“I need to talk to me sister,” Violet said, stepping towards Hannah before the words could fully escape her mouth.
Connor said nothing and let her go anyway.
She did not look back. Then, just before Hannah reached for her hand, her gaze cut briefly to him across the room.
She still looked flushed and struck by his confession. She was his wife now in name, but it was nowhere near the way he wanted to have her. Every inch of her.
The hunger he had dragged with him into the wedding lingered in his loins, and he hated that it could have this much effect on him.
He watched anyway as she joined her sister, hoping they would discuss how he had spared her the fluster of the kiss.
Perhaps she would tell her about his dream as well. It was hard to know.
The music drifted up to the rafters, bright and quick, with a fiddle setting the pace while a drum marked the beat beneath it.
Violet watched as servants moved between tables with cups of ale and wine while men in corners lifted their cups in a toast. She stood beside Hannah and accepted it all with her teeth bare and white.
“Blessings upon ye, Lady Moore,” an older woman said, dipping her head.
Violet smiled. “Thank ye.”
Lady Moore.
The name landed hard every time. It did not matter that she had heard it already after the vows. Here, in the din of the cèilidh, with half the clan watching how she stood, smiled, breathed,and held her hands, it became less like a title and more like a garment someone had fastened too tightly around her ribs.
A man she did not know raised his cup from the end of a nearby table. “To the Laird and his Lady.”
Several voices answered, and Violet gently lowered her head in response.
She did not look toward Connor, but then, that was the usual mistake, wasn’t it? Refusing to look made him larger in the room.
Hannah stood close enough by her side to keep her steady without fussing. One hand rested lightly on the back of a chair while her face remained composed. Violet, however, could feel the weight of her attention.
“Ye are smiling like yer teeth are in a beauty contest,” Hannah muttered.
Violet smiled at a passing guest. “What can I say? I like to show them off.”
“Please. The only reason ye can show them off now is that ye spent more time inside than out.”
Violet almost laughed and caught it in time. Laughter would loosen too much. The whole day had been held together by pins,fabric, breath, and the stubborn refusal to think about Connor leaning close to her after the vows.
“I’ve been dreaming about that kiss every single night.”
Her fingers tightened around the cup a servant had handed her earlier, which she had still not drunk from.
Nay.Nae now.
A servant approached and leaned close to Hannah. She listened, nodded, then turned to Violet. “Moira says John has settled.”
Violet’s shoulders lowered before she could stop them. “Good.”
“Ye see?” Hannah said gently. “One person in this castle has some sense.”
“John is a baby. He has nothing,” Violet responded, lifting her cup and pretending to look anywhere.
At the musicians, perhaps, or at the elders who came together to talk in hushed tones. Even at the door. She should look anywhere. Anywhere but athim.
Her gaze betrayed her anyway.
