Page 81 of Promised to the Forbidden Laird

The hours passed in a blur of duties masquerading as pleasure. They judged a contest in which young men tried to hurl a heavy stone farther than good sense allowed. Roy watched each attempt with the solemn attention of a military commander, while Donaldina awarded the prize to a broad-shouldered shepherd whose final throw narrowly missed a table of pies.

“The table shouldnae have been placed there,” Roy said.

“The stone shouldnae have been thrown toward it.”

“The wind shifted.”

“The stone weighed more than the boy who threw it.”

“The wind was ambitious.”

Donaldina stared at him. He appeared entirely serious.

Later, they judged children’s archery. Roy knelt beside a girl who held the bow incorrectly and adjusted her fingers with unexpected patience. When the arrow struck the outer ring of the target, the child shouted as though she had conquered Edinburgh.

Donaldina watched Roy smile at her. It was the same unguarded expression she had witnessed in the stables, a rare softness which altered his whole face and made her heart ache with the knowledge that he still believed it necessary to hide.

The girl’s mother thanked him repeatedly. Roy stood and returned to Donaldina’s side.

“Ye are very popular,” she told him.

“She struck the target.”

“After ye moved it closer.”

“I adjusted it for the wind.”

“That ambitious wind?”

“The same.”

They visited the market stalls next. Merchants pressed samples into their hands as they passed. Donaldina tasted spiced apple cake, honeyed nuts and a cheese so sharp that Roy’s expression became almost reverent with suffering.

“It is excellent,” the merchant assured him.

Roy swallowed with difficulty. “Memorable.”

Donaldina accepted another piece simply to prove herself braver. Regret followed immediately.

Roy leaned nearer. “Excellent?”

She maintained a composed expression. “Exceptional.”

“Shall I purchase a wheel?”

“I will have ye arrested.”

His laugh was quiet, but several people turned at the sound. Donaldina became aware of the glances following them. They came from merchants, villagers, and clansmen alike. People watched when Roy placed a guiding hand at her back to steer her through the crowd. They smiled when Donaldina chose a length of blue ribbon and held it against his dark tunic, solemnly claiming that he required more color.

An old woman selling woven baskets caught Donaldina’s hand before they moved away.

“Ye make a fine pair,” she declared.

Donaldina felt heat rise beneath her skin. Roy, infuriatingly, appeared calm.

“The clans will prosper beneath ye both,” the woman continued.

“We are here only tae attend the festival,” Donaldina replied.