Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set (108 page)

Mairi returned with Marcus in tow bearing their food.

“Thank ye, lass,” Connell said. He shifted the bairn to his left arm so he could eat with his right. He took a few bites then offered Adam a small bite of potato.

“Mmmm . . .nummm . . .mmm,” Adam said as he gummed the soft food. Connell offered him more when he finished, but Adam had tucked his head against Connell’s neck and didn’t move, refusing to open his mouth. Connell looked to Mairi. “I dinna ken how much longer he will last.”

“Aye. I think he’s worn out. But there will be a bit of dancing after the meal. I was hoping to watch.”

Connell didn’t move, didn’t bat an eye. Maybe he could surprise her for a change. “Just watch?”

“I didna think ye would approve of me dancing with anyone else . . . except maybe Ian, of course.”

“So ye like dancing, do ye?”

“I love it, but since ye avoided feast days, I didna think ye’d want tae dance.”

He didn’t reply. He only nodded and took a bite of food. But fighting the grin that threatened was quite a struggle.

After a time, Connell wondered if any of them would see any dancing. There was so much food the table literally groaned with the weight. The revelers offered toasts and blessings to Ian and Connell. This was where the revels at Glen Gyle could get quite bawdy. But while many of the toasts were humorous, nary a one was insulting.

Connell found himself laughing with everyone. He finally threw off his dread as he sat back in his chair and pushed his plate away. “That was one of the finest meals I ever had.”

“I’m glad ye enjoyed it,” Fiona said.

“Lassie, ye and Mairi and the rest, all of ye have done such a fine job with this. I thank ye for yer hard work.”

“Ye be most welcome, Connell,” Fiona said.

The music began to play, discordant at first as the men prepared themselves, but it was an announcement to everyone that the dancing would start soon.

Fiona looked at Connell and grinned. “Why do ye no’ give me the laddie?”

Connell’s smile grew, and he handed Adam over. Adam protested a little but was so tired he settled almost immediately.

“Connell?” Mairi asked in confusion as the music began in earnest and more revelers gathered around the bonfire.

Connell rose from his chair and took her hand, bowing over it slightly. “Lassie, would ye be so kind as tae dance with me?”

“Dance?”

Her shocked expression was adorable. He smiled and gently tugged on her hand. “Dance,” he said firmly.

She stood, still staring at him in disbelief. “Connell MacGrigor, ye are just full of surprises.”

He laughed, pulled her close, then quickened his step so he could fall in line with the moving dancers. Now that Connell had finally convinced himself this revel wasn’t going to degrade into insults and harsh words, he was determined to fully enjoy it.

Connell and Mairi returned to their chairs out of breath from the dancing and from laughing. They would dance together and then return to the table, taking over Adam so Fiona and Smith could dance a reel. They continued their rotation for a good part of the night. Marcus finally found a basket large enough to put Adam in. He had given up his fight against sleep long ago, and even the loudest cheers didn’t rouse him.

Mairi bundled him up well and placed the basket on the table where they could all keep an eye on him.

Throughout the night, Marcus had finally adapted to his duties and now made sure Connell’s and Mairi’s cups were filled and they had anything they wanted. Connell was finally able to give the lad some genuine praise for a job well done. “Marcus,” he called and waved the lad over.

“Aye, Connell?”

“I’m surprised no one has brought out the whiskey.”

Marcus bit his lip and lowered his voice. “Smith was saving it for the two of ye, but he probably forgot about it. Do ye want me tae ask him?”

Connell’s first thought was not to bother the man, but Ian kept telling him that this was his day, and he hadn’t drank a good belt of whiskey in a long time. “Aye, please do.”

Marcus scampered off.

“I honestly ne’er expected this,” Mairi said, taking a drink from her cup. Her dark eyes sparkled in the firelight; her hair was coming loose from its braid.

Connell discovered he much preferred to see it loose and streaming around her shoulders. He reached out and freed it from its tie and gradually began to unwind the plaits. “What’s that?”

Mairi didn’t object, she only looked at him, the sparkle in her eyes growing stronger. “Ye be a fine dancer. Be there any dances ye dinna ken?”

He chuckled moving closer. “There were revels other than feast days, and in my youth I quickly learned that most lassies love dancing. Many of my friends didna, but a large part of that was because we were growing so bloody fast we couldna keep track of our feet half the time, so we didna wish tae embarrass ourselves. I learned with a bit of practice that dancing helped my balance in swordplay, and because I danced, the lassies wanted tae dance with me.”

Mairi chortled. “Now, that makes sense.”

Marcus returned and unobtrusively handed him a bottle. “Smith said this be yers.” He put two smaller cups on the table.

Connell opened the bottle and poured a little whiskey in the cup, pausing to inhale the aroma. It was robust. He spotted Ian standing on the other side of the dancers, his own bottle in hand, chatting with some revelers. Connell caught his eye and saluted him with his cup, then downed the drink. The whiskey was well aged, smooth but just a little tart.

“The oak wasna aged enough.”

“Pray pardon?” Mairi asked.

Connell poured a bit into her cup. “The barrel the whiskey is aged in be just as important as the whiskey itself. Different types of wood and different aging processes are what make the drink unique to each clan. Clan MacGrigor places a great importance on the age of the wood. This whiskey is good, but the tart flavor indicates the wood of the barrel was a bit green.”

She looked at him in surprise again but picked up the cup he had poured for her and drank. “Tastes just fine tae me,” she said after a moment and held out her cup.

Connell chuckled and refilled it. “Then that be all that matters.”

She giggled and Connell studied her. “Are ye getting drunk?”

“Nay!” She paused and frowned. “Well . . . mayhap a little.” She put her cup down. “I should be careful; I dinna want tae embarrass ye.” She leaned closer. “What other talents do ye have that ye havena shared with me?” Her voice had a distinctly inviting tone, and his body tightened, wishing to respond to that invitation.

“There is one tradition my clan has that I miss. But I typically need a cup or two of this,” he gestured to the whiskey, “before I attempt it.”

“Attempt what?”

He downed his drink and cleared his throat. There was a lull in the music and dancing. He remembered a song that was a popular tradition at revels. Ronan usually sang the lead, but Connell had also done so several times as well. He drew a deep breath, and his baritone carried strong and true.

“There’s a good old Scottish custom that has stood the test o’ time,

It’s a custom that’s been carried out in every land and clime.

When brother Scots are gathered, it’s aye the usual thing,

Just before we say good night, we fill our cups and sing . . .”

The revelers paused and looked at him in surprise, but he kept his attention focused on Mairi. This was why he usually needed a belt of whiskey or two; he became nervous when everyone looked at him. But if he concentrated on just one person, he could sing with the best of them. He hadn’t sang in so very long and only now realized how much he had missed it.

The chorus was the most difficult but also the most fun, especially when drinking. He was pleased to note that other voices joined in without hesitation.

“Just a wee deoch an doris, just a wee drop, that’s all.

Just a wee deoch an doris afore ye gang awa.

There’s a wee wifie waitin’ in a wee but an ben.

If you can say,
‘It’s a braw bricht moonlicht nicht,’
Then yer a’richt, ye ken.”

Connell grinned, continuing to sing as Mairi started laughing. He had managed the key line, “braw bricht moonlicht nicht,” perfectly, but several others stumbled and laughter resounded. More voices quickly joined him again as he continued to carry the lead. It was a well-loved song, and with the cold weather along with the air of celebration, Connell felt a growing sensation of belonging in their small quarter of Edinburgh. He and Mairi were accepted and welcome among these people. Isn’t that what the season was all about? Isn’t this exactly why they had traveled to the city to find a bit of peace?

By the time he finished the song, he and Mairi were laughing so hard he could barely sing at all. Fortunately, someone else took the lead with another song, allowing Connell to catch his breath.

“That was wonderful,” Mairi said as she wrapped her arm about his and rested her head against his shoulder. “I had no idea ye could sing so well.”

“’Tis a tradition in our clan that started tae fall by the wayside. Ronan’s da brought it back, but it was Ronan himself who breathed new life into it. Ye think I can sing? Ye get some whiskey into Ronan and he’ll put the best bards tae shame.” He refilled both their cups.

“Now I see yer plot,” Mairi said as she took another drink.

“Plot?”

“Ye be trying tae get me drunk so ye can take advantage of me.”

“I would ne’er—”

“I didna say I objected.”

Connell laughed. “All right, lassie, perhaps I should take ye home.”

“But we’re supposed tae give ye and Ian yer gifts.”

He pulled her cup from her hand and glanced around, but no one paid them any heed. He rose and tugged Mairi to her feet. “Ye’ve already given me mine,” he said, stepping closer.

“I . . . I have?”

“Ye worked hard with the other lasses. I tell ye true, I have ne’er enjoyed myself so much. I was certain I was going tae hate this night, but this has been wonderful. I ken ye did all ye could tae make sure it was delightful for me, and that means more than ye could ever ken.”

Mairi looked up at him, and her lips curved upward in a gentle smile. Once again he saw the fire within her that ignited his blood and made his pulse pound. Her hair, completely free of its braid, streamed around her shoulders, the dark brown glistening with beautiful red and gold highlights in the firelight. Unbidden, his hand reached out and gently stroked the soft locks away from her face, tucking them behind her ear. Then his fingers traveled lightly over her jaw to her chin where he encouraged her to lift her head just a little more.

Without conscious thought, he touched his lips to hers, intending only a light, playful kiss, but she wrapped her arms around his neck, the softness of her lips turned his control into dust, and he found himself kissing her deeply. Someone must have spotted them for he heard a whoop, and then the other revelers joined in, cheering loudly. He lost himself in his heady joy, and Mairi’s kiss possessed his attention completely. The cheers became little more than a muted buzz in his ears.

Slowly, his wits returned and he realized just how passionate their kiss was growing. The cheering continued, and a soft giggle bubbled within Mairi. Connell reluctantly pulled away, feeling his face heat, and he gave her a helpless grin. Mairi’s cheeks were red, but she was laughing, a bright sparkle in her eyes. The revelers continued to whistle and cheer, no doubt simply seeing them as a young husband and wife who were very much in love. That was fine with him, but enough was enough. He pulled Mairi close as he waved the others off. A few more whistles resounded, but the cheers died down. The music resumed, and quickly the revelers returned to their dancing and singing. Despite his embarrassment, he still fought to catch his breath after that kiss.

“Forgive me,” he said. “We’d best go home before I get into more trouble.”

“Trouble? Ye no’— .”

He stopped her with a laugh, glanced around, and wrapped his arm about her shoulders, scooping up Adam’s basket in his free hand. He lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “Give me a bit, I be certain I can find my way into it.”

“Ye promise?” Mairi asked and winked at him. She snagged the bottle of whiskey as he guided her away from the table. He stole a quick glance over his shoulder and took full advantage of the opportunity presented to him. Silently, they slipped into the darkness unnoticed.

HHH

At home, Connell was surprised when Mairi moved immediately to the hearth fire and stoked its embers alive. She placed the bottle on the hearth. “Wait here. I’ll put Adam tae bed.”

“Wait?” During the short walk home, they had laughed and enjoyed a bit of silliness together, stolen kisses and playful flirtation, and Connell had found his desire growing with each step. He couldn’t wait to get her into bed.

She picked up the basket but pointed to the rug before the hearth. “Stay.”

Connell laughed. “If ye insist, lassie.” But he eyed the bottle. “Shall I get us some cups?”

“That would be nice.”

“Can ye manage all right?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m fine.”

She wasn’t slurring her words, but she was definitely more relaxed. So was he, now that he thought about it. He grabbed two cups and unceremoniously sat on the rug before the fire. He poured the whiskey, wondering what Mairi was planning. He took the opportunity to free his hair from its braid and removed his plaid, still draped over his shoulders. His belt came next, and he decided the hell with it and his boots quickly followed. Now, he felt better.

So many things had changed. He noticed actions and situations that had been in his life at one time but had been long absent—so long he wasn’t even sure when they stopped happening—were beginning to return.

His life had been lacking certain aspects, and not just after Ina and William had died. Even when he was newly married to Ina they enjoyed each other’s company, but they never just relaxed and had fun. He had never playfully flirted with her as he had done with Mairi, and he most certainly had never kissed her in public. She would have slapped him if he had tried.