Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"Again! Faster this time!"
Alpin blocked the downward strike with his sword, feeling the jar of impact all the way up his arm.
Sweat dripped down his bare chest as he pivoted, bringing his blade around in a controlled arc that forced his opponent—Fergus, one of his best warriors—to stumble back.
"Ye're gettin’ slow, me laird," Fergus taunted, breathing hard.
"Am I?" Alpin feinted left, then drove forward, his blade stopping just short of Fergus's throat. "Yield."
"Aye, aye." Fergus lowered his sword, grinning. "Point taken."
The training yard was busy that afternoon, warriors drilling in pairs while others watched and offered commentary. The autumn sun was warm despite the season, and Alpin had shed his shirt when the heat had become too much.
He stepped back, rolling his shoulders to loosen the tight muscles. Training always helped clear his mind, and God knew he needed it after that morning's interrogation.
The prisoner still wasn't talking, Ashcombe was still camped at the border, and the dance was coming soon—
Movement at the edge of the yard caught his attention.
Mhairi stood just inside the gate, her hand still on the latch as if she'd frozen mid-step. Her eyes were fixed on him with an intensity that made Alpin's breath catch.
She was staring. Very obviously staring at his bare chest.
Heat that had nothing to do with exertion flooded through him.
"Me laird?" Fergus prompted. "Another round?"
"Give me a moment." Alpin's voice came out rougher than intended. He handed his sword to Fergus without looking away from Mhairi. "Take a rest. We'll continue later."
He crossed the yard toward her, very aware of the way her gaze tracked his movement. The way her cheeks had gone pink. The way she seemed unable to look away even though she clearly wanted to.
"See somethin’ ye like, lass?" he asked quietly as he reached her.
Mhairi's eyes snapped up to his face, her blush deepening. "I— that's nae—I was just—"
"Just?"
"Lookin’ fer ye," she finished weakly. "I wanted tae speak with ye about something."
"And now that ye've found me?" Alpin couldn't resist moving a bit closer, watching the way her breathing quickened.
"Now I'm... distracted."
"By what?" He knew he was being unfair, but the look in her eyes was doing dangerous things to his self-control.
"Ye ken perfectly well by what," she muttered, finally dragging her gaze away from his chest. "Could ye perhaps put a shirt on so I can think properly?"
Alpin laughed, low and warm. "If ye insist. Though I'm rather enjoyin’ the way ye're lookin’ at me."
"I'm nae lookin’ at ye any particular way."
"Liar." He grabbed his discarded shirt from where it hung over the fence but didn't put it on immediately. "What did ye need tae speak tae me about?"
Mhairi swallowed hard, visibly trying to focus. "The dance comin’ soon. I... I cannae go."
"Why nae?"
"Because I'm nae a great dancer." The words came out in a rush.
"Actually, I'm terrible at it. I always have been. Me maither tried tae teach me when I was younger, but I kept steppin’ on me partners' feet and countin’ the steps out loud and—" She broke off, looking miserable.
"I'll just embarrass ye in front of yer whole clan. "
Alpin studied her face, the genuine distress there, the vulnerability. "So ye're afraid of lookin’ foolish?"
"I'm afraid of makin’ ye look foolish. Ye're the laird. People expect ye tae have a partner who can actually dance."
"Mhairi." He reached out and tilted her chin up so she had to meet his eyes. "I dinnae care if ye trip over yer own feet the entire night. I want ye there. With me."
"But I care."
"Well, then come tae the solar after dinner taenight and I'll teach ye."
Her eyes widened. "Ye would teach me tae dance?"
"Of course." He grinned. "I have tae be a good dancer, ‘tis part of the job description. I often dance. Between 'lookin’ stern at Councils' and 'mysterious laird business.'"
Despite her worry, Mhairi's lips twitched. "Ye remembered that."
"I remember everything ye say." The admission came out more serious than he'd intended. "So. After dinner. Me solar. I'll teach ye everything ye need tae ken."
"Ye really think ye can teach me a lot in the little time?"
"I think ye're more capable than ye give yerself credit fer." Alpin finally pulled his shirt on, though he noticed with satisfaction that Mhairi's eyes followed the movement. "Besides, the most important part of dancin’ isnae the steps. It's trustin’ yer partner."
"And ye think I trust ye?"
"I think ye're startin’ tae." He paused. "Am I wrong?"
"Nay," Mhairi said softly. "Ye're nae wrong."
"Good. Then come taenight, and I'll prove ye have naethin’ tae worry about."
"All right." She took a step back, then hesitated.
"Now go. I need tae finish trainin’ before Fergus decides I've gone soft."
Mhairi left, glancing back once before disappearing through the gate. Alpin watched her go, very aware that several of his men were watching him with knowing grins.
"Nae a word," he warned.
"Wouldnae dream of it, me laird," Fergus said, though his smile was wide. "Though I will say, I've never seen ye stop trainin’ fer anyone before."
"Then perhaps ye should train harder so I dinnae have time tae be distracted."
The grin only widened. "Aye, me laird. Whatever ye say."
Dinner seemed to last an eternity. Alpin forced himself to eat, to engage in conversation with his council members, to act like his mind wasn't entirely focused on what would happen after the meal ended.
Finally, finally, the plates were cleared and people began drifting away. Alpin made his excuses and headed to his solar, pushing furniture aside to create an open space in the center of the room.
A knock came precisely on time.
"Come in."
Mhairi entered, looking nervous but determined. She'd changed into one of her new dresses, the deep blue one that made her eyes look like storm clouds. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and Alpin had to force himself to focus.
"Ready?" he asked.
"As I'll ever be." She looked around at the rearranged furniture. "Where's the music?"
"We dinnae need music yet. First, I need tae teach ye the basic steps." He moved to the center of the cleared space and held out his hand. "Come here."
Mhairi crossed to him slowly, placing her hand in his. The contact sent warmth spreading up his arm.
"Now," Alpin said, keeping his voice steady with effort. "Put yer other hand on me shoulder."
She did, and he settled his free hand at her waist. The position brought them close—closer than they'd been since that night on the battlements.
"The first thing ye need tae ken," Alpin said, "is that a good dance is all about the man makin’ the woman look good. That means I lead, ye follow, and if either of us makes a mistake, I take the blame."
"That daesnae seem fair."
"That's the rule. Which means all ye have tae dae is relax and trust me." He smiled down at her. "And honestly, that shouldnae be much trouble considerin’ how beautiful ye are. Ye could trip over me feet the entire time and everyone would still be lookine at ye instead of the steps."
Mhairi's cheeks flushed. "Ye cannae just say things like that."
"Why nae? It's true." He began moving slowly, guiding her through the basic pattern. "Step back with yer right foot... good... now tae the side... and taegether. See? Ye're already daein’ it."
"Because ye're leadin’."
"Exactly. That's the point." He continued the pattern, gradually building speed. "Dancin’ is a conversation. I suggest movement, ye respond. Back and forth, like we're tellin’ a story without words."
"What kind of story?"
"Any kind ye want." Alpin spun her gently, then brought her back against him. "A story about a brave lass who survived something terrible. About a laird who found her when she needed savin’. About two people learnin’ tae trust each other."
Mhairi's eyes had gone soft. "That's a good story."
"It's the best one I ken."
They danced in silence for a few moments, and Alpin was pleased to see that Mhairi was relaxing into the movement, letting him guide her without overthinking each step.
"Can I ask ye somethin’?" she said quietly.
"Anythin’."
Her hand moved from his shoulder to his face, fingers tracing the jagged scar that ran from temple to cheek. "How did ye get this?"
Alpin's steps faltered slightly. "A raid. When I was nineteen."
"The same one that..." She didn't finish, but he knew what she was asking.
"Nay. Different raid. Different enemy." His jaw tightened at the memory. "A rival clan thought we were weak after me faither died. They were wrong, but didnae find out before they got close enough tae leave their mark."
"Daes it hurt?"
"Nae anymore. Just reminds me tae be more careful."
Mhairi's fingers were still on his face, gentle and curious. "I think it makes ye look dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Alpin's voice had gone lower, rougher.
"Aye. Like someone who's fought and survived. Like someone strong enough tae protect the people he cares about."
They had stopped dancing now, standing still in the center of the room with her hand on his face and his hand at her waist.
"Mhairi," he breathed.
"Aye?"
"I'm goin’ tae kiss ye now. So, if ye dinnae want me tae, say so."
For a moment she just looked at him, her grey eyes searching his. Then she rose up on her toes, closing the distance between them.
"Dinnae ye dare stop," she whispered.
Alpin's control shattered.
He kissed her—gently at first, just a brush of lips against lips. Testing. Asking permission that she'd already granted but that he needed to ask anyway.
Mhairi made a small sound in the back of her throat and pressed closer, and Alpin deepened the kiss. His hand at her waist pulled her against him while his other hand cradled the back of her head.
She tasted like honey from dinner and something uniquely her. Her hands slid up his chest to lock behind his neck, and when her fingers tangled in his hair, Alpin groaned.
The kiss went from gentle to intense, days of tension and wanting pouring into it. Alpin backed her slowly toward the wall, never breaking contact, until her back met stone and he could cage her in with his arms.
"Alpin," she gasped against his mouth.
"Too much?" He pulled back just enough to see her face, breathing hard.
"Nay. Nae enough."
He moved back down, kissing her with a fierceness that stole his breath.
What they were doing was dangerous. It was reckless. She'd been through hell and he should be giving her space, time, not crowding her against a wall in his solar like some lovesick fool.
But when Mhairi's teeth caught his bottom lip and tugged gently, every rational thought fled his mind.
His hands framed her face, thumbs stroking her cheekbones as he kissed her deeper, slower, trying to pour everything he felt into the contact. Every protective instinct, every moment of wanting, every impossible hope that this brilliant, brave, beautiful woman might someday want him back.
"We should stop," he murmured against her lips, even as he kissed her again.
"People will talk if they find us like this."
Alpin pulled back with effort, resting his forehead against hers. They were both breathing hard, and he could feel Mhairi's heart racing under his hands.
"That was..." she started.
"Aye."
"I've never..." She trailed off, color flooding her cheeks. "That was me first kiss."
Alpin's chest tightened. "Mhairi—"
"I'm glad it was ye." Her hands were still in his hair, and she looked up at him with such trust that it nearly undid him. "I'm glad me first kiss was with someone who makes me feel safe. Someone who makes me feel... alive."
"Ye make me feel alive too," he admitted roughly.
"Is that why ye rescued me? Because I make ye feel alive?"
"I rescued ye because I couldnae help meself.” He kissed her forehead gently.
They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms. Outside, the castle settled into evening quiet.