Page 28 of A Highland Bride Taken

She felt a pang of disappointment, but she quashed it quickly. She could hardly expect him to kiss her as he had in front of her family and strangers.

“May yer union be blessed with many healthy lads and bonny lassies, Laird Muir,” another intoxicated well-wisher intoned, rising from his seat.

The crowd cheered, and more intoxicated men raised their cups in ribald toasts that had her face reddening further as the evening deepened into night.

Music and laughter eased the tension she had felt earlier, and she had even seen the Laird smile once, but he had quickly hidden it behind his cup.

He seemed to be able to hold his wine, but she hadn’t dared, limiting herself to nursing the first cup that had been poured for her.

He had also proven dutiful, cutting choice pieces of meat from the table in front of them as well as bread and cheese from the feast that had been prepared in their honor.

She ate heartily as dancers twirled around the makeshift dance floor, enlivening the atmosphere. She found herself swaying in time to the music and wished she could be one of them, which surprised her.

She had learned the dances growing up but had never really enjoyed them, as her mother had always forced her to dance with partners who did not care about her enjoyment. But now, as she watched the riotous crowd dance with no care for missteps, she itched to be free.

“Do ye wish to dance?” the Laird suddenly asked from beside her.

Her eyes widened, and she turned to him. She instinctively shook her head, but then stopped herself. What would happen if she chose to enjoy herself?

She nodded and met his eyes. “Aye,” she answered.

He nodded and rose to his feet, extending a hand towards her.

“Me Laird?” she sputtered.

She hadn’t expected him to offer. He didn’t look the sort to enjoy something as frivolous as dancing.

“Ye want to dance, do ye nae?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Dance with me, then.”

She took his hand in a stunned haze and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. The crowd parted for them, and when she heard the strains of the next dance, she couldn’t help but wonder if he would know the steps to such a lively tune.

She was surprised even when he moved into the first steps with that serious expression on his face, but she quickly followed his steps, and soon she was breathless with exhaustion, but her heart and mind felt lighter.

He came to her as soon as the dance ended, looking down at her with a question in his eyes.

“Are ye well?”

She nodded. “I thank ye.”

She heard the clearing of a throat beside her and turned to find her mother looking serious.

“Pardon the intrusion, Me Laird,” Lady MacLennan said. “‘Tis time I escort the bride upstairs.”

Mabel reddened as she realized what her mother was implying. Why couldn’t she wait till she was alone?

“Aye. Ye can take her…” the Laird trailed off with a nod.

Mabel clasped her hands in front of her and solemnly followed her mother out of the room, bracing herself for an education that would no doubt scar her.

Once they had entered her chambers, her mother went to an armoire and produced a sheer-looking nightdress she had never owned, but she didn’t dare question where it had come from.

Being as observant as she was, Lady MacLennan noticed the look on her face as she removed the pins from her hair.

“Yer husband will be pleased to see ye in this dress on yer wedding night,” she said. “Rise, so ye can change.”