Chapter 7
Callum sat on the edge of the settee in the drawing room with a delicate teacup.
The mood of the ladies was an odd mix of amusement and chagrin.
There was much throat clearing and stilted small talk.
His mother sat in an armchair next to him, and his sister stood by the pianoforte, having a whispered conversation with a lady he did not recognize.
“Lady Westhorpe has apologized profusely, of course. What a fiasco.” His mother leaned toward him to not be overheard.
It had been a miracle in Callum’s estimation, but the truth of what happened would have only added to his mother’s distress.
“The snow would have made the journey home treacherous. It is just as well you stayed the night. In fact, you might be stuck here a while longer. Is everyone accounted for?” He tried to keep his voice casual.
“Who knows? If they aren’t, then I’m sure they would prefer us to look the other way.” His mother scooted her chair even closer. “I lost track of your sister for a time. At least, I think I did.”
The unexpected twist had his eyes going wide. “Did she not share your room?”
“She was beside me this morning, but…” His mother bit her lower lip. “My memories are muddled.”
“Did you ask her?” Callum studied his sister with a closer eye.
Nora’s color was high, and her mood was almost giddy. She had a healthy, if dry, sense of humor and was rarely glum, but she did seem infested with a bright anticipation that was unusual for her. Her gaze kept straying to the door. Was she waiting for someone in particular?
All of a sudden, he saw his sister not as an amusing but annoying little pest, but a young woman.
A young woman who had grown into her coltish figure and was beautiful in a way that would attract more men than Callum was comfortable considering.
Was it too late to send her to a nunnery? Or at least lock her in her room?
“I wanted to ask, but she’s been so touchy lately.” Her mother was wringing her hands. “It’s been difficult between losing your father and…” She didn’t have to finish her thought. The look she sent him under her lashes was enough.
He drained his tea, set the cup aside, and slumped into the settee, rubbing a hand down his face.
A month ago, his life had been simple. Sad and boring, but simple.
He hadn’t concerned himself with anything or anyone besides his own guilt and shame.
Now he felt guilt and shame for another reason entirely.
He had abandoned his family when they had needed him the most. His mother had been left a widow, and instead of supporting one another and sharing their grief, he had closed himself off.
“I’ll discuss it with her,” he said.
His mother looked surprised, which only made his regrets keener. “That would be welcome. Nora and I have been too much in one another’s pockets of late.”
His mother relaxed, but Callum didn’t. “How would you feel if I began courting a lady?”
The question came out in a nervous rush. His mother had been close to Amelia and her family. He wasn’t sure how she might feel about him possibly wedding someone else.
He needn’t have worried. Even though her eyes brimmed with sudden tears, she smiled and patted his hand which was clutching his knee in a grip so tight his knuckles were white.
“Amelia wouldn’t want you to be alone forever, Callum. You deserve to be happy.”
Callum wasn’t sure if he truly believed that, but he recognized happiness was rare and within his grasp. He wouldn’t let it slip through his fingers.
“Do you have someone in mind already?” she asked.
Eleanor stepped into the drawing room arm in arm with her sister. He stood and stared. Her hair had been re-coiled and pinned and her dress freshened. Their gazes locked. His mother had turned in her seat to see who had entered.
“Ah! Mrs. MacGrath’s sister. Will you introduce us?” Amusement brightened his mother’s voice.
He performed the requisite introductions, and Charlotte and Eleanor joined him and his mother. Niceties followed. Small talk about the weather and upcoming yuletide season.
“I hope you won’t be leaving anytime soon, Mrs. Denholm,” his mother said so obviously that Callum’s cheeks heated to match the blush suffusing Eleanor’s face.
“I have no plans to depart,” Eleanor said.
“Would you like to take a turn about the room?” Callum stood and held out his arm for Eleanor. She tripped in her haste to join him, and he covered her hand on his arm to steady her. As they ambled around the edge of the room, he did not let go.
“Were you seen this morning on your return?” he asked in hushed tones.
“Only by a scullery maid to point me in the direction of my sister’s room.”
“It seems as though chaos abounded, and no one noted our absence.”
“Or perhaps no one else wants to draw attention to their own behavior by calling out ours.” She cast him a telling look from the corner of her eye. “Charlotte is certainly being quite mysterious.”
“Apparently, there is some question as to my sister’s whereabouts as well.”
Their shared laugh was tinged with curiosity and a smidge of worry.
He cleared his throat and stopped where there was no one to overhear them. “I want to make my intentions clear, Eleanor. I plan to court you for as long as it takes to win your heart. I will be the perfect gentleman and wait until wedding night to touch you again. I am a patient man.”
She looked solemn and thoughtful. Had she reconsidered his suit? His mouth grew dry, and his mind churned over arguments to win her over.
“What if I don’t wish you to wait to touch me again?”
It was not what he was expecting to hear. “Pardon me?”
She pulled him into a corner, half tucked behind a ficus.
“You have expanded my world, Callum, and I don’t want to revert back to what society expects.
I have lived too long accepting unhappiness and ignorance as a woman’s lot.
I want you to show me everything. And I want to discover new pleasures with you.
Then…” Her lashes dropped, shielding her glittering eyes. “I plan to help other women.”
“How?” It was the first question that made its way out even though a thousand scrolled through his scrambled mind.
“Charlotte and I are going to write a book. A primer, if you will. A wicked widow’s guide to pleasure. No woman should go to her wedding bed ignorant of how children are conceived and how to obtain pleasure with their husbands. Or with someone else.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“We would pen it under a nom de plume, of course. No one will know it is us.”
He wasn’t sure if the “us” she referred to was Eleanor and her sister or Eleanor and his exploits in bed.
“In fact, if we can find like-mind ladies, perhaps we can interview them and include their advice and wisdom.” Her excitement was palpable.
“I think…” He grappled with his feelings.
The spark in her eyes dimmed and her mouth grew firm. “You do not approve.”
It was not a question. But that wasn’t what he was thinking. He had asked her what she wanted, and she was telling him. What did that cost her after late husband had dismissed all her wants and needs?
“You misread me.” He leaned closer to whisper while holding her gaze. “You want to explore every carnal desire with me—I most heartily approve—but I want something in return.”
“What’s that?” She asked with a guarded expression.
“If I promise to fuck you in every way, you must allow me grand romantic gestures in order to win your heart.”
Her smile was like spring come early, and he basked in the warmth.
“Then it’s a pact.” She held out a hand for a shake.
He took it and instead of shaking it, he brushed a kiss along her soft skin. “If I could, I would seal our promise with a real kiss.”
She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, plump and pink and tormenting. “I don’t think I can wait until the snow melts. Can we meet this afternoon?”
He pursed his lips. “It’s time for lesson one of your guide. Anticipation can be sweet. The build of desire and need will make our next time even more explosive.”
She swallowed. “I feel as though I could explode with a single touch.”
He chuckled even though his cock was in a similar state. “A wicked widow indeed. Now I must take a seat before anyone sees what you have done to me.”
He shifted back, and she glanced down. Her eyes went wide and her mouth formed a shocked moue at his obvious erection.
He couldn’t stop his smile. “Or not so wicked?”
“Not yet, but I hope you will help me change that soon enough.” She strolled away from him, tossing a flirtatious look over her shoulder.
He followed, the look in his eyes intense but playful. “It would be a pleasure, madam.”