Page 16 of A Bride for the Wicked Highlander (Daring a Highland Laird #2)

“ I knew he would do this,” Maddie hissed at Grace, gulping down a mouthful of an unknown drink, so tart and delicious that she wanted twenty of them.

“I told him last night that it wouldn’t serve us well if he looked indifferent—averse, even—to our union.

Not showing up to a dinner with friends is one thing but avoiding me at our own wedding celebrations is quite another.

His council keep staring, and I can’t tell if they pity me or they’re already conspiring to get rid of me. ”

Ripping meat off a duck leg with all the decorum of a feral beast, Grace’s eyes twinkled with mirth.

“His council are staring because they’re men, and you are probably the most beautiful woman they have ever seen in real life.

” She swallowed her mouthful, her lips glistening.

“If it were to do with your position here, their wives wouldn’t be glaring at you. ”

“Nonsense. I look no different from any other bride I’ve seen. True, I have only seen two in my life, but that’s neither here nor there,” Maddie insisted. “ He is the one I care about.”

Grace raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Maddie hurried to retort, rolling her eyes.

“I can’t fathom why he doesn’t see the importance of us pretending to be united.

He should be standing here with me, feeding me.

.. I don’t know... berries or tarts or something.

He should be filling my cup. He should be inviting me to sit next to him at the table.

He should be leading me to the dance floor.

All the things a husband should do for a wife on their wedding day, to make it known that he likes her. ”

All the things I watched Hunter do for you on yours, she neglected to add, in case it made her sound the least bit envious.

She clicked her tongue. “We had a conversation about respect, and he is ignoring it entirely.”

She gulped down another mouthful as memories of the loch shore paraded through her mind.

Namely, the disrespectful nature of what he’d said he wanted to do to her.

She hadn’t been able to dispel that particular part of the conversation from her mind, utterly bewildered—and more than a little intrigued—as to what he could have meant.

His kiss had been fierce and fervent, but she wouldn’t have called it “disrespectful”. He’d stopped when she’d shoved him in the chest, after all. A disrespectful man would have tried to kiss her again, yet he hadn’t even kissed her at the altar.

As if I would beg to feel your lips on mine in a church, of all places.

Her lips tingled, taunting her, stoking up a heat that she prayed wouldn’t make it to her cheeks.

At her side, Grace chuckled. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You should be delighted that he is not crowding you or attempting to be close to you.” She paused, taking a pointed bite of her duck leg. “Unless, of course, you want him to pay attention to you?”

“For appearances, it would be the courteous thing to do,” Maddie corrected stiffly. “For myself, I don’t much care what he does. I only care how his behavior reflects on me today. I can’t have him ignoring me, then stealing away with some other woman, with so many people watching.”

He wouldn’t do that, would he? She hadn’t noticed him gazing at any of the myriad beautiful women who were in attendance, but perhaps his charms were such that he didn’t need to look first. He could just tap a woman on the shoulder, take her by the hand, and she’d be his for the night.

The thought struck her under the ribs, pushing the air from her lungs. An odd, hot feeling splintered down into her stomach, as if the somewhat sour drink didn’t quite agree with her.

“Maybe, he thinks he is being respectful by not being near you,” Grace suggested. “Giving you your freedom to enjoy the celebrations as you see fit.”

Maddie sniffed. “I don’t think that’s it.”

“But you didn’t let him kiss you at the wedding,” Grace said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “If I were him, I would take that as a warning not to approach.”

Maddie eyed her friend, holding onto the last thread of her temper.

Is that what everyone at the wedding thought, that it was she who had refused the kiss?

The priest could have been forgiven for believing that, since she’d spoken to him directly, but she figured it was fairly obvious that Oscar had been the one to forego the “Scottish customs”.

In truth, it stung a little, that Grace was defending Oscar.

“You could always approach him, ” Grace continued, oblivious, “if you aren’t happy with spending the gathering apart.

I adore you, Maddie, with all my heart, but you aren’t always the easiest person to read.

There’s a place that you seem to go to in your own mind, sometimes, and none of us can follow.

I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Oscar just.. . doesn’t know what to do.”

Maddie frowned at the suggestion, turning her gaze toward her husband. He stood with Betty-Ann, a cup of spiced wine in his hand; the first she’d seen him touch since they returned from the church. Not quite what she’d anticipated from someone with a known talent for drinking and merrymaking.

His eyebrows rose in surprise as he looked back at her, but then the weathered maid said something to him and he turned away, denying Maddie his attention once more.

“That is how I’ve always been,” she said quietly, more to herself than to her friend.

“I had to be unreadable. I had to have a place in my mind where I could retreat to, and... I won’t apologize for it.

It has served me well across the two decades of my life.

Besides, he didn’t seem to mind me being myself before.

He never minded bothering me before either. ”

But that’s not true, is it? her mind whispered, for it was Oscar who’d deliberately stayed away last night. She was the one who’d disturbed him . She was the one who’d gone looking for him, instead of realizing that, if he wasn’t where he was supposed to be, he likely had a good reason.

“He wasn’t your husband then,” Grace said gently. “Marriage... changes things, regardless of the kind of marriage it is. It binds you together, and some respond by pulling away, others respond by getting closer. Sometimes, it starts one way and slowly transitions into the other.”

Maddie laughed, though it echoed hollow. “I’m not sure how objective your advice is when you have the happiest of unions with your husband. You would recommend marriage to everyone, believing every instance has the same potential as your marriage to Hunter.”

“And who is to say that you and Oscar don’t have that potential?

” Grace said with a mischievous smile. “There’s something there; I haven’t been here long, and I’ve noticed it.

Whether it’s a good something or a bad something remains to be seen, but no two people get so annoyed with one another if there’s no. .. frisson .”

Maddie shook her head. “I would need to study a much larger pool of evidence before I could even consider agreeing with that statement. Although, I’d wager you’d find plenty of pairs who annoy one another who actually can’t stand each other.”

“And what if they are the outliers?” Grace replied with a grin, nudging Maddie lightly in the ribs with her elbow.

“Again, I would need to do the research,” Maddie mumbled, searching the nearby vicinity for another tray of that sour-sweet drink to wet her dry throat.

She didn’t know why but speaking of Oscar had this peculiar ability to parch her.

Probably, because of all the unfamiliar heat that coursed through her veins at the same time, springing up from wells of embarrassment that hadn’t been tapped in years.

Embarrassment and... a feeling she didn’t dare to name, in case that gave it power. Yet, it was something like desire.

“Madeleine Blaine, I dare you,” Grace said suddenly.

Maddie’s brow furrowed, her mouth opening in surprise. It was undeniably strange to hear her new name, the sound of it not quite fitting.

“We never got to do your dare or Lilian’s, so here it is,” Grace continued, jittering with barely restrained excitement. “I dare you, for the rest of the day, until midnight, to act completely out of character. You must do the very opposite of what you would normally do.”

“Gracie, I don’t see how this will help my situ–”

Grace wagged a finger. “No doubting, no need to have all the evidence, no second guessing, just the opposite of what you would ordinarily do.” She gestured broadly across the Great Hall.

“If someone asks you to dance, you dance. If someone makes a terrible joke, you laugh instead of rolling your eyes or making a witty retort. If someone compliments you, you thank them instead of explaining how wrong they are.”

“But... why?” Maddie gasped, her heart hammering in her chest.

This sort of dare couldn’t possibly end well.

Grace shrugged. “To see if that might garner your husband’s unwavering attention.

.. and because it’s fun, and you deserve to have some fun after the trying month you’ve had.

” She winked and gave Maddie’s arm a squeeze.

“Forget about those fusty old universities, forget about your controlling father and mother, forget about what’s gone before and what may come after.

Just concentrate on now and enjoy yourself.

It’s your wedding day, Maddie, not your funeral. ”

Maddie considered protesting, considered insisting that, to her, this wedding was as dreadful as a funeral.

It was, after all, the end of life as she’d planned it.

She was never supposed to marry, instead exerting her passion and time on the study of natural history and advancements, expending her years on theories and theses.

But the past four years of her twenty on earth forked through her memories like a lightning bolt, holding back her arguments.

They had been the best four years of her life, forming her into the person she was now: she had made friendships after thinking she would always be a loner, she had been permitted to learn whatever she pleased, she had been supported and encouraged.

There were just two experiences of those school years she had missed out on: her finishing ceremony and her dare. One would be accounted for eventually, but the other? That was up to her. And the rules were: she could not refuse a Horndean dare.

“If this goes horribly awry, I shall blame you,” Maddie said with a sigh and a half-smile. “But, as you have given the dare, I can’t say no. I’ll do it. Until midnight, and not a second after.”

Will it count if I simply sneak out of the Great Hall and lock myself away in the library?

“It won’t count if you try to avoid this gathering,” Grace said, as if reading her dear friend’s mind. “You must be entirely involved, embracing every experience.”

Maddie chewed her lip in consternation. “And if someone should be rude or ungracious?”

“Then, obviously, you don’t have to be the opposite of your usual self.” Grace laughed, giving her friend a playful smack on the arm. “Even now, you’re disobeying the terms of the dare. The Maddie I know would question everything, so you must question nothing.”

Maddie groaned. “You can’t dare me to eat an entire pheasant instead?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“But—” Maddie was about to suggest something less worrisome, when a man with a sweep of wavy red hair and a coarse beard to match appeared before the two women, bowing his head politely.

“M’Lady, allow me to introduce meself,” the man said, his cheeks pink, his eyes bright as he smiled a nervous smile. “I’m Brodie Robertson. I sit on yer husband’s council. And... I couldnae help but see that ye were nae dancin’, and I thought, perhaps, ye’d be so kind as to... um... oblige me?”

But isn’t it customary for the husband and wife to have the first dance?

Maddie’s mind couldn’t be stopped, charging onward with the usual questions.

But that didn’t mean she had to speak them out loud or, indeed, listen to them.

Not if she meant to triumph over this dare, and she did relish a challenge.

A light jab of Grace’s elbow to the ribs spurred Maddie on.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Robertson. I was so hoping that the council would make themselves known to me, as I haven’t the faintest notion of what you all look like.

Naturally, I assumed the council were the oldest men here, but I can see that might’ve been an embarrassment for me if I’d approached anyone with that assumption,” she replied, producing a sound that she had never made before in her entire life. A giggle.

Brodie flushed with delight in the presence of her smiles and her giggles, sweeping a hand through his ginger hair. “A few are ancient, I willnae deny it,” he said, beaming. “But the Laird likes to have a few younger minds in his council chamber too.”

“Quite right.” Maddie smiled, keenly aware of Grace reveling in every second. “Did you say something about a dance?”

Brodie extended his hand. “Aye, if ye’re nae averse or ye havenae already agreed to dance with someone else?”

“I’m not averse,” Maddie lied, for she hated dancing more than she hated running, “and not a soul has asked. I would be... glad to dance with you.”

She slipped her hand into his, struggling to keep her face from crinkling into a grimace as she felt his clammy palm against hers.

How could skin be so very like a cold, wet fish?

Oscar’s hadn’t been, despite his dip in the loch.

His skin had been damp, perhaps, but so warm and inviting that the mere memory made her feel as if she were seated in front of a fireplace.

“Ye look beautiful, m’lady, if ye dinnae mind me sayin’ so,” Brodie said as he led her toward the dance floor, the other dancers parting to allow them room.

Maddie’s chest tightened in discomfort, her stomach squirming at the compliment.

“Thank you,” she replied stiffly, as her gaze discreetly sought the grandfather clock on the far side of the room, horrified to find there were still many, many hours until midnight.

Yet, that was not all she took note of, her gaze skimming past the towering figure of her husband. She didn’t need to let her attention linger long to feel the burn of his annoyance, his gray eyes flashing amidst the crowd.

Is it working already? Oh, Gracie, you might be a genius...