harm her, and he hoped she wasn’t injured too badly. He expected to find her in tears, in hysterics, or his cousin offering sympathy as Clive usually did when a woman had a run-in with him. Yet she smiled serenely and didn’t appear disgruntled by his inexcusable, inhospitable welcome, or at Frang’s attack.
Clive returned with the healer and Callum stepped back to allow her inspection of Lady Violet’s wounds.
His cousin waved him away from the woman. “What happened? How was Milady attacked?”
Callum followed Clive to the window where they wouldn’t be overheard. “Frang got loose. He’s usually behaved. I don’t understand what caused him to attack Lady Violet.”
The healer finished her ministrations and bowed to him as she made to leave. She gave him an unaccountable gaze before she disappeared beyond the doorway.
Clive chuckled. “I told you the clan believes you’re dead. You really need to show yourself soon before they start crossing themselves in your presence.”
“Let’s not discuss it now. I should see to Lady Violet.” He intended to dismiss Clive, but his cousin pulled him back with a grip of his tunic.
“Aye? At least she drew you from your chamber.”
Callum shoved his chest. “Don’t make more of this than it is. And do you not have duties to attend? Or should I make a list for you?”
Clive bellowed a laugh. “Hmm, is that you acting like a laird?”
He wanted to reprimand his cousin, but Clive left before he might rebuff his claim. Callum approached the woman and had to remedy his earlier behavior. He’d acted boorish toward her and he should have received her with a better reception.