by Kara Griffin
“Lady Violet, you are welcome to stay until I can reach Henry and find out what he means by sending you here. I’m sure you’d rather stay elsewhere.”
“I shall ready our chamber,” the maid said, “if you’ll direct me?”
Callum nodded. “Take the chamber above, the third door on the right. It’s empty.”
Left alone, he paced before Violet and discerned what to say. It wasn’t like him to be affected to a mute state by a woman, but she was too bonny, and he was too enthralled to make sensible conversation.
“I don’t want to trouble you. If you wish me to leave, I will.”
“Why did Henry send you here? He mentioned trouble with your king. Were you treasonous?” Once that question was asked, he couldn’t take it back. He was being forward to ask such a question, but if she was involved in unscrupulous activity toward her king, he wouldn’t be as trusting of her. And he definitely wouldn’t allow her to stay at his fortification.
“No, not treasonous, but the king is wrath with me. I wish not to discuss it. I have a need of a place to stay and once Henry replies, I shall leave.” She stood and readied to make off, affronted by his bold questions.
He grabbed her hand to keep her from fleeing. She crashed into him and he steadied her with his hands on her hips. The moment grew tumultuous as neither spoke. She wasn’t angry with him given the shine to her eyes and the smile on her lips.
He again acted as a lout and thought to remedy it. “I’m sorry, I don’t wish you to leave, but things are unsettled here. It is not the best time to entertain or welcome guests. You may stay until I contact Henry.”
She pressed her dainty hands against his chest and sent a fevered rush through him. Violet leaned forward and set her mouth on his. Callum should have pushed her back and withdrew, but her soft lips beckoned his. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, ravage more like. Something within him snapped and desire taunted him to take more. Lord, she knew how to kiss. Passion struck him senseless and hit him like a hard knock to his head. He groaned and hastily pulled away.
“Why did you kiss me?”
She rasped and trailed her hands down his chest. The simple touch affected him to an unnerved state. Callum closed his eyes against the rush and took a breath to gain control. When he opened his eyes, he found her staring. Her lips parted slightly and glistened with their kiss. Damnation, he needed to cease acting as unsteady as an untried lad, but he sure as hell wanted to kiss her again.
“I don’t know why I kissed you, but I shan’t take it back.” her voice rasped, yet it was pleasant.
He had to make his objection. “While you’re here, Lady Violet, you should keep your distance.” Callum tensed when her bonny lips formed a smile and a gleam shone in her eyes. Her manner came across as if she teased him, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.
“Or what, Callum?”
He frowned and shook his head. Or what? Hell, he’d probably toss her over his shoulder and carry her off to his bed and have his way with her. Did she dare to mock him with her retort? “You will call me Laird Sinclair, Lady Violet. You are a guest here, nothing more, and you will be treated as such. Before you go, I will tell you… My clan detests the Sassenach, ah, the English. They won’t take it well that you are here. You may become dismayed if they are unkind. I suggest you stay inside the castle and not venture out for your own safety.”
Callum didn’t know why he told her that. He loathed to admit that he didn’t want his clansmen to vie for her attention or their gawks of her. His clan might be unkind, but they would never be outspoken in their aversion of her.
Callum brushed past her without further explanation and retreated to the solitude of his chamber. Once inside, he closed the door quietly and ambled to his chair. He sat and leaned his elbows on the desk and pressed his temples. She’d maddened him to a deplorable state. The woman confused him. He was more than muddled by her and his reaction. He didn’t need the distraction of a bonny woman to add to his difficulties. But he sure as hell wanted to bed her given his response to her kiss and the way she held him.
Callum reached for Henry’s missive and tore it open.
My good comrade, by now Violet should be safely arrived. I couldn’t tell you about her in case my missive was intercepted. The lady’s husband was executed by the king, my cousin Richard. He intends to force her to marry a knavish knight whom she despises. I too have an extreme dislike of him. I had to secure her safety, or her life was in great peril. Violet is the kindest of women and needs our aid. Ensure her safety for me. I am now in your debt. She cannot return to England. Now, for my bad news, Richard has exiled me. I am to leave shortly for Mann. My exile might take time to remedy, and so I leave Violet in your care. Ever your faithful comrade, HB.
Callum’s breath harshened at reading his friend’s words. He took a slow draw to bring his wrath under control. The woman had been through hell, and he’d acted like a boorish lout. He couldn’t send her away, at least until Henry remedied the situation. Bollocks. For now, he was stuck with her.
A knock came at his door and he shouted entry. He raised a brow when he saw his uncles and cousin bound inside. Callum stood and crossed his arms over his chest. There was no time now to deliberate whether he’d agree to become the laird of the Sinclairs. He supposed he had no choice but to accept the position unless someone else stepped forward. That was unlikely to happen. His Uncle Elias would insist he defer to him, which he wouldn’t do.
Clive leaned on his desk. “The uncles want a word with you.”
He scrutinized his uncles’ demeanor.
Ian, Clive’s father, was the most pleasant-natured of his uncles. He appeared amiable, but he always beheld a tolerant nature. He shoved him aside and took his seat at the desk.
“Elders should be offered hospitality,” Ian said and grunted with a chuckle.
“I should have the seat since I’m the eldest,” Elias said. “But you’re feeble of body and need to take rest. Aye, you should have the seat.”
The insult gained a low growl from Ian. Callum took a breath because their conversation wouldn’t be easy. His uncles often baited each other and their banter caused those around them to be confused or unaware of what transpired. He’d listen though, and by the end of their visit, he’d either agree to abdicate the role to another or be named the laird.
His Uncle Lockie stood by the door and only stepped a foot within. He said nothing but appeared to listen with a sedate gaze on his face. Lockie was the third born son. Of the Sinclair brothers, his father Edmund was the oldest. Then came Elias, next Lockie, and Ian was the youngest.
There were no daughters born of his grandparents, but with all sons, contention between his uncles was rife after his father died. When Gavin was named the laird, an instant dispute arose between his uncles, and it appeared the squabble continued.
“I know why you’ve come. Tell me why I should take the lairdship? I have thought long and hard about it. My brother was destined for the position, not me. With his death, the clan’s welfare now falls to me. Yet with my injuries, and… I cannot take up arms to protect our brethren. What kind of laird would I make? I refused to be seen as a lesser man.”
Ian shuffled the chair closer to the desk and sat back in a relaxed manner. “Your brother was the worst laird we’d ever had to put up with. If your father, my dear brother, Edmund, knew of his neglect, he would’ve cuffed his head and maybe even banished him.”
“Aye, Callum, you did more for our clan than your brother ever did,” Clive said.
Lockie grumbled ‘mm-hmm’ and nodded his agreement. He was a man of little words.
Ian pounded his fist on the table. “You have yet to recover, lad, and will take to arms again. In the meantime, there are hundreds of Sinclairs who we count on to protect our clan. You need not lift the sword. As to your brother, the Good Lord saved us by taking him. Aye, we want no other except you as our laird. It’s what my brother would’ve wanted, what I want.”
“Not me,” Elias said. “If the lad doesn’t want to be our laird, we shouldn’t force him. I’ll take the position. It should be my right since I was second born.”
Lockie moaned and shook his head, but didn’t interject.
Callum frowned at his Uncle Elias because the man always had a wee bit of hatred toward his father when he’d been laird. Both Ian and Lockie stood against their brother after Callum’s father died. It seemed they weren’t in accord with Elias competing for the lairdship either. He glanced at his family and detested the hostility amongst them. As he pondered that, he wondered where Elias’s son, Hammond was. He surely should’ve attended the family meeting. Callum hadn’t seen him since his return.
Ian stood and placed the flat of his hands on the desk. “It doesn’t work that way, Elias. According to our law, only the laird’s son inherits the title. If he should not accept or there is no son, a vote amongst the entire clan is called for.”
Lockie grumbled ‘mm-hmm’ and nodded his agreement again.
Clive set a hand on his shoulder. “Callum, you must agree to settle this discord. Will you be our laird and lead us?”
His shoulders slumped. “You would make a better laird than I would. Will you not consider it, Clive?”
The uncles gasped, chortled, and drew hard gazes at his question.
Clive stood next to him. “I cannot accept. The clan wants you, and I agree you’re more deserving of it than anyone. Besides, it is my duty to help you. I don’t wish to be chief. Take it, Callum, as is your right.”
“We cannot allow this conflict to continue and should settle it now. There are grave matters to attend to, our enemies will try to overtake us, should talk reach them of our troubles,” Ian said.
A silence resounded in the chamber. He paced around the desk and stopped to surmise each of his uncles. Callum looked to Ian for support, and his uncle would stand with him in most of his decisions. He cared for his clansmen. His Uncle Elias scowled and had a dark look in his eyes. He would be difficult to win over, yet Callum didn’t necessarily care if Elias accepted him or not.
And Lockie rarely voiced his objections or agreements. It was Clive though that won him over because his cousin needed him and Callum didn’t want to disappoint him.
“I have no choice but to agree to be the laird then.” The words came out easier than he thought they would.
“You shall begin your duties on the morrow, Laird,” Clive said. “We’ll leave you to rest.”
One by one the men left and Clive shoved his arm. “Don’t think to command me even though you’re laird.” He hooted a laugh and stood with a wily grin on his face.
“I already command you, Clive, but I appreciate your support.”
“Don’t be so grave. Being the laird won’t kill you.”
It killed Gavin though. Callum shook away the deplorable thought.
“We’ll meet in the morn and will go over the duties. I’ll see you then.” Clive bounded from the chamber and closed the door on his way out.
Callum flopped into his chair and sighed. It was over, the acceptance. He should’ve known they’d give him no choice but to agree. There was no animosity over their pressure, and he only wanted to be a good laird. Hopefully, he would, and the first thing he intended to do was settle the discord between his Uncle Elias and his brothers.
He’d have to leave his domain and be about the clansmen now. Perhaps Henry’s healer’s salve would lessen his pain. Callum took the container in his hand and opened it. The ointment smelled rancid, and he scooped a good bit out. He lathered it on his thigh and upper arm. Lord, he stunk. A tingle soothed his pain and eased his distress. With the medicinal at work, he rested his leg atop his desk and settled back in his chair.
As the tasks ran amok in his mind, he thought of Lady Violet. Now that he’d be out and about his clan, he’d see her more often. So much for his hope to keep his distance from her, or letting her allure rule him. He hadn’t been as smitten with a woman since he was a lad. How would he not give in to his attraction? There was too much at stake for such a matter to concern him, but he smiled.
Somehow, he had to elude his desire and Lady Violet.
Chapter Six
Violet had to figure out a way to get closer to Callum. She appreciated his handsomeness, but his eyes had a solemnness to them that tore at her heart. He was troubled. Henry said when he’d last seen Callum, he was dispirited. Regardless, she needed him, and if she might help him get over his despair, they’d both benefit.
She spent the rest of the day in her chamber. Gussy found the kitchen and brought food. After they ate, Violet left the bedchamber and explored the lower level of the keep. Night came, and the main hall darkened with only a few candles lit. No one was within, and she strolled around the hall until she reached the buttery. She needed a drink to calm her unsteady nerves. Nothing was left on the sideboard, and she searched the shelves and such for something to drink. There was no mead, ale, or anything stronger than water. Violet knelt and searched the lower shelves.
“What are you doing?”
Startled, she jumped at his voice, and hit her head on the wooden shelf. Callum stood in the doorway and leaned casually on the frame. How she must have appeared with her bottom thrust out at him. Violet’s face brightened. “You frightened me. I hoped to find something to drink.”
He pulled away from the door and approached the table. His limp was more prominent than it had been earlier. “You look like you could use this.” Callum set a jug on the table and retrieved two cups from the sideboard.
“It has been a hellish day and I couldn’t sleep.”
His eyes raked over her. “Me either, lass.” He poured a good amount of liquid in her goblet and handed it to her.
Violet took it and waited for him to pour his drink. She made certain to use rule one, and forced her shoulders back, and rule two, and kept her eyes fastened on his. After he filled his cup, she raised hers. “To new friendships.”
His brow twitched but his face was sedate. “Friendships.” He tapped his cup to hers and drank.
She took a gulp and hastily swallowed. The liquid burned her chest and her eyes watered. As the liquid went down, she coughed harshly. He pounded her back.
“Take small sips. I should have mentioned, this brew is a wee bit strong, lass.”
“I shall, but it’s just what I needed. What did Henry say in his missive?” Violet continued to take small sips and relished the warmth in her chest. Within seconds, all her tension eased. She sat on the bench across from him and tried not to ogle him. His handsomeness made her nervous though, but she had to make a show of confidence, especially if she was to seduce him as she planned. At that moment, she wasn’t brazen enough to evoke rule four. To touch him would bring her extreme delight.
Callum set his goblet on the table and leaned casually on his elbows. “You didn’t read it?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t intrude on your private correspondence.”
“He told me about your predicament, that the king executed your husband. You have my condolences.”
“Thank you, ah, Laird Sinclair. Your man, Clive, told me that you’re now the laird of your clan. I suppose I should call you such. Charles was a good man and for him to die as he did… He served his country and tried to make things better but was killed for it.”
Callum drank more of his drink and peered at her over the rim of his cup. “He also mentioned the betrothal the king is set to make. The man is unworthy?”
Violet wished not to talk about that horrid day when she’d gone to London. “I had to flee for my safety. He is a knave, worse actually. If I stayed and married him, he would have harmed me. It was best I leave England until both he and the king forgets me.”
“I doubt either will. The man’s reach is far? You’re safe here, worry not. No one comes on Sinclair land without our permission, and our sentry is always on guard.”
“He won’t desist in his search of me, that I’m certain. But I’m r
elieved to hear your land is protected. I thank you and do feel safe here.” Violet tried not to gawk at his handsome face, but her eyes wouldn’t look away.
He leaned on the table and poured more brew into his cup. “I acted poorly, didn’t I…when you arrived? I should apologize and do so. You arrived at an inconvenient time, but it matters not now.”
“I understand, Laird Sinclair. You hadn’t expected me, a woman… Henry wasn’t clear. He can be somewhat evasive when he wants to be.”
Sinclair chuckled. “Aye, that’s the truth. He can be subtle when he wants to be. Why did you kiss me?” He took a sip of his drink and kept drinking until he emptied his cup. His dark eyes fastened on hers and stayed there.
Violet swallowed hard at the way he stared at her, and at his question. She didn’t know how to answer. “Something came over me, I suppose. I should apologize for being forward and I do. Henry didn’t say if you were married. Are you? Or are you involved with someone?”
He didn’t react to her blatant question but remained composed. “I’m not married or involved with anyone, not anymore.”
“Did you not enjoy it, ah, the kiss? What if I were to kiss you again?”
He muttered something under his breath which she didn’t catch. “You shouldn’t talk like that. And hell, aye, I liked it, but I’m not in a position to court you. There’s no time for trivialities. I want you to promise to keep your distance whilst you’re here.”
She tried not to scowl, but his demand disheartened her. “I’m sorry if I have upset you.”
“You haven’t. Some matters trouble me which have nothing to do with you.”
“I see. However, I cannot promise to keep my distance. Since I’ll likely be here for a time, we shall come across each other. But I will promise to try not to be a distraction.”
Callum set his cup on the table with a bang and rose. “It’s too late, lass, because you are a distraction, one I cannot afford. I bid you goodnight, Lady Violet.” He turned and ambled to the exit. Before he disappeared through the exit, he turned and peered at her. His look smoldered and caused heat to reach her chest.