Page 40 of The Ruthless Laird's Virgin
Music filled the hall. Dancers spun across the floor. The atmosphere became increasingly lively as the hours passed.
Eleanor remained safely near the wall with her arms tucked tightly around her waist as she watched Hamish’s every move. She spared a moment now and then to track down Callum, but he seemed to want to spend the time speaking with Iain and laughing at things that others said.
He is so handsome.
The thought made her blush as she looked toward the door and attempted to avoid seeing Callum again. At least until Fiona appeared. As far as she understood it, Fiona had not been to the castle in years, but she walked in with her head held high as if she had always belonged there.
Whispers followed behind her as she cut a path directly toward Eleanor. It was not until Callum raised a mug in greeting to her that everyone else seemed to ignore her presence and carry on with what they were doing.
“Ye look utterly lost, lass,” Fiona smiled at her, ignoring the looks from several women in passing.
Pushing herself off the wall, Eleanor smiled. “Not as out of place as ye seem to be,” she teased, welcoming the company of an old friend. The time she had spent with Fiona in the cabin had endeared her to the older woman, so much so that Eleanor felt as if they were old friends.
Fiona cackled as she stopped beside Eleanor and smiled. “I came at the request of the laird, who wished to speak with me, but he failed to mention that there was a Celeidh this evening.” She looked around the room in amusement.
“That makes two of us,” Eleanor almost sighed as she forced a smile.
Looking back at Eleanor, Fiona grinned. “Have ye nae been fittin’ in here at the castle, lass?”
“I have,” Eleanor answered almost defensively. “It is just that me time has been occupied… with other matters. She had meant that she had been busy trying to solve the mystery of her brother’s disappearance, but her mind had gone in an entirely different direction. A fact that Fiona seemed to pick up on.
A wry smile spread across the older woman’s lips. “Well, ye willnae make matters easier on yerself if ye stay hidden in a corner, lass.”
Eleanor’s heart instantly sank as she picked up on the teasing tone in Fiona’s voice. “Oh, nay, what are ye plannin’?”
Fiona's smile was entirely too innocent when she spoke again. “Ye must dance, lass.”
Her heart instantly sank into the pit of her stomach as Eleanor shook her head. “Nay, I cannae…”
Fiona narrowed her eyes. “Ye can and ye must. Ye are the laird’s bride.”
“But I am tryin’ to observe…” Her voice trailed off when Fiona grabbed her wrist and began to pull her toward the dancers.
Eleanor protested with all of her might, but found herself being met with unexpected strength. “Fiona!” She hissed under her breath.
People began to stare and laugh in their direction, and before she knew it, Eleanor was being pushed into the thick of things.
Several dancers immediately welcomed her into the line. Within moments, Eleanor found herself swept into the dance. She stumbled through the first few turns, missed a step, and nearly collided with an elderly woman. Yet she slowly began to find the rhythm.
Laughter escaped her throat, an unexpected sound that caught her off guard. The music was infectious while the joy around herwas impossible to resist. She soon forgot her reservations as the dancers linked arms and kicked their legs along to the tune. They moved around the room, reeling at the song until it came to an end.
Merriment bubbled forth until she found herself face-to-face with a familiar figure.
Callum.
He looked just as surprised as she did as he blinked at her. From somewhere behind him, Eleanor swore she could hear Fiona cackling.
For half a heartbeat, neither moved. Then the dance carried them together. His hand closed around hers, warm, strong, and firm, just as it had been that night in the study.
Eleanor's breath caught. The world tilted slightly as she found herself being guided against her will. The dance required them to turn. His hand remained in hers. Far longer than necessary. Or perhaps that was simply her imagination.
Callum's gaze never left her face. “You appear to be enjoying yerself,” The sound of his voice nearly disappeared beneath the music.
“Daenae, act so surprised,” she answered softly, feeling breathless at the sudden excursion and turn of events. How was it that Fiona seemed to have planned things so expertly? She hadbeen standing in the corner one moment, and the next she was dancing with Callum.
“I am merely observin’,” he said teasingly again.
The dance brought them closer, then apart, then together again. Each movement seemed designed to torment her. Every accidental touch and glance seemed far too familiar. Almost as if they had been dancing together for all their lives. They moved together effortlessly, anticipating each other’s moves with ease.
