‘You were looking at that lass as if you could gobble her up with a spoon. And you still look like a man hit by a poleaxe. It is a wonder her uncle did not chastise you for it.’
‘We met while I was wallowing in the muck like a hog. Not the most auspicious of occasions. I have no doubt that Tara Hennaut thinks me a very low person indeed.’
Bryce guffawed into his ale. ‘Aye, you’ve no more chance of getting in her skirts than becoming England’s next King,’ laughed Bryce.
‘I don’t want to get in her skirts. That is your particular skill, not mine,’ snapped Callum.
Bryce bumped shoulders with Callum. ‘Aye, none can rival my prowess in these parts.’
‘I thought you were a changed man these days since your father’s ultimatum to find a wife or get disinherited?’
‘Changed, not gelded, my friend. Stabled, I may be, but I am ever longing for a good gallop. Now, let us return to you, Callum, for I’ll not spare your blushes, my friend. How do you know the achingly-beautiful Miss Tara Hennaut?’
‘I came across their carriage mired in the mud on my way home from a night spent in the tavern with you. I helped push it free.’
‘Did you now? Well, that lass has the looks of a blonde angel, and you were staring at her like a hawk at a mouse. Oh, the infatuation must be very hard, indeed. But if they are indebted to you, why was that old man so frosty?’
‘No doubt, he thinks I am a ruffian.’
‘Not far wrong there, I suppose.’
‘And as I said, I did not look my best when we met. I had been up all night and was not in my finest clothes.’
Bryce frowned. ‘Do you even own any fine clothes?’
Callum sighed, quaffed his ale, and settled in for a long interrogation. ‘I have little need of them, nor do I have time for flirting and small talk, unlike you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you have that unctuous charm which makes lasses lose their wits.’
‘Whereas you, Callum, avoid women like the plague and can only bark at them when they show an interest.’
Callum shrugged. ‘And why not? Most lasses rarely have anything interesting to say, nor are they interested in what I have to say.’
‘Yet you were interested in that lass. Can’t blame you, for she was a beauty. I’d wager you’d not find a finer face anywhere in the Highlands.’
‘Aye, but was it absolutely necessary for you to flirt with her, Bryce?’
‘Why not? You were making a woeful job of it, and neither of us has the slightest chance of taking her to bed.’
‘I would thank you not to speak of her that way,’ snapped Callum.
‘Alright, but can I not pretend it is in the cause of finding a bride. Listen, my Uncle Dunbar is having a gathering in a few weeks. Perhaps I can get him to invite the Hennauts. If that Tara lass comes, I will flirt with her. My father will have a fit of the vapours if he thinks I am about to seduce an Englishwoman. It might get me out of his plan to marry me off.’
Callum gave his friend a steely glare. ‘You will not flirt with Tara Hennaut at that gathering or anywhere else, or you’ll get a taste of my fist. Do you hear me?’
‘Calm yourself, friend. I know she is taken, in your eyes, at least. I must own that she was looking at you. Did you notice? Not sure if it was with interest, or in horror, like a fly fixed on the approach of a spider. The lass is not easy to read. She was probably wondering why you kept staring at her and not saying anything.’
‘I’m not good with words, Bryce.’
‘No, you are not. And such a beauty would be used to eager young men pursuing her, paying her compliments. But whether it was lust or loathing for you on her part, you’ve no hope of getting close enough to impress her. It is clear as day that uncle of hers thinks himself far above us.’
‘So it’s best we talk of something else. I hear there were ten head of cattle taken from the McTaggarts on the last full moon.’
But Bryce was not listening. ‘My Uncle Dunbar is rich and well set up, so Ralph Hennaut is sure to be tempted by that, so he will most definitely accept an invitation to the gathering.'
Callum’s patience snapped. ‘I wonder at you and all these gathering and balls, Bryce. How can you stand all the small talk and insincerity? Surely, you have better things to do.’