Page 16 of A Temptress in Tartan

“It should frighten all of us.”

Elizabeth clenched her fists, wanting desperately to turn the conversation to other things. “Shall we take our seats as well? We’ve kept them from their meal long enough.”

Lachlan nodded and guided her toward the seats reserved for them at the head table beside Cameron and his men. Mariam sat at the opposite end of the long table, but that did not stop her from glancing their way time and again while the meal was served.

The meal was an affair of roast stag, three roasted swans, turnips and boiled carrots, onions, leeks, and an assortment of tarts and fresh apples to finish the meal. When they were satiated, the tables were removed and the evening’s entertainment began, first with a piper, then with two musicians carrying a flute and a lute, followed by madrigal singers. When the applause and cheers died down, Mariam turned toward Elizabeth and said, “Perhaps Elizabeth could grace us with a song?”

Elizabeth startled and felt a blush come to her cheeks as all eyes once again turned to her. “Nay. I do not like to sing for others.”

Mariam narrowed her gaze. “Then you do sing.”

“Everyone sings, just not around others,” she replied as heat rushed, hotter and brighter, to her cheeks.

“Since you do sing, you should sing for us. After all, this celebration is in your honor. Shouldn’t you give something back to those who are celebrating you?” Mariam asked, looking as innocent as a cat with feathers protruding from its mouth.

A round of passionate “ayes” rose around her and Elizabeth felt herself shrinking into a deeper sense of mortification.

“My bride does not need to perform for you,” Lachlan said in a stilted voice.

“You’re embarrassed for her. How sweet,” Mariam said with a self-satisfied smile.

Despite the shivers of apprehension that traveled through Elizabeth, she stood, then moved to the front of the chamber. She drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began to sing a Gaelic song her mother had taught her before she’d died. “A ghaoil, leig dhachaigh gum mhàthair mi.” She started softly at first, until she opened her eyes to find the others now looked at her not with loathing, but surprise. Feeling more confident, she continued the hypnotic and mysterious song that told of a young girl’s encounter with the ‘each-uisge’ or water-horse.

When she was done, silence settled all around her until Cameron stood, looking around and clapping. Soon the entire room stood and applauded, all except Mariam, whose features were thunderous.

Cameron came forward and clasped her hands in his. “That song. Where did you learn it?”

“From my mother who learned it from her mother. For generations the women in my family have passed down that song.”

Cameron nodded. His eyes were bright and twinkling. “It awakens the heart to the ages gone by. Well done, Elizabeth.”

“Thank you,” she stammered, glancing over at Lachlan, more eager than she dared to admit to see his response. But it was a little frightening too, seeing him look at her with confidence in his eyes.

The chairs were removed in preparation for dancing as the piper started to play once more, filling the silence and diverting the attention from her. For that Elizabeth was grateful as she returned to Lachlan’s side.

“You’re a fine singer. The best I’ve ever heard.”

The words, true or not, ran over her like honey. “Liar,” she teased. “But thank you.”

Lachlan chuckled and the sound washed over her in another wave of delight. How long had it been since she’d felt such simple pleasure? Too long. The last time she’d sung in a crowd it had been with her mother when she was a child. She had been happy then and had thought the world would always be like that.

It wasn’t. When her mother died, she’d learned the hard, cruel reality of life. Her father had tried to comfort her in his own way, but things were never the same.

Regardless of how he meant things, only two days in Lachlan’s presence and she’d regained some of the things that had been missing from her life—laughter, belonging, and song. He’d helped guide her back to those things all while she had been nothing but terrible to him. She closed her eyes as a chill replaced her warmth. Then suddenly, she felt a touch against her cheek. She flicked her eyes open.

“Elizabeth?”

“I’m sorry,” she interrupted, needing to get her apology off her chest. “I’ve been horrible to you since the beginning of this journey. That’s not me. That’s not who I am.” She looked around the room at the others who were engaged in conversations and laughing, enjoying themselves. “I was acting as everything they believe a Ruthven to be. But I am not those things. I’m not.” She turned back to him, trying to steady the trembling in her fingers, and the quick, loud pounding of her heart.

“We just need to prove that to everyone else.” His eyes were sharp reflections of color in the candlelight. And yet, there was a spark of something she hadn’t seen in them before—something that pulled at her heart and made her feel warm and shaky again.

He took a half-step toward her. “Elizabeth—”

“Elizabeth.” Cameron was suddenly beside them, his face lit with curiosity as his gaze passed between herself and Lachlan. “The dancing is about to start. I would like the first dance to be with you, my lady.”

Lachlan stepped back. His eyes shielded now. “Of course. You are the laird of the castle.”

Elizabeth felt a stab of regret. Before she could object, Cameron guided her to the middle of the chamber where other dancers had assembled in a line. The musicians were positioned at the back of the chamber, giving the dancers plenty of room to maneuver. The music started and the dance began first with a promenade, then with a twirl of joined hands before they returned to their positions.