Page 26 of Bride of the Beastly Laird

“Ye’re beautiful, melady and yer hair is tidy.” He offered a grin. “’Tis best we’re nay seen together. I’ll nae return tae the hall but walk on the battlements and converse there with the guards while ye return and take yer place again.”

He took her hand and pressed it to his lips before swiveling and walking off without a backward glance.

Her heart was jumping in her chest as she watched him stride down the passageway. The kiss that had shattered her senses seemed like a dream now, almost unreal. The prospect of returning to the festivities and resuming her seat beside Bairre made her feel physically ill. She gathered her wits, aware she would need to appear serene when she returned. She turned and was walking slowly in the direction of the hall when she glanced up and saw a figure approaching.

It was Craig Donald.

Och, me Lord.Was it possible he’d seen her together with Arran before he walked off? She placed a shaky hand to her heart, willing it to quieten.

As Craig drew alongside, he gave her a cheerful smile and offered her his arm. “Melady, the laird has bid me seek ye out and return ye tae the hall. He was concerned that ye might have become lost among the myriad passageways of the castle.”

Breathing deeply, striving for calm, she took his arm.

“Oh, thank ye fer helping me find me way back tae the hall. The laird was correct. I am somewhat confused about finding my way about the castle.”

He threw here a quizzical glance. “Mayhap it would be wise to ensure ye have another accompany ye until ye are more familiar with it.”

“Aye. That is so.” She kept her voice low and agreeable, breathing a sigh of relief. It seemed Craig had not observed any of what passed between her and Arran.

By the time they made their way back to the high table, her breathing had steadied and she was ready to face Bairre’s scowling face, only too well aware that if he’d sent Craig to find her, he must be displeased.

She held her head high, refusing to let him see her fear, addressing him coldly. “Thank ye, me laird fer sending yer war leader tae seek me out. I fear I lost me way, taking a staircase that led me in the wrong direction.” She pasted on a smile but could not contain the acid remark that her previous imprisonment here had not provided her any opportunity to learn the ways of Castle Mackinnon.

Bairre continued to scowl although he seemed somewhat mollified after she’d rattled off her excuse. It occurred to her that if she was sufficiently unpleasant, he might reconsider their betrothal and even petition the king to release him.

He slowly turned his scowl into a smile that seemed altogether forced, while his small, dark eyes continued to regard her with suspicion.

“Very well, me lady. Now take yer seat beside me. We’ve some very fine delicacies yet tae come that mayhap will tempt yer appetite.”

A small kitchen-maid, scarcely more than a child, appeared bearing a tray laden with bowls of pudding and sweetmeats. As she leaned forward to place the heavy tray on the table her hand slipped and one of the bowls tipped off the tray and dropped, upended on the table in front of Bairre, splashing custard across his shirt.

In an instant he swung back his hand and slapped the young girl hard across the face, shouting at her.

“That’s fer yer clumsiness. Now set tae cleaning the table.”

The girl set to wiping the table using her own pinafore to try and soak up the mess. Her hands were shaking so hard she could scarcely keep a grip on the cloth. Tears streamed down her cheeks, where one held the deep red imprint of Bairre’s hand.

Another maid dashed forward with a cleaning cloth and dabbed at the splattering of custard on Bairre’s shirt.

Dahlia glared at Bairre, her heart going out to the small girl who had been so brutally treated.

“Nay lass. Dinna fash,” she whispered to the girl. “Another maid will finish cleaning the table. Take yerself back tae the kitchen and find yersel’ a clean pinny.”

The girl raised her head, managing a faint smile through her tears. She bobbed her head to Dahlia and uttered a faint “Thank ye,” before turning on her heel and darting away, leaving the tray and bowls. A second kitchen-maid appeared, and silently cleaned the table and set the bowls to rights.

Once the women had tidied up and left, Bairre turned toward Dahlia. His face was beet-red, and he seemed fit to burst with rage.

“Ye defied the order I had given tae that useless girl. I told her tae clean the table and ye sent her away.” His voice was a growl coming from somewhere deep in his throat. “It is I who issues commands here and ye’d best keep that in mind. I’ll deal with ye as I did the maid if ye dare tae thwart me again.”

Dahlia looked at him wide-eyed, quaking at the savagery in his tone. For the first time since she’d arrived, he was showing her exactly how much power he had over her. Her heart fluttered as she realized the danger she was in. She saw at once how foolish she’d been to hope her defiance might convince him to send her home. Instead, it would simply lead him to treat her with more and more cruelty in order to force her compliance.

If he had even the faintest inkling of what had passed between herself and Arran she had no doubt, their very lives would be at serious risk.

Yet, she longed to see Arran again.

CHAPTER TEN

Bairre turned his back, snapping his fingers at Craig, who hastened over at once.

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