Chapter 22
In Cat's chamber, Elsea enjoyed getting to know Dani, Gavin's lovely new wife.
Her thick, dark hair was straight and loose on her shoulders.
Her blue-green eyes were friendly. They sat on the chairs near the warm hearth.
At first, 'twas hard for Elsea to grow used to Dani's unusual accent and dialect of English.
Some of her phrasing was difficult to grasp.
While Cat was otherwise engaged, Dani told Elsea how she and Gavin had met. How she had traveled from the twenty-first century and destroyed the curse which had entrapped Gavin. The story fascinated Elsea and made her envious. How she wished she could help Brodie break his curse.
Cat rushed in, excited and smiling. "Ruskin is helping Brodie dress for supper. He wants to join us in the great hall."
"Is he well enough?" Elsea asked, concerned.
"I think so. He can hold on to Torr's shoulder as he walks, in case he gets dizzy. We must get you ready, my friend, and make you as tempting as possible." Cat eyed her expectantly.
"Why?"
Cat tilted her head aside. "You will demolish his curse."
Elsea's face warmed as she shook her head. "You're wasting your time."
"Nay. He has feelings for you. 'Tis obvious. Do you have lovely dresses in your chamber?"
"Your mother has been kind enough to let me borrow clothing. Some of it is yours."
"Well, I brought some extra gowns, newer ones."
"So did I," Dani said. "You can wear any of them you wish."
Cat pulled a deep green gown of silky satin from her trunk. "Try this one."
Earlier, Elsea had removed the betrothal ring on the cord from around her neck so Cat wouldn't see it. She was observant and would no doubt notice it.
The two lady's maids present helped Elsea don the beautiful new dress Cat had offered.
When Elsea had it on, the amount of cleavage it revealed shocked her. The upper half of her breasts were on display. "'Tis far too low cut," Elsea protested. "I never wear things like this."
"Nonsense. 'Tis the new fashion." Cat sent her a devilish grin.
A knock sounded at the door. It opened, and Brodie's mother stepped in.
Mortified, Elsea covered her bare décolletage with both hands.
Taking in the scene, Agatha smiled. "Let me see, my dear."
Her face flaming, Elsea bit her lip and slowly lowered her hands.
"You are stunning, young lady. Brodie will not be able to take his eyes off you."
"Oh, saints," Elsea hissed and turned away, wishing she could crawl into the back of the attached dressing room and hide for the rest of the night. "'Twill give the wrong impression. I must wear something else."
"You have embarrassed her, Ma," Cat chided.
"Pray pardon. 'Twas not my intent. You are truly beautiful, Elsea. There is naught to be embarrassed about."
"I do nay wish Brodie to think I'm—" She couldn't say trying to seduce him. "He already mistrusts me."
"We could find a more modest dress," Dani said. "We don't want to drive Brodie away, do we? Or make him suspicious?"
Cat sighed. "You're right. My brother is the height of stubborn and ornery. He will think we're all trying to manipulate him."
"We should do the opposite of what he expects." Dani grinned slyly.
"Oh, you are a canny lady," Cat said.
The dark indigo blue velvet gown Cat pulled from her trunk next had a wide, high neckline, revealing a bit of shoulder. The bodice was lacy and fitted, molding to Elsea's curves without being scandalous. She loved it. The maid styled her hair in an elegant upsweep with ringlets and curls escaping.
"Oh, my dear, you look so demure and lovely," Agatha breathed. "That is the perfect dress for you."
"Gorgeous." Dani nodded with approval.
Cat beamed a wide smile. "Stunning."
Elsea's face warmed. "Nonsense. But I appreciate all your hard work to make me presentable."
Cat scoffed. "No hard work necessary. You would be beautiful in a marram grass sack."
Elsea had paid little attention to her appearance recently, but deep down inside, some echo from the past wanted Brodie to like the way she looked.
***
brODIE SAT WITH GAVIN and Torr near the huge hearth in the crowded great hall, sipping whisky.
Descending the stairs had not been as difficult as Brodie had expected.
The lightheadedness was only marginal. Torr had walked in front of him and Gavin behind, to catch him if he should black out.
His clansmen and women had greeted him with smiles, happy to see he was on the mend.
The noisy room grew quiet as the ladies descended the steps and entered, Brodie's mother first, then Dani, Cat and Elsea.
"Visions of loveliness." Gavin stood and bowed.
"Indeed, ladies." Torr followed suit.
Brodie pushed himself up and inclined his head. He moved to the side, holding to the chair back and waiting for the pain from the movement to diminish.
All four ladies wore elegant, colorful gowns of silk or velvet, but Brodie's gaze locked on Elsea.
She was a vision in indigo. So lovely, in fact, his brain wouldn't function.
Her dress was more modest than the other young ladies', but that didn't matter.
She possessed the air of a demure debutante.
The same entranced bewilderment he had experienced a couple of years ago, when he'd seen her for the first time, struck him.
It seemed a lifetime ago and... 'twas hard to draw a breath.
His mother's arm was linked through Elsea's as they approached him.
He bowed slightly, and they curtsied. His mother smiled, then hurried away to the dais.
Brodie's gaze locked on Elsea and her stunning beauty.
Damnation. He ground his teeth against the temptation of her as she inched closer.
How was it possible to crave someone who'd destroyed you?
Her blond warrior braids were gone, replaced by soft, feminine curls.
He wanted to run his hand through them and wind them around his fingers.
"Well, look at you, bonnie lass," he murmured.
Her cheeks bloomed with rosy color, and she glanced down. "I thank you. You look rather handsome yourself." Her gaze lifted, dark azure filled with emotion.
'Twas like a punch in the gut.
He glanced away. What the hell was he doing? 'Twas madness to compliment her or look too deeply into her eyes.
"How are you feeling? Are you in pain?" she asked.
"I'll be fine." He offered his arm.
When she wrapped her hand around his elbow, a jolt shot through him like lightning. Her touch was light, and her heather honey scent stole his thoughts. Amid the crowd, they proceeded toward the dais and the high table.
"Lady Elsea looks lovely this eve, aye?" Giving him a pointed look, Torr reached down and handed her up.
"Indeed." Brodie lifted a brow. He was certain she was well aware of how fetching she was.
As Brodie moved behind Elsea, seated in the chair, her neck caught his attention. He remembered kissing her there on numerous occasions in the past. Little curled tendrils of blond hair escaped her chignon and teased at her smooth skin.
Torr had seated her in the chair beside Brodie's, the chief's chair, in the center.
Besides, all the other chairs were taken, and he had no choice but to sit beside her.
They were all playing matchmaker and trying to set him up.
Frowning, he glanced around at Torr and Gavin, who were whispering to their wives.
When the men visited, they generally sat on either side of him so they could converse easily, but with all the ladies present, they sat farther away.
He glanced at his mother, and she sent him a wee, smug grin.
He frowned in return. Blast it, he hated being manipulated, especially by her.
After the priest said grace, servants brought out food and drink. The scents of spiced wine, ale, fresh bread, and roast meat filled the air. They placed a platter before him and Elsea, containing a chunk of roast venison and a small loaf of bread.
"Smells wonderful. I'll cut it," she said, barely loud enough to be heard over the scores of clansmen and women talking, laughing, and thunks of tankards or trenchers on the wooden tables.
"Nay, I can." Brodie would not be seen as a weakling. He took his knife and sliced the bread into a few thick portions, the healing muscles of his chest aching in protest. He carved the roast thinly for her benefit, then served her half on her wooden trencher.
"Goodness, 'tis too much," she whispered. He relished her intimate tone. It took him back to a far more innocent time.
"Nonsense. I'm certain you must be hungry."
"You are the one who needs to eat plenty to help your wound heal and rebuild your strength."
He glanced at her, seeing no malice in her eyes. "Trying my best. Salt?" he asked, gathering a pinch between his thumb and finger from the salt cellar.
"Aye. I'm glad you're recovering quickly."
He remembered how much salt she liked and sprinkled it over her sliced roast. "Fast healing is a selkie trait." After salting his own roast, he took a bite.
"Oh, thank goodness."
The venison was indeed delicious and tender, but he grew annoyed at the herbs and garlic, for the strong scent drowned out Elsea's delicate sweet fragrance. He found himself tempted to bury his nose against her throat. He was a daft goat.
Over the past day or two, he had been consuming so much haggis and black pudding, he was glad to dine on something else for a change.
He tried to concentrate on eating, but Elsea kept snagging his attention. She sat straight and upright, tearing small bites from her bread, buttering and eating them, then cutting wee morsels of meat with her dainty knife. He should've cut it smaller for her.
"You've always had the finest cook," she said.
Her hint at the past caused him to remember meals they'd shared ages ago. "Aye, she is skilled. But too keen on the garlic if you ask me."
Elsea snickered. "I like it."
He wanted to ask her if she'd been avoiding him for the past couple of days, since Torr and Gavin had arrived, but that would imply Brodie wanted to see her more often. He did, but she didn't need to know that.