She narrowed her eyes. “Forbade me to do what?”
“Nothing.”
“Nay, daenaenothingme, man. What did ye forbid me to do?”
He heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes to the heavens. “I forbade ye to visit the village on yer own. Ye werenae happy.”
“Well, that does sound like me.” She drew her lower lip between her teeth. “I daenae want to dance out there, where everybody can see me and stare.”
“Of course nae. I thought we could dance here. We can hear the music, and there’s privacy. What do ye say?”
He rose to his feet, lifting his eyebrows, and extended a hand.
Skye gave a tentative smile. Clambering to her feet, she placed her palm in his. “Aye,” she murmured.
He drew her close, the two of them poised to begin.
Why do I nae feel ill at ease or uncomfortable? Why do I feel… safe?
Her mind blurred, dizziness taking over, making the interior of the tent spin. Images flashed behind her eyes—something that wasn’t really there, not now, buthadbeen there.
A memory.
One Year Ago
Creighton made the introductions, gesturing to Skye. She stepped forward, her eyes fixed on Laird Bryden.
“Me cousin, Skye. She’s the sister of Laird MacCrimmon, as I’m sure ye ken,” Creighton said briskly.
His gaze kept wandering to the woman Laird Bryden had brought for the bride swap, a tall redhead. The woman was not particularly pretty, in Skye’s opinion, but she had an even, clear stare that spoke of a strong character. She’d have to be a strong character to manage Creighton, certainly.
“She’s agreed to enter into a betrothal with ye,” her cousin continued, focusing on the task at hand, “but the choice will be hers as to whether she’ll wed ye or nae.”
“Understood,” Laird Bryden answered. He glanced at her, his gaze inquisitive, and she returned his stare steadily. She did not smile or nod back.
Did he ken that his faither wanted to kill mine? Did he ken about his faither’s treason? The man worked with the English and nearly crippled the other clans!
She could think about that later. For now, Creighton busied himself with his fake-betrothed. Her name was Nora Lane, apparently, and she wasn’t related to Laird Bryden in any way. She wasn’t even a lady. She was a healer.
If I were Creighton, I’d be offended.
Her cousin didn’t seem offended. He was staring hungrily at the woman, and she stared right back, wide-eyed and fascinated.
Skye turned her attention back to her own problem and found Laird Bryden already staring at her. She flashed a wide smile and hoped that he could not tell it was insincere.
“I hope we willnae leave before we’ve enjoyed the festivities. Do ye care to dance? I love dancing.”
He blinked. “I daenae love it, but I can dance if ye would like.”
Well, that was a surprising start. She hadn’t imagined that he would give up his preferences so easily.
She gave a more sincere smile. “Aye, I’d like that very much.”
It soon became clear that Creighton was not staying and that he planned to hustle his lass away as soon as possible.
This is it, then,Skye thought, her heart pounding.The year begins.
She forced herself to turn away from Creighton to avoid something humiliating, like bursting into tears and running after him. She caught Laird Bryden staring down at her, his dark eyebrows drawn together.
