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Nick eyed the tableau on the other side of the room. “Angus must be in his cups. It’s the only explanation.”
“And not a very reassuring one,” Graeme said.
“He seemed quite sober to me,” Sabrina replied. “He and His Majesty are simply having a nice chat.”
“What could they possibly chat about that didn’t involve Angus’s going off about some old Highland grievance?” Graeme asked.
“Right now, they’re talking about the dancers. Your grandfather is explaining the steps and the meanings behind the older dances.”
Nick grimaced. “Och, that’s no good.”
Graeme knew what he meant. Some of the old songs contained elements of protest against English oppression of the Highlands.
“I’d best get over there,” Nick said.
“There truly is no need to worry, sir,” Sabrina replied. “They’re getting along like blazes.”
“As in this room could be burning down at any moment,” Graeme sardonically replied.
She huffed out a chuckle. “Indeed, no. But Victoria does wish for you to join her, Lord Arnprior, though I assured her everything would be fine. His Majesty has taken quite the shine to your grandfather.”
The two old fellows now had their heads together, as if exchanging confidences. Vicky had a hand clapped over her mouth, trying not to laugh.
“That is the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen,” Graeme said.
“I might never recover from the shock,” Nick added before he went to join his wife.
Leaving Graeme alone with Sabrina was awkward, considering what had happened the last time they’d spoken.
Or kissed, more accurately.
“Ah, would you like to join the others at the table?” Graeme asked.
“There’s no one at your table,” she gently pointed out.
Damn. He spotted Grant at the refreshments table, but Ainsley and Royal had disappeared. They had probably taken the opportunity to sneak out to avoid potential mayhem.
Graeme eyed the petite beauty standing patiently before him. It would be impolite, not to mention scandalous, to abandon her on the edge of the dance floor. Nor did he wish to settle in for an intimate chat at their empty table.
She raised a golden eyebrow. “Would you care to dance, sir?”
Surprised, he frowned. “Do you actually know any Scottish reels?”
That was all the blasted orchestra was playing tonight, along with other traditional Scottish tunes. It felt like a damn gathering of the clans.
“Well, no,” Sabrina replied.
Graeme had to grin. “Then why did you ask me to dance, you daft lass?”
“Because you seem rather at a loss as to what to do.”
That was certainly true. “Actually, I should be getting back to . . .”
“To what? Lurking about, doing your mysterious spy work?”
“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”
Her smile was adorably smug. “Since you are currently free, perhaps you could take me for a stroll in the hall. I could use a breath of fresh air.”
