“Sometimes pretending for too long makes it real.”
Those words kept echoing in his head.
But why do I keep doing it?
Everything James had said might not have landed as hard as it did if it hadn’t been for the fact that Leo was already having trouble keeping Beatrice out of his thoughts. He saw her in his mind’s eye when he was trying to sleep. He remembered how soft she felt under his palms, how supple her mouth was when hekissed her. She was reactive, alive, and more vibrant when she was in his arms.
Or maybe that’s just me imagination. Maybe that’s just me lustin’ after a bonnie lass and nae thinkin’ clearly.
He half growled, half sighed, and leaned back into the soft leather. Keeping Beatrice out of his thoughts was an impossible task, so for the time being, he didn’t even try.
“Och, there ye are,” Beatrice heard a voice call as she, Eloise, and Effie were coming up with silly, flouncy dances on the terrace that ran along the Great Hall. She hadn’t expected to see Violet, but the woman was smiling as she approached them.
“We were inventing dances for the cèilidh. The dances I’ve seen are so boring,” Effie said.
“Yer father would lose his mind if he heard ye say that about the traditional dances.” Violet laughed.
“I read a book about how they dance in Spain one time,” Beatrice revealed.
Violet arched an eyebrow. “Aye, but the Spaniards have different hips than the Scots.”
Eloise laughed. Suddenly, Effie took Beatrice's hands in her own and began spinning them both around in a whirlwind.
That did nothing to settle Beatrice's nerves or stomach.
“Give me a moment, Effie,” she said, slowing the girl down. “I’m feelin’ a bit dizzy.”
“Ye all right, Beatrice?” Violet asked, her eyebrow still arched.
“Nothin' to be worried about.” Beatrice rested a hand on her stomach. “Just nae up to being spun around at the moment.”
Violet took a step closer and pressed the back of her hand to Beatrice's forehead. “Ye daenae feel warm.”
Eloise took Beatrice by the arm and pulled her aside so she was between her and Violet.
Oh goodness. What is happenin’ to me?
“I just feel a little strange.”
Violet put her other hand on Beatrice's shoulder and squeezed it.
“Ye should lie down, Beatrice. I’ll take care of Effie.”
Beatrice felt reluctant to leave them but knew Violet was right.
“Go on! Ye’re probably just tired,” Violet urged further. “Go and get some rest while ye can.”
“Aye, I’m tired,” Beatrice finally admitted and walked away on heavy feet after taking her leave.
But she couldn’t help but think that all these strange feelings—her trouble sleeping, the way her body seemed to give out and betray her at any moment—meant something bigger than she could understand.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Her mother was excited to accompany her and Leo to the seamstress’s for her fitting.
Her father was in his usual sour mood when Leo announced they were going into the village, but her mother gave two quick claps and smiled at the news.
“Ye’re going to look so bonnie,” she cooed.
