Page 83 of Promised to the Forbidden Laird

“The stable hands witnessed the aftermath.”

“They believed the rope slipped.”

“They believed I ordered them tae believe it.”

The dance carried them closer again. Around them, the crowd clapped in rhythm. Lanterns swayed above the square. The scent of apples and woodsmoke mingled with the cold evening air.

Yet, the noise began to fade. Donaldina became aware only of Roy’s hand at her waist, the warmth of his fingers around hers and the steadiness with which he moved. He never pulled her where she did not already mean to go. Even in a dance, he offered direction without force.

“Ye truly havenae danced in years?” she asked.

“Nae.”

“With whom did ye learn?”

His gaze shifted briefly, and she feared she had touched another guarded memory.

Then he answered. “Me mother insisted every laird ought tae dance well enough nae tae disgrace his clan.”

“I would have liked her.”

“She would have liked ye.”

The certainty in his voice stole Donaldina’s breath. Roy seemed to realize what he had said. His hand tightened fractionally at her waist.

“Donaldina, I…”

“Aye?”

The music softened into a slower measure. His face was near hers now. She could see the gray of his eyes beneath the lantern light and the faint line between his brows which appeared whenever he struggled against words he feared to speak.

“Yesterday,” he began.

At the well.

She immediately remembered his arm around her waist, water on his mouth, and the kiss that almost happened.

Donaldina’s pulse quickened. “What of it?”

They turned once more, closer than the dance required. His gaze lowered to her lips. Donaldina wondered whether he might kiss her before the whole town and found, with alarming clarity, that she would not object.

The music ended. Applause broke out around them, and the world rushed back in a wave of sound. Roy bowed. Donaldina curtsied, though neither released the other’s hand until the next dancers entered the square and forced them apart, leaving his question unasked.

For the next hour, Donaldina endured congratulations, questions and far too many knowing smiles. The square grew warmer despite the deepening cold. Smoke from the fires mixed with the breath of the crowd. Music rose again, louder and faster, while dancers turned beneath the lanterns.

She needed air.

Roy was speaking with Hamish and two village guards near the musicians’ platform. She considered telling him where she was going, then decided she would be absent for no more than a few minutes. She slipped between two merchant stalls and followed a narrow lane beyond the market square.

The music softened behind her. At the edge of the town, the buildings thinned into storehouses and fenced gardens. Beyond them, woodland rose dark beneath the night sky. The air smelled of damp leaves and earth rather than smoke and crowded bodies.

Donaldina drew her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. She could still feel Roy’s hand at her waist. She smiled into the darkness.

Then, a movement sounded behind her and she turned. Three cloaked figures stepped from between the storehouses. Her smile vanished.

She moved backward. “Who are ye?”

No one answered. The nearest man lunged forward. Donaldina swerved to the side, but another man grabbed her from behind. A hand covered her mouth before she could scream. She bite down hard on the palm, causing the man to curse. Donaldina drove her heel down upon his foot and threw her elbow backward. It struck flesh. His grip loosened, and she tore herself free for one precious instant.