Heart in the Highlands by Heidi Kimball
Chapter Eleven
Two days did nothing to lessen Kate’s distress. She couldn’t eat. She hardly slept. Charlotte had grown cross with her on several occasions for not listening as she ought, and once, Kate nearly lost her temper with her daughter, who while in search of Cleo yet again, asked whether “Mr. Callum” would be coming for another visit.
A constant battle warred inside Kate. If she considered nothing but herself, the answer would be easy. Callum had left Scotland without her, and he could go back the same way. But one night—their wedding night—had changed everything. There was now someone more important to consider.
The daughter who claimed both of them as parents.
Kate went upstairs Thursday night with a heavy heart, still undecided. She put on her night things and climbed into bed, only to toss and turn. For so long, she had considered Callum’s return an impossibility. But now that Callum was here, in the flesh, she was being forced to consider things she had long avoided.
For now, Kate could bandage scraped knees, help Charlotte find her runaway cat, and sing lullabies to her as she fell asleep. But a mother’s love wouldn’t always be enough. When Charlotte grew up, she would need to be introduced into Society. She would need respectability, connections, a wardrobe. A Season to help her make a match and secure her future and, therefore, her happiness.
And as things stood, Kate could give her none of those things.
If Kate foolishly insisted on continuing on in this manner—separated from her husband—a shroud of scandal would follow Charlotte wherever she went. No matter how unfair it seemed, all that Kate might give her daughter would not be enough.
Charlotte needed her father.
And that meant Kate would need to allow the very man who had broken and abandoned her back into her life . . . for good. She let out a small, shuddering breath. It was too much. The impossibility of the situation washed over her, and she felt as though she might be torn in two. How, after all he had put her through, could she possibly agree to take her place by his side, as his wife, once more?
But how could she not?
Charlotte’s entire future was at stake. And truly, what did Kate’s heart matter when weighed in the balance?
To Scotland they would go.
Even with her choice made, she couldn’t sleep. Kate thumped her pillow as if it were somehow to blame for the situation she now found herself in. Was taking Charlotte away from everything she’d ever known really the right thing to do? The thought of returning to Scotland made Kate’s stomach turn as she remembered the howling winds and the desolate loneliness she’d felt those two months she’d stayed at the manor after Callum’s departure. But worse still was the prospect of facing him day after day, pretending to feel serene when in fact she was eaten up inside by the careless way he had discarded her.
But the thing that weighed heaviest on her mind . . . at some point, whether that time be soon or distant, Callum would want an heir. And what would she tell him then?
After lying in bed for several long hours, with sleep the furthest thing from her mind, Kate threw back the covers, pulled on her robe, and padded downstairs. Perhaps some warm milk would calm her.
To her surprise, a dim light flickered in the kitchen. Harriet sat at the small table, and when she saw Kate, she pushed a teacup toward her. “Warm milk,” she announced. “I couldn’t sleep a wink with you tossing and turning about, and I thought it might help.”
Kate pulled out a chair and took a seat. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you awake. Is Archie up as well?” She wrapped her hands around the teacup, and its heat seeped into her. She took a long sip of the milk and relaxed a little as the warm liquid reached her middle.
“That man sleeps like the dead.” She scoffed. “I could put a donkey in his bed, kicking and braying, and he’d not wake.”
Kate laughed a little at the image. “Surely he can’t sleep as deeply as all that. He wakes with the roosters, after all.”
“With a little help from this old rooster,” Harriet said wryly.
Kate shook her head, still laughing. “Forgive me for waking you, at least.”
“It seems to me you’ve got a good reason for not sleeping.” Harriet gave her a wary look. “And will that man be back in the morning?” she asked, but of course she already knew.
“Lord Rowand will be here bright and early, yes. And I do believe you should prepare enough for him to breakfast with us. Things might be less awkward if we go about our normal business.”
Harriet scowled. “Nothing has been normal since you received word of his coming.”
The woman’s defensiveness filled Kate with a warmth far different from the milk in her teacup. “We must make the best of it.”
“And do you mind if I ask what, exactly, I will be making the best of?” Though her voice was gruff, Kate heard the worry in it.
She stared down into her teacup, hardly able to say the words. “Charlotte and I will be returning to Scotland with Lord Rowand.”
“I see,” Harriet said curtly, refilling Kate’s cup. “Well, our place is here. We have strong English roots, Archie and me. And Rosemont Cottage will not keep itself. Someone must look after it.” She rose, her gaze not meeting Kate’s.
Kate placed a hand on her arm. “I’d like the two of you to come with us.”
“To Scotland? With you and Charlotte?”
“Nothing will be familiar to Charlotte. I think having you and Archie would help a great deal. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my asking is just as much for me. I am not sure I can face it all on my own.”
Harriet put her hands on her hips. “It’d not be easy to find someone to look after the cottage on such short notice.” She pursed her lips. “It wouldn’t do to let it fall into disrepair.”
Kate said nothing. Harriet liked to come to decisions all on her own and could be quite prickly when pushed.
“But poor Charlotte. What would she do without me and my gingersnaps?”
Kate had the sudden urge to throw her arms around Harriet and thank her for everything, though she knew the woman would balk at such a display. She rose and settled for placing a quick kiss on Harriet’s cheek. “Does that mean you’ll come? Do you think Archie will agree?”
A rare half smile pushed up one corner of Harriet’s mouth. “Do you think I’ll be giving him a choice in the matter?”
Kate was a tangle of nerves when Callum’s carriage pulled up across the expanse of lawn from the cottage. Her hair had been pulled back into a simple chignon, but she hadn’t yet dressed. She turned to Harriet, a trace of anxiousness in her voice. “You’ll bring Charlotte down as soon as she is ready?”
“Yes, and Archie promised to bring up some breakfast for her. You know how cross she can be before she eats.”
“A wise idea,” Kate said, nodding. Harriet bustled away.
As far as dresses, there were precious few choices. The monthly stipend Kate had received from Callum had all gone to household expenses, with little to spare for her wardrobe. Kate fingered her oldest, most worn gown, and considered wearing it to show how little she cared of what he thought of her.
But she quickly discarded it in favor of a more suitable one—a pink day dress normally reserved for Sundays. Frankly, she needed every ounce of confidence she could muster as she faced him this morning.
The dress was certainly more worn than it had been when she’d packed it to take to Scotland all those years ago. And it fit her differently now—Harriet had needed to let out several of the seams after Kate had given birth to Charlotte. But the color was flattering, at least—it brought a rosy hue into her cheeks. She bit her lips to give them some color as well. It wouldn’t do to look homely when she informed Callum of her decision.
All too soon there was a knock at the door. “Archie will get it. Take your time,” Harriet called from down the corridor. She popped her head into Kate’s room. “Heaven knows the man made you wait long enough.” When she got a look at Kate’s dress, her eyes narrowed.
“Do I smell scones?” Kate asked, hoping to distract her.
“I made porridge this morning. I feel no need to put on airs for a man who has ignored his wife and child these past years.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I can see, however, that you feel differently. Would you prefer scones? Perhaps he won’t notice your modest circumstances if his stomach is full and his eyes so well-pleased.”
“Harriet, please. Not now.”
“I, for one, think he should notice,” she grumbled loudly enough for Kate to hear. But she said nothing more.
Kate headed toward the stairs, but she couldn’t help peeking in on Charlotte. She looked angelic, her face in peaceful repose, though her tangled hair was strewn across the pillow and one arm hung off the side of the bed. Kate’s heart squeezed, knowing these were the last moments Charlotte would belong completely and wholly to her. Kate stepped away from the door before she changed her mind.
Archie waited for her at the bottom of the stairs. He gave her a long look and then settled a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll not leave you.” He nodded and stepped back like a loyal soldier ready to follow her into battle.
“Thank you,” she whispered and blinked quickly.
This time, Archie had exercised a degree of civility and shown their guest to the morning room. Callum held his hands behind him, his back turned, staring out the window. Kate watched him from the corridor, trying to collect herself before going in.
Callum turned as she entered, nearly stealing her breath. He was impeccably groomed this morning, from the elegant lay of his hair to the sophisticated knot at his throat. His tanned face hinted of faraway travel, where the sun shone more plentifully. Much as she hated to admit it, it only added to his handsome features and rugged charm.
He bowed. “Good morning.” He swept an appreciative glance over Kate, and she blushed until she was sure she matched the shade of her dress. Harriet was right. She should have worn one of her everyday gowns.
She gave him a bare curtsy and motioned for him to take a seat. He waited for her to take the lead, however, and irked her by choosing the chair right next to hers. She’d hoped to keep a little more distance between them.
“Have ye made your decision, then?” he asked, getting straight to the point. If he felt any apprehension about what her answer would be, he didn’t show it.
“I have.” She drew out the silence before she said, “I have decided Charlotte and I shall accompany you back to Scotland.”
He let out a breath, one he’d held for a long while. The column of his throat tightened, and he looked down at his boots.
She clasped her hands together in her lap. “But”—she paused—“I should like to lay out several conditions that must be met.”
He nodded, his gaze fixed upon her face. “Name them.”
“I would like to be certain of your intentions toward Charlotte and ask that you settle an inheritance upon her that will pass to her when she comes of age. If, for some reason, you tire of her and decide you do not fancy the role of father, I want to be sure she will be taken care of.”
He flinched at her words but merely pressed his lips together instead of protesting. “Did you have an amount in mind?” he asked in an even voice.
“As the sum of my dowry was thirty thousand pounds, I believe that would be an agreeable amount.”
Callum adamantly shook his head before she had even finished, a lock of his brown hair falling over his forehead. He smoothed it back into place. “She will one day be the daughter of a duke. Sixty thousand pounds would be more suitable.”
Kate tried to cover her shock, but her mouth fell open a little, and her throat went dry. “I’d understood that you were cut off by your father when you left Scotland.” She left her question unspoken.
“Aye, but I am not without the means to provide for my own daughter. Or her mother.” His gray gaze pierced her. “I haven’t touched a single pound of your dowry, Katie.”
Kate’s fingers turned white as she squeezed them more tightly together. She’d always felt like a bought woman and had envisioned Callum somewhere far away, spending her dowry without a care for the wife he had purchased. Somehow, his admission eased the sting of his abandonment, though she couldn’t explain why.
“And?” He lowered his brows and shifted toward her. “I assume there is more?”
“Yes. Yes, of course.” Kate unclasped her hands, and they began to tingle as blood flowed once more through her fingers. “Charlotte means everything to me. She is the reason I am agreeing to this. But this will upend her entire world. She is gaining a father and leaving the one home she has ever known. She does not need the added weight of our history. We will simply explain that you have been away . . . in . . .” Curiosity seeped into her words.
“Barbados,” he filled in.
“Barbados,” she said slowly, adjusting her own imaginings to fit the truth. “And now you have returned to take us to Scotland.” She dipped her chin. “And we will give her no reason to believe that all is not civil between us.”
“I feel perfectly civil, so that will require no pretense on my part.” His face remained sober, though his eyes shone with mischief.
And here she’d thought he would be serious for at least half an hour. “It is a pity, then, that I cannot match your sentiments. But for Charlotte’s sake I am willing to go to great lengths to convince her I feel nothing but amiable toward you.”
He looked as though he might provoke her again, so she cut him off. “When Charlotte is present, we will be kind and courteous in one another’s company. And neither of us will ever say anything disparaging about the other to Charlotte.”
He grew thoughtful. “And what about when Charlotte isn’t present?” he asked.
The question seemed sincere, but a blush bloomed on Kate’s cheeks nonetheless. “I cannot imagine that either of us will take great pains to be in the other’s presence much when Charlotte is not around. In fact, it will likely be quite the opposite. But let me set some firm rules so there can be no misunderstandings.”
He nodded, his jaw working. “Ye’ve piqued my interest.”
She could not look in his eyes, so she chose instead to focus on a small scar above his left eyebrow. “We will maintain separate bedrooms and, as much as possible, separate lives.” Kate gave him a tight-lipped, polite smile, but her eyes narrowed in near sarcasm. “I am sure, since you have kept your distance for so long, agreeing to those terms will be no trouble at all.”
Callum was silent, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She almost wondered if he’d heard her, because his eyes roamed over her face slowly, in an almost intimate manner. She felt heat again rising in her cheeks, and his boldness provoked her into nervous babbling. “You will not flirt with me. You will not touch me or try to kiss me.”
Callum got to his feet and walked away from her, back to the window where he’d stood when she first found him. He was silent for a long moment, and Kate berated herself for the foolish outburst.
“Ye seem tae have greater confidence in my self-discipline than I deserve credit for,” Callum said from where he stood. He turned to face her. “Even so, I will agree to your terms.” He sauntered toward her slowly, his brows raised in a pointed look. He stopped in front of her. “However, I cannot be held responsible for my actions should you violate your own boundaries.”
Kate stiffened and raised her chin. “I assure you nothing is less probable.”
“Shall we shake on it, then?”
It seemed too simple for him to so easily agree to everything she’d asked for. But it was better to act now, before he had time to think on it. Warily, she held out her hand, and the encompassing warmth of his palm closed around hers.
“Ah, there. Ye see?” One side of his mouth crooked up in a smile. “Not ten seconds into our agreement and already ye’re touching me.”