Highland Storms (21 page)

‘
Are you not dancing?’ The voice came out of the darkness behind her and made her jump. Brice materialised beside her and looked at her with eyes that glittered in the light from the nearby torches. He smiled and held out his hand. ‘We can’t have the most beautiful woman in all of Rosyth without a partner. There’s another set forming, will you show me the steps, please?’

‘
I … you don’t know them?’

‘
It’s been a while, my memory needs refreshing.’

She should have said no. This man was dangerous to her equilibrium and her conscience was telling her – no shouting at her – to stay away from him. But her body had other ideas. Putting her hand in his, she followed him over to where the other dancers were performing energetically. She gave Brice a short demonstration and told him what to do. He soon caught on, making her suspect he hadn’t been entirely truthful.

‘
You, sir, are a liar,’ she told him, but sweetened the accusation with a smile. ‘You’ve done this before.’

He grinned back, unrepentant. ‘I told you, it was a long time ago. But I confess, I wanted to hear your voice describe the steps and watch you perform them first.’

‘
Why you –’

He didn’t allow her to finish the sentence. Instead, he laughed and caught her round the waist, lifting her high into the air to swing her around. It wasn’t part of the official steps, but she didn’t care. She forgot about everything except the way his eyes danced with merriment and his hands felt so warm through the material of her clothes as they held her. Strong and capable, they almost encircled her waist completely and she revelled in the sensation.

‘
There’s no need to lift me,’ she protested half-heartedly. ‘You’re going to injure yourself. I’m not exactly a doll.’

A strange expression flitted across his face, but was gone almost as soon. He smiled. ‘No, but you’re perfect nonetheless.’

Marsaili didn’t know what to say to that, except a mumbled, ‘Thank you.’

When they stopped for some refreshment in the form of claret, she felt the wine humming through her veins. Or perhaps it was the excitement of dancing with him? Either way, it gave her the courage to ask him about the preacher.

‘
So what happened with Mr Keil?’ she whispered, making sure she was leaning close to him so no one else could hear.

He came even nearer and she felt his breath fan her ear when he replied. A tremor of awareness shimmered down her back. ‘I shouldn’t tell you really,’ he said. ‘It’s best you don’t know anything about it, but he’s gone so there’s no need to worry.’

‘
He escaped despite the Redcoats?’

‘
Yes, they won’t find him, I promise. And he’s not coming back either, unless he’s desperate. I gave him enough money to live on for a while and he said there were still places where he was safe.’

Marsaili nodded. It was good to know the danger was over, at least for now. ‘It’s a shame he can’t be left in peace, but he’s made his choice I suppose. Do you … I mean, are you one of his flock?’

‘
No. I was brought up in the Swedish church. It’s slightly different, but not markedly so. To tell you the truth, I don’t have strong feelings either way. I go to church like everyone else, where is immaterial. I believe God listens wherever I am when I’m praying.’ He sent her a teasing glance accompanied by a lop-sided grin. ‘Right now, I’m praying for another dance with you. Do you think he’s listening?’

‘
For shame,’ she hissed, but couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping her lips. ‘That’s blasphemy, my lord.’

‘
Brice, remember? No one can hear you.’

‘
Brice …’ She loved his name, loved the sound of it. Loved the owner?
No! Absolutely not
. She glanced up at him and found him staring at her with a strange expression in his eyes. It made her insides melt, but she told herself firmly it wasn’t love and he wasn’t for her.
Liar
, a little voice whispered inside her mind. She ignored it. Whatever the case, one more dance couldn’t hurt, could it? She took a deep breath and reached out her hand. ‘Very well, just one.’

‘
One what? Oh, yes.’ He came out of his trance and took her fingers, pulling her back towards the other dancers.

They hadn’t taken very many steps, however, when Marsaili was suddenly yanked out of Brice’s grip. A strong hand encircled her wrist and pulled her away. ‘My turn, I believe. You don’t mind, do you, laird?’

Marsaili stared into the hazel eyes of Seton and suppressed a shiver. There was something lurking in their depths, a glimmer of menace which frightened her even though she knew he couldn’t do anything to her here. She glanced towards Brice, wondering if he would make a scene, the way Iain always did whenever someone tried to dance with Kirsty. Brice only bowed and smiled at her. ‘Not at all. Thank you for your time, Miss Buchanan.’ Then he melted back into the crowd. Marsaili forced herself not to stare after him, but she felt almost bereft at his leaving so suddenly.

Seton dragged her into the dance, performing his steps energetically and with much grace. It occurred to Marsaili that he was like a wildcat, his sinuous strength awesome, but terrifying to his prey. And she felt like prey, the way he’d pounced on her and claimed her. He had no right to do so without asking her first, and it was as though he’d been trying to show Brice that Marsaili was out of bounds. Only she was entitled to tell him though. This man had no authority over her whatsoever.

‘
So you’re making eyes at the laird now, are you?’ Seton sneered. ‘Won’t get you anywhere. He’s been telling everyone he’s not the marrying kind, so the only way you’ll ever be a fine lady is if you marry me.’

‘
Are you asking me?’ She couldn’t quite keep the surprise out of her voice. He must be getting desperate if he was willing to wed her to have his way.

‘
I might be. The point is, the laird never will.’

She knew there was no point arguing with him or correcting his assumption that she’d thrown her cap at Brice. He would believe what he wanted to. She could and would refuse his offer, however, just as she always did. Although a marriage proposal showed more honourable intentions, she still didn’t want him. Not on any terms.

‘
You may find this hard to believe, Mr Seton, but not all women wish to be fine ladies. Especially not if it means having to wed someone who is repugnant to them.’

He pulled her hard against him, even though the dance didn’t call for such a move, and she was trapped for a moment. His body was firm and unyielding, a steel vice that made panic well up inside her. She tried to struggle against his grip, but stood no chance against his superior strength. ‘Let go of me,’ she grated out from between clenched teeth. ‘You have no right to –’

‘
Repugnant, am I? We’ll just see about that. I’m sure you’re your mother’s daughter and she wasn’t hard to persuade. What you need is a real man as I’ll soon prove to you.’

Marsaili gasped and flinched as if he’d hit her. She had known her mother had lain with several men before she finally married, but she’d never realised Seton was one of them. And for him to want to wed the daughter of someone he’d bedded long ago somehow made it all worse. She made an angry noise and kicked him hard in the shin. Thankfully it was enough to make him loosen his grip and she shoved him away. ‘Leave me alone.’

‘
You little vixen,’ he muttered, but she saw to her consternation that his gaze was still blazing with desire and he smiled at her. ‘I shall enjoy taming you and it will be soon, I promise.’

He turned around abruptly and pushed his way through the crowd, heading for the drinks table. Marsaili was left standing among the dancers. She received a few pitying glances, but she didn’t stay to endure them. With her head held high, she marched off towards the house and went straight to her room, followed by Liath who’d been waiting by the door. She lit a candle with fingers that shook, then threw herself down onto the bed and wrapped her arms around the dog’s shaggy neck.

‘
Oh, Liath, what am I to do?’ she whispered. ‘Why won’t he give up?’

The big canine whined softly as if he understood her turmoil and leaned into her, calming her with his solid warmth. He was her only protection, but could he keep Seton away for ever?

Not if Seton could help it.

Brice watched surreptitiously as Seton manhandled Marsaili into the dance. The man was an oaf who needed to be taught some manners, but Brice didn’t think this was either the time or the place. Everyone was enjoying themselves and picking a fight with the factor would ruin the harmony of the evening. Most of his tenants seemed to have accepted Brice now, albeit cautiously, and he was reluctant to change their favourable opinion by asserting himself so blatantly.

But damn it all, the man was touching Marsaili as if he owned her.

Just as he thought he might have to intervene after all, judging by the furious look on Marsaili’s face, she once again solved the matter herself. She kicked the man on the shin with considerable force. This was apparently enough to make him let go of her and then disappear out of sight. Brice saw her stand alone for a moment, in the grip of some strong emotion. Her fists clenched and unclenched, but then she noticed the curious glances being thrown her way and stalked off towards the house. He wondered whether to follow her and make sure she was all right, but decided against it. She would want to be left alone.

Feeling restless and not in the mood to dance with any of the women gazing at him with inviting looks in their eyes, he headed for the stables. He hadn’t had time for any early morning rides during the harvest week, so he thought he’d check on Starke. The big horse was being given special care by Archie, but he still liked Brice best. Halfway to his horse’s stall, however, he became aware he wasn’t alone in the building. There were murmurings coming from a stall further along. A courting couple, he thought, and turned to leave. The last thing he wanted was to intrude on someone’s privacy. Starke would have to wait.

A voice he recognised stopped him in his tracks. ‘No, Iain, not like this. I’m not having it, I told you.’

Kirsty. Was she in trouble? Brice hesitated. If her beau was trying to seduce her against her will, he’d have to do something about it. Although they were as good as betrothed, it didn’t give Iain the right to force her. Brice came to a decision – he’d have to at least find out what was going on.

He headed for the furthest stall and cleared his throat loudly. ‘Kirsty? Is everything all right?’ he asked.

A lantern hanging on the wall cast a soft glow over the scene and Brice saw his cousin blush bright red as he stuck his face round a wattle partition. Iain, who’d had one hand up her skirts, dropped them as if he’d been scalded, and scowled at Brice.

‘
We’re fine,’ he snarled. ‘And if you don’t mind, we’re a wee bit occupied.’

Brice raised his eyebrows at the man. ‘I was talking to my cousin. Kirsty, do you need rescuing?’ He smiled at her to show that she need not feel embarrassed at being caught like this, but the colour in her cheeks deepened nonetheless.

She shook her head. ‘No. Like Iain said, we’re fine.’

‘
Good. You’re both fine. I’m glad to hear it. I’ll, er … see you outside then. Or not.’ Brice chuckled and turned to leave again, but Kirsty’s voice stopped him.

‘
Wait. There is something.’

‘
Yes?’

‘
No, Kirsty. It’s nothing to do with him,’ Iain hissed.

‘
Maybe he can help. Please, Iain, we can’t go on like this. You know that.’

Brice looked from one to the other and waited. Iain’s mouth was set in a mulish line, but at another pleading look from Kirsty he shrugged and muttered, ‘Oh, very well, but you’re wasting your breath.’

Kirsty bit her lip. ‘It’s Iain’s father. He’s against our marriage for some reason and Iain doesn’t want to go through with it until we have Mr Seton’s approval. Can you help us persuade him? We’ve waited ages already.’

Brice almost laughed out loud. He was probably the last person on earth Seton would listen to on such a matter, but then the man would never take advice from anyone, of that Brice was sure. ‘I’m sorry, Kirsty, but I don’t think I should interfere between a father and his son.’ He saw his cousin’s shoulders slump and she blinked away threatening tears. ‘Perhaps there’s another way, though? How about if I let it be known I’m arranging a dowry for you, one big enough to tempt any man’s family?’ Brice gazed Iain straight in the eyes. ‘Would that persuade him, do you think?’

Iain nodded, the sullen expression being replaced with dawning hope and perhaps even a measure of admiration. ‘Money would sway him, definitely. But can you get your hands on a large sum?’

Brice grinned. ‘I didn’t say I was actually going to show it to him. We can put him off by pretending it has to be sent for from Sweden. In the meantime, we’ll hint that you’ve anticipated your vows a little and the marriage needs to go ahead immediately. We’ll have to hope your father is blinded by greed and gives his consent.’

‘
And if he doesn’t? What if he insists we have to wait until the money arrives?’

Brice shrugged. ‘Then I’ll hand some of it over to you, enough to keep him on side. Once the marriage has been entered into, your father won’t be able to have it annulled.’ He smiled again. ‘I’m sure you’ll see to it all the legal requirements are met.’

Kirsty blushed once more and punched her cousin on the arm, muttering under her breath, but Iain and Brice exchanged a look of male complicity.