Tara did not reply, for she sensed Callum’s anger in the stiff way he held himself, touching her just enough to stop her from falling, as if he found her repellent in some way.
When they eventually reached the cottage, there was only a weak glow from the dying fire to see by. Tara was so stiff with cold that she could not dismount, and Callum cursed, tore her from the horse and set her down. She pushed out of his grip and rushed inside the cottage, fully intending to bar the door to him, but he put a foot against it and came in after her.
‘You must go, Callum,’ she said.
He glared. ‘Not until you find a candle and I get that fire banked.’ He stormed over to the embers and began piling wood on top. The fire sputtered back to life, and they stood in silence, watching it swell and belch smoke. Tara found a candle and lit it, sending shadows over the rough walls, exposing the cottage’s dreary interior. Callum looked around him and frowned. Now that he could see the extent of her poverty, she could not meet his eye, for it shamed her to be seen in such dire straits.
‘Do you have any whisky? I could do with a dram,’ he barked.
‘No. We do not.’
‘Drunk it all, has he?’ said Callum.
How dare he look down his nose at her and her kin. ‘Do not stand in my home and disparage my uncle, Callum Ross. You have the fire lit, so you can go now.’
‘No.’ Callum took a step closer.
Tara wrapped her arms about herself, suddenly afraid. ‘What do you mean, no? Why are you being so loathsome and overbearing?’
‘When are you moving to the main house, lass? I see no repairs being undertaken to it.’
‘We will repair it soon, and it is no concern of yours. And how would you know? Have you been spying on us?’
‘I pass by from time to time. Remember, my land borders yours.’
‘Then stay on your side of it, and don’t come here again.’
‘Rest assured, I won’t come again. And I’ve no need to spy on you, Tara. Folk hereabouts are nosy. They gossip about newcomers, as they will about events this evening.’
Callum took another step towards her. ‘That dress becomes you, Miss Hennaut, but you look thin and careworn since last I saw you.’ He glanced at her reddened hands, and Tara hid them in the folds of her skirts, hoping he would not see.
‘I wonder that your uncle does not take rooms in Inverness until the main house is made sound. He certainly enjoys its taverns and gambling houses, a folly which has led him down a hole he cannot climb out of.’
Tara swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Did you not know that he squanders his money on such pursuits when he should be here looking out for your welfare?’
‘My welfare. As if you care. You spread vile rumours about me, didn’t you?’
‘What are you talking about, woman?’ said Callum, coming closer.
‘Fenella and her friends were laughing at me tonight, and it was when the subject of you came up. They made snide remarks about you. Did you tell them what happened in the barn?’
‘I did no such thing. I kept my counsel on what passed between us, Tara.’
‘You are lying. You spread vile rumours about my honour. I am sure of it.’
Callum barged right up to her. ‘If there are rumours about your lack of virtue, then they are about you and that slimy Hew Gordon. And after what I just saw, I would hold that they might be true.’
Tara slapped Callum’s face hard, and he grabbed her wrist in an iron grip. ‘Never do that again.’ Then his grip softened, and his anger seemed to dissolve into something more dangerous as his stormy grey eyes held hers. ‘Tell me the truth. Do you want him, lass?’ he hissed.
‘Of course not. Was that not obvious?’
‘So who do you want - that oily Lieutenant who pays court to you?’
‘No. I barely know him.’
‘Yet you smile and simper and give him encouragement. What is wrong with you? Those others, they do not care for you as I do. They prey on your innocence, but you will not see that any more than you will see that I am sincere in my regard. You are a fool, Tara Hennaut, a blind little fool.’