Page 23 of Somewhere Along The Way (Mackinnon #3)

Chapter Eight

Stiff and uncomfortable in Huntly’s arms, Annabella watched the chandeliers blur overhead, hearing the strains of the orchestra grow louder as they swept past the raised dais, only to grow softer as they danced past. Across the dance floor, her mother smiled and nodded her approval.

Annabella returned the smile tentatively, then looked away.

With her nerves jarred, she drew herself up, catching sight of Ross Mackinnon as they passed.

They were no more than a few feet from Ross now, and the light from the candles brought out the savage darkness and the hard, chiseled lines of his face, yet at the same time seeming to give both light and life to his fine blue eyes.

The play of light upon that face seemed to emphasize different parts—now the lips, now the eyes, and at last moving to the straight lines of his nose—as if he were a man of many different faces, all of them excellent in a very masculine way.

It was the face of a man who knew how to lay claim to a woman, and the reality of this echoed hollow inside her heart and vibrated through her and filled her with panic.

This had to stop. Immediately.

Her discomfort and confusion were heightened by the feminine, if somewhat na?ve, error of thinking she could, with one look, turn the tide of interested pursuit.

She frowned. In fact, Annabella not only scowled at him with glittering green eyes, she sent him the most contemptuous rebuff she had ever bestowed upon anyone.

Catching the look, Ross grinned and raised his brows in question at his grandfather, who was making quite an effort to look perfectly composed. “It would seem,” Ross said, “that I have found me a lass.”

“Aye, and a passel of trouble to go along with her. I hope you ken what this means?”

“I know.”

“It willna be easy for you, lad. You know her father’s plans for her, and mine for you as well. I am an old man, and the Mackinnon. I must place the clan above everything, even my grandson’s happiness, if it comes to that.”

“You are against it, then?”

“I ken there are times you must think my heart is carved from the blackest Cuillin stone, but I am capable of feeling. If I had the power, I’d use it to keep a lass like that out of the clutches of a man like Huntly, whether you were interested in her or not.

It doesna take a fool to see the lass isna happy with this match, or that her parents are fond of her.

Perhaps she will use their affection to her gain and put an end to this match on her own. ”

“If she doesn’t, I will.”

“Think of the consequences, lad. What if you do as you say and put an end to this betrothal only to find the lass doesna care as much for you as you hoped?”

“She will.”

“But if she doesna?”

“Then she will still be better off without the likes of Huntly.”

“Aye,” the Mackinnon said, his white shaggy brows drawn together, “anything is better than that.”

The Mackinnon’s words were said with such a glum tone that Ross, unmindful that every head in the room turned to stare, threw back his head and laughed.

The room grew immediately quiet, then, as the guests began to talk, it verily hummed with whispers.

Having a good inkling as to what the Duke of Dunford’s grandson was laughing at, and being highly irked that he had chosen to laugh in spite of the look she had sent him, Annabella wished she could dance out the doors that lined the back of the ballroom and keep on dancing until she reached England.

The earl spun Annabella around the room and away from Ross, his hand at her waist, his eyes pale and gazing over her head. He was as smooth and polished as amber, Annabella thought, yet something about him bothered her.

She felt as if he handled her in much the same manner as she handled her thoroughbred mare—with the slightest pressure—mindful that she was not only well bred, but properly trained as well.

He was an enigmatic man who spoke to her very little, and tried, quite unsuccessfully, to maintain a smiling countenance upon a face dominated by a thin, tightly held mouth.

She did not know why she persisted in the cowardly hope that he would be overly pleasant to her when he had a perfect right to be sullen.

She had displayed little respect or admiration for him beyond the token obedience and recognition required of her as his betrothed.

She tried to dispel such morbid thoughts, but the thought of being forever shackled to this man would not leave her.

Suddenly she was thirteen again, standing before a window in a cold library, watching her parents drive away, ill prepared for the harsh life awaiting her at the hands of Mrs. Hipplewhite, the headmistress of a boarding school in Berkshire.

Six months wasn’t a very long time to suffer before her mother learned of the conditions and came quickly to whisk Annabella away, but it was long enough for her to feel abandoned and all alone in a world that was as cold and empty as a house where no one comes to visit.

She blamed Ross for the sadness she was feeling.

It was his fault that she was constantly comparing him to Huntly, although she knew in her heart that she wouldn’t have been happy with Huntly even if she had never laid eyes upon this Lord Ross Mackinnon.

Still, she couldn’t help asking herself why it was that that rakehell Ross Mackinnon wasn’t pestering one of the other young women in the room and making her life miserable—a woman who was available.

The reminder that she was no longer among the ranks of the available settled over her like a gloomy cloud.

“Is something wrong?” asked Huntly.

She was silent, regarding him quietly. Then she said, “No. Nothing is wrong. Why do you ask?”

“You haven’t had much to say all evening, and now even that trifling amount seems to have stopped. We will never come to know each other better this way.”

Annabella had a feeling Huntly never wanted to know anyone better. He seemed only to want to know worse. Before she could say anything, he went on. “I am not a fool, Annabella, and even if I were, it wouldn’t take a fool to see you aren’t too happy with the prospect of marriage to me.”

Annabella drew a deep breath, but she didn’t say anything.

“I am not reproaching you, Annabella. I am merely stating a fact…an observation, if you will. However, we are betrothed, and you would do well to be more accepting of the situation. There is, in case you have not been so informed by your family, an obligation imposed upon a young woman who has just become betrothed. She acts happy. Forced, or otherwise. She also acts—even if she has to pretend—as if she enjoys the presence of her betrothed.”

A dark shadow plunged into the depths of her heart.

Fast-rising panic surged through her. This man, more than anyone she had ever known, filled her with terror.

It wasn’t that she did not like him, but more that he reminded her of the trappings of a nightmare.

And that was how she felt, as if she were trapped in a horrible nightmare and wanted desperately to scream but was unable to utter a sound.

She saw the glint of his eyes and despaired that she would have to spend the rest of her life looking at that face. All she could do was whimper.

His hands gripped her arms painfully and he smiled, dipping his head low, as if whispering some endearment to her. “Behave yourself, my lovely bride-to-be. It won’t do to have your father think you aren’t having a good time. You can’t afford to humiliate him like that, can you?”

Annabella pulled back in a little stiff jerk that gained her nothing.

His hands tightened, then he abruptly released her.

“Go ahead,” he said in the softest tones.

“Run off the dance floor. Run into your papa’s arms and see how comforting they are.

You have no idea how much it would please me to have someone else suffer the same humiliation I have suffered this evening.

Don’t look so surprised, you idiotic bit of trembling knees and watery eyes.

I’ve seen how the duke’s grandson has been sniffing after you all evening. ”

“I haven’t said more than five words to him,” she said in her defense.

He laughed. “You didn’t have to. Your eyes gave you away, and your actions said more than any trifling words. You can’t seem to let him out of your sight, can you?” He made a sound of disgust. “His aunt killed herself over me. She was expecting my child. Did anyone tell you that?”

A wave of trembling weakness settled over her and she felt faint. “No,” she said, unable to say more.

Thankfully, the dance ended, and when it did, Huntly excused himself.

“I am going grouse hunting in the morning,” he said.

“I had planned to be gone only two days, but now I see no reason to rush back here to finish out the week. I will be away for the duration of your stay here. One week, Annabella. That should give your father ample time to put things in order and put a stop to that whelp’s sniffing about—without my having to be humiliated further.

When I return, Annabella—and I will return—I expect you to act the part of a dutifully betrothed woman. ”

“Why are you doing this? I’ve done nothing for you to be angry about.”

Huntly’s breath was warm and rasping across the side of her face as he exhaled.

He raised his hand to caress her cheek, and he turned her face toward him, ignoring the way she flinched.

As quickly as it had come, the fiery anger in his eyes seemed to have banked and gone out.

Had she not thought him incapable of it, she would have called the faint glimmer there a hint of compassion.