Chapter 8
“S
o,” Darina said as they danced together, “I can honestly state that ye are the last person I expected tae see here tonight.”
“Expected tae see, or wanted tae see?” he replied cheekily.
She smiled in spite of herself. “Expected. It is simply a bit of a shock. Ye look rather fetchin’ in my brother’s clothes, too.”
“I do, dinnae I?” he observed with a wink.
“Ye’re most fortunate that the two of ye happen tae be the same size.”
“Actually, I would say I am most fortunate tae have made the acquaintance of such a kind and generous fellow at all.” He paused, then added, “More than that, I count myself the luckiest man in the world at the moment tae be dancin’ with a woman as beautiful as ye are.”
Now, what has compelled me tae say such a thing?
he wondered. Was he simply trying to charm her and put her at ease so that he could take advantage of that by kidnapping her later?
He told himself that must be the answer…
but deeper down, he knew that wasn’t true.
The words had simply come naturally to him.
As they would have when he was confronted with any woman he was infatuated with.
He didn’t have much point of comparison, of course.
He hadn’t had time for the courtship rituals most lads enjoyed at his age, as the war had commanded his full attention since it had begun.
He hadn’t even had any opportunity to fantasize about what a love life for himself might look like if circumstances might permit it.
His thoughts were too often occupied with the dreadful sights and sounds he had experienced during his most recent time on the battlefield and the comrades he’d had violently taken from him.
This was one of the first times he could recall in recent history when such bloody and unwelcome thoughts seemed entirely absent from his mind, replaced with the thoroughly enchanting details of his proximity to such a lovely woman.
One who was gazing into his eyes intently, as though she was every bit as attracted to him as he was to her.
Ye must nae waver, he told himself sternly. Ye must nae falter. Ye were a fool tae waste yer chance last night, and ye will be a traitor tae yer father and yer clan if ye allow the same thing tae happen again.
“That is incredibly sweet of ye tae say,” she said with a slow smile, “but ye still have nae answered my question. How did ye come tae be here at all?”
“I must confess, I remain uncertain of that myself,” he answered with a small shrug. “Cameron extended the invitation. I was bewildered, but how could I possibly refuse such a gracious offer, bein’ a poor man with few prospects before havin’ arrived here?”
“I doubt anyone could,” she conceded. “However, I do find it most curious that a man who claims tae be from a poor background is so skilled at dancin’ tae the tunes of the wealthy and privileged.”
Fergus’ heart skipped a few beats, and it took all of his composure to keep from faltering in the dance. Perhaps he should have done precisely that, he thought, to throw off any suspicions she might have…except the timing of such a thing would make it seem even more conspicuous, wouldn’t it?
Instead, he continued dancing as he had been and did his best to take the comment in stride.
“Aye, I suppose that would seem strange, wouldn’t it?
Where I come from, though, the peasants are frequently encouraged tae engage in revelry along with the nobles.
Perhaps that is why I was so struck by ye when I saw ye my first day here…
Handin’ out bread and alms, unafraid tae mix with the lower-born people of yer clan. It made me feel at home, so tae speak.”
He’d thrown in that last comment hoping to turn the conversation back to her so that he would not need to answer any more questions about his past that he was unprepared for. Her curiosity got the better of her, though.
“And where do ye hail from, Finn?”
“Nay place ye would have heard of, I assure ye,” he answered quickly. “A land far from here and nae of much renown.”
“Ye are quite the mystery man, aren’t ye?” she laughed. “Ye show up from nowhere with nay money or prospects, and within two days, ye have a position in the stables of the laird, and ye are dancin’ with his daughter! Do ye often find yerself in such unlikely situations?”
“Nae exactly,” he replied. “Then again, I have found that my life has taken many twists and turns that I would nae have expected ever since I left my home. And I am most grateful fer them.”
As he said this, he noticed that their faces had been steadily inching closer together over the previous few moments, though neither of them seemed to be making it happen on purpose.
More than anything, he wanted to surrender to that strange and wonderful moment.
Whatever force was implacably pulling them closer together seemed so natural and undeniable that it felt like it couldn’t possibly be wrong.
He wanted to feel the electric spark of their lips joining, their breath mingling.
But he couldn’t, and he damn well knew it.
Not only because of his mission, although that was certainly a significant factor, and quite enough to give him pause on its own.
No, even in his current guise as “Finn,” it would be wholly unacceptable for him to kiss the laird’s daughter in public—or in private, either, for that matter.
As far as anyone here knew, he was a stablehand.
A well-liked one, it seemed, and there was certainly something to be said for that.
Even so, these nobles would surely draw the line at such a gross public display.
He’d very likely be banished that very night if he did so.
With that in mind, he pulled himself away from her reluctantly. “I am sure yer family would nae approve of us gettin’ any closer than that.”
“Nay, I daresay they would nae.” A shadow passed over her face, and he was once again reminded of the conversation they’d had in the stables the previous night.
Then, once again, the next words that escaped his lips were ones he hadn’t been prepared to utter. Words that would have come naturally to him if he were simply a man trying to woo a woman with no other agenda: “Perhaps we might occasion ourselves tae slip away from pryin’ eyes, then?”
He was sure she would refuse such a bold and improper offer as any noblewoman in her position would.
More than that, he supposed she would take extreme offense to it and storm away, keeping her distance from him from that point onward and thus making his mission impossible to carry out.
He chided himself for his recklessness and lack of foresight.
He couldn’t believe that his own attraction to this woman was getting in the way of his goal.
Then again, he imagined that some part of him was deliberately courting that outcome so that he would be spared from carrying out such a gruesome task.
He was becoming increasingly less concerned with coming home empty-handed than he was with doing harm to this lovely lass and having to find some way to live with himself afterward.
Because even though she was a Wallace, she was not his enemy.
Anyone could have seen that. She meant his clan no harm, and perhaps the Wallaces as a whole were more worthy and upstanding than the McDougals had allowed themselves to acknowledge in the fog of war.
That they were able to keep their own clan more prosperous and in higher spirits even during this time of conflict spoke well of them, did it not?
Made it seem as though there was far more to them than his own clan had previously allowed themselves to believe?
No. Better, perhaps, to simply give up and slink back to his own clan in the dead of night. Her response to his invitation would assure that.
Instead, though, her eyes widened with surprise…and delight. “Aye, perhaps we should. Come, I ken a secret place where we shall nae be disturbed. As long as we return tae the festivities soon enough that none shall miss us and think the worst, that is.”
“A perfectly reasonable precaution,” he agreed. “Lead the way.”
Well, there it was. He’d come within a hair’s breadth of abandoning his assignment, but fate, it seemed, was determined that he stick to his original plan. He could hardly deny it, no matter how much he wanted to.
He took a pair of wine goblets from a nearby table, and the moment Darina’s back was turned, he slipped something into one of them.
It was a powdered herb that he had obtained from one of the healers at McDougal Keep before he set out on this mission.
It was a powerful sleeping draft that was supposed to work almost immediately upon being consumed.
Once she lost consciousness, he meant to spirit her away through one of the passageways he had discovered during his walk the night before. It would be tricky, perhaps, covering the ground from the castle to the stables while carrying her. It might help that everyone was occupied with the party.
Still, she made a good point: For his plan to work, he’d need to execute it as quickly as possible. The more time passed, the greater the chances that people might come looking for her and then his escape might be interrupted.
With rather grievous results.
Darina brought him to a narrow corridor, and when she turned and saw the cups of wine in Fergus’ hands, she gave him a wry smile.
“Ye should be warned, Sir, that even if ye push a cup of wine intae my hand—even if I drink it—nothin’ improper shall transpire between us.
I may want to ken more aboot ye but ’tis nae enough tae make me forget my honor. ”
“I would expect nothin’ less,” he replied with a grin, handing the tainted cup to her. “Tell me, have ye been promised tae another? Some noble lad, nay doubt?”
“Nae promised, nay,” she said. “Nae yet. However, I have been informed that I shall be sent tae London soon enough so that I may choose a husband there.”