Chapter Five
It was the following day, and Selina had served the meal. Although Callum had partaken of his usual hearty breakfast only three hours ago, he had no trouble sitting down and eating again. Penelope was seated opposite him, watching closely as her maid delivered and removed plates when necessary.
“You might consider a smaller serving, MacKenzie,” Penelope said, her silver eyes narrowed as he ladled more soup into his dish.
“What if I am hungry?”
“Then eat something before you leave your house. You don’t want to be thought greedy.”
“A greedy Highland barbarian,” Callum muttered. “How is this helping me find a well-bred wife?”
“You might find a wife whatever your manners, but if you want one with intelligence and breeding, who is good company and will do you proud as your future duchess, then you need to listen and learn.”
There was nothing he could say to that.
“Selina, bring the raspberry syllabub.”
A delicate dish was set before him, with the addition of a tiny dessert spoon.
Callum picked up the spoon. It was lost in his great paw and he fumbled a moment, finding it necessary to hold it with the tips of his fingers and then take a heaped spoonful of the syllabub and bring it to his lips.
It fell off, sliding down his clean shirt in a splodge of raspberry red.
He jumped up with a curse and tried to wipe it off with his napkin, only to make the mess on the white linen worse.
Behind him, Selina made a sound that could have been a laugh, but when he turned to glare at her, her face was expressionless.
Penelope was also on her feet. “I think we will forego the syllabub,” she said drolly. “It is clearly not what you are used to.”
“I prefer my puddings large and solid,” he retorted. “And my spoons man-sized.”
They looked at each other a moment in silence and then Penelope’s lips trembled into a smile, which made him burst into laughter.
When he had recovered, he said, “For God’s sake, woman, no more syllabub!
In fact, no more food. I promise you I willna attack table decorations. I have learned my lesson.”
Penelope had been watching him as if she wasn’t quite sure what to make of him, but now she said in a firm voice, “I am very glad to hear it. I have a reputation to maintain.”
She gave Selina a nod and the woman made haste to clear the table.
“Let us move on to the more general subject of manners. You should not call me “woman”. You should address me as Miss Armstrong.”
He sighed. He knew this, he wasn’t a fool, but all he replied was, “Yes, Miss Armstrong.”
“And I should address you as my lord, or my lord Marquess.”
“What if I want you to call me MacKenzie? Surely it is up to me what you call me.”
“In private perhaps, but in company we should stick to the formalities. People might think it odd if I call you MacKenzie and you call me woman. Let us not confuse everyone.”
He nodded. He understood, but the sooner he was done with this, done with London, and on his way home to Bonnyrigg, the better.
Callum looked down at his shirt. The syllabub had soaked through and was sticking to him, and he eased it away from his skin with a grimace. “I need to change. Are we finished, or is there more?”
Penelope wrinkled her brow. “There is more, but I don’t suppose you are comfortable like that.” She hesitated before she said, “Remove your shirt and Selina will sponge it clean.”
Callum looked from one woman to the other and then shrugged.
He was used to being shirtless at home, when the weather was warm enough, or when he had built up a sweat, so it did not matter to him one way or the other.
But he had never been shirtless in front of two ladies before.
It occurred to him that it might be fun to ruffle Penelope’s composure.
So far he had seen very little of what went on beneath her serene exterior, apart from that one smile that showed him she actually had a sense of humor. He wanted to know more.
With a few tugs, he removed his neckcloth and tossed it aside, and then shrugged off his jacket and set that aside, too.
He pulled his soiled shirt over his head and held it out to Selina.
She took it, but her gaze was fastened on his bare chest like she had never seen one before. Perhaps she hadn’t.
“Ah, thank you, Mr. . . . my . . . MacKenzie.”
She whipped around and was out of the door before he could respond. He turned back to Penelope, who quickly lifted her gaze up to his. There was color in her cheeks that hadn’t been there before.
“Should we continue?” Callum asked sweetly, with an arch of his dark brow. “We only have three weeks until the ball.”
She looked away then back again, being careful to keep her gaze above his neck. “Hmm, very true. Let us pretend you are calling upon a respectable lady and have just been shown into her drawing room.”
Penelope seemed even more composed now he was half naked, but he suspected she was not.
His bare chest had shaken her somehow, which seemed strange when she must have seen Lord Muir’s chest many times.
Callum decided to play along and pretend not to notice.
He strode to the door and then turned and held out his hand.
“How do you do, Respectable Lady. Are you well? What a marvelous day we are having.”
Penelope blinked as she stepped forward to take his hand. “You overwhelm me, MacKenzie. I am well, and it is indeed a marvelous day, although I believe it may rain before luncheon. How are you enjoying London?”
Callum was still holding her hand, and strangely he didn’t want to let it go. She gave a little tug to remind him to release her. “London is not Bonnyrigg,” he said gloomily, and then remembering himself, added, “but I am enjoying it. Aye, it is bonny.”
Penelope sat down and gestured for him to do the same. Callum lowered himself to the chair and crossed one booted leg over the other.
There was a pause. She was fiddling with one of the cushions at her side, and he could see she had made a hole in the fabric. Was he making her nervous? He had not thought her the anxious type, but maybe he had been mistaken. Or was it his chest she was nervous about?
He looked down and saw that there was a raspberry streak across his stomach. He ran his finger over it, sucking the dessert into his mouth.
When he looked up, Penelope was watching him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly ajar.
So he did it again, taking his time. She gave a little gasp and suddenly jumped up and moved to the window.
Surprised, Callum observed her straight back and the way her shoulders stiffened.
Against the light from the window, her fashionable dress was opaque and he found himself wishing it was one of those almost transparent ones that Rory had told him the more Bohemian ladies were wearing.
Then he would have been able to see right through it.
Ungentlemanly of him, he knew, but lust was rearing its head and he was forgetting to be cautious.
Could he touch her? There must be some legitimate way in which he could do that, because suddenly he wanted to feel the texture and warmth of her skin against his fingers.
He wanted to feel her soft body pressed to his.
His voice when he spoke was a little sly. “My aunt wants me to be able to dance or at least manage a few turns around the room. Can we do that now?”
“We will get to that,” she said, still with her back to him.
“Why don’t we start now?” he asked. “While Selina is cleaning my shirt?”
Penelope looked at him over her shoulder and her face wore a suspicious look. Did she suspect him of teasing her? Did she know how much he wanted to take her into his arms? Callum smiled.
Instinctively, she smiled back and then just as quickly wiped it from her face. “You think yourself very clever, do you not, MacKenzie?”
“Aye, I do.”
She took a breath. “I have met men like you before,” she said evenly. “There is nothing you can say that will surprise me.”
“You havena met any men like me,” he assured her, and his voice was as smooth as hers. “And I am sure I can surprise you, if you let me.”
There was a silence and he wondered if he had gone too far. Would she reprimand him? He rather looked forward to that—her stern voice was very attractive. But he had underestimated her ability to put him in his place.
Penelope gave him a cool, polite smile, and said, as if their previous conversation had never happened, “Tell me a little about your home, MacKenzie. Have you any brothers or sisters?”
“I have two brothers and one sister,” he said, happy to follow her lead.
She murmured something he didn’t catch, but which sounded like “There are more of them”, just as Selina returned with his shirt. It was still a little damp but clean at least. Callum thanked her and pulled it on, leaving the neck open as he shrugged into his jacket.
Penelope breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief, which nearly made him take it off again, but he resisted.
“Let us practice dancing now,” she said. “Selina, the piano if you please!”