Page 79 of The Tartan Trap

Through her one eye hole, Margaret could see he was grinning down at her.

“I came to see you, of course.” He frowned and looked down the hall. “Your butler has already relieved me of my flowers, but I’m sure they’re around here somewhere.”

Margaret desperately tore the sheet from her person, bundled it quickly in her arms, and tossed it behind her. There was a crash—she’d knocked a potted plant from the sideboard. Her nose wrinkled with the force of her wince.

He grinned at her. “Hello, Margaret.”

“Hello.” She gave a little fingertip wave and immediately cursed herself an idiot.

But if anything, Callum seemed even more amused. “I came to see you early, as I won’t be able to attend visiting hours this afternoon. I have an important engagement with my steward, you see.”

“Ah,” Margaret said, nodding.

She didn’t know what else she should say to such a proclamation. I’ll miss you certainly seemed too forward, even though that was the truth.

Nor could she admit she’d been looking forward to seeing him, or that the hours would undoubtedly pass more slowly without him there.

Still dressed as a ghost and now carrying a plate piled high with biscuits, Rachel thrust her head from the parlor. “You should come for the dinner party tomorrow night, Your Grace.”

“I’d be honored. Where will it be held?”

“Here, of course.” Rachel selected a biscuit, then seemed to remember she’d failed to cut a hole for her mouth and dropped it again.

“You’re having a dinner party?” Callum cocked his head at Margaret.

She frowned at Rachel. “Apparently, though this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Six o’clock. I know it’s too early to be considered stylish, but we have to hand out character assignments.” With that enigmatic proclamation, Rachel disappeared back into the parlor.

“You don’t have to come if you’d rather not,” Margaret murmured. “To be honest, after this morning’s activities, I’m a bit frightened as to what she has planned.”

Callum grinned. “If you’re going to be there, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. We’ll face it together, whatever it is.”

Margaret didn’t know how to reply. Though Callum was always very forthright with his speech where she was concerned, she didn’t yet know how she felt. Even if she had, she doubted she’d have the courage to declare it.

“Ah, with all the excitement of the dinner party, I almost forgot.” Callum patted his jacket pocket and came up with a small, brown-paper parcel. “Here. These are for you.”

Margaret took it with a curious smile. “What is it?” she asked, even as she tore the paper.

A moment later, several metal objects slid out into her hand. There were perhaps a dozen altogether, but Margaret had no idea what they were. She held one up and examined it. Shining metal was shaped into a spiral with two ends that had been crimped back smoothly. It appeared that someone had taken great care in creating them, but Margaret couldn’t imagine their purpose.

“They’re pins,” he finally said. “For your hair.”

“Oh.” Margaret stared at them. “Thank you.”

Callum chuckled as if he’d heard her confusion. “They don’t work like normal hair pins. Think of them like a screw instead of a nail. They must be twisted in and twisted out, but I think they’ll be far sturdier for you than the ones you use.”

She examined them again with wonder. “Oh, I understand. How wonderful!”

“I tried them out and they did quite well.”

“Please tell me you didn’t try them on Albie,” she teased.

“He would have been a more willing volunteer, but it was Ellis, in the end.”

“Truly?” She grinned up at him.

“I told him it was a natural consequence of ignoring his valet’s exhortations. After we finished trying them out, he went straight upstairs and took a haircut.”