Page 89 of The Highland Laird’s Hellion Bride

“Old Tam is tall.”

Elspeth stepped forward before Duncan could say whatever remark was building behind his grin. “Right. Show me what ye remember.”

Magnus looked at the floor, at her, at the floor again, then held out one hand. She took it.

What followed was not dancing. It was something adjacent to drilling, performed by a very large man who called out positions like he was directing a siege.

“One, forward. Two, left. Left. That’s… aye. Three, turn.” He executed the turn with military precision and nearly knocked Elspeth’s chin with his shoulder. “Four, together.”

“Magnus.” Elspeth stepped back a half-inch to preserve her nose. “The steps follow the music, nae the other way round.”

“The steps follow a specific order.”

“Aye, but the order follows the beat.”

“I’m keepin’ the beat.”

“The fiddle is keepin’ the beat. Ye’re keepin’ a different beat. A slower one. A battle march, possibly.”

Behind him, Katherine turned toward the wall, her shoulders shaking.

“One, forward,” Magnus said again, undeterred.

“Magnus.”

“Two, left.”

“Will ye please listen to the music and go with the flow.”

“Three.” He turned Elspeth sharply, and she stumbled a half-step. His hand tightened at her back to catch her. “Four.”

“I’m the one who’s supposed to be led,” she said to his collarbone, which was where her face had ended up.

“Ye are bein’ led.”

“Into a post.”

“The post was poorly placed.”

Liam, leaning against the far wall with his arms folded, said nothing. His face said enough.

They went round twice more. Magnus counted. Elspeth abandoned any hope of redirecting him and simply tried to stay out of range of his boots, which were large and had already found her left foot once with an apologetic grunt that she suspected was the closest he’d come to an apology.

“Ye’re thinkin’ too much about all this,” she told him on the fourth pass.

“I’m thinkin’ exactly the right amount.”

“Nay, ye’re thinkin’ about the steps. Stop thinkin’ about the steps; ye keep making mistakes.”

“If I stop thinkin’ about the steps, I’ll miss the steps.”

“If ye keep thinkin’ about the steps, ye’ll drop me before we reach the turn.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, and looked down at her. His hand shifted at her waist. She settled her own more firmly on his shoulder.

“Look at me,” she said. “Nae the floor.”

“I ken where the floor is, and that it’s what helps me ken where next to go. It’s simple logic.”