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“Aye, ye gave yer word.” Davina brushed a smudge of dirt off her cloak. “I, however, made no such promise.”

Chapter Twelve

James waited until the evening meal was being served before entering the great hall. Though Christmas was two days away, it was already bedecked in holiday greenery. A cheerful buzz could be heard throughout the vast chamber. The mood was festive and for a moment he allowed himself to relax as he tried to enjoy it.

Aye, this was the reason he returned home. To once again experience the security of being surrounded by those you could trust. To witness the joy found in simple pleasures. Plentiful, warm food, a comfortable bed, the companionship of family and friends. Lord knows, there had been far too little of that while living the life of a Crusader.

James’s eyes scanned the hall slowly as the sights, sounds, and smells washed over him. Christmas was a time of hope and renewal. He’d be wise to savor this moment, rather than reliving the haunting bitterness and disappointments of the past.

The tables were filled with smiling men and women, feasting on the hot food. A group of lads and lasses ran eagerly through the hall, tying sprigs of evergreens to the legs of the tables. He spied his page, Colin, among their numbers, surprised to see the dour lad with a broad smile upon his face.

Stacks of long, thick logs were positioned near the three fireplaces. The largest would be saved to light on Christmas Eve, a tradition symbolizing the hope that the clan would stay warm throughout the cold winter months ahead.

His late arrival to the meal gave him the opportunity to study Davina without her knowing. She was seated in her usual place at the high table, beside his mother, head bowed, expression intense. The conversation between the two women appeared to be rather one-sided—his mother spoke and Davina listened, every now and again nodding her head.

Davina had changed for the meal into what he assumed was a more fashionable gown. Made of deep blue velvet, it had a tight, fitted bodice and a round neckline embroidered with silver thread. It emphasized the womanly curves of her body in an oddly modest way, yet still managed to heighten her female allure.

God help him, she was lovely. Irresistible, really. Could he find it within himself to stay away? Or was the reward of getting close to her worth the risk?

True, he had seen bonnier women. Flaxen-haired beauties from the north, dark, exotic females from the east. But there was something about Davina that reached deep inside him, took hold, and refused to let go.

She sipped from her goblet, her tongue darting out to lick away a few stray droplets of wine on her lips. They glistened plump and rosy in the candlelight and James’s body heated with the memory of nearly kissing her this afternoon. Shifting his feet, he took a deep breath and shook his head.

Two more deep breaths and he had his passion under control. Only then did he approach the dais.

“Where is Lileas?” James asked, as he took the seat beside his brother.

“In bed,” Malcolm replied. “I guess yer outing this afternoon tired her out.”

“Aye,’twas an adventure.” James concealed a sly grin behind his hand. “Did she tell ye anything about it?”

“Nay, she was nearly asleep on her feet, poor mite. I imagine I’ll hear all about it tomorrow.”

“No doubt.” James’s glance darted to Davina. She lifted her brow, then shook her head, letting him know she had not said anything. Yet.

At first the notion of telling Malcolm about Lileas’s little adventure—as he now referred to it in his mind—had seemed like a betrayal of Lileas’s trust. But the more he thought about it, the more James realized that Davina was right. There was no doubt that Malcolm realized his daughter was a handful, but his brother needed to know exactly how defiant the lass could be, in order to keep her safe.

Nay, he would not try to stop Davina if she spoke with Malcolm, though he would ask her to wait a day or two. ’Twould be a good lesson in responsibility if they could convince Lileas to reveal the incident to her father herself.

“I, fer one, am not at all surprised the lass is sound asleep,” the McKenna offered. “James brought back enough greenery to fill a forest. He must have dragged the child through miles of woods to collect it all.”

“Aye, but I’m the one that captured the most elusive prize while hunting game this morning,” Malcolm said in a swaggering tone. “Mistletoe!”

Their sister, Katherine, recently returned from her religious pilgrimage, let loose a most unladylike snort. “Naturally, Malcolm would make the extra effort to search for mistletoe.”

“He’s always keen to kiss a pretty lass,” the McKenna agreed.

The back of James’s neck itched in warning, for he knew precisely which pretty lass Malcolm intended to kiss. He clutched his goblet a bit tighter as he struggled to master his emotions. This wasn’t the time or place for a confrontation with his brother.

“Mistletoe is forbidden by the Church, is it not?” Davina asked.

Lady Aileen shrugged. “Many priests willnae allow it to be displayed on the altar, and we respect that decree. But the McKenna hold fast to the traditions of our clan, even though some might refer to them as pagan. We see no reason not to have bunches of festive mistletoe brighten the great hall.”

“Is it not dangerous?” Davina frowned in confusion. “I thought the plant was poisonous.”

“Aye, it can be, though most who are foolish enough to eat it suffer with sickness, not death,” James replied. “When I was six, I swallowed one of the berries.”

“On my dare,” Malcolm added cheerfully.