The pair spun and twirled, laughing loudly at one thing or the other.
“He’s a good lad, that one,” Michael mused, nodding his head in the direction of Cody and Abigail.
“Seems like it,” Arthur murmured, hoping the other Laird didn’t hear the lie in his voice.
He paused for a moment. There was something he had been wondering about throughout the night but hadn’t had the opportunity to ask about yet.
But Michael seemed like the amenable type. So, he decided to risk it.
“Freya seems quite young to—” Arthur began, but Michael quickly cut him off.
“Nae, he isnae Freya’s,” he explained hastily. “I was married before. She passed before I met Freya. A fire.”
Arthur dipped his head. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Michael looked at him with no hint of sadness in his eyes, only a deep acceptance. “It’s been a long time.”
“Doesnae always cure things,” Arthur explained. “Especially nae when it comes to matters of the heart.”
Michael shook his head. “It wasnae like that with us. We were friendly and respected each other. But there was nay love between us.”
“Still,” Arthur persisted, “doesnae make it easier. It also must’ve been hard for the bairn.” He nodded his head in Cody’s direction.
Michael barked a laugh. “Aye,” he responded. “Nae that he would admit it. Headstrong, he is. But he is fiercely protective of the lasses.”
“Marissa?”
Michael nodded. “And Abigail. The younger sister that was sittin’ beside her and is now out there twirlin’ with them.”
Arthur turned his attention toward the dance floor. Sure enough, the young woman he had spotted sitting beside Marissa and looking at him quizzically was dancing with them.
“They’re close, then?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
He wanted to know more about the woman he was going to marry. He had read as many of the letters as he could as he traveled toward Castle McEwan. But there was still so much more to learn.
“Aye, as thick as can be.” Once again, Michael pointed toward the trio dancing in the center of the dance floor. “The boy considers them his sisters, even though they’re technically his aunts. Abigail and Cody are just a year apart—only a few years younger than Marissa. They leaned on each other as we all got used to one another after the marriage.”
Arthur nodded.
When Cody had first challenged him, he’d thought the lad had been jealous. He’d had no idea of the family connection between them.
He wasn’t entirely certain it changed the way he felt about the entire interaction, nor did it change the way he felt about the young man. Arthur had never taken kindly to jealousy, or people who were overly attached to things that were his.
And if he was to marry Marissa, thatwouldmake her his.
With that thought echoing in his mind, Arthur excused himself from the table and made his way to the dance floor.
In the short time that the music had been playing, the space had filled. The throngs of bodies closed in on him as he made his way to where he’d last seen Marissa.
At first, he thought it would be near impossible to find her as he made his way through the crowd. She’d been easy enough to spot while outside the dance floor. But now that he was in it, it was chaos.
The heat of many bodies pressed in on him, sweat breaking out along his back.
Still, Arthur searched for her. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking anywhere that he could for a glimpse of her auburn curls. But no matter where he looked, there was no sign of her.
Just when he thought that it was a lost cause and that he would have to exit the crowd and regroup, a gap between two groups of people formed.
Marissa was standing directly in the center of it. She had her dress hiked up around her shins, her feet moving in a blur as she and Abigail spun while Cody clapped his hands. The smile on her face was radiant, lighting her up from within as it threatened to split her cheeks.
