Chapter Eleven
“The sword dance is next,” Callum said with a wink, handing Mhàiri a mug of ale. “Dance with me?”
Mhàiri laughed and her eyes began to gleam with anticipation. “You mean dance against you!” she said, taking the cup. “I think the only reason you like to dance next to me is that I make you look good.”
“I am good, and that is not the only reason I like to dance next to you. It’s because I am the envy of every man in the room when I do.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
Callum winked. “I’m going to get the swords.”
He disappeared into the crowd. Mhàiri leaned back against the wall of the great hall and took a sip of the cool ale.
Tomorrow was Epiphany and the last day of the Christmastide festivities.
She did not want to think about all the merriment coming to an end.
The holiday season could last another week, and she would still not want it to be over.
Never had she had so much fun, and it saddened her to think that this might be her only chance to enjoy the twelve days of Christmas as they were meant to be experienced.
Traveling merchants did not have celebrations with large bonfires, dancing, and feasts like those held by clans.
Long-time McTiernay ally Rae Schellden, his two daughters who had married twin McTiernay brothers, and his grandson Shaun had arrived the night the celebrations started.
Unfortunately, their stay was not going to be an extended one.
Though Mhàiri had only met Raelynd and Meriel—Crevan and Craig’s wives—a few days ago, she already considered them friends.
Both women were not just lovely, but also highly spirited and mischievous.
Nothing was more comical than watching them interact with their husbands.
They had the kind of relationship she would want—if she ever were inclined to make a marital commitment.
Neither wife nor husband capitulated to the other when riled, and one could not help but see the great love and respect the two couples had for each other.
They gave and supported, but when provoked, they also stood up to the other.
Craig and Crevan did not dictate to their wives—though they periodically tried—and Meriel and Raelynd did not harangue their husbands, though they were not above various forms of persuasion.
The most joyful of the four was Raelynd.
She was pregnant with her first child, which was due in late spring.
It had been quite a massive effort for Raelynd to convince Crevan to let her come.
She had been pregnant before and lost the child, and that fear never really quite left either of their minds.
So Raelynd did not argue when Crevan announced that they would be leaving the day after Epiphany.
But, like Mhàiri, Raelynd did not want to think about the days after the merriment was over; she only wished to focus on enjoying the little time there was left.
Raelynd had sat with the similarly pregnant Laurel in the great hall much of the time, each keeping the other company, watching everyone as they drank and danced.
Mhàiri found watching them amusing, especially Laurel.
Lady McTiernay, despite growing large with child, practically danced from her chair.
Her light blond hair swung about, for she could not keep her feet still when the music played.
But it was when the swords began to appear that a much greater level of excitement shone in her normally storm-colored eyes.
The sword dance had grown into something of a unique rivalry between the Schellden and McTiernay clans, having evolved into a challenge of endurance.
The music would start and members of each clan would pound the floor to an ever-increasing tempo, deftly hopping among the quarters made by crossing two broadswords.
The music would continue until only one person was left and declared the champion.
The clan that claimed the winner also claimed bragging rights that they exercised whenever possible until the next festivity and sword dance.
For years, only men had participated, but one night Laurel had decided to join them, having failed to understand why women had been excluded from even trying.
Honestly believing she did not have a chance at lasting very long, let alone winning the challenge, the men from both the McTiernay and Schellden clans had allowed her to join the competition, mostly to prove their assumptions true.
To everyone’s surprise—except Laurel’s—she had won.
Ever since then, clanswomen had participated in the sword dance.
Maegan, who had never won but had come close a few times, had warned Mhàiri ahead of time about what was to come.
For days leading up to Christmastide, the two women had practiced the steps.
After ten nights of hopping around for a quarter of an hour, she was getting better, but she would have to more than double that time to ever have a chance at winning.
It would take months to build up a level of endurance to be anything close to competitive.
But it did not matter. Mhàiri loved the dance.
During her first sword dance, Callum came up and introduced himself. Mhàiri recognized the name and knew immediately he was the Schellden guard whom Maegan kept mentioning—and for good reason.
Callum was startlingly handsome for a Highland soldier.
Several of the McTiernay men were very good looking, but Callum attracted the eye of every woman around him, Mhàiri included.
Possessing a classic rugged bone structure, unusual turquoise-colored eyes, and thick dark auburn hair, Callum was almost too handsome.
But it was more than his looks that drew women to his side.
One could tell just by looking at him—how he walked, stood, and spoke with soft authority—that he could take care of himself and anyone he cared for.
So, when Callum had begun to flirt with her, Mhàiri could not help but be flattered.
But she was surprised to discover that there was much more to the man than an attractive smile and gorgeous body.
Callum was honest, fair, and extremely witty.
She was always entertained when he was around and therefore never felt compelled to avoid his company.
And since Conan had been in a disagreeable mood since practically the festivities had begun, she had been in Callum’s company a lot.
Mhàiri had tried a few times to pull Conan out of his surly mindset and get him to join her in some of the diversions, but he had made it clear that he would rather be left alone to sulk.
So she had honored his unsaid request. This Christmastide was her first with festivities, and she had refused to let them be ruined by his churlish attitude.
There was too much fun to be had, and she was determined to relish every second.
By the third night of revelry, however, Mhàiri began to realize Conan was not alone in his strange behavior.
Bonny and Brenna, who had been her two shadows for weeks, were suddenly never around.
Mhàiri only saw them here and there, and each time only briefly.
At first, she was concerned they were up to a new scheme, but after a couple of nights of dancing, drinking and laughing, she no longer cared.
If the two girls were hatching a plan, it would soon be known.
And if that plan included Conan, it was sure to fail. So, Mhàiri stopped worrying about them.
She could not say the same for Seamus and Maegan, however. Those two were almost always together, which at first was encouraging until Mhàiri realized they were rarely smiling. What was really bothersome was their frowns were usually aimed in her direction, as if they were anxious about something.
Thinking it was Callum’s attention that had them concerned, Mhàiri had tried to assure them that the handsome soldier and she were simply enjoying each other’s company.
That while Callum might be a bit over-the-top with his flattery, it was all in fun.
They both knew he would be returning with the Schelldens when Christmastide was over.
Unfortunately, her reassurances seemed to do very little to relieve the apprehensive looks on either Maegan or Seamus’s faces.
So, again, Mhàiri had decided to put her concerns aside as much as possible, and focus on having fun.
* * *
Maegan pulled the blanket up and tucked it around Bonny’s sweet face.
She looked so tired, but also determined.
After eleven nights of festivities, Laurel was getting tired earlier in the night.
Being pregnant, she was not running around like she normally did and therefore had been able to keep a much closer eye on her daughters.
This year, they had not been able to wander about like they had in the past. So, when Laurel had wanted to leave hours before the feast would be drawing to a close, both girls had begged to stay with Maegan.
Maegan had agreed despite knowing that they would confront her later. For Seamus had yet to corner Mhàiri for that ill-fated kiss, and Brenna and Bonny wanted to know why.
“Seamus isn’t going to do it, is he?” Bonny asked, with a yawn.
Brenna grabbed a blanket, wrapped it around her shoulders, and sat on Bonny’s bed, waiting for Maegan to answer.
Maegan did not like to disappoint them, especially as she and Seamus had told them that they would try, but in this case, she just could not fault Seamus for deciding that he couldn’t fulfill his promise.