Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The great hall of Castle Fraser glowed with warmth and life.
Torches lined the stone walls, their flames dancing in iron brackets.
Long tables had been pushed aside to create space in the center of the hall, while musicians occupied a small platform near the hearth.
The lively sound of fiddles and pipes filled the air, accompanied by laughter and conversation from every corner of the room.
Eleanor paused in the doorway as she was passing with a new stack of documents in her arms. She had been gathering new scrolls from the council chambers and had intended to spend the evening going through them all.
“What is all this?” she asked, nodding her head toward all of the commotion as servants bustled about.
Marion, who had just been coming out of the hall, clasped her hands together and grinned gleefully. “It is only a ceilidh, milady.”
“Only?” Eleanor raised her brows in question, wondering why Callum had not thought to tell her of the impromptu celebration.
“Aye.” The maid laughed. “Only the clan's favorite excuse to eat, drink, dance, and pretend they have no work to do tomorrow. It is tradition to hold a smaller Ceilidh after the bonfire evening. It gives us somethin’ to look forward to until the next one.”
Eleanor surveyed the crowded hall and let out a sigh. It did not seem as if she would be getting the quiet evening that she had been hoping for. Images of the bonfire and the sudden kiss flitted across her mind, making her blush despite her attempts to remain nonchalant.
Women in bright tartans twirled between rows of dancers while children darted between the tables. Men gathered around casks of ale, already several drinks into the evening. Not only had Callum forgotten to tell her about the celebration, but he had not summoned her to join.
Is he avoiding me as much as I am avoiding him?
For the first time since arriving at Castle Fraser, she felt less like a guest and more like an observer peering into the heart of the clan. It felt strange that Callum had not told her, but she enjoyed the fact that there was an element of surprise to the evening.
“This happens often?” Eleanor decided to change the subject before her mind could linger for too long on Callum.
“When there is reason to celebrate, and the clan is very good at findin’ any reason to celebrate,” Marion said cheerfully.
“And what are we celebrating tonight?” Eleanor peered over her shoulder at the dancers who were beginning to twirl in the middle of the floor.
Marion's grin widened. “The sheep survived lambing season.”
Eleanor blinked. “That is all?” She was beginning to wonder if Callum even knew about the Ceilidh at all. It did not seem like something that he would have approved if he knew about it.
The maid shrugged. “Seems reason enough to me, Mistress.” Before Eleanor could respond, Marion nudged her forward. “Why do ye nae go and join in the celebrations, Mistress? I shall take all of these scrolls to the study for ye.”
“But I have nae desire to dance or even participate,” Eleanor began to complain, but found herself being nudged forward.
Marion laughed. “It doesnae matter at Castle Fraser, Mistress.” The maid vanished into the crowd before Eleanor could protest further.
Abandoned, Eleanor made her way toward one of the side tables.
Unfortunately, she did not go unnoticed.
Several clan women greeted her warmly. Children waved.
Even a few elderly men tipped their heads respectfully.
The friendliness surprised her. Not long ago, she had felt entirely out of place among the Frasers.
Now she found herself smiling back. Perhaps she truly was beginning to belong here.
The thought both comforted and frightened her. What did it even mean to say that she belonged at Castle Fraser? She was no closer to finding her brother, and the arrangement between her and Callum was only temporary until then.
A sudden cheer erupted from the center of the room, drawing her attention away from her own thoughts.
Her breath caught in her throat when she spotted Callum, who had just entered the hall.
His arrival immediately drew attention. Men greeted him with slaps on the back.
Women smiled. Several children rushed toward him.
The laird accepted it all with easy confidence.
And for the hundredth time since she had arrived at the castle, Eleanor realized that he was not as gruff as she had first thought he had been.
His gaze met hers from across the room, and despite everything else that was going on, the world around them seemed to fade.
For one brief moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in the hall.
Heat crept into Eleanor's cheeks when Callum smiled at her.
What does it mean?
Her pulse instantly began to race as the kiss floated across her mind, warming her core in ways that were entirely too embarrassing for her to admit.
Did he feel the same way that she did? Or was he simply smiling at her for the good of the clansmen around them?
She was about to raise a hand and wave at him when several clansmen dragged him away to settle an argument.
Eleanor released a breath she had not realized she was holding.
The evening continued as she looked around the hall at all of the merriment around them. It seemed almost odd to her that everyone was so jovial and pleasant when there was so much underlying tension among them all.
Or did someone plan it this way?
She looked around the room again, her pulse freezing as her gaze landed on Hamish.
She had not seen him again since that first dinner in the hall, but he seemed to be staring at her in the exact same manner.
Her eyes instantly moved to Callum, who seemed to be blissfully unaware of the exchange.
She looked back at Hamish, who was still looking at her.
What is he thinkin’?
Her breathing became more labored as she once again broke their gaze. She could not handle the way he was looking at her without knowing what was going on in his mind. She looked back again, but found that Hamish had turned to the man beside him and now seemed fully immersed in a conversation.
That man will be the death of me.
She attempted to calm herself as he looked to the rest of the hall. She would tell Callum later that Hamish had still seemed fixated on her, but for now, she intended to enjoy the evening as best as she could.
Music filled the hall. Dancers spun across the floor. The atmosphere became increasingly lively as the hours passed.
Eleanor remained safely near the wall with her arms tucked tightly around her waist as she watched Hamish’s every move. She spared a moment now and then to track down Callum, but he seemed to want to spend the time speaking with Iain and laughing at things that others said.
He is so handsome.
The thought made her blush as she looked toward the door and attempted to avoid seeing Callum again. At least until Fiona appeared. As far as she understood it, Fiona had not been to the castle in years, but she walked in with her head held high as if she had always belonged there.
Whispers followed behind her as she cut a path directly toward Eleanor. It was not until Callum raised a mug in greeting to her that everyone else seemed to ignore her presence and carry on with what they were doing.
“Ye look utterly lost, lass,” Fiona smiled at her, ignoring the looks from several women in passing.
Pushing herself off the wall, Eleanor smiled. “Not as out of place as ye seem to be,” she teased, welcoming the company of an old friend. The time she had spent with Fiona in the cabin had endeared her to the older woman, so much so that Eleanor felt as if they were old friends.
Fiona cackled as she stopped beside Eleanor and smiled. “I came at the request of the laird, who wished to speak with me, but he failed to mention that there was a Celeidh this evening.” She looked around the room in amusement.
“That makes two of us,” Eleanor almost sighed as she forced a smile.
Looking back at Eleanor, Fiona grinned. “Have ye nae been fittin’ in here at the castle, lass?”
“I have,” Eleanor answered almost defensively.
“It is just that me time has been occupied… with other matters. She had meant that she had been busy trying to solve the mystery of her brother’s disappearance, but her mind had gone in an entirely different direction. A fact that Fiona seemed to pick up on.
A wry smile spread across the older woman’s lips. “Well, ye willnae make matters easier on yerself if ye stay hidden in a corner, lass.”
Eleanor’s heart instantly sank as she picked up on the teasing tone in Fiona’s voice. “Oh, nay, what are ye plannin’?”
Fiona's smile was entirely too innocent when she spoke again. “Ye must dance, lass.”
Her heart instantly sank into the pit of her stomach as Eleanor shook her head. “Nay, I cannae…”
Fiona narrowed her eyes. “Ye can and ye must. Ye are the laird’s bride.”
“But I am tryin’ to observe…” Her voice trailed off when Fiona grabbed her wrist and began to pull her toward the dancers.
Eleanor protested with all of her might, but found herself being met with unexpected strength. “Fiona!” She hissed under her breath.
People began to stare and laugh in their direction, and before she knew it, Eleanor was being pushed into the thick of things.
Several dancers immediately welcomed her into the line. Within moments, Eleanor found herself swept into the dance. She stumbled through the first few turns, missed a step, and nearly collided with an elderly woman. Yet she slowly began to find the rhythm.
Laughter escaped her throat, an unexpected sound that caught her off guard.
The music was infectious while the joy around her was impossible to resist. She soon forgot her reservations as the dancers linked arms and kicked their legs along to the tune.
They moved around the room, reeling at the song until it came to an end.
Merriment bubbled forth until she found herself face-to-face with a familiar figure.
Callum.
He looked just as surprised as she did as he blinked at her. From somewhere behind him, Eleanor swore she could hear Fiona cackling.
For half a heartbeat, neither moved. Then the dance carried them together. His hand closed around hers, warm, strong, and firm, just as it had been that night in the study.
Eleanor's breath caught. The world tilted slightly as she found herself being guided against her will. The dance required them to turn. His hand remained in hers. Far longer than necessary. Or perhaps that was simply her imagination.
Callum's gaze never left her face. “You appear to be enjoying yerself,” The sound of his voice nearly disappeared beneath the music.
“Daenae, act so surprised,” she answered softly, feeling breathless at the sudden excursion and turn of events. How was it that Fiona seemed to have planned things so expertly? She had been standing in the corner one moment, and the next she was dancing with Callum.
“I am merely observin’,” he said teasingly again.
The dance brought them closer, then apart, then together again.
Each movement seemed designed to torment her.
Every accidental touch and glance seemed far too familiar.
Almost as if they had been dancing together for all their lives.
They moved together effortlessly, anticipating each other’s moves with ease.
The musicians quickened the pace. Laughter echoed through the hall, yet Eleanor could focus only on the man standing before her.
When the dance finally ended, she found herself breathless, and Callum looked no better.
For a moment, neither spoke. The crowd swirled around them until applause erupted and another tune began.
Still, they remained standing there, staring at each other as other dancers began to move around them.
“I cannae believe it,” Callum said quietly. “But it seems as if ye have been holdin’ out on us.”
She blinked. “I daenae ken what ye mean, me laird.”
“I didnae ken that ye could dance. Ye struck me as someone who had spent her life readin’ books instead of dancin’.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “I am a young lady after all, me laird. Me father didnae lock me behind a desk for the past few years.”
“Nay?” His smile was teasing again.
“Nay,” she shook her head and fought against the smile that threatened her lips.
His grin widened. “Then ye deliberately allowed me to underestimate ye.”
Eleanor laughed. The sound seemed to affect him more than it should.
Something changed in his expression. Something deeper.
The smile slowly faded. The air between them shifted once more.
Neither looked away. Around them, the ceilidh continued.
Yet it felt as though they occupied a world entirely their own.
For one impossible moment, Eleanor wondered what it would be like if he stepped closer and reached for her hand again.
What would it feel like if neither of them cared who was watching?
Would he kiss her again? The pit of her stomach suddenly fluttered as images of him pressing her back against the tree flitted across her mind.
She opened her mouth to say something, but someone came up from behind and gripped Callum’s arm, drawing his attention away from her.
When he looked back, there was regret in his eyes, but he allowed the man to draw him across the room and toward a group of young men who seemed to be arguing.
Eleanor sucked in a deep breath, wondering what it all meant between them. How was it possible that things felt so right when he was dancing with her?
The moment, however, was short-lived when she turned to see Hamish staring at her.
His gaze was just as intense as ever as he strummed the tips of his fingers on the table beside his mug.
Was he annoyed with her? Or was he waiting for something? The impatient look in his eyes made her wonder if he had planned on cornering her.
She quickly made her way across the room and chose the same spot against the wall.
At least with her back covered, she felt a little safer knowing that she knew exactly where Hamish was.
Yet her mind struggled to be at ease again as the man’s gaze followed her every move.
Something would need to happen with the man, and the sooner they got to the bottom of it, the sooner Eleanor would be able to relax and focus on what mattered most, finding her brother.