Authors: Kathryn Caskie
Erma smiled amusedly back at her. "Enjoy your glittery life while you can, Jenny," she said in a singsong voice. "Because even now, your world is crumblin' down."
The scullery maid emitted a deep throaty laugh as she rotated her hip and strolled cockily from the kitchen.
******************
Jenny paced the floor of her bedchamber. Just what had Erma done exactly? She'd mentioned the
on-dit
column. Had the wretched scullery maid truly exposed her to
The Bath Herald
?
Oh, no. Callu
m
.
The sudden thought stopped her mid-step.
He mustn't read of her treacherous lies in some gossip column. No,
no,
she had to tell him herself.
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Raising her hand to her mouth, she bit the soft fleshy up of her thumb as she sat down on the edge of the bed to think.
Today was Thursday, the day before the ball. But
The Bath Herald
would not be delivered until Saturday morning. She still had a modicum of time in which to think, to plot her strategy.
Jenny rose, opened her wardrobe, and looked fondly
at
her lovely new blue gown and sighed.
Time was short. There was no time for half measures. Jenny swallowed the apprehension wedged in her throat.
She knew precisely what she must do.
******************
In way of preparation for the grand birthday ball, the Featherton ladies, and surprisingly Meredith herself, took Jenny's very helpful advice. They retired early to conserve their strength for the much anticipated event the next evening.
Of course Jenny had her own reason for seeing them all abed. She could not risk them creeping around the house and looking for her once she'd made her escape.
It was only half past nine, when she surreptitiously wrapped herself in her warmest pelisse and mantle, then headed off alone into the cold night.
In the bitter wind, it hurt her lungs to breathe during the long walk from Royal Crescent to Laura Plac
e
—and Callu
m
. But she had to see him. Had to hold him, k
is
s him . . . one more time before her life crashed down
ab
out her.
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She longed to see the tender love in his eyes as he caressed her skin, and merged his hard body with her own.
For the last time.
This idea of hers was beyond scandalous, she knew. But it really didn't matter anymore. Jenny didn't care. She would be ruined in the eyes of all by Saturday morn with the sunrise delivery of the newspaper.
Her breath puffed furls of gray clouds into the air and her strides were wide and swift. In fact, so determined was she to see Callu
m
that she found herself standing before Lord Argyll's ta
l
l buff-colored home far more quickly than she had anticipated.
This was a problem, for though her pounding heart had made its choice by driving her out into the night, her mind still had not figured out what to say . . . without sounding like a light skirt.
One just could not barge up to the door and say, "Callum, I need to be with you tonight. Do not ask questions, just kindly show me to your bedchamber." Though, she thought, it would certainly be efficient.
And honest. And he did admire honesty.
It was standing before his front door that bothered her most. Anyone could walk by and see her, though that was unlikely on a freezing winter night like tonight. Still, why sully her name earlier than absolutely necessary?
So, she turned the corner for the alleyway between his house and the next, and scurried down a few narrow steps. With a hard shove, Jenny pushed the service door .. . and to her surprise, it opened.
Quietly, she crept through a dark cloakroom, then into the bright kitchen, where a plump cook sat drinking tea tinted near white with cream.
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The older woman's eyes grew astonishingly large when she spotted Jenny, and she struggled against her own heft to stand.
"Oh, do not mind me," Jenny said confidently as she passed through the kitchen. "Lord Argyll and I need to discuss a private matter and I did not wish to alert all of Laura Place to my presence." She paused before three
wide
doorways and turned her head back around to the woman at the kitchen table. "Which way above stairs?"
The confused cook lifted her finger and hesitantly pointed to the door on the right.
"Very good. Thank you, Cook." And with that, Jenny hurried through the doorway and up the stairs.
It was very dark when she emerged, though a wand of light broke through the partially open door of what Jenny took to be the drawing room. Stealthily, she tiptoed forward, holding her breath as she leaned close to peer through the opening between the door and the
i
amb.
And there he was.
Callu
m
.
The chair in which he rested seemed uncommonly petite in comparison to his large, commanding form. But there he sat, his long muscle-scored legs rising from
ben
eat
h
his kilt to prop themselves on a tiny footstool.
A smile came to her lips as the image of a great friendly giant from a childhood faery story seeped happily into her mind.
Jenny whisked her mantle from her shoulders with o
ne
hand as she unfastened the frogs at her throat and removed her pelisse with the other. All the while her gaze remained riveted on Callum.
The strong profile of his face, and even the sinuous
cu
r
v
e of his broad chest through the linen of his shirt,
250
was silhouetted against the light of the roaring fire in the hearth and it was all she could do to keep from sighing aloud.
God had certainly blessed the man.
Jenny removed her velvet Bourbon hat and quietly placed it and her wraps on the foyer table. Catching notice of the looking glass above the table, she leaned forward to peer into it. Her fingers poised to return any loose locks to their places, but the faint impression of the whites of her eyes peeking back at her was all she could see in the darkness.
What was she doing? She bloody well knew she looked grand, for she'd spent a full hour on her toilet before leaving. No, she was only delaying the inevitable.
Reaching out, she touched her fingers to the raised panels and pushed the drawing-room door open. Quietly she moved inside the room, then closed the door behind her and turned the key she found poised in the lock.
Ca
l
lum did not look up. "I'm wee
l
, Winston. But perhaps another whiskey might be in order."
Jenny's eyes caught notice of the amber liquid glowing inside the sparkling crystal decanter on the table near his chair. She slowly moved toward it, lifted the decanter, and tipped it so the liquid trickled slowly into Callum's awaiting glass.
She moved to the far side of him, already breathing deeply of his smoky masculine scent. Slowly, she lowered the glass down before him.
It took him but a half breath to realize it was not Winston at his side. Before she could blink her eyes, Callum's hand shot forward and caught her wrist.
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Jenny
,
struggled to hold the drink level as he swung h
is
head up to look at her.
"I must be drea
m
in'." His voice was deep and husky
as
he drew her around the chair to stand before him.
Smiling, she knelt before him, and leaned over and seductively sipped slowly from his glass. Moving it to his lips, she urged him to drink as well, then she set the glass on the plush carpet beside her.
"This is no dream, my love. I have come."
Callum's eyes were confused, but still he pulled her wr
is
t toward him, drawing her forward until she hovered above his seated body. "I dinna understand, Jenny."
Shaking her head slowly, she laid her finger over his i
i
ps. "Hush now. No words. No thoughts," she whispered softly.
Raising her skirt slightly for movement, she placed one knee and then the other on either side of his hips,
s
addling him. Callu
m
sucked in a breath, then moaned with pleasure as she wriggled atop his kilt to find her balance.
Through the silk of her gown and the cotton of her
c
hemise, she felt him harden against her, and like the wanton she was this night, she pressed solidly against h
i
m.
Heat washed to her center, making her want things an
u
nmarried woman had no entitlement to desire.
Callum caught her hips and made a start as if to lift
her
from him, but Jenny flung her arms around his neck and held tight.
"Jenny, what are ye doin'? Nay, lass, we canna do t
h
is again." But there was no conviction in his words.
None
at all. "We dinna even know if ye're carryin'
ou
r—
"
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"Hush, my love," she whispered warmly against his lips, nudging his mouth open with hers.
His right hand slid from her hip around to the base of her back and pressed her toward him. Cupping her jaw with his left hand, he guided her closer, into his deepening kiss.
As his tongue mingled with hers, she found herself rocking against his hardness, making him grow and pulse beneath her.
She broke the pressure of their lips and leaned back slightly to look at him. "I want you, Callu
m
." Her voice was low and she hardly recognized it as her own.
"But why now? Why this eve? I dinna understand." Callum's eyes searched hers for the answer, but it wasn't there. At least not in a way he could ever understand. Or that he'd want to understand.
If he knew the truth.
She did not reply. How could she?
She was saying good-bye . .. privately. Saying goodbye to the man who had become her world. To the man she loved with a depth she had never known was possible.
Jenny hugged him close and felt the new, strange hardness in her belly press against hi
m
. . . and a tear came to her eye.
She was saying good-bye to the man who had given her a gift more precious than diamonds, emeralds, or rubie
s
—
h
is love, and possibly, quite possibly, his babe.
But it had to be.
For a man who revered truth above all else would never understand the depth of her lies.
And so, tonight, Jenny would give him the trut
h
—
her truth.
She had to make him know how very much
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she loved him. No matter what else happened between them, after the ball, after the newspaper tore her wide open, she needed him to believe that her love was true.
Untainted. Pure and honest.
Jenny smoothed her fingers over his beard-roughened cheeks and looked deep into his eyes. "I love you, Ca
ll
u
m
. With all my heart and all that I truly am, I love you."
He pressed his lips softly to hers, then met her gaze once more. "And I love ye, Jenny."
Hearing her name, so tenderly spoken, sent her heart pounding within her ribs. For at this moment, there was no proper lady. No servant. Just two people, whose hearts had come together to create something new and wondrous.
He loved
her.
Not the trappings with which she masked herself.
Her.
And she loved him.
Jenny leaned closer until her lips brushed his as she spoke. Her eyes felt weighted and sleepy. "I want you, Callu
m
. I need to feel you inside of me."
This could not have been a surprise to him, but Jenny would not have known it by the expression on his face. But within the span of breath, a look of determination spread over his face. He reached around and, cupping her buttocks, lifted her as he stood from the chair.
Jenny clung to him, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, as he moved directly before the fire and laid her down before him on the soft carpet.
As she looked down, Jenny saw that her skirts were bunched around her hips. Her thighs were still spread wide, and Callum was standing high between them.