"But yer dress!It's ruined!"
"It's just a dress," Fiona said firmly."And mead washes out easily enough.No harm done."She smiled at him until his panicked expression began to ease."What's yer name?"
"Tam, mistress."
"Well, Tam, accidents happen to everyone.Why, just yesterday I tripped over my own feet and fell into a mud puddle.Made quite the mess of myself."She winked at him.
The boy seemed relieved, and soon he was smiling broadly as Fiona continued to chat with him about his duties and his family.One of the Finnigan women quickly appeared with a cloth to help dab at the stain, but Fiona waved away any fuss.
Connor watched this entire exchange with growing admiration.Some ladies would have been furious with a lad ruining their gown.But Fiona had chosen kindness over anger, comfort over punishment.
As the feast continued, Connor found himself increasingly possessive of his bride.When she laughed at a jest from one of his cousins, he casually draped his arm across the back of her chair, not quite touching her but making his claim clear.When she spoke with other guests, he leaned closer, including himself in the conversations.It was done naturally, but there was an unmistakable possessiveness to his gestures.
The evening was proceeding better than Connor had dared hope.Despite a few dark looks from members of both clans who still viewed their former enemies with suspicion, most of the guests seemed genuinely pleased to have a celebration.The ale flowed freely, the musicians played lively tunes, and laughter echoed around the hall.
Then the atmosphere shifted as if a storm cloud had passed over the sun.
***
TEÀRLAG ENTERED THEGreat Hall as if she owned it, her hips swaying provocatively as she made her way through the crowd.Conversations died as heads turned to watch her progress.She was undeniably beautiful: tall and voluptuous, with long blonde hair that fell in waves to her waist and dark eyes that promised sin.Her dress was cut dangerously low, the scarlet clinging to every curve of her body.
Connor's entire body went rigid the moment he saw her, his face darkening into a thunderous scowl.The casual warmth that had surrounded him all evening vanished instantly, replaced by cold fury.
Fiona didn't miss the silent exchange between them.The way Connor's jaw tightened, the way this woman's eyes fixed on him with unmistakable intimacy, the brazen way she moved through the hall as if she belonged there.A sick feeling settled in Fiona's stomach as Connor's earlier words echoed in her memory:I'll flaunt my mistresses in front of her if I choose.
Their eyes met across the hall.Fiona's and this woman's.Teàrlag's lips curved in a smile that was more smirk than greeting.It was a look that said clearly:He was mine first, and he'll be mine again.
Teàrlag approached the high table with feline grace, stopping directly in front of Connor and Fiona.She performed a deep curtsey, bending so low that her abundant bosom nearly spilled from her bodice, ensuring every man on the dais got an eyeful.When she straightened, she fixed Connor with a sultry look.
"I believe congratulations are in order," she purred, her voice carrying clearly through the now-silent hall."It's a pity I had not heard until this eve that ye were to wed,Connor."She used his given name with the easy familiarity of intimate acquaintance, and Fiona felt her stomach clench with humiliation.
Connor's fury was barely contained, his knuckles white where he gripped his cup.This was exactly what he'd feared: his past coming back to shame his new wife in front of both their clans.He'd parted ways with Teàrlag months ago when she'd begun pressing him to make her his permanent leman, regardless of any future marriage arrangements.Clearly, his rejection hadn't convinced her to abandon her designs.
"I dinnae ken why ye should know," Connor replied icily, his voice cutting through the hall."As I have not seen ye in some time.Perhaps we could discuss this another day."
Teàrlag's face flickered with anger at his dismissal, but the expression vanished so quickly that most missed it.She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a sensual whisper that somehow still carried to nearby ears."Of course.Perhaps afterwards we could meet in the usual place?"
Fiona quickly turned away, desperately trying to engage the woman beside her in conversation, but it seemed every eye in the hall was fixed on the drama unfolding at the high table.The humiliation burned through her.She was the bride, this was her wedding day, and yet she felt like an interloper watching her husband's reunion with his lover.
She tried to think of an excuse to leave the dais, to escape this nightmare, when Ewan's voice boomed across the hall.
"Let's have some dancing, shall we?"
"Yes, that would be nice," Fiona replied gratefully, desperate for any distraction.
"It's time the bride and groom started the real festivities," Ewan announced with a grin.
Fiona's heart sank.The last thing she wanted was to be the center of attention after what had just happened.
But Connor was already on his feet, his hand extended toward her."Come, wife.It's time we danced."
Before Fiona could retreat or protest, he had swept her up and was guiding her down to the floor.The hall erupted with excitement at the prospect of seeing the newlyweds dance, and Teàrlag was temporarily forgotten as clansmen and women pressed closer to watch.
Teàrlag, finding herself suddenly invisible and pushed aside by the crowd, retreated to the far side of the room, her face dark with fury.
Fiona managed weak smiles as people called out congratulations, but she could see the pity in many eyes rather than genuine happiness.They'd all witnessed her humiliation, and now they were trying to be kind about it.
Before she could sink further into mortification, Connor's hands framed her face, forcing her to look at him.
