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She frowned at him. “ ’Tis traditional Scot dress, English,” she told him, as if he were a moron. “Only ye English cover every part of yer body. We Scots find it better to move unrestricted.”
He was outraged. “You will change immediately,” he said. “No wife of mine will cavort about half-naked.”
Jemma and Caladora were behind her and he suddenly noticed that they were all dressed the same way. All he could do was point at them in outrage, leaving the discipline to Kieran and Thomas.
“Why are you dressed like that?” Kieran calmly asked his wife.
“To dance,” she told him. “We are going to do the dance of swords for Uncle Thomas and my Da.”
“Oh, Jemma, now ye spoiled the surprise,” Jordan scolded.
“I had to or they would make us change,” her cousin shot back. “Look at their faces; they dunna like us to show our legs.”
“Your legs are certainly beautiful enough,” Paris said unbiased.
“Well, I for one do not want the entire population of Northwood gaping at my wife’s legs,” William said staunchly. “Dance or no dance.”
Jordan hopped from the bottom step and put her hands on her husband’s arms beseechingly. He looked down at her sternly, but they both knew he would give in if she begged enough. She smiled prettily.
“Please, English?” she pleaded softly. “Just one dance and then I promise I shall change.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I do not approve of this.”
She laughed softly. “I know, but ye’ll like it. Please?”
He pursed his lips as a final show of doubt, just to show his men that she could not sway him that easily, but everyone knew the battle was already over. With a grunt of frustration, he pulled her to him and they proceeded back into the grand hall.
Inside the hall, it had grown quiet when the occupants saw that they were to be entertained. At Jordan’s direction, Michael and Deinwald collected six swords and lay them upon the floor in three crosses, even-spaced apart. Jemma was over with the musicians, instructing them on what to play while Caladora stood by and watched the swords being placed.
William, Paris and the other knights were standing by the dais in a critical little group, haughtily disapproving of the bare legs and daring any man in the audience to stare at them for any longer than a brief moment. Even Andrew was standing with him, accompanied by his second-in-command, Thane Alraedson.
Kieran came into the hall moments later escorting his father-in-law, who was eager to see the dancing. His face had fairly lit up when Kieran had gone back to the apartments to retrieve him.
“I would never allow my wife such a display,” Andrew said, loud enough for them all to hear.
William and the others turned slowly to look at him. It was such a ridiculous statement that they all suddenly burst out laughing. Obviously, the man had never gone up against a headstrong Scot. And, obviously, he had never been in love.
Andrew looked at them curiously but did nothing more than shrug to emphasize his point.
Michael and Deinwald joined the others as Jordan, Jemma and Caladora took their places in front of the swords. A hush settled over the crowd as Jemma signaled to the musicians. Paris and William stood huddled together, their critical expressions growing soft.
“God, she has magnificent legs,” Paris murmured.
“Aye, she does,” William agreed softly.
“You are a married man. You should not be agreeing so readily,” Paris admonished him.
William passed him an impatient glance. “I was talking about my wife.”
Paris grinned wolfishly. “I wasn’t.”
The music began, quick and lively, and made everyone sit up and take notice. Jemma and Caladora, on the ends, suddenly leapt to their toes and began to jump and twitch and skirt the swords in perfect synchronization. After a few seconds of that, they froze in the pretty position they were in and Jordan followed, mimicking their movements exactly but putting a little spin into her routine as she, too, ended in the same position her cousins were in. When she spun around, her plaid belled up and revealed the entire length of luscious leg. William, as entranced as he was with his wife’s dancing, had this horrible fear that every person present would be able to see her most private part and was relieved to see that she wore some sort of strange briefs underneath. He found himself sighing with relief, reminding himself to yell at her later for giving him such a scare.
The music quickened and so did their dancing. They were as quick as foxes, their toes twitching and then legs kicking, huge smiles on their faces. They moved together with such precision that they almost looked to be of one brain. It was the type of dance that left the audience hanging from one move to the next, watching and waiting with excitement.
At one point they did a little jig about their respective swords, then each girl took a hop to the right, and the two remaining girls did a jig about that set of swords. Then they hopped to the right again, leaving the last girl, Caladora, doing a solo jig before jumping entirely free of the swords.
Next, in a line with Jordan in the lead, they proceeded to spin in a wide circle around the swords, spinning like tops with hair flying and plaid twisting about them. It was so perfect, so measured and so beautiful that when they resumed their dancing atop the swords, the audience went wild even though the dance wasn’t through yet.
