Page 53 of Marry in Haste
They went.
But he heard Lily say, “He doesn’t mean that, either, George.”
“He does. He’s threatened to starve me, twice.” George sounded aggrieved.
“Yes, but did he actuallydoit?” Lily asked. “No, of course not. Cal’s our big brother and even though he tries to hide it, he loves us and takes care of us. All of us.”
***
The girls took the lantern with them, leaving Cal in the kitchen, in the dark. In more ways than one.
He loves us and takes care of us. All of us.
Where would she get such an idea? He’d never even mentioned the wordloveto any of the girls, so it didn’t make sense.
Nor did that nonsense about giving them piggyback rides when they were little. It was just a piggyback ride, not a declaration of love. A lot of piggyback rides, now that he came to think of it. The girls had always demanded it, on the few occasions he was home. It was just something he did.
Was that why they disobeyed him so easily? Because they imagined he loved them and so would forgive them anything? Aunt Dottie too?
Females. Imagining everything revolved around love.
It was his duty, as a brother, an uncle and now head of the family, to look after the girls. If there was one thing Cal understood, it was responsibility. He’d had it drummed into him all his life.
But love? He was a stranger to the emotion. He couldn’t even remember his mother; she’d died when he was a toddler. As a young boy he’d spent hours staring at her portrait,trying to remember her, wondering what she’d thought of him, what she’d been like, but all he had were servants’ tales. He’d never talked about her to Henry or his father. It wasn’t that his father had forbidden it, as such; it was just... not done.
As for his father, he’d felt a deep regard for him, but he’d been a distant, exacting and cold-natured parent, more concerned with obedience than love.
Had Cal loved him? He didn’t know.
He thought of his friend Galbraith, who openly admitted he loved his grandfather—enough to marry a woman he didn’t particularly care for, just to ease the old man’s passing from this world.
Would Cal sacrifice himself for his father that way? He considered the possibility and decided he might. But it would be duty, rather than love.
Would he sacrifice himself for the girls and Aunt Dottie? He’d lay down his life for them if they were in any kind of danger, of course, but then he was used to risking his life for others. It was a soldier’s life. King and country, or his family—it wasn’t much different. One did what one had to.
But love? He’d had liaisons with women over the years, but the strongest he’d ever felt was fondness. They’d been practical arrangements from the start, and he’d always taken good care of them. None of them had loved him. If they had, they’d never mentioned it.
He’d always been glad of that. He wouldn’t know what to do with a lovelorn mistress. Several of his friends had been entangled in affairs of the heart—unrequited love on one side or the other. It was messy. Undignified.
Cal probably took after his father and Henry. Naturally coldhearted and not particularly lovable.
The only person who’d ever loved him was Aunt Dottie, and Aunt Dottie loved everyone. He was fond of the women of his family—though possibly not Aunt Agatha. Could one be fond of a dragon?
But he had to do something about the girls. It was clear they would continue on their own merry way, flouting his rules whenever it suited them, secure in the illusion of his love andforgiveness. His father would have had them beaten for such disobedience, but Cal couldn’t bring himself to do that.
He needed someone who they wouldknowdidn’t love them, someone they respected who could control them.
Someone like that long-legged, cool-voiced teacher.
Chapter Ten
Whether they give or refuse, it delights women just the same to have been asked.
—OVID,AMORES
“I’ll triple your salary.”
One of Miss Emmaline Westwood’s finely arched brows rose in a look of mild interest. “Triple?” She smoothed the lace gloves enclosing her long, slender fingers, cool as new-made butter.
