Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
The hall roared with approval as Baird led his new wife onto the floor. The fiddles lifted their tune, bright and insistent, and for once the music seemed louder than the whispers.
Truth be told, he hadn’t planned to dance.
In fact, he hadn’t planned any of this. He was distraught, although he was putting on a brave face, struggling with the loss of his brother and what a murder may mean to his clan.
Yet, the presence of the woman who had just unexpectedly barged into his life was somehow comforting, soothing.
When Davina’s voice had carried across the table, in jest, but sharp with something deeper, he’d felt the eyes of the clan turn, and pride––but not only––had refused to let him sit idle.
If his new wife meant to provoke him, she’d succeeded.
He took her hand in his, guiding her into position. Her fingers were smaller than he’d imagined, soft against his calloused palm. Her other hand rested uncertainly against his shoulder, and there was the slightest tremor running through it.
“Ye’ve a bold tongue, me lady,” he said under his breath. “Ye ken that?”
Her eyes met his, dark and bright all at once. “I only said what everyone was thinking, me laird. It is customary fer the groom tae dance with his bride.”
“Aye,” he murmured, drawing her a little closer, “but few brides issue the invitation as a challenge.”
She tilted her chin slightly. “Perhaps few grooms need tae be goaded intae it.”
His mouth twitched despite himself. “Careful, lass. Keep talking like that and folk will start thinking ye’ve got spirit.”
“Would that trouble ye?”
“Nae at all,” he said, lowering his head closer to hers as the music rose. “Though it might trouble everyone else.”
Her lips curved into an unexpected smile. She followed his lead easily enough, though he could feel the tension still trembling through her.
“Ye’re nervous,” he pointed out. “Relax.”
“I’m nae nervous,” she lied, breath catching as he spun her beneath his arm.
“Aye, and I’m the king,” he muttered, earning a startled laugh from her. The sound warmed him more than the fire blazing in the hearth.
When she came back to face him again with her cheeks flushed, he allowed a small smile to break through his usual reserve.
“There now,” he said. “Better.”
“Ye command on the dance floor as ye dae everywhere else,” she said, her eyes glinting with challenge.
“Is that a complaint, me lady?” He lifted an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Merely an observation,” came the reply.
He leaned in, his voice dropping low enough for her alone. “Observation noted. Though if I recall, ye were the one who demanded this.”
“And ye were the one refusing.” Her lips pouted in a way that made her seem irresistible.
“I never refused,” he said, his lips close to her ear now. “Ye only needed tae ask properly.”
Her breath hitched. He felt it through the hand he held at her waist.
“Ye have a strange notion of proper,” she managed.
“I’m a Highlander,” he said, with a faint smirk. “We make dae.”
She tried to suppress her smile but failed. “So, I see.”
He turned her again, slower this time, letting her settle into the rhythm. Around them, the hall had grown quieter. There was less laughter now, and more eyes watching the laird and his bride move together as though the world had not just fallen apart.
The music slowed to its final notes. Neither moved to step away. For one breathless moment, there was only the two of them. Then, the final chord rang out, and the hall erupted in cheers once more. Baird released her hand, but not before his thumb brushed across her knuckles.
“There,” he said quietly, his mouth curving just enough to be noticed. “It seems I’ve fulfilled me role after all.”
Davina met his gaze, half defiant and half flushed. “Fer once, me laird, I’ll nae argue.”
He inclined his head, and he couldn’t hide the faintest spark of amusement in his eyes. “Careful, me lady. Folk might start believing we’re well matched.”
And though her answering smile was small, he felt something new, uncertain and dangerous taking root between them as the crowd cheered for the laird and his bride.
He leaned close to her. “Come. Ye’ve done more than enough smiling fer one evening.”
She looked relieved. But she revealed just a flicker of it, and then, it was quickly swallowed by the proper composure she wore like armor.
Baird didn’t wait for permission. He placed a steady hand at the small of her back and guided her away from the dance area and toward the quieter archway at the edge of the hall.
The moment they stepped out of the crowd, Davina exhaled as though she’d been holding her breath the entire time.
Baird glanced down at her. “If ye like,” he said, keeping his tone casual, “I could show ye more of the castle. Yer new home.”
Her head tilted slightly, and surprise softened her features into an even lovelier form. “I… aye. That would be nice.” She paused, and a small frown knotted between her eyebrows. “I should send fer an escort.”
Baird stopped mid-step and looked at her as though she’d begun speaking in riddles.
“An escort?” he echoed. “Why in God’s name would ye need an escort?”
Davina blinked up at him, every inch the dutiful, well-bred maiden. “Because it would be inappropriate fer a lady tae wander alone with a man.”
He huffed a laugh which was entirely uncontrollable. “Inappropriate?”
She straightened defensively. “Yes. Very.”
“Me lady… Davina.” He leaned in, lowering his voice until his breath brushed her cheek almost inappropriately so. “We’re married.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, clearly realizing the flaw in her argument.
“So,” he continued, eyes glinting, “nae only is it appropriate fer ye tae wander alone with me… it’s expected.”
Her cheeks flushed crimson. It was immensely satisfying.
He added in a murmur meant only for her, “Or should I take this tae mean ye forgot about the vows, the kiss? The whole ordeal?”
Davina spluttered. “I did nae forget—”
“Good,” he said amusedly.
“Ye,” she muttered, glaring up at him, “are impossible.”
He smiled outright this time. He couldn’t help it. “Aye. And ye married me.”
She looked as though she wanted to argue that point as well, but instead she pressed her lips together and lifted her chin. “Let’s go on this tour, then.”
Baird offered his arm. “As me lady commands.”
She hesitated only a fraction before slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. It was a touch too light, as though she feared leaning too much on him, but it was enough.
More than enough.
The corridors of Kincaid Castle stretched warmly before them, lit by torches that cast soft gold against stone. Davina tried to focus on the architecture, on the tapestries, on anything that wasn’t the man at her side, who also seemed far too aware of her presence.
Baird kept their pace unhurried, as though he meant to give her room to breathe. Which would have been a kindness if the closeness of his body didn’t make breathing its own challenge.
He glanced down at her. “Tell me, Davina… what is it ye enjoy? Music? Stitching? Books?”
She blinked at him, surprised he cared to ask.
“I enjoy music very much,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. “Me maither taught me tae play the harp and the clàrsach. And I’ve always found comfort in gardening, in helping things grow.”
Baird hummed thoughtfully, turning down a quieter passage. “Music and gardens.” A small, sly smile tugged at his mouth. “I should have kent ye’d favor something stubborn. Plants dae as they please, nay matter how ye coax them.”
She gave him a quick, affronted look. “Are ye suggesting I’m stubborn?”
“I’m nae suggesting anything,” he pointed out with a flicker of playfulness. “I’m saying it plainly.”
Davina narrowed her eyes. “Ye truly are impossible.”
“That seems tae be yer favorite word fer me taenight,” he said mildly. “Should I take it as endearment?”
She nearly tripped over her own feet. “Absolutely nae.”
His quiet laugh echoed warmly through the hall. Before she could come up with a sharper retort, he paused before a large wooden door and pushed it open.
“This,” he said, guiding her through, “is the solar. The warmest room in the keep.”
Davina stepped in and the moment she did so, her breath caught at the sight. The solar was bathed in the soft glow of candles. A hearth crackled beside a row of cushioned benches, and the windows were draped with soft woolen hangings that gave the room a gentler feel than any she’d seen yet.
And there, nestled right in the center, was a harp. It was a most beautiful instrument, tall with polished oak and strings that gleamed like spun gold.
She touched the frame lightly, feeling the warmth of the wood under her fingers. “It’s lovely,” she whispered.
Baird watched her with an expression she couldn’t read. “It belonged tae me maither,” he said quietly. “She played often. She said music made the walls less cold.”
Davina’s heart tightened. “May I?”
“Aye,” he said. “I brought ye here so ye could.”
She seated herself and let her fingers glide over the strings.
The first notes were soft and hesitant, but then they became fuller and clearer, as she fell into the rhythm.
She played a simple melody her mother used to hum in the mornings.
The sound filled the room, tender and fragile, and she forgot for a moment that she was not in her own home but in a stranger’s fortress, a stranger who was now her husband.
“Ye play beautifully,” he said when the last note faded.
Davina looked up sharply. She hadn’t realized how close he’d stepped. He was now standing just behind her shoulder, with one hand braced against the harp’s pillar as though drawn unconsciously nearer.
Her pulse fluttered. “It’s naething,” she said lightly. “Just an old tune.”
“A tune ye play with care,” he countered.
Her cheeks warmed. She abruptly rose from the stool, putting distance between them or at least trying to. The chamber wasn’t large enough to escape the way his presence tugged at her.
“But I’m guessing ye play even more beautifully when ye are nae under pressure,” he pointed out.
“Aye,” she agreed. “It’s been… a long day.”
“It has,” he concurred. “But something tells me it’s nae only that. I’ve barely said a word and ye look ready tae bolt.”
She tipped her chin up. “Maybe I simply dinnae enjoy yer company, me laird.”
He took another step, close enough that she felt the warmth of him again.
“Nay,” he murmured, pinning her against the wall, but he didn’t reach out to touch her. “That’s nae it.”
Her breath caught. Why on earth did her body react before her mind could?
Before he could say more or she could embarrass herself further, she forced a bright smile and gestured toward the door.
“Shall we continue the tour? Ye still have tae show me me quarters,” she reminded him. “I assume that the chamber where I was before was one of the guest rooms.”
“Aye,” he nodded, taking a step back, then offering her his hands. “Allow me tae take ye there.”
As she rested her arm on his, she told herself repeatedly that the heat beneath her skin was nothing but shock, nerves and the strain of the day.
It could not possibly be him.