‘Perhaps we should ask Miss Hennaut,’ smirked Fenella.
Tara held her breath. ‘What do you mean?’ she said lightly.
‘Well, he did come to your aid once, did he not?’
‘Oh, yes. He was kind enough to help us when our carriage got mired on the road.’
‘No doubt he has muscles to spare.’ Fenella spoke to Jennet but kept her eyes on Tara. ‘But as I said, no wit or conversation. You might as well try to converse with my uncle’s prize hog as with him, Jennet,’ sneered Fenella.
‘Well, I don’t want him to talk to,’ said Jennet. ‘Strong as on ox is Callum Ross, with great stamina, I am sure. That is what one wants in a man - a vigorous lover who does not talk too much. Aye, he would be a spirited bedfellow indeed.’
‘‘Then it would seem he is perfection. We must ask one of his lovers if he passes muster.’ Fenella looked at Tara again and giggled, and something about the way she did it seemed cruel. ‘Off you go and talk to him, Jennet,’ said Fenella, shooing the young woman away with her fan.
She sidled closer to Tara. ‘Jennet is such a fool to seek the favour of Callum Ross. I mean, who wants a man who is spurned by other women?’
‘How so?’
‘He made an offer for Mona Cameron last year. Bonnie enough is Mona, I suppose, but she wed elsewhere - a more refined gentleman, less rough at the edges and without dirt under his fingernails. Mona had a lucky escape, I would wager, avoiding the bed of that scowling ruffian.’
Anger stirred in Tara. How dare they talk of Callum as if he were some juicy piece of meat and them a pack of slavering hounds to tear him apart or as if he was not good enough. They made no mention of Callum’s kindness, loyalty and soulful eyes. He was just muscle and strength to them. Would their lust for his body flatter him, or would he find it tiresome? She would soon find out, as Jennet was weaving her way towards Callum.
Unfortunately, Tara’s view was interrupted by a scarlet uniform. Her heart lurched in recognition.
‘Ladies,’ said Lieutenant Forster, bowing low, and they all fluttered their fans like little birds. His gaze flicked to Tara and away again, and she wanted the floor to swallow her.
‘Might I beg the next dance from you, Lady McNevin, with your husband’s leave,’ he said to Fenella.
‘I would be delighted, Lieutenant, and so would my husband, for he loves to watch me dance,’ she said, waving at a goaty old man who was leering at her from across the hall.
‘Only because he is too decrepit to do so himself,’thought Tara sourly, glancing in the direction of Laird McNevin, who was possibly the oldest man she had ever seen. He was as wrinkled as a prune and about as appealing.
It was as if the Lieutenant could read her thoughts for he smiled at her and winked. ‘Miss Hennaut,’ he said. ‘How wonderful to see you here. I do hope you have not been looting again.’
‘Looting?’ said Morag.
‘What’s this scandal?’ said Fenella. ‘Do you two know each other?’
‘Yes, but we met under less than pleasant circumstances,’ said the Lieutenant. ‘I had occasion to chastise my men who were accusing Miss Hennaut of looting her own property at Braecaple.’
‘I am sure it was an honest mistake, Lieutenant Forster,’ murmured Tara. ‘No harm done.’
‘On the contrary. My men were offensive, and they were punished accordingly.’
‘What did you do to them?’ said Morag, eager for the juicy details.
‘I had them flogged,’ he said, turning back to Tara. ‘Rest assured they will bear the scars of their rudeness for the rest of their lives. And to make further amends, I would beg a dance from you too this evening, Miss Hennaut.’
‘Oh, it is a little hot and crowded for me, and I am out of practice, Lieutenant.’
‘A little later then, when the evening has cooled, and I insist,’ he said, holding her gaze. ‘Ladies.’ He bowed and moved off.
‘Goodness, he is dashing,’ sighed Morag.
‘What an adventurous life you do lead, Miss Hennaut,’ sneered Fenella, narrowing her eyes. Her words dripped with contempt. ‘Looting, renegade soldiers. Quite scandalous goings on up at Braecaple, it would seem. Does the Lieutenant happen by a good deal?’
‘Talking of scandal. Look,’ said Morag, grabbing Fenella’s arm and pointing.
‘Goodness did she have to come?’ huffed Fenella in outrage, which thankfully diverted her from her teasing.