After a bit, Cameron and Lachlan departed the head table themselves and went out to dance a jig. Graham insisted on trying to dance and even challenged both brothers to a contest where the winner got to pick the lass he wished to dance with for the rest of the night. Bridgette sat with Rory Mac and found her gaze wandering repeatedly back to Lachlan, despite her effort not to look at him. When Graham caught her eye and winked at her, her face heated with guilt.
She could tell by his erratic movements and the pinched expression that kept crossing his face, that dancing, even as tamely as he was, caused him great pain. Finally, the song ended and Marion and Iain whispered conspiratorially to each other, likely to choose the winner. Suddenly, Iain’s jaw dropped open, and then he grinned and gathered Marion into his arms to give her a passionate kiss.
Cheers erupted in the hall, and Bridgette grinned, suspecting that Marion had just given Iain the news.
“Who’s the winner?” Graham demanded as the cheers died down. He rubbed at his leg, and she could see the sweat on his brow glistening.
“Aye,” Lachlan added. “Which of us has triumphed?”
“I’m certain I’m the winner,” Cameron said, crowing with laughter.
“Nay, I’m the winner,” Iain announced. “I’ve a bairn on the way!”
With that, Iain leaped over the table and attempted to dance a jig, making Bridgette laugh. But the laughter died on her lips as Lachlan took to the dance floor with one of the servants, Lillias, who was not shy about lusting after him. She glanced around the great hall but did not see Helena.
As Lillias threw her head back and laughed at something Lachlan had said, jealousy flared in Bridgette’s chest, followed swiftly by shame when she noted Graham walking slowly and awkwardly toward her and Rory Mac.
“Iain has declared Lachlan the winner,” Graham muttered as he clutched his leg.
Bridgette frowned, though Lachlan had clearly been the best dancer. “Why is Lachlan nae dancing with Helena?”
“Because a man like my brother could nae ever be faithful to one woman. He’s always had a different lass in his bed near every night,” Graham said in a bitter tone. “I dunnae think he intends to change, either. I feel terrible for Helena. I spoke to her earlier, and she worships Lachlan.”
Bridgette inhaled sharply at both the jealousy in Graham’s voice and the accusation that Lachlan would not be faithful to Helena. Was that true? Her gaze flew once more to Lachlan. He looked very much like a man going through the motions of dancing but not enjoying it, yet Lillias clung to him, her brown eyes trained on him. She smiled up at him with a mixture of lust and adoration that made Bridgette want to slap the woman.
“Ye speak harshly of yer brother,” Rory Mac chided. “And I dunnae ken Helena is as sweet and warm as she seems.”
Graham frowned. “What makes ye say such a thing?”
Rory Mac shrugged as an uncomfortable look flittered across his face. “Just a feeling,” he mumbled, but Bridgette noted that the tips of his ears had turned deep red and she suspected he was not telling the whole truth. Her heart skipped several beats.
Had Lachlan pledged a future with Helena for some reason other than love or even desire? She should not question his reasons—they were his alone to know—but even as she told herself this, she felt her lips forming a question. She faced Rory Mac so she could carefully watch his face when she asked, “Dunnae it seem odd that the Campbell would propose his daughter marry a MacLeod, given the Campbells dunnae particularly care for the MacLeods?”
Rory Mac’s eyes had grown round, giving Bridgette pause. Was her question too obviously intrusive? Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck tingled, and an overpowering heat kissed her back. A woodsy, masculine scent swirled around her. She knew without question that Lachlan stood behind her. Slowly, she turned, her gaze traveling lightning-quick up his broach chest, past his strong jaw, to his full lips, which were quirked ever so slightly, as if he was unsure whether to smile or not. Finally, she met his gaze. For one breath, she thought she saw bafflement there, but the moment disappeared the way a white ring of exhalation vanishes on a cold winter day. His russet eyelashes lowered, and when they raised once more, she read only amusement in his eyes.
“Surely ye ken well enough, Bridgette, that alliances are made all the time between two houses seeking peace, and that it’s nae odd,” Lachlan said, his voice brushing like silk against her ears.
She struggled to control her body’s reaction to his nearness, managing to suppress all but the need to swallow. Yet to her ears, the noise was deafening and betrayed her. A quick glance at Rory Mac and Graham told her they had not noted anything, but Lachlan… Had his eyes narrowed a fraction? She pondered it for a second before she realized the silence had grown and he was waiting on her to answer.
“Is that what yer pledge to Helena is?” she asked, cursing herself for the clawing need to know. “An alliance between two clans hoping for peace?”
Lachlan offered an easy smile that made her chest tighten mercilessly. “Nay, lass. What I have with Helena is born of desire.”
Searing heat flooded her cheeks and spread rapidly down her neck and across her chest. She wished to heaven she’d never asked. It was far worse knowing than not. She struggled to find a suitable reply that would not give away her anguish when Graham spoke. He stepped around Bridgette and clapped Lachlan on the shoulder.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Graham said. His unusual friendliness toward Lachlan made Bridgette momentarily frown, but she forced a smile when Graham’s gaze landed on her. “I dunnae think I’ve ever seen ye speechless, Bridgette.”
“Bridgette!” Marion called from amid the dancers, startling Bridgette. She looked at her friend, grateful for the interruption. “Come! Dance with us!” Marion motioned between herself and Iain, and Bridgette.
She barely stopped herself from gaping at Marion. Her friend knew very well dancing pained Graham! Bridgette had a strong suspicion Marion was meddling again.
“Do ye wish to dance, Bridgette?” Graham asked softly.
“Nay!” she immediately replied, even as her gaze strayed to the couples laughing and twirling. When she glanced back at Graham, he looked disgruntled and irritable.
“Graham, ye best take some advice from me,” Rory Mac spoke suddenly. “I ken from marriage to Alanna that when a lass adamantly replies nay to something, she really means aye.”
“Ye dunnae ken what ye’re talking about,” Bridgette snapped at Rory Mac, but the maddening Scot chuckled in response.
