‘Indeed, I cannot account for it. I thought we had said all that we needed to at our last encounter,’ said Tara coldly, trying to buy some time and put him off.
Callum ran a hand across his hair. ‘Aye, and I have struggled over whether I should come here today, for I know you have not always been fond of me.’
Tara said nothing to contradict him, hating the longing on his face and loath to hurt him with her mask of indifference. Yet, inside, she was anything but indifferent. The man speaking in hesitant words before her could be a safe haven from her troubles. Callum had sometimes been kind in his gruff way and gentle enough with her. But she could not lie and pretend something she did not feel. The fact that he should declare feelings on so short an acquaintance, and the vehemence of his affections, frightened her.
Callum shifted awkwardly, rubbing his palms together. ‘In truth, you may not be fond of me, but I am fond of you, Tara Hennaut.’ He took a deep breath. ‘And to this end, I would make you my wife.’
A horrible sinking feeling took Tara’s stomach, and fear beat like a drum in her breast. ‘Laird Ross, I think you are mistaken in your feelings for me.’ Her breath caught, and she had to steady herself to continue. ‘I do not deserve such regard.’
He stepped forward and grabbed one of her hands in his huge one. It was warm and rough. ‘I have tried to distance myself, but since your uncle’s death, I feel I must act.’
Tara could scarcely look at him. ‘On one kiss, you decide we should marry?’ she said.
He smiled at her, his face suddenly warm, earnest and appealing. ‘T’was more than one, as I recall, and it felt like everything I ever wanted in this life.’
Did he really feel that way? Was it so different for men, for she was ashamed of what she had felt in Callum’s arms and where her recklessness might have led her? Tara tugged her hand free, and his face fell. What was she to say to this man who frightened her with his regard and had made her heart gallop with his kisses? She could not use him or lie and treat him like a fool.
The silence hung between them, building like thunder.
‘I am not good with words,’ said Callum. ‘But I would tell you that it has been my hope to wed for some time now. And, lass, you have nothing and no one and need a man to support you. It is not good to be without a protector, and I would be that for you. I know we have fallen out over the violence of my passion for you, but I can be gentler, more restrained, I swear. So I offer myself as a husband and implore you to consider my suit.’
What should she say? She could not offend or hurt him.
‘I am wealthy, in good health, and I would not take a hand to you as some men do,’ he continued.
Tara frowned, for she had never considered the possibility that he might do that.
‘I flatter myself that I am strong and capable, Tara. I have a home at Raigmoor, and aye, it is a little rough, but better than that cottage you bided in. And you can make it your own and more suited to a woman’s taste, whatever you like.’
Tara took a step back. ‘Laird Ross, please, you shame me. You cannot know the depths to which I have ….’
‘Don’t fash. That old viper, Mistress Shaw, mentioned a debt attached to your name, which I am prepared to clear so that you need not carry it with you.’
‘Please, Laird Ross. Stop.’
‘Aye. Forgive me. It is coarse of me to mention the debt. I don’t know why I did, for it is nought to me. I would pay it a hundred times over just to have you.’
At the limits of her forbearance, an ember of rebellion sparked to life in Tara. Must she always be at the whim of others and accept the path laid out for her? Why must she be responsible for doing what others needed?
‘Do you offer for me out of pity, Laird Ross?’ she said with a frown.
Callum took a step forward and towered over her. ‘Anyone would pity your situation, of course, but that is not why I am here throwing my heart at your feet. It is because, from the first moment I saw you, I could not stop thinking about you. Tara, you have haunted my dreams these last months, and I love you most passionately.’
Oh, God. Not love, surely he could not feel that?
‘Say something, lass.’ His tone was urgent now, harder.
‘You once said I should be humbled, Laird Ross. Do you remember your words? ‘It is time someone humbled you, Tara Hennaut. Your situation demands it.’ And is this how you mean to do it? By making me marry you?’
‘Humble you? I mean to raise you by making you my wife, not bring you lower. And I am standing here like a fool because I love you. I am not making you do anything.’
She bit her lip hard to maintain her composure. ‘I thank you for honouring me with your proposal, Laird Ross, but I cannot accept it.’
‘Why?’ he growled, starting forward and then stopping himself.
‘Because we are strangers.’
‘After what we shared, I think we are a little more than that.’