Chapter 2
Margot stared at him for a moment. She could see that he was in pain and was fighting against it, and she admired his courage and determination, but those two qualities were not going to help mend a broken shoulder.
“We should get back to your home,” she suggested. “I can ride in front. I’m quite a capable rider, and I am sure I can get us both back safely.”
For a moment, a hint of a smile crossed Callum’s face. However, it was not a friendly expression, but one of scorn and cynicism.
“And do you think I would trust you to do that?”
Margot’s fury suddenly flared up, and she gave him a withering glare. “You may have an injured shoulder, but at least you are still alive!” she yelled. “If I had not done what I did, you would either be dead or begging for your life.”
Callum nodded slowly. He was in so much pain that he was not thinking rationally, but the young woman, whoever she was, was right. She had saved his life and he had not thought to thank her or even ask for her name.
“You are right,” he conceded. “I am sorry, but that does not help me now. I need to fix this.” He grimaced as he passed a hand over his injury.
“You cannot mend a broken shoulder by yourself!” Margot was horrified. “You need a skilled healer to do that!”
This time, despite their dire circumstances, Callum’s smile was one of amusement. “If you were right, I would agree with you,” he said. “But my shoulder is not broken, merely dislocated.”
“Dislocated?” Margot was mystified. “What do you mean?”
Callum laughed a little painfully. “My, my, you are a sheltered wee thing, are you not? Do they not teach you anything down south? My shoulder is not broken. The top bone in my arm has slipped out of its socket, and I need to put it back in again.”
“So? You still need a healer to help you, unless you intend to fix it yourself.” She stood staring at him angrily, hands on hips, feet apart, the picture of defiance.
“That is exactly what I intend to do,” Callum replied, watching with amusement as her expression changed from one of angry defiance to one of utter astonishment.
“But you cannot—” she began.
“Oh, but I can.”
He grimaced with pain as he stripped off his jacket and shirt, and Margot watched in astonishment and alarm as he stood bare-chested in the faint light.
He was absolutely magnificent—even though his arm was hanging at a strange angle—having the kind of physique she had only ever seen in pictures of Greek and Roman gods.
Broad shoulders and a wide chest tapered down to a narrow waist and slim hips, and there were rows of rippling muscles on his torso.
She was overtaken by a strange, tingling feeling that was unfamiliar but extremely pleasurable, and for a minute, she was unable to tear her gaze away from him, but then she shook herself back to reality.
Margot knew that she could not spend her time ogling this man when there was work to be done and their situation was so desperate.
“Can I help?” she asked. “I know nothing about this kind of thing, but perhaps I can do something.”
Callum was in too much agony to stand and admire the young woman, but he could see that she was lovely, and under any other circumstances he would have paid her more attention. Now, however, all he wanted to do was relieve his pain and return home to sleep and forget this utterly horrible day.
“You can distract me,” he suggested. “Tell me about yourself.”
Margot’s eyes widened in astonishment.
“My name is Margot Tewsbury.” She paused, watching him struggling with his arm, then went on.
“You have met my father, and the less said about him the better.
I have two sisters, Eliza and Juliet, and they are both very beautiful.
My father wanted Eliza to be married to a Scottish Laird.
The man came to our house and left with her, but we have not heard from her in a while.
Juliet and I are still single women. We used to live in London, but my father moved us north because it was cheaper to live up here.
He also had some other reasons, I suspect. He owes money to many people.
London is an interesting place, but the people in Scotland, from the little I have managed to observe, are quite different; honest, straightforward and plain-spoken.”
She stopped, wondering if she was helping at all, then she rambled on for another few moments, feeling as though she were talking gibberish and making no sense at all. At last, she came to a halt, having run out of things to say.
“Keep talking!” he barked, his face a mask of pain and rage.
Margot saw sweat beading on his forehead. He was trying, but clearly not succeeding, in pulling his arm back into its socket, and she wished that she had the strength and knowledge to do it for him. It seemed that words weren’t reaching him. Pain had swallowed him whole.
She stepped forward and looked into the anguished pools of his dark brown eyes, then, possessed by a sudden impulse that came seemingly from nowhere, Margot cupped his face and kissed him on his firm lips.
She sank into the intimacy of the sensation a moment before she heard a sharp popping sound. Alarmed, Margot tried to back away from him, thinking that she had somehow made the injury worse.
However, she found herself unable to do so, when Callum had wrapped his uninjured arm around her and had drawn her so close to him that their bodies were pressed together.
At that moment, they were not strangers, but two people whom fate had brought together, not by chance, but by destiny.
Margot abandoned herself to the sensation of Callum’s mouth caressing hers, having lost the ability to think clearly for a moment.
She raised her hand unconsciously to place it on his shoulder and heard him crying out in pain as she touched his injury.
Margot leapt back in horror as she realised what she had done. “I-I’m sorry to have hurt you,” she said, her voice filled with regret. “Are you—”
Callum held up a hand. “I am fine,” he replied, then he said wryly, “You are skilled at distraction, Margot. Are all Sassenach girls like you?”
Margot twitched a smile, feeling a little more at ease. “No, but you Scots seem to think we Englishwomen are all under the thumbs of men, and that is not so,” she replied, her cheeks flaming. “I have a mind of my own.”
She moved to stand in front of Callum and assessed him. His arm and shoulder were back in their rightful place, but she realised that they would need support if the shoulder joint was to stay in place.
“Do you have any bandages with you?” she asked.
Callum shook his head, looking puzzled. “Why?” he asked.
“A belt?” Margot persisted.
He frowned. “No,” he replied irritably. “Why do you want one?”
Margot did not hesitate a moment longer. She bent down and ripped a strip of cloth from the hem of her dress, then another one. She tied them together so that they formed a long strip, which she wound around Callum’s elbow and uninjured shoulder to support the dislocated one.
I can’t leave him now, she thought. He cannot ride by himself.
She went to the stallion’s head and rubbed the back of her fingers against his velvet nose, thinking. She would have to help this massive man mount the horse, since there was no way he could do it unaided, but she had no idea how. She could certainly not lift him!
She looked around to see a tree stump standing nearby and walked towards it. “You will have to let me help you,” she told him.
She felt guilty that this big, strong man had been reduced to a state of such helplessness because of her impulsiveness. Then she reminded herself that an injured shoulder was better than death.
Callum sighed resignedly, stepped up onto the tree stump and climbed into the saddle.
His shoulder was still very painful, but he was determined not to show it in case he appeared weak in front of Margot.
He had been impressed by her resourcefulness and capability, and the fact that she was good to look at added to her appeal.
However, he doubted that he would have had anything to do with her had it not been for her situation, since he was not in the habit of picking up random women for pleasure or any other purpose.
Yet, his conscience would not have let him leave her there to become a victim of all the lascivious, predatory men in the den of iniquity in which he had found her.
The Mackintosh Laird had been riding past the House of Pleasure that night after a business appointment.
Having just sold several livestock, he was in possession of a substantial amount of coin.
He was not a gambler, but when he saw the commotion there, some instinct had driven him to find out what was causing it.
He had astonished himself with both his rage and his impulse to intervene on the young woman’s behalf, but he knew what would happen to her if he did not.
He had watched as the lass fought like a cornered wildcat—bonny, furious, and entirely too brave for a room full of wolves. Having heard the old man’s words, he knew she would be nothing but a slave to his perverted sexual desires, and he could not let that happen.
However, Callum knew that Davie Brown would want the girl back, and he’d go far and wide to get her back.
Margot climbed onto the stallion in front of Callum and felt the hard strength of his good arm as he wrapped it around her waist. Her back was now resting against his chest, and she loved its firmness and warmth.
She had never sat in such close proximity to a man before, and it gave her a strange, tingling thrill.
However, there was one matter she had to clear up before they left. Margot looked over her shoulder at Callum.
“I am sorry I kissed you. I’m not usually so forward. I just panicked… I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I hope I did not give you a wrong impression. We are in this whole mess because of me. I should never have challenged my father—I don’t know what came over me! Everything is my fault.”
He laughed softly, a low, rumbling sound that came from deep in his chest.
“I like the way you panic, Margot,” he replied.
“I would like to see you panic again. But no, the impression I have is of someone who is helpful and who does her best with whatever she has in a desperate situation. We helped each other out tonight, so please don’t worry.
I’m grateful to you. Now we really must find our way back to my home. ”
“Where do you live?” Margot asked. “Is it far away?”
“Kilmuir Castle,” he answered. “It is perhaps five miles from here. We can be there in an hour.”
There was silence for a while after they set off, and Margot felt awkward and uneasy. She could usually talk to anybody about anything, but with this man, she was almost tongue-tied.
“Are you a footman at the castle?” she asked at last. “A guard?”
“No, I own it. I am the Laird of the Mackintosh Clan. Kilmuir is my clan seat.”
“Oh!” Margot exclaimed, startled. “I had no idea you were such an important person.”
He laughed. “I have a great deal of responsibility resting on my shoulders, but important? No, not especially.”
Margot was mystified. “But if you are the Laird and you own the castle then surely you are the highest ranking person on your estate? At least that is what I have always understood.”
“Many people could do what I do,” he explained. “I have a very capable steward, but I would rather not discuss myself any more. How are you feeling, lass?”
Margot laughed bitterly. “My father is a monster, and so is his brother,” she told him.
“What happened tonight was unexpected but not surprising. I am none the worse, but thank you for rescuing me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, but I belong to you now—you bought me, and I hope you treat me better than he does.”
Her voice was sad and bitter.
Callum was silent for a moment, then he said, “I did what any man who calls himself a man should do, and I treat all women with respect.”
They rode on for another short while before the lights of a vast building appeared in the distance. In the near-darkness, Margot could not make out its shape, but its bulk covered the entire summit of a flat-topped hill; it was truly massive.
As they approached and its features became clearer, Margot could see a high wall surrounding it, and an enormous gate was opened for them by two guards who were both armed to the teeth.
It was made of great planks of oak reinforced with a grid of iron bars and looked as though it could withstand the charge of a hundred horsemen.
Suddenly, Margot’s attention was whipped away by an anxious female voice shouting, “Callum! Callum! Where have you been?”
The owner of the voice was running towards them, and Margot felt a sudden wave of fear wash over her.
“Are you married?” she asked breathlessly, her cheeks flaming and her heart pounding.