Taken by Angeline Fortin (ebook reader with android os TXT) 📕

“Like it did with Dorothy?” Aileen asked, perking up enough for a twinkle to appear in her bright blue eyes and a smile to deepen her dimples.

Like it did with me.

A small group of minstrels armed with two flutes, a lute, a psaltery and a Scottish hurdy-gurdy played in the great hall after the meal.  One song after another.  Spritely tunes that set Scarlett’s toe tapping.  Her cheeks were pink with delight as she smiled up at him.  James thought he’d never seen a sight more becoming.

The music soon transitioned to a statelier tune and King James set his wine aside and rose from the monstrous wooden chair that had been set upon a raised dais for him at the end of the room.  Holding out his hand to Janet Kennedy, he led her to the center of the room.  Other couples joined them and began to weave an intricate pattern across the floor.

For Scarlett, it was enchanting and lovely to watch but to her it didn’t look like any sort of dancing she was familiar with.  It was more like a promenade of careful steps to the front, side and rear.

“Would ye care to dance, my lady?” Rhys asked.

“Oh I would love to, but…”  I don’t know any of your dances.  It was on the tip of her tongue but Scarlett bit it back.  She’d had too fine a day to risk rousing the dragon once again.  “Thank you, but no.  I’d rather just watch, if that’s all right?”

Too bad really, she would have loved to dance.  With Laird especially, though he hadn’t asked.  He was so graceful in every way; surely he would be a joy on the dance floor.

Perhaps in the days to come she could ask Rhys to teach her some dances or offer to teach them some of hers.  Scarlett stifled a laugh, struck by the hilarity of showing them all the Dougie, how to do the Wobble, or worse, how to Twerk.  If she could keep a straight face, perhaps they’d all join in.  How ludicrous.  She’d probably be laughed off the dance floor!

“Mayhap we can find some wine to refill our drinks then?” Rhys offered.

“That would be lovely.”

“I’ll escort her,” Laird cut in.

Rhys looked set to argue but Scarlett only shook her head.  Thanking him again, she let Laird lead her away.

“Ye ken nothing of our dances, do ye?” he asked quietly as they strolled around the perimeter of the hall.

Scarlett briefly considered a lie but shook her head.  “Nothing.”

Silence fell heavily.  A new dance had begun. Patrick and Aleizia had joined the dancers and Rhys led a beaming Aileen on to the floor as well.

“How is that possible?”

It was the same thing he had said each time she told him something like that.  She wished she could tell him as she knew it frustrated him deeply.  “I’m not from around here.  You must realize that by now.”

“The Lindsay raid…”

“I think you know very well that I’m not the Lindsay’s daughter, sister or even a distant cousin,” she said, quietly.  “I can’t tell you how I ended up in your castle, Laird.  I don’t really know myself.”

“Who are ye, lass?”  he asked quietly.  “Ye come here wi’ yer nonsensical speech and yer peculiar walk…”

“What’s wrong with the way I walk?” she asked, interrupting him.

Laird shrugged.  “’Tis like an untutored youth wi’ little restraint.  Always rushing this way and that.  Aye, ‘tis clear enough that yer no’ from this place but where are ye from then?  What are ye hiding?  Or hiding from?  I hae seen fear in yer eyes.  Mayhap I can help ye.”

Oh, if only he could.

“I’m sorry, Laird.  I can’t but I am no threat to you.  I promise.”  Most of it was half-truths but that last, at least, was true enough.  They came to a small alcove off the hall just as the music changed its rhythm again.  A soft, haunting ballad played sweetly on the flute that seemed to sing to her very soul.  It was romantic, stirring.

It also provided her an excuse to change the subject before it progressed farther than she could safely negotiate.  Before Laird had time to pelt her with another round of questions, Scarlett took him by the hand and smiled up at him.  “Will you dance with me?”

“Ye just admitted ye dinnae ken our dances.”

“No, but I could show you one of mine, if you like,” she said, tugging him into the alcove and out of sight from the rest of the room.  “It’s called a waltz.”  Taking his right arm, she placed his hand at her waist.

“Ye think to distract me?” he grumbled.

“Maybe.  Now, put your hand here and give me your other hand.”  She held her right hand up for him to hold.

“Ye jest.”

“Not at all.”  She grinned up at him, enjoying his astonishment when she put her hand on his shoulder.  “Now hold me closer.”

“Perhaps we should retire to yer room for this,” he murmured, his breath teasing against her cheek as he tightened his embrace.  “’Tis no dance to be sure.”

Scarlett laughed.  “No, it is a dance.  Not too tight.  There!  Now, we move like this.”  She guided him through the simple one-two-three motion until he got the hang of it.  “That’s it.  You’ve got it.”

Slowly but with growing confidence, Laird moved her around the small room. He pulled her closer and closer until her breasts were pressed against his chest and his growing arousal was pressed against her belly.  His pale eyes held hers steadily as they moved together, filled with dark promises for the night to come.

“Like this?”

Her body sighed and her heart fluttered.  “Yes, just like that.”

Growing desire clouded around them until they were nearly lost without more than touch between them.  Laird bent his head to nuzzle the hollow below her ear, inhaling her sensual scent.

“What is this?”

Scarlett looked up, gulping in a deep breath at that all too familiar face.  At her side, Laird stiffened and withdrew to an