At that point, Callum froze and raised himself off her. There was a haunted look in his eyes as he stared down into her face. ‘See what you have reduced me to, Tara. See what you have done.’ He frowned. ‘You are making me a monster, and I will not have it.’
Callum eased himself off her and rolled to the edge of the bed. He put his forearm over his face. ‘Fly back to your nest, little bird, where you are safe. I will not harm you this night nor any other.’
Tara found she could not move. Half of her wanted to run back to her chamber and bolt the door. The other half wanted to wrap her arms about Callum and hold him, warm and solid, against her. For some reason, she wanted to comfort him, and for him to comfort her. The thunder crashed again, making her flinch.
Callum turned and snarled at her. ‘Go, I said. Get out.’ Tara leapt off the bed and ran back to her chamber, crashing the door shut. Her shaking fingers fumbled with the bolt, and once she had slid it across, she leaned her head back on the door, breathing hard.
She was a coward and a fool. If he hadn’t been so angry, if he hadn’t been drinking, she could have done as Orla had suggested. Yes, she could have found the courage to seduce the calm, quiet, gentle Callum. But the angry man in that chamber with blood on his hands was not Callum, so her courage had failed her, as it always did.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Two days of fraught silence had passed, with each of them avoiding the other and neither confronting what had happened the night of the storm. Tara was mortified at her failed attempt at seduction, and she suspected that Callum was ashamed of his anger – or at least she hoped he was because his scorn was not fair.
She clung onto her saddle with an ache in her rump as they trotted along the path towards Sedgemoor Manor and Callum’s aunt - Meg Mortimer. She wondered why he had insisted on her coming if he despised her so.
They came to the crest of a hill, and Callum called a halt. Tara gasped in awe, for before them spread a wide stretch of water, snaking between looming hills. The water was as dark and brooding as her husband. Staring at the vast loch reaching southwards, Tara felt a chill along her spine for there was something sinister and ancient about it, sitting under a sky leaden with clouds.
‘That is Loch Ness, lass,’ he said. ‘My aunt is but five miles from this point, so we have made good time.’
‘Callum, can we not stop awhile to rest the horses?’ said Tara, hopefully.
‘Aye, if you like,’ he said.
Tara felt they must have some conversation before they met his aunt. ‘I will be thankful to get off and stretch my legs, for I am not a good rider, and I don’t sit comfortably in the saddle as you do.’
‘Why is that? Why do you not ride well?’ he asked.
It felt like an accusation. Callum thought she was falling short of what was expected of her – in bed and out of it. An ember of rebellion sparked to life. ‘There was little call for riding in my life back at Truro, Callum. I stayed within the town’s boundaries for the most part, and my uncle rarely let me venture further afield,’ she said tartly.
‘You may be a novice rider now, but you can learn, with practice, and perhaps come to enjoy the pursuit.’ Callum gave her a searching look – frustration married to sadness. ‘Aye, you can learn to relish many things if you would but try.’
‘I am trying,’ she snapped. ‘And I have ridden a long way today without complaint.’
‘Without complaint. Well, if that is as good as it gets, so be it. And I suppose, in your way, you are trying. You have learnt to tolerate it, at least.’
Was he talking about riding or something else? Tara had the cold feeling that their conversation had just veered onto dangerous ground. They stood in silence with just the howl of wind coming off the loch, rustling the bracken. Tara looked at Callum’s stern face and quailed, but she spoke anyway.
‘Greaves told me to stay clear of Loch Ness. He said it was a place of bad omens and held unspeakable horrors in its depths.’
‘Aye, ‘tis true. Loch Ness is said to contain mystical creatures called waterhorses. They are said to rise from the depths and drag fishermen to their doom.’ Callum smiled a little, and it was as if the sun had come out. ‘I remember when I spent summers at my aunt’s, and sometimes Bryce accompanied me. We would dare each other to swim out as far as we could to the deeper water. One day, Bryce went ahead of me, and he started splashing and screaming, ‘Help. The beast of the loch has hold of me.’
‘And did it?’ said Tara in horrid fascination.
‘No,’ laughed Callum. ‘Twas some water plant or other, wrapped about his ankle, but he twisted and struggled so much that he was held fast. I had to dive down and free him.’
The wind wafted Callum’s thick brown hair across his face, and he raked a hand through it. Such a simple thing, but Tara was getting used to his habits, and that was one of his most endearing. He had others which were not.
‘Twas strange though, lass,’ he continued, frowning. ‘While my head was under, I opened my eyes, and a huge shadow was moving at the edge of my vision, in the dark water beneath me. My heart almost stopped. I can’t, to this day, say what it was. A shoal of fish or something else, but suffice to say, I never wanted to swim there again, nor did Bryce.’ Callum smiled at her, and it seemed the ice between them had thawed a little. ‘Come. We must make haste, or we will lose the light, and I will have scared you half to death.’
‘I don’t scare so easily since meeting you,’ said Tara, not quite knowing what she meant.
He stared down at her and placed a kiss on her forehead. It was unexpected and welcome. At least if they were friends, she had an ally when facing his aunt. But Callum had said she was old and in her dotage, so perhaps she would be kind and an ally too.
***
Sedgemoor Manor was a bleak, three-storey high tower house set in woodland. Tall pines behind the house cast shadows against its mould-blackened walls, and it did not seem welcoming at all.
Nor was its host. Meg Mortimer was no soft, kind-eyed old lady. She was tall, whip-thin, and had skin as wrinkled as a rotten apple. There were gaps where many of her teeth had been, which gave her a fearsome snarl of a smile, and it was bestowed only on Callum. Tara received a glare and a slow survey from eyes as steely black as coal.