Chapter 19-Margaret #3
Margaret nearly bristled with irritation—at herself for handing over the dog without even being asked, at Callum for being present—again—and even at the dog, for he was now bestowing kisses upon the scruff of Callum’s dark jaw.
Callum held a hand to the dog’s healthy front leg as if he were taking its measurement against his palm and fingers.
“Going to keep him, then?” He met her eyes, his brows raised.
Margaret bit back the urge to tell him no—but that would hardly be fair to the dog, to leave him on the streets just to spite the man.
“Yes,” she finally admitted. “If I can get him secretly into the carriage.”
“Why does it have to be a secret?”
“Because young ladies should not be bringing three-legged dogs home.”
“Why not?” He asked the question guilelessly, as if he genuinely wasn’t trying to provoke her.
“Because it simply isn’t done, that’s why. Ladies are supposed to be elegant and…and…clean. They aren’t even supposed to notice stray dogs.”
Callum’s smile was slow and easy. “Ladies are supposed to be kind. What’s kinder than taking care of a dog who doesn’t have a home?”
“Well, I can’t take all of them,” she grumbled with a frown.
This man seemed perpetually determined to see the best in her. From any other person, she might have welcomed the sentiment. From him, it made her exceedingly frustrated and grumpy, for no reason at all.
It’s because you know you can’t have him, a voice within her said.
“Of course you can’t take all of them, but you can certainly change this one’s life for the better.
” Callum handed back the dog and seamlessly flicked the edge of Margaret’s cloak to hide it.
The movement made her stomach flip with something that she could only describe as delicious nerves.
“Just because you can’t do everything doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do something. ”
Margaret wanted to kick him soundly in his oversized shin, mostly because she agreed wholeheartedly with him. It was highly inconvenient to find common ground with a man who vexed her at every turn.
“Yes, well. I’m not certain my brother will even let me keep him.”
“If he doesn’t, let me know.” Callum smiled down at the pup, who’d shoved his head out of the front of her cloak again. He ruffled the dog’s head. “I’ll take him in.”
“You’d do that?”
He shrugged those wide shoulders. “Why not?”
Margaret didn’t have a good answer, other than that it went against everything she believed about Callum. He’d been mocking her, hounding her, for several weeks now—or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself.
She frowned. “What would you do with him?”
“What do you mean, do with him?” Callum’s forehead creased. “What anyone does with a dog, I suppose. Snap my fingers the first few times he climbs onto the furniture, then pretend not to notice until I reach a place of gradual acceptance that it’s now his sofa, probably.”
“But you won’t…you won’t…” Margaret floundered and went silent.
Callum arched his eyebrow, as if waiting for her to vocalize her fears. They all sounded silly when Margaret actually went to put words to them. A three-legged dog wasn’t one that you put into dog fighting, or that you raced, or used in any of the other ways a dog might be mistreated.
“Why would you want him?” she asked.
“Because he needs a good home, and a house isn’t truly a home without a dog in it.
” Callum smiled and patted the dog’s head again.
“I couldn’t bring my wolf hounds with me to London—they’re used to the countryside.
I miss having a dog with me, and I’m sure this chap would adapt well once I go back to Scotland. ”
“You’d take him back with you?”
“Of course.” He studied her, his forehead wrinkled. “What have I done to earn such skepticism on your part?”
“You tease me, all the time,” she blurted.
“Pardon?” His eyebrows lifted. “When have I teased you?”
Margaret felt herself going pink, but she soldiered forward. When was she ever going to have this opportunity, to be able to speak to him freely without her sisters or a ballroom full of eavesdroppers listening?
“You tease me all the time. When you call me beautiful or talk about my hair. When you say you’re courting me.”
Callum blinked at her, his mouth slightly ajar.
As she stared up at him, her expression determined even though her face was a blazing pink, he slowly smiled.
“Margaret, I will always tell you the truth. My honor requires it. And I have never, not once, been teasing you about any of those things. I meant it when I told you that you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
I meant it when I said your hair reminded me of the sun.
That’s why I call you mo ghrian—my sunshine.
And I certainly wasn’t teasing when I told you that my aim is to court you. ”
Margaret stood for a moment, stunned. She couldn’t have said what expression was on her face.
She was grateful Callum was strong enough to catch the dog when she thrust it into his arms and blurted, “You’d better take him after all; my sister’s allergic.”
Then she sprinted for the carriage and scrambled up inside, not even daring to so much as peek out the window before it lurched into motion to take her home.