Chapter 4

 

By the time Donald started to play a waltz, Elspeth had almost recovered from that astonishing conversation with Brody. Then her heart, barely back to beating at a normal rate, started to race again when the man she refused to love anymore strolled toward her on those long, powerful legs. He had almost reached her, and the breath jammed in her throat, and the room receded down a long tunnel, and…

“May I have this dance, sis?”

She blinked to bring the whirling scene back into focus. Hamish stood in front of her with his hand outstretched. She was nodding and rising from her chair, before the great weight of disappointment could crush her. Because a woman who didn’t love Brody Girvan had no right to feel devastated when she missed the chance to twirl around the room in his arms.

Brody paused a few feet away and invited Prudence to be his partner.

Elspeth made herself smile at Hamish. “Of course.”

Marina’s impromptu ball proved a great success. By the time Charles sat at the piano so Donald could dance with his wife, Elspeth had waltzed with every male in the room except Brody.

At the end of a cotillion, she saw him approaching, arm in arm with Marina, who looked flushed and happy. A pang of something that might have been jealousy—if she still cared for Brody—pricked Elspeth, before she noticed Fergus striding toward his wife. It was plain that all Marina’s rosy joy stemmed from the prospect of dancing with the man she loved.

“I’ve done my duty, mo chridhe,” Fergus said. “Can I dance with my wife now?”

Marina laughed and shot him a flirtatious glance from under her thick black eyelashes. “If you ask nicely, caro.”

“Nothing as poor spirited as that.” Fergus flashed her a smile. “I’m going to sweep you into my arms and out onto the dance floor, whether ye agree or not.”

Lucky Marina, Elspeth couldn’t help thinking. Brody stepped away from his hostess, as she took her husband’s hand. “I can’t wait.”

True to his word, Fergus whirled her out into the dance, leaving Elspeth alone with Brody. Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his and despite everything, she couldn’t stifle a thrill at the glittering look of triumph she discovered there.

“I’ve done my duty, too. Now I want to dance with ye.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Diarmid marching toward her with a determined expression. Quickly she stretched her hand out to Brody. “I’d be delighted.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.” His smile was no less piratical than Fergus’s.

The breath jammed in her throat at the magnificent sight of this man with his face creased in pleasure. When he caught her hand in a ruthless grip, anticipation rippled right to her toes in their blue satin dancing slippers.

She couldn’t contain another thrill as he slid one hard hand around her waist. They began to move with the lilting music. Diarmid had turned aside and was now dancing with her mother.

Elspeth was afraid she might stumble, now they waltzed together. In the past, the mere mention of Brody’s name was enough to make her butter-fingered and as clumsy as a newborn filly. Deciding she didn’t love him did wonders for her poise. Her feet fell into the pattern of the waltz as naturally as if she’d been born to dance with the Laird of Invermackie.

The room was large and the party was small, leaving Elspeth and Brody plenty of room to move without worrying about the other couples. The music swirling around them was the sweetest melody she’d ever heard. Heaven help her, this was like flying among the stars.

Once she realized she wasn’t going to disgrace herself on the dance floor, she met his green gaze. He was studying her with a dedicated concentration that made her heart crash into her ribs with forbidden excitement.

“We’ve never waltzed before,” he said, staring at her as if she was the prettiest girl in the world.

What a flirt he was. He just couldn’t help himself. Now she’d gained some distance from her adolescent yearnings, it was easy to see how he’d talked all those ladies into sin.

“The Douglas family parties have always been too staid for such a scandalous new dance.” Thank goodness, she even managed to put a few words together without sounding like a tongue-tied ninny. Not being in love was good for her. She should have tried it long ago. “If people had waltzed at one of Hamish’s Christmas celebrations, Aunt Agatha would have had a fit. She doesn’t much approve of dancing at the best of times.”

The heat from Brody’s touch seemed to seep through her whole body. When his large hand shifted to bring her closer, she caught the drift of his scent over the fresh sap of the pine branches decorating the room. Sandalwood soap. Young, healthy male. Something intriguing and spicy that she suspected might belong just to him.

Sharing his scent was breathtakingly intimate, although a few inches of space still separated them and kept the dance—almost—proper. Her silly heart started to turn somersaults, even as she gave it a stern lecture about how it should behave with a mere acquaintance.

“Good God, then she’d have a heart attack if she could see all this unbridled license tonight,” Brody said drily. “People in each other’s arms? Disgusting!”

“I’ve always been terrified of her. She’s wont to lecture me on propriety.”

“Then to the devil with the old besom.”

Elspeth cast him an uncertain look. Brody couldn’t be hinting that he’d like to lure her into some bad behavior. Heavens above, he’d never even looked at her before tonight, and she was well aware that she wasn’t a girl a rake would find of interest.

She retreated to a neutral statement. “Marina is going to ring in a lot of changes, I think.”

“God bless Marina.” When he smiled down at Elspeth, her heart performed a few more giddy acrobatics. She couldn’t help it, and she refused to apologize for a feminine reaction that meant nothing beyond the enjoyment of the moment. When such a handsome man exercised his attractions, any lady would feel a flutter or two.

“I always imagined Fergus would marry someone meek and obedient. She’s such a lovely surprise.”

Brody performed a turn that made her head spin. By the time she caught her breath, the couple of inches between them had shrunk to a tiny gap that would horrify Aunt Agatha. Elspeth made a half-hearted attempt to establish a greater distance, but that firm grip at her waist wouldn’t budge.

“She’s not the only lovely surprise.”

This time, even a woman determined to cling to good sense couldn’t mistake his meaning. She sent him a repressive glance. “Brody, don’t waste your time flirting with me. I’m frightfully dull.”

He laughed, and she saw Diarmid shoot them a disapproving look. Then she caught Marina’s eye. Marina didn’t look disapproving at all.

Brody’s sensual lips lifted in a sardonic curl. “I’m not wasting my time, you strange and enchanting lassie.”

For a moment, the room vanished, and all she saw was that dark, striking face with its brilliant green eyes and commanding blade of a nose. Then she remembered that she’d vowed to be sensible when it came to this man. “You’re trying to turn my head.”

He arched one black eyebrow. “Am I succeeding?”

“No,” she said, although even now, she wasn’t sure about that. “There must be better targets for all this charm.”

He was still smiling down at her as if he really was enchanted. “You think I’m charming?”

This onslaught of masculine interest was all too heady for her. And unfair. Not to mention a little cruel. Because while Elspeth might have banished her ludicrous adolescent tendre for him, she wasn’t immune to his appeal. While every minute proved that she’d aimed way above her touch when she’d set her sights on him.

Resentment sneaked out to color her response. “Does it matter what I think, when you’re so convinced yourself?”

He looked startled and for a moment, she caught a hint of what might be injured feelings. Then his eyes sharpened in a way that sent a chill of disquiet rushing down her spine. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there, Elspeth?”

“I hope so,” she retorted.

“I look forward to unwrapping the layers.”

It seemed she possessed a wanton imagination. Who would have guessed? While she knew he couldn’t mean those words in a literal sense, she couldn’t help picturing him removing her clothes, and…

Elspeth stumbled, and his grip on her waist tightened. She hoped to heaven she wasn’t blushing, but when she met knowing dark eyes, she was sure she was.

“Watch your step,” he murmured.

“Oh, I will,” she said, finding her balance again.

She waited for another mocking response, but instead he led her through a series of dizzying turns that set her heart racing. It was almost worse when he didn’t talk. The silence left her too conscious of that tall, elegant body moving close to hers. He looked marvelous in the kilt, as rugged and untamed as this beautiful land where he belonged.

Because the dance was informal, they weren’t wearing gloves as they would at a society ball. With her hand resting in his, she couldn’t ignore his warmth and strength. The very air conspired against her. Every breath she took was tinged with the tangy essence of Brody. It was a good thing she’d decided to outgrow her love for him, because if she hadn’t, she’d soon go quite daft.

“What are ye thinking about?” he asked softly.

“The scenery,” she said, which was true, if not the whole truth.

A brief huff of amusement escaped him. “That’s a shame. When we dance, I want you to think of me.”

She shot him a critical stare. “You’re flirting again.”

He shrugged and swept her into another turn. “I can’t help myself. Every time I do, ye look like a startled deer.”

It was her turn to laugh, although with a hint of chagrin. “Given you couldn’t remember my name this morning, you can’t blame me for finding your behavior a little puzzling.”

He didn’t smile but subjected her to an assessing stare that had her blushing again, although she wasn’t sure why. “Of course I remembered your name.” He paused. “And if I’ve been guilty of overlooking you in the past, that’s because you set out to be overlooked.”

His perception surprised her. She’d always been in awe of his spectacular looks. Now she wondered if she’d misjudged the brain behind those cool green eyes. Fergus was clever. It wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that Brody was, too.

Was there a chance that she’d underestimated him, just as he’d underestimated her?

The waltz came to an end and saved her from having to respond to his last uncomfortable remark. Charles was closing the music and standing up from the piano. Marina and Fergus devoured one another with their eyes. The others stood around, talking and laughing.

Elspeth waited for Brody to lead her off the dance floor, but he kept his hand on her waist, anchoring her to the spot. “I suppose I should let ye go.”

Drat. This time, she was sure she looked like a startled deer, much as she disliked the description. “It’s bedtime.”

He gave a mock groan. “I know.”

She frowned. “You’re being wicked again.”

“Aye, I am.” His smile was unrepentant. “Can I see ye tomorrow?”

She should move away, return to her mother, but some weak, female part of her liked the possessive weight of his hand on her waist. “Of course you’ll see me tomorrow. It’s not as if I’ll get lost in the crowd. There are only eleven people in the party, if you don’t count the children.”

He was staring at her as if he’d like to eat her up. Almost like Fergus stared at his wife.

She shivered. Her romantic interest in Brody had been a young girl’s ardent passion for an unattainable prince, essentially innocent. But today, something had changed between them. The attraction she felt—that any woman would feel, she assured herself—was much more adult.

She would no longer dream of Brody falling to his knees before her and declaring eternal devotion. Now she got to know him better, she realized that wasn’t his style at all. Instead, she had an unwelcome inkling that tonight, her dreams would be full of his hands on her body and kisses that were hungry rather than worshipful.

“You ken what I mean,” he said steadily.

Not altogether, but she had a clue. “Yes, you can see me tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait.” He released her waist and before she had a chance to regret her promise, he caught her hand and brought it to his lips.

For a brief charged moment, she felt the heat of his mouth on her skin, then she was free. “Good night, sweet Elspeth. Dream of me.”

Curse him, she had a horrid feeling she would. “Good night,” she stammered, then turned with relief when her mother came up to her.

“Lady Glen Lyon,” Brody said, bowing. “It’s been a bonny evening.”

“It has.” Her mother spent a few moments sparkling at him before she turned toward the door, taking Elspeth’s arm. “My, oh, my, that Brody Girvan is a fine-looking man.”

“Yes, he is,” Elspeth said, with difficulty keeping her voice steady. Her fingers still tingled after that brief kiss, and she surreptitiously opened and closed her hand behind the flare of her skirt.

“And how he does love to charm the ladies. I hope he’s not finding this party too dull, where the only unattached females are a woman old enough to be his mother and a shy little mouse like you.”

Just like that, the burgeoning happiness in Elspeth’s heart shriveled to a bitter absence. Her feet had felt lighter than air when she danced. Now they felt as if someone had strapped lead bars to her soles.

What a pathetic nitwit she was. Brody was making the best of a bad situation. How could she have missed that the pickings at Achnasheen were slim for a man who liked female attention?

All that burning focus on her had been a game. She was the only available woman. Or at least the only one at a susceptible age. Of course his interest wasn’t genuine.

As if it would be.

When nasty reality set its claws into Elspeth, something in her revolted at always being belittled and disregarded. Brody had made a fool of her tonight, but he wouldn’t find her so easy to ignore again.

Her mother might deride her meager attractions, but Marina said she had potential, and Marina was clever and perceptive. Be damned if Elspeth would ever let anyone call her a mouse again.