As Gabriella practiced,her initial clumsiness gradually gave way to more fluid movements. Still, the prospect of performing these steps before the entire clan filled her with dread.
“What if I make a mistake?”she asked, her voice betraying her fear. “Everyone will be watchin’.”
“Ye’ll nae be alone,”Andrea reminded her. “Hector will lead ye through it. He’s known this dance since childhood.”
“Waituntil ye reach the Promise moment,” Erica said with a meaningful glance at her mother. “That’s when the real magic happens.”
“The Promise moment?”Gabriella repeated, pausing mid-step.
Andrea nodded.“At the dance’s climax, the music falls away, and the couple must share a private promise. One spoken softly so only they can hear it. It seals their commitment before the celebration truly begins.”
“What sort of promise?”Gabriella asked, her mouth suddenly dry.
“That’s between husband and wife,”Andrea said with a gentle smile. “Each couple chooses their own. Me husband promised to bring me wildflowers every spring, and he never once failed, even in our last year together.”
“It doesnae have to be grand,”Erica added. “Just genuine.”
Genuine.
The word hungin the air between them, a small knife twisting in Gabriella’s conscience.
After Andreaand Erica finally departed, promising to return the next day to continue her lessons, Gabriella sank onto the edge of her bed, exhaustion and anxiety warring within her.
The Dance of Promise.A public display that would require her to move in perfect harmony with Hector, allowing him to hold her, turn her, and guide her before the watchful eyes of his entire clan. And at its heart, a moment of intimacy where promises were exchanged—promises meant to last a lifetime.
She closed her eyes,remembering how her body had responded when Hector helped her dismount the previous day, the heat that flared between them when their eyes met across the dinner table. This dance would demand that same closeness, but sustained, deliberate, witnessed by all.
And what promisewould she give him in that sacred moment? What lie would she whisper as his clan looked on, believing they witnessed the sealing of a real marriage?
Gabriella pressedher hands to her face, shame washing over her. Andrea and Erica had welcomed her with open hearts, sharing family treasures and traditions meant for a true McCulloch bride. With each preparation, each lesson, and each story shared, the deception grew more painful to keep up.
Yet most troublingof all was the small, treacherous part of her that wondered what it might be like if this marriage were real—if the promise she spoke during their dance could be one she actually intended to keep.
18
The iron-bound door banged against the stone wall as Hector marched into the dungeons, his face a mask of barely contained fury. The guard jumped to attention, nearly dropping the keys he’d been holding.
“Laird McCulloch! I wasnae expectin’ye.”
“The prisoners.”Hector did not break stride. “Now.”
“Aye, Me Laird.”The guard fumbled with the ring of keys, hurrying to unlock the heavy door that led to the cells below.
Torchlight castlong shadows as Hector descended the narrow stone steps, the chilly air carrying the unmistakable smell of damp stone and human misery. The two men captured at the market sat in separate cells, both looking up with expressions that shifted from defiance to fear as they recognized who had come to call.
“Leave us,”Hector ordered the guard, who hesitated only briefly before retreating up the stairs.
Angus,the lankier of the two, pressed himself against the far wall of his cell. The other man, the brute whose nose Hector had broken in the market, glared with sullen hatred, though he too maintained his distance from the bars.
“Good mornin’,gentlemen,” Hector greeted, his voice deceptively soft as he moved to stand between the cells. “I trust ye’ve been enjoyin’ our hospitality.”
“Ye’venay right to hold us,” the brute growled. “We’ve done nothin’ wrong.”
Hector’s handshot through the bars so quickly the man had no time to retreat. Fingers closing around his throat, Hector grabbed his throat and slammed the prisoner’s head against the bars.
“Ye attemptedto abduct a woman under me protection,” he said, his tone still conversational despite his white-knuckled grip. “That alone would earn ye a hangin’ in these parts.”
He released the man,who slumped to his knees, gasping.
