Chapter 23 #2
“Elsie and I had always friends,” he continued, suddenly, not meeting her eye.
“She was much like Kat, in fact. Clever, outspoken, determined. I admired her a good deal. When I became Laird and realized I had to marry, marryin’ her seemed a fine choice.
Her father was wealthy, owned a good deal of land.
He was well-respected among the other clans, and Elsie herself was a talented healer, loved throughout the clan.
She was popular. We werenae in love with each other, but we certainly did love each other, if ye understand what I mean.
Everything went well. Until…” He swallowed hard, eyes fluttering shut.
“Until it all crumbled. Elsie lost her light. Ye would never have believed that a woman like her could give in to melancholy, but she did. She rotted from the inside out, and I did nae notice until it was too late. She took her own life, and I could nae save her.” ElsieElsieElsie
“It isn’t your fault, Callum.”
“Then whose fault should it be? I was her husband, and I could nae save her. I ken that Thomas blames me. I daresay he is right.”
Melody bit her lip, glancing away. “I have a feeling that you won’t answer me, but… but can I ask you what happened to make Elsie lose her light?”
He rose stiffly to his feet.
“Nay, I cannae talk of that. I daresay if ye were to dig into the keep gossip…”
“I won’t do that.”
He shot her a quick, approving look.
“Thank ye, Melody. Ye are a wonderful woman, and a kind one, ye ken that? That is why this betrothal can never be real. I’ll nae be the reason why somethin’ terrible befalls ye.”
“Callum…”
“Nay, I’ll nae be argued out of it. I fear that I will disappoint ye, lassie, very strongly and very soon. Ye daenae deserve it, but there it is. Disappointment is better than death.”
He threw her an apologetic smile, wan and a little pitying. To her own surprise, Melody felt a flare of anger tighten in her chest. She rose shakily to her feet and jabbed a finger in his direction.
“You… you are no better than my father. No better than that awful bald Englishman that Papa wanted me to marry!”
Callum stared at her, flabbergasted at her fury. “I… What?”
“You are all the same. You say you are acting in my best interests, but you never stop to consider what I would want. You certainly don’t let me choose.”
“That’s enough, Melody.”
“Or what? What will you do? Callum, do you not see how horrifically unfair all of this is? You show me the most wonderful things. I am not just talking about mistakes. I am talking about horse riding, festivals, and being invited to council meetings. You let me enjoy these things; you encourage me to be brave; you tell me that I am… that I am a wonderful woman. Then you quite casually tell me that you have decided my future for me and will not be argued with. Can you truly not see how unfair this is?”
A flush crept across his cheeks. It occurred vaguely to her that this was perhaps the first time she had seen a blush of any kind on Callum’s face. She had assumed that the man was not capable of blushing.
“Ye daenae understand the full story,” Callum murmured, after a half-moment of silence.
She threw up her hands. “Of course, I do not understand the full story, because you have not told me the full story. If you told me everything, I could decide for myself whether to stay or not. But you are determined to take my choice away from me!”
He took a step toward her, waving a finger warningly. “Have a care, lassie. I’m still the Laird here. Daenae think to order me around like yer English gentlemen.”
“Well, why should I not, when you treat me the same way they do?”
“Oh, aye, and how’s that, then?”
He closed the distance between them, coming almost nose to nose with her. He was breathing heavily, eyes narrowed. He was angry, Melody realized. That should have been her cue to back away, to think carefully about her next words.
Naturally, she did nothing of the sort.
“They treat me as though I am fragile,” she shot back.
“A pretty but delicate piece of glass, made to be admired but never touched. You see me exactly the same, don’t you?
You admire me, but you do not want me, and those things are very different.
If you do not want me, Callum, I wish you would simply come out and say it.
I am not as fragile as you think, and I can handle it all. I can.”
He stared down at her for a long moment, his breath catching in his throat.
“Ye think that I daenae want ye?” he said at last. “Ye truly think that?”
The heat in his voice hadn’t been there before. Melody blinked, swallowing.
“Well, I…”
He lunged forward, seizing her chin and tilting her face up.
“Ye have nay idea what ye are speakin’ of, lass,” he breathed. “Ye think I daenae want ye? Ye have nay clue how I have burned, Melody. Perhaps I should show ye.”
Melody opened her mouth to say something. She was not sure what she had meant to say, but in any case, only an undignified gasp came out.
A slow, wolfish smile spread across Callum’s face.
He kissed her, quickly and roughly, one arm winding around her waist and pulling her against him.
A stab of desire crackled through her stomach, making her shiver.
He chuckled, low in his throat, and it occurred to her that he must have felt her shiver.
Without warning, the world shifted around her, and Melody found herself deposited firmly but carefully on her back in the grass. Callum loomed over her, supporting his weight on his hands and knees. He grinned once more, his canines seeming just a little sharper than they should be.
“I daenae ken what it is about ye, lass,” he breathed. “But I feel as though I am losin’ my mind.”
He pressed his lips to hers, firm and demanding, and Melody did her best to kiss him back.
She was determined not to be paralyzed this time, to contribute.
To that end, she lifted her arms, running her palms up the broad curve of his chest to his shoulders, then looping them around his neck.
Men must enjoy being touched this way, must they not?
She had felt as though she were on fire when he was close to her, so surely this…
“I daenae think so,” Callum barked, and abruptly grabbed her wrists. “Nay, lass, ye are bein’ punished.”
“Punished?” she squeaked.
“Aye. Ye said that I did nae want ye. That’s a serious insult, lass. So, ye must be punished.”
He leaned down, brushing his lips across hers.
It was the faintest of touches, and when Melody tilted her chin to fit their lips more firmly together, he darted back, out of her reach.
Chuckling at her frustration, he pinned her wrists down with one large hand and trailed the other down the curve of her plait.
“Ye daenae mind if I borrow this, do ye?” he enquired, tugging at the ribbon at the end of her plait. It came loose easily, and he immediately wound it around her wrists.
Melody could hardly breathe. Attacked by a combination of odd sensations—the grass blades tickling her skin, the cool ground against her back, and Callum’s heavy legs straddling her hips—she simply could not connect her thoughts with her lips. She could not have spoken, even if she tried.
Once her wrists were securely fastened, Callum glanced down at her, eyes narrowing.
“Are ye afraid? Do ye want me to stop?”
Melody’s eyes widened. Speech seemed impossible, but she could certainly shake her head. She shook it hard, indicating a firm no. A satisfied smile spread over Callum’s face.
He kissed her again, a little more gently this time, but in a more distracted way. One hand remained on her wrists, just above her head, keeping them in place. It was not a firm grip, but Melody did not think that she would be able to wriggle free if she tried.
His free hand curved around her cheek, one fingertip dancing over her skin. The delicate, prickling touch continued down the column of her throat, over the ridge of her collar.
For some reason, she had expected him to skip over her breasts. Instead, he placed his palm directly over her curves, applying the slightest pressure. Her breath hitched, and she felt Callum’s lips curve into a smile against hers.
“I had a feelin’ that would interest ye,” he murmured. “Perhaps now is nae the time, then. Later.”
Later? What a wonderful word! Such promise!
His hand slid lower, over her ribcage, and impatiently tugged at her skirt. Melody’s hands jerked to help him, but he chuckled aloud and held them in place. He tugged up her skirt, allowing cold air to touch her bare legs. She shivered, but the sensation of cold lasted for only a moment.
There was something hurried about his movements now. He turned his head, peering down at her lower half, and she was sure that his breath was coming harder than before. He ran a palm up the side of her thigh, nudging her legs apart, and briefly cupped the join of them, her core.
Melody closed her eyes, biting her lower lip to keep from gasping aloud. He touched her the same way he had before, with confident, slow strokes, growing in speed.
“I wish ye could see yerself as I do,” he grunted, a half-whisper that she was not entirely sure that she ought to hear.
Then the sensations piled up again, more intensely than before, it seemed, and the same pleasure tightened her gut, spreading out from her core to her limbs like some kind of explosion.
She sucked in a breath once the peak was passed. Had she been holding her breath?
Callum removed his hand, glanced down at her, and thoughtfully placed two fingers in his mouth. Heat spread through Melody’s face.
“I… I…” she managed, breathless. Now was the time to say something meaningful, to offer… well, she was not sure what she ought to offer, but surely…
Before she could formulate words of any kind, Callum sat up, removing his hand from her wrists. He undid the ribbon’s loose knot and deftly returned it to the end of her loosening plait, tying it in a neat little knot.
“Another mistake, then?” Melody managed, gingerly propping herself up on shaking arms.
He gave a thoughtful smile. “I daenae believe I’ve ever wanted anythin’ the way I want ye.”
Her breath seemed to get caught in her throat.
“Come, lassie,” he turned back to her, extending a hand. “We have the council meetin’ tonight, remember? We had best head back in time for that.”
She gave up. Now wasn’t the time to press the matter further There was an inward-looking expression on his face which hinted that she would get nowhere. Instead, she followed him meekly back to the horses on shaking legs, putting the beauty of the hidden clearing behind her.