Chapter 4

Callum grinned in response to the latest letter he’d just received from Lady Emily. He hadn’t realized she possessed such sharp wit. How would he when they’d never spoken at great length? She’d responded to him in kind though, matching him every step of the way. It occurred to him he’d looked forward to her response. More than he cared to admit.

Ah, who was he trying to fool?

She’d always affected him. From the very first moment he saw her, dressed in white beaded lace and with her hair styled in a way that softened her features. No other lady had equaled her beauty that evening. As a result, he’d made an absolute arse of himself ever since.

It was time to change that. Time for him to pull himself together and stop getting flustered around her. He had to do it for Peter, and in his estimation, his efforts so far were proving effective. Their conversation in the park the previous day had gone better than he’d expected. She’d not only listened, she’d also made an apology of her own.

It was a start, though it would have been better if he’d thought to make future plans for them to meet. Somehow, doing so had escaped him completely until he’d returned home and Peter had asked about seeing Heidi again. Honestly, he could have smacked himself, for the truth was he’d been so relieved over saying what needed saying without doing something stupid to boot, everything else had slipped his mind.

Naturally, he’d promised Peter he’d ask about an additional outing. But when he’d sat down to write the request, he’d worried it might sound as though he’d apologized to Lady Emily solely for the sake of gaining access to her dog. Which wouldn’t do at all since it risked undoing the effort he’d made thus far.

He, therefore, decided to tread with more care. Which led to the idea of bringing her flowers.

What he hadn’t expected was the pure delight this exchange with her had led to. He’d been amused. Which was wholly unexpected because of how rude he’d believed her to be.

But was she really? The truth was he’d never gotten to know her. The chance to do so had never been there. However, based upon her correspondence, he was starting to think he might have been missing out.

With this in mind, he set off for her house that same afternoon. She had said he’d be welcome whenever he wished, and frankly, he’d rather not wait.

Anticipation raced through his veins. When he stopped by the hothouse on the way and the woman behind the counter suggested roses, he dismissed the idea. Instead, he selected flowers he didn’t know the names of, but they were pretty and brightly colored with accents of green. A lovely and rather unique bouquet, he decided.

Perfectly suited for Lady Emily.

He arrived at her home a good ten minutes later. The butler took his hat and gloves, then led him directly to the parlor where Callum’s presence was promptly announced.

Glimpsing Lady Emily, he took a deep breath and attempted to tamp down the old familiar queasiness gripping his stomach. It never happened in anyone else’s presence.

It took some effort for him to ignore the frantic beat of his pulse as he walked through the door, gripping the bouquet as though it would offer support. For some absurd reason, calling on Lady Emily at her home made him far more nervous than meeting her in the park. There was a certain formality to coming here with a bouquet of flowers.

Good heavens.

He hoped she wouldn’t think he’d embarked on a courtship.

Casting that possibility aside for the sake of pure self-preservation, he swept the room with his gaze. It was a lovely space, furnished mostly in creamy tones that were accented by hints of sky blue.

He sucked in a breath the moment he found her. Heat washed the back of his neck and his palms grew clammy. Unsure of himself, he was suddenly terrified he might cause some other mishap. Like tripping over the carpet and sending the flowers flying, or worse, landing upon the low table before her and knocking the teapot into her lap.

She stood, with the same sort of hesitance he’d decided he’d best apply. “Welcome, Your Grace. Please have a seat.”

Callum took quick stock of any potential obstacles in his path. Finding none, he approached the armchair she’d gestured toward. The maid who’d joined Lady Emily on her previous outings to the park sat a few yards away, her attention on some piece of mending she busied herself with while serving as chaperone.

“Thank you for seeing me.” Callum cleared his throat and pushed the flowers toward her. “These are for you.”

She smiled with what appeared to be genuine warmth in her eyes. The sight was so dazzling he forgot himself for a second and didn’t realize she was attempting to take the bouquet while he continued to grip it.

“Sorry,” he muttered, letting the flowers go. He cleared his throat again and started to sit, only to realize that she still stood. He quickly straightened himself once more while silently cursing himself for his foolish behavior.

Get a hold of yourself, man. She must think you’re stupid.

“They’re lovely,” she said right before she pressed her nose to the flowers and took a deep breath. “I think this may be my favorite bouquet to date.”

Heat rushed to Callum’s cheeks. He averted his gaze and scrubbed a hand across his jaw to hide the embarrassing effect of her words. “I’m glad you approve.”

She gave him a funny look before turning toward the maid. “Georgina, can you please find a vase for these?”

“Of course, my lady.”

“And please bring a fresh pot of tea with an extra cup when you return. Some of Cook’s freshly baked rhubarb tarts would be lovely as well.”

The maid departed, leaving Callum alone with Lady Emily though the door to the parlor remained wide open. No chance of getting up to mischief here. Not that he would consider it. Although thinking of not considering it made him ponder exactly that. His gaze shifted to Lady Emily. To her mouth in particular, and, for a second, he allowed himself to wonder what it might be like to kiss her.

Delicious.

“Your Grace?”

“Yes?”

“I was suggesting we sit.” She studied him a moment. “Unless you merely intended to drop off the flowers and leave.”

He laughed, the sound a touch too nervous for his liking. “No. I’d like to stay for a bit if you’ve no other plans.”

“None besides reading.” She lowered herself to the sofa and he took the armchair adjacent to it.

“Do you read a great deal then?”

“As often as I can. It’s my greatest passion.”

“Really?” He was slightly surprised. The Lady Emily he’d seen over the years hadn’t struck him as a bluestocking. “What’s your favorite book?”

“An impossible question for me to answer.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Which have you reread the greatest number of times?”

She averted her gaze and fiddled a bit with her skirts before saying, “You’ll think it silly, I’m sure, but it’s actually Celestina.”

“Why would I think that silly?” He smiled and relaxed in her presence for the first time. “I must have read that book a dozen times.”

“Truly?” She stared at him with wide-eyed amazement. “You’re not jesting?”

He leaned forward slightly and affected his most serious tone. “I would never jest about such an uplifting novel.”

She grinned, and in that moment, everything changed. Callum couldn’t explain it, but he felt like a bit of a fool. Somehow, he’d allowed his first encounter with her to guide every subsequent interaction. He’d managed to tie himself into knots over thinking of how to approach her and what he should say once he did. As a result, he’d always moved too quickly while in her presence, and this had made him clumsy.

Now, he wondered why she’d made him so nervous. She was, as it turned out, quite normal.

“What’s your favorite part of the story?”

Callum considered her question with care before giving his answer. “I believe it must be the duel.”

“I love that too, though I think my favorite part is when Willoughby discovers the truth about Celestina’s birth and realizes they are free to marry.”

“You’re absolutely right. How could I have forgotten?”

She beamed at him without answering that. “What’s your favorite pastime activity?”

“One would think it’s pestering you.” He was glad when she laughed in response to the joke. “In truth, it’s actually writing.”

“Oh?” She looked visibly intrigued and appeared as though she might say more on the subject, but then the maid returned and distracted her. A fresh pot of tea was placed on the table along with a teacup intended for Callum. A plate filled with four rhubarb tarts was set beside it. Lady Emily thanked the maid, and then, much to Callum’s surprise, she said, “I know you have duties to attend to, Georgina, so feel free to leave us.”

The maid bobbed a curtsey and departed. The door, Callum noted, remained wide open. Still, he could not help but ask, “You’re not worried you might need a witness in case I trip over my feet while attempting to stand?”

“I sent her away so there won’t be anyone here to see if something like that occurs,” she told him wryly. “Thought I’d protect your pride.”

He met her gaze with a laugh. The sparkle of pure amusement he found there went straight to his heart. Had he known she’d been this delightful he’d not have wasted six years steering clear of her or blaming her for turning him into an awkward idiot.

“I’m truly sorry for all of my blunders.” He’d told her so already, but it was the sort of thing that warranted repeating. “My intention was never to cause you harm or embarrassment. It was purely accidental.”

“So you’ve said, and I believe you.” She poured the tea. “Perhaps we can speak of your writing instead? I’m curious to know if you’ve ever been published.”

“I have not.” Thankfully this was the truth. The book he’d helped his friends write had been printed, but one couldn’t truly say it was published until it was made available in a shop. He picked up his cup. “It’s just a hobby, you see – a way for me to escape the world in a more responsible way than I used to.”

He didn’t miss the look of sympathy in her eyes, but rather than question what he might need to escape from, she asked, “What’s your preference? Poetry or novels?”

“Short stories,” he said. Having set his cup aside, he indicated the tarts. “May I?”

“By all means. Please help yourself.” She pushed the plate toward him and waited for him to select a tart before selecting her own. “And what sort of style would you say you favor?”

“It’s a bit of a mixed bag, to be honest. I suppose my mood sets the tone.” He bit into the flaky tart crust, catching Lady Emily’s gaze as she did the same. A laugh rolled through him, and her eyes, he noted, danced with humor. Not that there was any particular reason for it besides simply feeling at ease.

“Would you ever allow me to read some of it?” she asked once she’d finished eating.

Callum swallowed the last bite he’d taken and opened his mouth, prepared to answer, when the sight of her licking her fingers rendered him mute. She seemed not to care that he saw, and this had a couple of very opposing effects.

On the one hand, he liked that she was comfortable enough in his presence to do the most practical thing instead of what was considered most proper. On the other, however, she was sitting right there, licking her fingers!

While holding his gaze, no less. And smiling.

He would have shredded his napkin, had it been made of paper. The sight was so bloody provocative, his blood started to sizzle. Heaven have mercy, the woman was born to be a seductress.

“Well?” she asked.

Well, what?

He tried to marshal his thoughts. What had she been saying? Oh right. Would he let her read his writing.

“I’m not sure that would be wise.”

“Whyever not?”

“Because you love reading.” He picked up his teacup and set it to his lips. “I’d hate to change that.”

Her answering laugh was instant. “Not a chance, but I shan’t press. If you ever do feel inclined to request an honest opinion of your work, I’m happy to oblige.”

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.” It would never happen. He’d rather die than let anyone read his stories while knowing he was the one who’d penned them.

A comfortable silence followed before she spoke next. “Your first letter to me was an unexpected surprise. You’ve never attempted to contact me before.”

“You’re right.” His gaze went to Heidi, who was curled into a tiny ball on the carpet. “I did it for Peter.”

“Of course you did.”

His gaze shot toward her just in time to catch the pained look on her face. He could have kicked himself in the shin just then. Putting doubt in her mind was the last thing he wanted. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m glad you and I are talking. It’s taken too long to get to this point, but I didn’t simply decide to seek you out for you alone.”

Oh, for the love of God, stop putting your foot in your mouth.

She’d narrowed her gaze and who could blame her?

He prepared to explain, but before he could find the right words she asked, “Was the apology genuine?”

“Of course it was.”

“I want to believe you, but I’m not sure I do.”

“I haven’t lied to you, Emily.” He froze at the realization that he’d foregone the use of the honorific. “Sorry. Slip of the tongue, my lady. I, um…”

Lady Emily stared at him as though trying to work out what might be wrong with his brain. Breaking eye contact, she tilted her head. A crease appeared on her brow. “Whether or not your apology was sincere, I cannot fault you for trying to make a child happy. Who is he to you?”

Callum sighed. “He’s my cousin’s son. He and his wife perished a few months ago in a fire. The will left Peter in my care.”

“Oh dear.” Lady Emily’s hand came to rest over his for a second before she snatched it away as if burned. “I’m so incredibly sorry.” Her eyes glistened. “How absolutely awful. That poor boy.”

Callum flexed his fingers. He could still feel the spark from her touch gently burning beneath his skin.

“My father’s death destroyed me three years ago, and I was already a man. I can’t imagine what it must be like for Peter. We were practically strangers, he and I, until I was asked to come and collect him. He’s my responsibility now, but I don’t know how to help. Nothing seems to offer him comfort, or at least it didn’t until we met you last week while you were out walking.

“His response to Heidi gave me hope. That’s why I’m here. The main reason, at least. Playing with her in the park the other day made an impact on him. He’s started talking more, but much of what he says pertains to future interactions with Heidi.”

“And you worried there wouldn’t be any since we made no additional plans?”

“You didn’t invite us to join you again so I thought you might have considered the outing a one-time occurrence. That’s why I’m here. Because Peter needs this.”

“You could have told me all of this yesterday when we met.” She tilted her head as if in thought. “Why didn’t you?”

“Honestly, I forgot.” He felt monumentally stupid.

She pressed her lips together as though to stifle a laugh. “That’s actually a perfectly sound excuse.”

“Later,” he admitted, “when I finally thought to send another request, I feared you might suspect me of taking advantage. Coming here in person, allowing you to get to know me a little bit better, seemed like a better course of action. One more likely to meet with success.”

“We’re speaking of helping a child.” Her voice was slightly sad, her eyes more so as they stared back at his. “Did you really think I’d refuse?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps not. I’m honestly not sure.”

She was quiet for a long moment, during which Callum prayed he’d not said the wrong thing. He watched as she drank some more tea, then as she worried her lower lip, all while holding his breath.

Eventually, she said, “I realize Peter might prefer playing with Heidi, but she also needs to go for walks. I take her every morning after breaking my fast. You’re welcome to join me if you like.”

“Peter and I would love that,” Callum said as he expelled his breath.

“Let’s meet at the Hyde Park entrance tomorrow morning then. Will ten o’clock suit?”

“Perfectly so. Thank you.”

“Hopefully, with a bit of common sense and caution, you and I can prevent another accident from occurring.”

“I shall certainly do my best to keep you out of harm’s way,” he promised.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

He glanced at the two remaining rhubarb tarts. They were awfully good, but since he sensed their conversation was at an end, he abandoned the idea of having another and stood. “Until tomorrow, my lady.”

She bid him farewell and he left with a smile. He was not only pleased with the progress he’d made for Peter’s sake, but for his own as well. Lady Emily, as it turned out, was not only pretty. She was also a lovely person whose company he’d enjoyed a lot more than he had expected. His heart thumped with the excitement of seeing her again soon.

He only hoped he wouldn’t ruin what had the potential of turning into a marvelous friendship.