Page 3 of Bride takes a Scot (Highland Vows & Vengeance #1)

T he night’s revelry was lost on Declan. He wasn’t much of a reveler and wasn’t in the mood to celebrate or rejoice at a forced marriage. At home, he had too many pressing duties calling him that took up most of his time. Rarely did he partake of entertainment or revelry. He needed to ensure his soldiers were well-trained for the oncoming war with the Campbells. Being at the king’s castle, in the adorned hall, did little to brighten his spirit. Declan wasn’t much for talk either, and usually, he just gave orders and had them followed.

It hadn’t escaped him that the lass to whom he’d spoken looked as out of place as he felt. She didn’t appear to want to join in the revelry either.

Declan took a short walk outside to escape the crush of the revelers and glaring mamas inside the hall and needed to get some air. He found the king standing in the courtyard and approached. “Good eve, Sire.”

“MacKendrick, what are you doing out here?”

“I thought to take in a wee bit of air.”

“Aye, ’tis a fine brisk night. I say, MacKendrick, you are causing affront.”

Declan frowned and shook his head. “I am here, am I not? How am I causing you affront?”

“You have yet to dance with any of the ladies. Aye, you are being difficult. Have you met any of them yet? On the morrow, I remind you, you will need to choose one of them.”

He blanched at that—the thought of dancing. Declan wasn’t much of a dancer either. The bride, he didn’t mind so much. Once married and back home, he could set her aside and continue on with his duties to his clan. Whoever she was didn’t have to change his life that much, though his king would be satisfied.

To appease his sovereign, he said, “I shall see to the matter posthaste then. And aye, there is one particular lass who interests me. I just might choose her for my bride if she does not get snatched up before I might name her.”

The king leaned closer. “Who is she?”

Declan chuckled. He wouldn’t say and would leave the king to wonder. “You shall see on the morrow, will ye not?”

Alexander hooted a laugh and rubbed his hands together. “There’s a nip in the air. Let us get inside before we freeze to death. I’ll see you on the dance floor. My wife has been pecking at me all eve to join her in a dance. I promised her only one go around.”

Declan followed the king back inside the hall. The music had just ended. Before the next ballad was played, he approached the woman he sought. “Milady Isabella, will ye join me?” He stood still, his shoulders stiffened while he waited for her reply.

Isabella curtseyed to him. “Of course, I will.”

He waved her onward to the dance floor where other couples, including the king and queen, awaited the first chords of the music. Declan faced Isabella and kept his gaze on her face. She was exquisitely beautiful with her blondish locks flowing over her shoulders. Her eyes, the bonniest blue, shone with merriment. What was it about her that affected him? He supposed he was attracted to her, but there was more to the attraction that held his gaze. She was brazen enough to look him in the eye, and she didn’t cower away. He appreciated a woman who stood her ground.

Declan hadn’t been with a woman in some time. It wasn’t because he had no interest in sex or courtship, but because clan matters took up most of his time. Since his wife had died, he hadn’t given much thought to the opposite sex or wooing a woman. At first, mourning prevented him from the interest, and since, he had too many pressing matters on his mind besides women or his needs.

Isabella stood out amongst the other women on the opposite side of the men. Again, he noticed her air of confidence and that boldness that drew him. With his lack of experience with women, especially of late, he wasn’t sure how to approach her. Would she be amiable to marry him? He hoped so because she was the only woman in the selection of lassies whom he wanted to pursue.

It was decided. One way or another, he’d take her home with him.

The music began and the troubadours played a slower song. Declan lifted his arm and moved with single steps toward Isabella. The moment his hand touched hers, she raised her chin and her eyes bore into his. Her touch brought awareness to his body as if he’d awakened from a long sleep and he was struck with desire. He circled her and turned back with double steps, keeping his eyes fastened on hers.

Each time he returned to her, his body came alive with sensations he hadn’t felt in a long time. Aye, he wanted her, and the fact that it was within his means to obtain her made him grin. All he had to do was beat his brethren in hand-to-hand combat to win her. Yet he was not well-versed in wooing a woman of her quality. At least he didn’t have to attend normal courtship rituals to win her hand.

As he mused about the tournament scheduled for the next day, they moved in unison in a variety of spatial floor patterns and repeated the movement to the beat of the music.

Isabella strode forward and clasped his hands as they took two more steps toward one another and then encircled each other. She moved easily, her body swaying and swinging to the music. Declan couldn’t help but notice the swell of her bosom above her modest bodice, and he swallowed hard at the sight of her creamy-colored skin. The dance continued, and with each step, his body heated and stiffened. Yet, her gaze never wavered from his and Declan felt as though only the two of them danced around the floor in the king’s large hall. He was unaware both the king and queen watched him and his dance partner until he turned to face them.

On the last turn about, he stepped forward and raised his arm again. Her palm touched his and sent even more riveting twinges through him. He would make her his wife, he decided, because there was no way he would allow another man to have her. Now, if only he had the ability to court her as she deserved, and to show her that he deserved her.

The musicians ended the song and the dancers ceased and disbanded. Declan bowed to Isabella and when he raised his face to look at hers, she smiled with shining eyes.

“You surprise me, Laird MacKendrick. I didn’t think you knew how to dance.” Isabella curtseyed to him and clasped his hand. “My thanks.”

He didn’t want to release her hand and held fast. “I usually do not entertain a dance, but I did not want to displease Alexander. He insisted I take to the floor.”

“It would do well to appease the king.”

Declan led her from the center of the room. “May I… Do ye wish for a refreshment?”

“I would like that,” she said and released his hand.

He was disappointed and wanted to continue to touch her, but he wouldn’t be so forward. Declan left her and retreated to the refreshment table, where he’d intended to get a drink for her. Her father approached and stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

“I take it you’re interested in my daughter?” Forrester glared at him.

Declan had never had a father to answer to before. His first wife was given to him by a neighboring laird, his daughter, for the safety and alliance their marriage would bring. He bowed slightly to the older man. “If I must choose a bride, I wouldst that it be your daughter.”

“You’ll treat her right?” her father asked.

“I will, Lord Forrester. Ye need not worry about her. I am an honorable man.” Declan spoke the truth because he’d never harmed a woman or mistreated her. Isabella wouldn’t need to worry about her safety.

“You will allow her mother and me to visit and to send messages? I heard that you northerners stay to yourselves and don’t allow outsiders,” Forrester said.

Declan didn’t know how to answer the man. His clan normally didn’t allow visitors or outsiders, and he was unsure if he should agree to visits from her family. “We shall see. But ye may send missives if you wish to stay in touch.”

“I suppose that is more than what I expected. We care greatly about our daughter, MacKendrick. If you do, by chance, win her hand, you will gain a great prize. Fair warning. She is a spirited lass and not easily tamed.”

Declan bowed to him, snatched a cup of wine from the table, hurried away, and retreated to where Isabella awaited him. The strum of a harp and the melody of a lute announced the next dance. Couples took to the dance floor. Isabella stood alone, watching the dancers. How lovely she appeared, but out of place too. She wasn’t a woman who frequented Alexander’s court given her amiable, yet demure, attitude.

On his approach, he regarded her. Aye, she was spirited, though. He had gotten that sense during his first conversation with her. She’d had the courage to tease him, and he admitted that he hadn’t minded so much. Only a few people had the bollocks or dared to jest with him. What he wouldn’t give to be the man to tame her.

When he reached her side, he handed her the cup. “Milady.”

“My thanks, Laird MacKendrick. Did I see you speaking with my father?”

“Aye, he wanted to warn me about you.” He’d meant to tease her, but she didn’t take his comment in jest. Before he could explain further, she stepped toward him.

Her dainty eyebrows furrowed. “In my defense, my lord, my father is a difficult man and quite emotional. I might be a bit outspoken with him, but I—”

“Ye need not explain, Milady. I was but teasing you.” Declan didn’t know what to say to her. He’d upset her and he was uncertain how to defuse the situation. So, he said nothing more and stood there in chagrin.

“Laird MacKendrick,” she said softly.

He turned to her. “Milady, please call me Declan.”

Isabella smiled sweetly and set her hand on his arm. “Declan, I must apologize because I misjudged you when we first met. Will you try to win my hand on the morrow? I heard the lairds discussing the matter and I wondered…”

“Do ye wish me to try to win your hand?” Declan didn’t want her to see the hopefulness in his gaze and instead of turning away from her, he stood his ground. Under his scrutiny, she lowered her eyes but not before he recognized the glint of an answer in her gaze. Her shoulders moved from a slow sigh, and she raised her bright-blue gaze to him. There was no coyness in Isabella—something he admired about her. She didn’t play him for a fool and he appreciated that.

“I don’t believe the other lairds would suit me. If you won my hand, I wouldn’t be abashed by it.” Her warm fingers slid over the bared skin on his forearm, warming every part of him.

Declan drew in a breath, certain his heart skipped several beats. His reaction to her quite puzzled him because he hadn’t ever experienced such longing, not even with his first wife. Before she stepped away from him, he grabbed her hand to stop her from leaving. “I would not be abashed either.”

She said nothing more to him but pulled away to cross the hall where, he assumed, her parents sat. Isabella spoke briefly to a woman whom he took as her mother and then she was approached by one of the other grooms. Isabella and her partner made their way to the dance floor. Declan took the opportunity to dance with the other offered brides but none of them sparked any fervor in him like Isabella had.

During the dances, he couldn’t cease watching Isabella. Their eyes met more than once and each time, she smiled at him. On the morrow, Declan decided, he would do what it took to win her hand.