Page 18 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Hellion (Auctioned Highland Brides #4)

“Would ye like me to play slowly so ye can keep up?” Alexander asked, and Callum snarled at his friend as his man-at-arms chuckled to himself gleefully.

After her mother’s arrival that morning, Lydia had announced some foolish idea that Callum should learn an English dance for her wedding.

Why did I agree to her maither comin’ here? It’s two against one.

The Duchess had confirmed what Lydia had discussed, which was that many at the wedding would expect an English dance.

The Scottish jigs and reels could come later, but apparently, to appease his English guests, he would need to begin slowly.

Callum did not give two pins for such things and was far happier on the battlefield than on the dance floor.

Alexander—the swine—could play the lute like an extension of himself and had offered to give them some music to practice.

Callum wanted to throw a chair at his head.

“Now, everyone must stand together in a line to start with. Ladies are paired with gentlemen, and we must be parallel.”

Lydia stood in the center of the room, explaining the steps as the rain battered against the windows above.

Somehow, Callum and Tommy were acting as the only available gentlemen, and Lydia and her mother were the ladies.

The size difference between Callum and Tommy was ridiculous, and the wee boy was looking up at him as if Callum were about to eat him alive.

“Now, Laird Murray, you stand with me,” the Duchess said bossily, coming to his right and pulling him to the edge of the floor.

Callum felt an irrational spike of irritation that Lydia was partnered with her brother and not with him.

Should me bride nae be dancin’ with me?

Lady Bentley took his hand and lifted it between them as Lydia and Tommy took up position before him.

Lydia’s hair had been tied with tiny bows that glittered in the weak daylight from the windows. Callum couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to run his fingers through it.

Why did I nae take the opportunity to do that in the library?

“Now, we bend our knees at the same time,” Lydia instructed, and they all followed her lead.

Callum had to admit Tommy was very sweet. He was watching his sister with deep concentration on his face and solemnly following every instruction to the letter.

“And again, very good Tommy. Now we pace forward twice and repeat the action.”

Lydia glanced back, and the light in her eyes made it all worth it.

“Now pace forward, one, two, three, four, and stop. Turn to your partner and bow to them.”

Callum mimicked Lydia’s movements, aware of the Duchess keeping a watchful eye on him throughout.

Alexander was strumming a very slow, morbid tune that Callum could neither enjoy nor follow—it was too slow. He was used to lively Scottish music, and this was just as somber and dull as the English were in his mind.

“And now we walk in a circle around the room, keeping your hand in your partner’s, and then step to the side and bow, exactly! Very good, Tommy.”

Her brother was beaming up at her as they moved through the rest of the dance. Callum could see the benefits of it for a wedding, as it was slow and easy to follow, but it didn’t fill him with any excitement.

As they moved slowly around the circle, Callum’s legs were itching to increase the pace.

“I think ye should learn a Scottish dance after this so we can show ye how to have some fun at a weddin’,” Callum muttered, and Lydia’s mother gave him a cold side-eye.

Callum exchanged a pleading glance with Alexander, who was grinning around at them all as he strummed the instrument in his arms.

Finally, the interminable dance came to an end, and Callum clapped his hands together loudly, making Tommy jump.

“Killiecrankie!” he said, pointing at Alexander, who nodded, beginning to strum the opening bars.

Callum walked decisively over to Lydia and grabbed her hand.

I willnae be dancin’ with her maither on this one.

“Girls!” he called, knowing very well that Eilis and Amy would be hiding somewhere close by.

Sure enough, they both scurried into the room at his summons, Amy solemnly handing Alexander the kitten as she passed, which he placed on his knee.

“Come and join the dance,” Callum said to the twins, catching Lydia’s look of approval as she held out a hand to Amy, who joined hands with Tommy in turn.

Lydia’s mother was between Eilis and Callum, and they all stood together in a formation of six.

“Ye will have to try to keep up, lass,” Callum murmured to Lydia, then looked to the girls.

“First, we all stand opposite one another.” He let go of Lydia’s hand so they could form two parallel lines. “Then Lydia, ye turn, and I turn and move back around the couple to your right.”

He moved, stepping around the Duchess and coming back into the center, taking Lydia’s hand and twirling her in place, enjoying her happy laugh.

“Then we all join hands, step back, form a circle, and move in formation. There. Amy, look out for Tommy’s toes, would ye? He only has two feet.”

He walked them through the rest of the dance, with the lively tune in the background raising his spirits.

Callum hadn’t realized how much he had missed music and moving his body.

It was good to move fluidly again, as clumsy as he felt doing it. And to have Lydia as his partner was a happy surprise all its own.

He had never seen her dance, and she had an elegance and grace that he had never seen before. He found himself mesmerized by her movements.

Not only did she move her body smoothly, standing on tiptoe and gliding around the circle, but she also included the girls and corrected their steps kindly and patiently.

For the first time, Callum saw what kind of mother she would be to the twins.

Moira had never shown them any such attention, and it was a pleasant feeling to know he had brought someone into their lives who would help and not hinder their future.

By the time the dance came to an end, and they had practiced both a few times, Callum was sweating harder than when he galloped through the glens on Seamus’s back.

He caught the Duchess watching him as she stood beside her daughter and averted his gaze, not sure if he wanted to know what the lady was thinking.

“I forgot ye can move without bein’ a lumberin’ oaf,” Alexander muttered as he came level with his shoulder.

“I can dance better than ye,” Callum grumbled. “Ye are best in the corner where ye cannae go the wrong direction.”

Alexander laughed. “Aye, that is probably true.”

Callum looked at him, remembering why he had once called this man his closest friend. He walked away before the feeling of friendship growing in his chest took root.

“We should have some food,” he said as he reached Lydia, who turned to him with a shy smile.

“Yes, it is thirsty work teaching a beast to dance.”

Lydia was unsure whether the Laird would find her teasing amusing, but a reluctant smile flitted over his lips as he tugged on his jacket.

“Will I nae disgrace ye now, then?” he asked coolly.

His fingers fluttered awkwardly at his sleeve, and it was endearing to see him uncertain.

“I suppose you will do well enough. I shall make sure you get extra lessons from Tommy.”

“I can teach you!” Tommy cried, stepping forward, with his chest stuck out proudly before him.

Whatever fear her brother had felt in Callum’s presence appeared to have dissipated now that they had all danced together, and Lydia was happy to see it.

“We should eat,” Callum grunted, and Lydia gave her brother a reassuring smile as she led him through to the dining hall.

The rain, which had been battering against the windows since late morning, had lessened as the afternoon turned into evening.

As they entered the room, Lydia observed the group with interest. Her mother watched Callum warily but seemed more impressed with him since he had taught them all the dance.

Tommy and the twins were already firm friends, and Tommy had Raven on his shoulder as he sat down at the table.

“We shall never hear the end of it now,” Lydia’s mother said wearily as she joined Lydia on the bench.

“What is that, Mama?”

“Tommy will want a cat as soon as we return to London, you mark my words.”

“I am sure Father will thank me for that,” Lydia murmured, and her mother snorted into her wine as Callum came to sit beside them. His heavy body lowered into his chair with surprising ease as Lydia fidgeted at his proximity.

The man seemed to emit more heat than anyone she had ever known, and as his scent wrapped around her, she could not help her mind from returning to the library.

He had kissed her so deeply at the end, as if he had wanted to fuse them together.

Perhaps he intends to bed me as an afterthought—maybe he was not being truthful about an heir.

The thought made her feel queasy, the food on her plate suddenly looking far less appetizing than it had done.

“Here,” Callum said, handing her a side plate of sweet meats. “I ken ye like these. Ye dinnae stop eatin’ them at supper.”

Lydia eyed the plate eagerly, taking a couple from it and handing it to her mother to try them.

“This pie is excellent,” the Duchess said. “What is in it?”

“That’s deer from me own forest, Duchess. And very fine it is, too. Ye willnae get better meat in all the Highlands.”

“I can believe it. Your lands are most extensive. It is quite beautiful here.”

“Aye, well, we cannae complain.”

“Can we show Lady Bentley the lake?” Amy piped up, and Lydia looked at her in surprise. It was unusual for Amy to speak in company, but Tommy’s presence seemed to have convinced her that the Duchess was a friend.

“Nay ye may not,” Callum said in his usual deep undertone. “Ye will be goin’ to bed after this.”

“But Lady Lydia has promised to show us the night sky!” Amy protested, her eyes widening as she looked pleadingly at her uncle. “She has told us about the stars that fall in April!”

Callum frowned, glancing at Lydia reproachfully.

“What wild stories are ye fillin’ the bairns’ heads with?”

Lydia laughed. “They are not wild. I often looked at the night sky when I was a girl.”

“Oh, she was so curious when she was young,” her mother added. “Always asking me endless questions about the moon, and I do not doubt Lydia knows more constellations in our stars than most sailors.”

“Is that right?”

“Well, I certainly liked to examine the night sky whenever I could. But then… I stopped after a time.”

She did not wish to explain that her father had forbidden the pursuit, just as he forbade any other avenue for a woman’s education.

“And ye ken of the night sky?” Callum asked, his eyebrows rising.

“I know a little about it. Although I imagine the stars above your castle are different from those in London. It will be far darker here and more magical.”

Callum was staring at her, and the heat of his gaze made her question herself.

“It is perfectly right for a woman to be interested in the world around her,” she said sharply, taking a sip of her wine.

“And is that what that contraption was that ye were lookin’ at in the library?” he asked, his eyes glinting with mischief at the memories the question conjured.

“The telescope, yes,” she said, her voice hoarse.

Callum laid his knife down on his plate. “All right then, would ye girls like to see some stars tonight?”

There were squeals of delight from Amy, Eilis, and Tommy as Lydia exchanged a startled glance with her mother.

Since when does Callum wish to spend time with the children?

Callum rose from the table.

“I will bring the telescope outside to the tallest tower, and ye can show me the sky above me own keep. I havenae looked at it before, and I am sure it will be most enlightenin’.”