Highland Sanctuary (19 page)

"Yer scowl," Roan answered.

Lady Fiona appeared on Iain's arm, followed by her father escorting another young lass. Gavin tensed. The lady had struck him as a fortune hunter, intent to win a husband of quality birth and who had plenty lining the coffers.

She greeted Leith in a false pretense of interest. Gavin groaned, hoping the lad didn't fall for her forged charm. Raising the goblet to his lips, Gavin tasted the dark wine. It burned like a sore throat. He took a deep breath. His nose stung and eyes watered as the fiery liquid thrust his lively senses into a new zeal.

"I'm afraid Leith will soon discover Lady Fiona's venom," Gavin said.

Roan met Gavin's gaze, then turned to study Leith and Lady Fiona. "Could be a lesson well worth the risk." He grinned.

The knocker echoed through the great hall like a deep drum. The interruption gave Gavin time to consider the biting response about to roll off his tongue.

"So, this is the infamous Serena Boyd I've been hearing about?" Lady Fiona's tone rose to a high pitch.

Gavin froze. A vision of Serena in green satin and lace over an underskirt of a dark blue plaid with green and purple lines drained his throat dry. He felt like a parched man staring at a water fountain.

Satisfaction swelled in his chest, knowing she had chosen his fabric. While Iain introduced Lady Fiona, a shy smile crossed Serena's face as she shook her long black hair over her shoulder. It fell to her waist. Floral ribbons of ivory tied the strands on each side out of her face. Evelina stood beside her in the red gown that Gavin remembered Serena altering. A ravenous heat brewed in his lungs, robbing him of his next breath. He coughed, heading toward her.

At the sound, Serena's gaze lifted to his. The pulse in his throat quickened as her moss-colored eyes brightened. Her pink lips curled in a favorable smile. "Gavin! I see ye've already arrived."

"Aye, I've been eagerly awaiting yer arrival." He turned to Evelina and inclined his head. "Evelina, ye look lovely in red. It's a fine night for dancing after dinner. I understand a harpist will be playing soft melodies during dinner." Gavin motioned to a woman off to the side between the dais and the first long table. She sat in a wood chair, plucking each chord one at a time to fine tune her instrument.

"I've always enjoyed harp music. This will be a rare treat as no one in the village owns such a fine piece," Serena said.

"I should say not!" Lady Fiona narrowed her eyes and tilted her nose in the air. "An elegant harp would be out of place in those wee hovels. Where would one put it?"

"True." Serena spoke before Gavin could.

Gavin wanted to hurl Lady Fiona's insult back at her, but as the host it was Iain's place.

"Lady Fiona, I always thought yer gentle breeding would constitute compassion for those less fortunate than yerself." The laird's lips thinned and his eyes darkened like coal.

Serena met Lady Fiona's gaze. "Indeed, I suppose it would take a great deal of wit to organize such a wee space. Fortunately for ye, Lady Fiona, ye'll never be in such need." Serena turned to Gavin. "To answer yer question, aye, we both intend to dance. Right, Mither?"

Evelina turned her scowling expression from Lady Fiona and offered a forced smile. "After much persuasion from Serena, I finally consented."

"I didn't mean to imply that I possess a lack of compassion." Lady Fiona's complexion turned crimson, her gray eyes troubled. "Only that they're less likely to own such luxuries." She gave a nervous laugh. "And speaking of good manners, I need to find my cousin and make introductions for her. Please excuse me." She strayed away to where her father and cousin conversed with other guests.

"I must say, I'm quite impressed with how well ye handled her rude insolence." Gavin regarded Serena with even more respect. "Truth be known, I didn't think ye'd respond."

"Neither did I," Iain shook his head.

"Why not?" Serena's wide gaze snapped from Gavin to Iain and back again.

"I don't really know." Gavin shrugged. "I suppose because ye seem so reserved."

"Aye, but I'm more honest than reserved, which only means I don't have a quick temper. It doesn't mean I never get angry or that I won't defend myself."

He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty.
A biblical proverb Father Mike had taught him when he was a child came to mind. He missed Father Mike's wise counsel. As the MacKenzie Clan priest, he had served their family's spiritual needs for many years. He was also one of the few who had a complete copy of the Latin Bible, rather than copied excerpts of ancient scrolls.

A servant announced that the feast was ready to be served. Gavin and Leith were seated at the dais table with the laird, the earl, and his family. Serena and her mother were placed at the lower tables with other invited guests from town and a few villagers, including Father Tomas.

Iain stood and raised his palms out. "May I have yer attention, please?" The sound of Iain's voice calmed the great hall, as conversations faded. All eyes lifted toward him. "I would like to introduce our guests of honor. Please welcome Gavin MacKenzie, the eldest son of Birk MacKenzie of Kintail at Eileen Donan, Chieftain of Clan MacKenzie."

Gavin stood and gave a bow. He forced a smile even though he disliked being noticed by everyone.

"And Leith MacKenzie, Birk's youngest son."

Leith, much more comfortable with the attention, stood and bowed with a broad grin.

"The MacKenzie brothers are here with an army of warriors making long-needed repairs to Braigh Castle. Gavin assures me it's a great way to keep unwed men busy in times of peace."

Some of the guests laughed and nodded in understanding, while clapping.

The meal was served consisting of pork roast, stewed carrots, potatoes, and bread. Gavin could hardly enjoy the fine food as he disliked being separated from Serena. She laughed and conversed with others as Gavin wished he was part of their lively table.

Lady Fiona tried to engage him in more conversation, but he kept his answers short, but polite, to discourage her. After three failed attempts, she finally turned to Iain, who couldn't escape as easily since they were sitting closer.

When Iain finally announced that the hall would be cleared for dancing, Gavin could hardly contain his excitement. He felt like a tender lad, ripe with the coming of age, not the one score and ten years that had branded him with plenty of experience. He paced back and forth as the tables were cleared and moved.

The musicians settled around the harpist, complete with fiddlers, drummers, pipers, flute players, and a bag piper. For a brief moment, Gavin thought of his lute at home, but one glance at Serena talking with Tomas and her mother on a bench by the hearth, and all he could think about was holding her in his arms for that first dance.

The music began. With his sights on Serena, he strode toward her. His heart pounded in time with the drums. Iain stepped in front of Serena, a few feet away, blocking Gavin's view.

"I'd be honored if ye'd share this dance with me, lass," Iain's voice spoke clear through the music around them.

Gavin stopped, his chest heavy with concern, as he waited for her response. Would she honor her promise to him or feel obligated to Iain since he was her host and laird? She faltered. Her silence lengthened. With a hammering heart full of disappointment, Gavin strode away.

Serena stared into Iain MacBraigh's expectant hazel eyes, awkward discomfort weighing a burden upon her. She hated to refuse the laird, but it would be much worse to break a promise to Gavin. Iain's auburn mustache moved with his upper lip as he smiled down at her . . . waiting.

Clearing her throat, Serena returned a smile. "I'm sorry, my laird, but I've already promised the first dance to Gavin. Mayhap later in the evening?"

"Of course." He frowned, nodding.

"I want to thank ye for the gowns and the materials ye so graciously provided. The colors are lovely."

"Ye're verra welcome. Serena, ye could have worn any color and ye'd still glow like an angel."

While his response was flattering, Iain lacked a certain depth that Gavin possessed. She struggled to feel a personal connection with him the way she did with Gavin. A pair of blue eyes came to mind and her heart fluttered. She needed to find Gavin.

"Please excuse me." She curtsied. He bowed.

Serena stepped around the laird, but didn't see Gavin in the crowd. A flutter of motion with colorful gowns, tall gentlemen, and swirling couples hindered her view. Where had he gone? She sidestepped others and made her way to the wall. Standing on her tiptoes, she recognized the back of his red head departing for the double doors. Was he leaving or merely seeking a bit of fresh air?

Her stomach balked at the thought of missing him. All morning she had imagined what it would be like to dance by his side and swing upon his arm as they had practiced on the cliff to the ocean's beat. She dashed around another couple. He reached for the doorknob.

"Gavin!"

He paused, standing still as if listening for her voice a second time.

"Gavin!"

A gentleman stepped back, bumping into her and stomping her toes.

"Och!"

"Pardon me, lass. Are ye all right?"

"Aye." She nodded, biting her bottom lip as the pain shot through her foot. Numbness set in her sore toes.

"I'll take care of her." Gavin appeared by her side and took her arm, allowing her to lean upon him for support. He guided her to a nearby chair in the corner. "Are ye hurt anywhere else besides yer feet?"

"Nay." Serena sat in a cushioned chair with a sigh. "I daresay, I shall feel fine in a moment." She glanced up into his concerned blue eyes. She loved the warmth in his gaze and the protection she felt around him. Gavin was the first man to tempt her heart with trusting him.

His grasp lingered, and she didn't pull away as he bent close. He smelled of leather and pine in his navy blue and dark green plaid with thin red-and-white stripes. His white tunic had tight-fitting cuffs with pleated shoulders over brown breeches laced to the knees where his leather boots covered his calves. Serena's breath hitched in her throat. The man was well-dressed and handsome, to be sure.

"I could examine yer feet if need be." He raised a red eyebrow as his forehead wrinkled in question. "Or I could fetch Tomas."

"Please . . . I'm feeling much better." Serena gripped his arm. "May I have that dance ye promised me? I've been looking forward to it."

"Are ye sure ye're well enough?" He wavered. She not only wanted to dance for her own merriment, but because she sensed how much it would please him. His happiness mattered to her. The realization of how much she cared for him hit her with unexpected force.