Page 15 of A Little Highland Magic

Chapter Five

Aria wasn’t certain what she had expected Gwendolyn and Fiona to do as they prepared her for the evening ahead, but the result was nothing short of magical. The women had spent the remainder of the day with her, walking along the loch. They had reinforced what they had accomplished in the lists by planting seeds of hope within Aria’s heart that her life could be about more than simply warring. Then later that evening, upstairs in Aria’s chamber, the women began their transformation.

“What do you think?” Gwendolyn asked as both she and Fiona shook out Aria’s skirts and gazed upon her with affectionate smiles. Their efforts had brought forth a far more sophisticated style than Aria was used to wearing. Her hair had been caught up in an elegant knot at the crown of her head with soft snow-white tendrils left to frame her face. Gwendolyn had lent her a pair of sapphire earrings that sparkled at her lobes.

Unlike Aria’s other gowns, which were usually earthy tones of green and brown, this dress Fiona had lent her was a rich sapphire blue. Panels of blue silk and lace were folded at an angle and fitted to hug her breasts and waist, flattering her figure and accentuating her small waist and ample bosom, before falling to the floor in a swirl of blue silk. “This is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever worn.”

“Then consider it yours,” Fiona said with a smile.

“Nay,” Aria protested. “I couldn’t.”

“I insist. Our laundress and seamstress, Roberta, will make more dresses for you when the clothier comes to Dunvegan next month.”

Aria’s cheeks warmed. “You have all been so kind to me since my arrival.”

“You are family, Aria. We take care of our own.” Gwendolyn’s voice was soft, but firm. “If you like what we have done, then let us all proceed downstairs.”

“I approve. I never imagined I could look so—”

“Feminine?” Fiona offered.

“Human,” Aria said with a soft chuckle. It was a part of herself she had always tried to bring forth but had failed in her attempts while living in Fairyland.

“Your transformation required no magic. After all, you are half human and all MacLeod.” Gwendolyn’s blue eyes warmed as she took Aria’s hand and escorted her towards the door. “Fiona and I will go down first, then you can make your entrance behind us. We want all eyes on you.”

Aria waited at the top of the staircase as Fiona and Gwendolyn disappeared below. Most of the time when she entered a room, all the gazes turned to her anyway, both in Fairyland and in the human realm. The women usually looked away quickly, but the men’s gazes lingered, often revealing either contempt or intrigue. Over the years she had erected walls around her emotions to keep herself from being hurt by either response. This evening, Gwendolyn and Fiona had encouraged her to lower her defences and to let whatever unfolded occur.

Her heart racing in her chest, Aria gripped the railing beside her with more force than was necessary as she started down the staircase then down the hallway to the entrance of the great hall. She paused just outside the doorway, as loneliness, excitement, and anxiety all raced through her, coalescing in the pit of her stomach. Five steps forward and she would be visible to everyone inside where she would see either acceptance or rejection on the faces of those within the chamber.

Knowing she could not delay much longer, or Gwendolyn and Fiona would come to get her, Aria drew a deep breath and entered the room. A few steps into the chamber she paused for a moment to scan the guests, wondering where Fiona and Gwendolyn had gone. She saw them gathered with their husbands and some of the MacDonald men only a few yards away, and when Gwendolyn lifted her hand in a beckoning wave Aria nodded and smiled.

The smile still on her lips she started towards them, then froze when her gaze connected with a pair of startled blue eyes. Standing with a group of MacLeod warriors to the right of Gwendolyn and Fiona, Graeme watched her, his glass of whisky arrested halfway to his lips. His bold gaze swept from the top of her white hair, over her breasts and hips, right down to her blue satin slippers, then abruptly it lifted back to her face. He cocked an eyebrow and gave her a nod as admiration gleamed in his eyes. He lifted his glass in a subtle toast before he took a sip of his whisky.

Aria’s pulse raced and her mind was in complete confusion at his response. Even though they were surrounded by a hundred people, the appreciation in Graeme’s eyes had made her feel as though they were sharing a private moment. She remained frozen in place as Graeme handed his glass to a passing servant and started towards her.

Dressed in the blue and green MacLeod tartan, a white ruffled shirt and tall black boots, Graeme looked more like a refined laird than the leader of a military battalion. Even though no one could argue his respectability, he wore no jacket or waistcoat like the MacLeod laird and his brothers. Graeme’s shirt parted at the neck, providing a peek at his muscled chest, accentuating just how incredibly powerful his body was. Unexpected warmth coiled through Aria and became a pulsing heat the moment she lifted her gaze to his.

He stopped before her and focused hungrily on her lips, and she saw an answering heat and longing in the depths of his blue eyes. His jaw flexed rigidly as if he were fighting himself. “You look different this evening.” His voice was low and smooth.

Before she could stop it, instinct flared and her hand drifted to her side, searching for the sword she usually kept there until she remembered she’d left her weapons abovestairs at Gwendolyn’s insistence. Aria drew a breath, then released it. Graeme most likely did not mean to insult her. “If you mean that in a positive way, then thank you.”

“I meant it as a compliment.” He offered her a playful wink. “You outshine everyone in this chamber tonight.”

Aria could not hide the pleasure his words brought as she returned his smile. Before she could respond, the skirl of a bagpipe sounded and began to play the song she recognised as ‘Taladh na mna Sithe’, ‘The Fairy’s Lullaby’. It was the very same song her mother had sung to Aria each night while she was briefly a child in Fairyland. Her mother must have taught it to her other child, but it was the first time since Aria had joined the MacLeods that she had heard the Gaelic lullaby. “Do the pipers play that song often?”

“Only when we have special guests, like tonight, or every single time Callum brings out his mandolin,” Graeme said with a laugh as he offered her his arm. She accepted, allowing him to lead her across the room and to the high table where they would be seated with their MacDonald guests for the banquet.

The music must have been a signal to take their seats because the others followed suit just as Mrs Honey and her staff appeared carrying laden platters and bowls. The meal was laid before them and included smoked salmon; mushroom, leek, and potato soup with crusty bread; roasted venison with juniper berries and marmalade; roasted pheasants with apricots and dates; carrots and turnips; double cheese thyme tart; and for dessert bread pudding with caramel whisky sauce.

Graeme ate heartily. “All the battling today has left me famished,” he explained between bites.

Aria ate as well. Human food was ever so much more flavourful than what was traditionally served in Fairyland. Between bites she studied the man beside her beneath lowered lashes. He smiled between bites, truly enjoying each morsel. His dark brown hair shone with rich highlights that she knew were a result of his days in the lists beneath the mild Scottish sunshine. He had a lean, square jaw and wide, sensual mouth. Up close, his eyes appeared darker, but a stray shaft of light revealed steel blue depths that hinted at dark secrets and dangerous passions. Arched above were dark eyebrows the same colour as his hair, yet one of them was slashed through with a fine white scar she had never noticed before. A token from a previous battle she would guess.

As he reached for his claret and took a drink, his arm accidentally brushed against her. Aria startled as warmth curled in her stomach. He set his glass down and turned to her.

“You were very brave this morning to take on all of the MacDonalds by yourself.” His voice was deep and cultured, betraying his education. The burr of his accent was less pronounced when he spoke with her than with his men, she suddenly realised. It was as if he put careful thought into what he said to her and how he said it.

“I was never in any danger. They did not want to hurt me, but to understand how a female could best them in battle when they are twice my size.”