Chapter 8
Margot felt wretched for the whole of that day, and barely managed to meet Eileen’s eyes because she was so consumed with guilt. However, if she noticed anything, Eileen said nothing, but was her usual charming, easy-going self which made Margot feel even worse.
At dinner that evening Margot could hardly look at Callum, but she joined in the conversation, which naturally consisted of the events in the courtyard that afternoon.
“Whose idea was the foot kissing?” Callum asked curiously. His gaze fell on Margot, but Eileen answered the question instead.
“It was mine. We wanted to make a bet on who would win the bout, but neither of us had any coin, so…” She shrugged, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “We decided to do that instead. It was just for fun.”
The two women exchanged glances, and again Margot felt a stab of guilt, especially when Eileen leaned over to squeeze her hand, smiling into her eyes with genuine fondness. Margot had not encountered such kindness from anyone but her sisters, and another wave of guilt swept over her.
I am a nasty woman, she thought. I am playing around with this lovely lady’s betrothed behind her back, and she has been so kind to me. I should be—no, I am—so ashamed.
Eileen yawned suddenly. “Oh, dear! Excuse me, I did not sleep well at all last night. A bad headache. That wine we had at dinner was so delicious, I may have indulged a wee bit too much.”
She laughed, then stood up to leave and Callum pulled her chair out from the table, as propriety demanded.
He caught Margot’s eye, a quick but piercing look that made her quiver, and suddenly, she realised that she could not possibly stay in the same room with him without Eileen. There would be too much tension and too much temptation, and she could do without any more of that!
She hurriedly got to her feet. “I think I might have an early night too. I am reading a very good book currently, and I cannot wait to get back to it.”
She followed Eileen, while Callum looked on in puzzlement and anger.
She glanced at him again before she hurried out, wanting to explain why she could not trust herself to be alone with him.
However, she pushed the thought away with a great effort of will.
From now on, Margot would take care never to be alone with him. It was far too dangerous.
“What kind of book are you reading?” Eileen asked as soon as the door closed behind them.
“A medieval adventure,” Margot answered. “I cannot remember the name of the author.”
“Is it a love story, though?” Eileen asked curiously.
Margot nodded. “Yes,” she answered, “it’s quite riveting, about a very proud man and a spirited young lady.”
Eileen narrowed her eyes and looked at her thoughtfully. “Hmm, that reminds me of some people I know.”
Margot shook her head, smiling, then, after a brief hug, they each went to their own room. Her conscience started pricking again. How could she slink around behind Eileen’s back having secret trysts with her betrothed?
She was ashamed, but the attraction between her and Callum was heated, magnetic and almost impossible to resist. Margot was surprised that Eileen had not sensed it, or perhaps she had, but did not care.
Callum had told her several times that theirs was not a love match, but a political one, and she had seen plenty of disastrous examples of those!
Margot had to admit that her fondness for Eileen, as well as her attraction to Callum, made her want to keep them apart. She could see that theirs would be not so much a marriage of convenience as one of total indifference.
An heir would be needed, of course, and the thought of that child being conceived made her burn with jealousy.
Margot shook the tormenting thoughts out of her head and entered her room, where she found Catriona folding some of her borrowed laundry.
She sighed and said, “If only my sister was here, Catriona. She is an absolute expert with a needle and could run a dress up for me in no time at all.”
She sat down on the bed, a picture of despondency, and Catriona knelt down in front of her with an expression of sympathy on her usually lively face.
“I feel for ye, mistress,” she said gently. “I lost my wee sister when she was only ten. That was eight years ago, an’ I still miss her. But your sister might be just fine. Have faith, mistress.”
“You are so good to me, Catriona.” Margot felt her heart warm at her maid’s kindness. “Thank you.”
Catriona stood up. “It’s nothin’, mistress. Just daein’ my job,” she said, smiling. “Now, how about a wee bath? Will that cheer ye up?”
“Indeed it will,” Margot replied.
“Glass o’ wine?”
“Only if you join me,” Margot answered. “I know you’re not supposed to have it, but a little now and again will do you no harm at all. I know you love French wine, Catriona.”
“Thank ye, mistress,” Catriona replied, beaming.
Two manservants came with hot water for the bath a few moments later, and Margot sank into its warm, scented water with a great sigh of relief and satisfaction.
The feel of it on her skin felt like a caress, and she was carried back to those moments she had spent in Callum’s arms, once more feeling a spasm of guilt going through her.
She tilted her head backwards and submerged her face in the water, and when she resurfaced a moment later her mind seemed to have become a little clearer.
When she took a sip of her wine it flowed over her tongue, leaving its warm fruity flavour in its wake, and Margot found a few moments of peace before thoughts of Eliza came back to torment her.
She thought at once of writing a letter to Juliet, suddenly realising that she had been neglecting her all this time, thinking how she must be mad with worry.
I have allowed myself to be distracted with a handsome face and a few kisses, she thought bitterly. What a thoughtful sister I am!
She rose from the bath and allowed Catriona to dry her then put on her nightgown and robe.
“Is there anythin’ else I can get ye, mistress?”
“Yes,” Margot replied. “Could you get me some writing materials, please? I need paper, a quill, and a bottle of ink.”
“I am sorry, mistress,” Catriona replied. “Only the Laird can give ye those. He keeps a’ that stuff hisself. Should I go an’ ask him for ye?”
Without thinking, Margot answered, “No, thank you, Catriona. I can do it. Go and rest now. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, mistress, sleep well,” Catriona said as she left, closing the door softly behind her.
Margot stood up, took a deep breath and walked to Callum’s office.
At this time of night the castle was eerily quiet, and the only sound Margot could hear was her own footsteps.
She paused outside the door to the study then knocked and waited for a few moments before knocking again a little more loudly.
When there was still no answer, Margot took a deep breath and opened the door, then stepped inside. There was no one there, but a candle was burning on the desk, and by its light Margot made out a quintessentially masculine room, and extremely tasteful.
The ebony desk and chair dominated the space, and the chamber was lined with shelves that held hundreds of books and ledgers. Margot could smell their leather bindings, a scent that she had always loved.
She looked at the big fireplace where the wood was reduced to glowing embers and was giving off the last of its heat, and shivered. She really should have put a cloak over her robe, she thought.
Margot held her hands out to the fire for a moment before turning to the big ebony desk.
There was a quill there, but it was very worn, and the bottle of ink that stood beside it was almost empty.
She would have to search further, but the thought of going through Callum’s personal belongings was not a pleasant one; still, it had to be done.
Margot was just about to pull the first drawer in the desk open when a familiar deep voice startled her.
“Are you spying on me, wee Sassenach?” he asked suspiciously, but his eyes were twinkling.
Margot felt herself blushing, and she stammered, “N-no. I needed some paper and ink to write to my sister Juliet. There might be news of Eliza.”
Callum stepped closer to her. “I was only teasing you, Margot,” he told her, smiling. “I will be happy to give you what you need.” A wolfish grin spread over his face before he added. “For a small fee.”
Margot’s heart sank. “But I have no money, you know that,” she retorted, hearing the tremble in her voice.
“Then you will have to pay me in kind,” Callum said, taking another step closer to her.
He was so close now that Margot could feel the warmth of his body.
“With what?” she asked, although she knew the answer before Callum told her.
“A kiss,” he said softly, reaching out to touch her cheek. “That was the way you settled your bet, was it not?”
Margot tried to back away, but her back was already against the wall.
“You know that was not the same thing at all,” she said desperately.
“It was done in jest! I-I can’t kiss you again!
” She pushed his hand away. “You are engaged to Eileen. I won’t be a temptation.
I won’t come between you… it is just not right, Callum. ”
“There is nothing between Eileen and me,” he stated with an exasperated sigh.
He gripped Margot’s upper arms and stepped so close that they were only inches apart.
“Yes, we are betrothed, but things change, and I believe that we met for a reason. How many times have I told you this is a matter of duty? We are in the middle of a situation that is out of our control. We have to do what is required of us—no more. I want you, and I know that you want me.”
Margot had been about to deny that, but it would have been foolish because they both knew it was true.
However, a moment later, when Callum tried to kiss her, just as his lips were an inch away from hers, Margot gently but firmly pushed him away.
“I-I am sorry, Callum,” she whispered, her voice husky with emotion. “I know that what you say is true. But still, you are a Laird, you deserve better than me. You need a lady like Eileen, someone of your own class. I am not worthy, and you are already spoken for another anyway.”
Callum opened his mouth to speak, then decided against it. He felt angry, rejected, and was afraid to say something he might later regret.
At first, she was ashamed to raise her gaze, but then Margot’s eyes followed Callum as he fetched the writing materials she had asked for, then handed them to her.
It seemed that despite her rejection and the distance she had put between them, he was still a perfect gentleman.
She knew she had to leave that minute, or she would never have the willpower to do so, so she bobbed a swift curtsey, as if remembering her position, and then left.
However, her mind was too agitated to apply herself to writing a letter, so she climbed into bed and burrowed under the blankets, then closed her eyes and dreamt of Callum’s kisses for the rest of the night.